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» Ship of Fools   » Ship's Locker   » Limbo   » Circus: The Story of the Kavetseki Incident (RPG) (Page 5)

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Source: (consider it) Thread: Circus: The Story of the Kavetseki Incident (RPG)
Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary looked at the boy; someone worse off than any in the beach party. "Here boy, have some porridge and some blackberries that Goodwoman Clawdine has gathered. Sit down beside her and eat."

Mary looked around for Goode. Most of the train was now curled up asleep except for the day guards and a couple of men tending to the oxen now grazing and resting in the field. She thought Frithwynne might be over there. She hauled the now empty pot to the river and scrubbed it clean with sand and reeds; she suspected that was normally part of the boy's chores.

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spinner of webs

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Adam.

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"Foret, is it?" asked Dorainen. The boy nodded nervously. "You have heard of my healing power, have you? And you want to be restored to health?"

"Yes, sir, if that's what I'm meant to call you, I'm sorry, I..." his lip was quivering, the boy was clearly terrified. Dorainen started his incantations, finding an easy connection to the healing flow. The boy flinched as Dorainen laid his hands on his afflicted parts, so Dorainen first directed a gush of the flow at his mind for calming. The boy let out a deep sigh and his whole body seemed to relax. Almost without Dorainen having to intend it the gush of healing leaked and started to lap gently at the boy's whole body. An onlooker could see his ankle reform itself. Slowly the healing puttered out into a drip. With a mental flick of the wrist, Dorainen directed the last drop at the boy's mouth, in an attempt to heal his nervous speech.

The boy sat up and spoke, his voice sounding deeper: "Thank you, good elf. I am truly in your debt."

"Mister Foret, you are most welcome," replied the elf. "I know you carry messages. I would only ask that you mention me to those who use your services. It's good work you do for this caravan, I know; important work. Tell me, I'm a simple elf, curious about human ways, no more: what are some of the most interesting messages you've carried on this trip?"

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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog

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Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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The elf's actions have not gone unnoticed, people - both human and dwarf are regarding the party with more interest.

For his part, Dorainen is puzzled that the lad should have collected so many bruises just running errands, perhaps the twisted foot he had corrected had something to do with it, many falls perhaps ?

He doesn't see why the boy should have chosen to have a tattoo of Tepik's name torque-style around his left bicep either - but then he had been warned humans had weird customs.

For his part, Foret can barely believe his good luck. But he has nothing he can give in repayment, except his promise:

"Sir, nothing but speed up, slow down, have we enough feed - but if ever I carry more you'll be the first to know I promise !"


[ 15. June 2014, 15:49: Message edited by: Doublethink ]

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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Doublethink.
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# 1984

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Noon has past, you enter the second day.

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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Doublethink.
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# 1984

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Whilst the camp structure is lose, the wagons have now been formed into a rough circle - some dwarfs are standing casually in strategic positions - and a group of four stroll in a fixed looping pattern through and around the camp.

All little way off you see Foret have a brief encounter with Trepik - one of his people must have let him know about the healing. It is difficult to tell whether or not he considers it good news.

The fortified wagon has been moved a little inside the circle, so there is a wagon between its eastern side and the open ground beyond.


[ 15. June 2014, 16:08: Message edited by: Doublethink ]

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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Curiosity killed ...

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Er delivered Hewer's used plate and utensils to the serving team and continues drifting around the wagon circle. He's hoping to bump into Dr Goode or spot some ***tinkering*** work to further ingratiate himself with this caravan team. He saw Dorainen cure the lad, Foret, from a distance and thinks he better ensure his place if all the other members of his party are gaining theirs.

Magic, as he understands it, is beyond him, both scary and unnatural, and he is uncomfortable around its practitioners. Having seen Gunriana on the boat and beach, he'd really rather not ask her whether the party is still spellbound, but Dr Goode is another matter.

[ 15. June 2014, 16:13: Message edited by: Curiosity killed ... ]

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Mugs - Keep the Ship afloat

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Doublethink.
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# 1984

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Whilst Er's original offer of help to fix the yoke was received with thanks, his failure to deliver leaves Goodman Brewer less than impressed - still at least he did no damage ...

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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

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Adam.

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quote:
Originally posted by Doublethink:

He doesn't see why the boy should have chosen to have a tattoo of Tepik's name torque-style around his left bicep either - but then he had been warned humans had weird customs.

Dorainen went looking for a member of his party to ask about this, Studia humana proving uninformative on this point.

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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary finishes with the pot and takes the opportunity to rinse her arms, legs, face, and bonnet though she still lacks soap for a proper wash. A blue applique rabbit on the bonnet comes loose and floats away down the brook and she thinks about her niece, Kelli, who had made the bonnet for her so many years ago now. She wonders if Cimenster has a bathhouse that she could manage to afford assuming she finds anything to barter with. She returns and sits beside Clawdine, near the now dowsed cooking fire and in the shade of one of the wagons.

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spinner of webs

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Curiosity killed ...

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Er shakes himself down and wonders what went wrong with his repair of the yoke and how to redeem himself in the eyes of Goodman Brewer. He continues his meander, looking out for Dr Goode, maybe they could have a game of cards or dice?

He sees the elf, Dorainen, coming his way, looking purposeful and thinks that it would be rude to ignore him ...

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Mugs - Keep the Ship afloat

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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine was perfectly contented. Today was a dream, compared to yesterday's nightmare. She stretched out, with her toes through the grass, and the warm sun on her skin. Her belly was full and the rest felt wonderfully natural.

She wasn't at all interested in what was in the big cart, nor was she particularly interested in going to Cimester. Everything that signified wealth to her was all around in the landscape. She watched the other shipwreck survivors trying to be helpful in various ways, and watched how Trepik treated everyone. She wondered just how expendable they were in his scheme of things, and toyed with the idea of slipping away on her own.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

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Adam.

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"Ah, Er! Do you have a minute?" asked Dorainen.

"I was wondering if you could help me understand something about humans. I was just with the boy Foret. So many injuries I couldn't believe! I also noticed that he'd tatooed Trepik's torque-style around his left bicep. I looked that up in my book, Studia Humana and it told me that it's common for men to get tattoos of the name of their sweetheart. Are Trepik and Foret sweethearts? They don't look like it, but maybe I've horribly misunderstood something. I'd hate to put my foot in something (is that the right phrase?)"

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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
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Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne had sheltered with the unyoked oxen, passing among them, patting their shoulders and gazing into their placid faces, until the line at the porridge pot was almost gone. Then she walked over, found an unattended spoon and bowl, got her portion, and ate it quickly. She rinsed the spoon and bowl in the stream, and returned them where she found them.

She went down again to the stream, dangling her feet in the water, pondering the events of the night. She had heard nothing of consequence from the large wagon, only the clinking of what she guessed was coin, and the snoring of what was confirmed to be the day guard when he emerged, stretching and yawning, as the caravan came to a halt. Someone had brought porridge to him, and he now stood at the front of the wagon, glowering at anyone who came near.

She yearned to rinse herself fully in the stream, but before that, she thought it prudent to try to show herself to be useful. She got up, and walked among the shipwrecked travelers, offering whether she might be of service by rinsing salt-soaked outer garments, or cleaning whatever kit had been saved from the sea.

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Truth

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Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary considered Clawdine who was resting contentedly in the sun nearby. She said she was a water diviner but she seemed more of a full fledged wood witch, working with the land and using what it provided. Probably content to stay near this stream, perhaps have a little hut or maybe a cave with wild roses growing around it, bartering berries, maize, and herbs for what she could not find. Perhaps inviting someone she fancied to stay for a while but otherwise hiding her dwelling place. Not caring what any prince or priest commanded. Not good to cross. Mary still felt guilty about King and wished she had some soap and some thread.

She glanced over at the boy who was moving better now that Dorainen had healed him. Soap would be useful there also but she frowned considering the healing. Daniel had said Trebik would sell his own grandmother if there was profit and an elf with healing power, seemingly innocent of much, and with no strong protector might be tempting. Probably no real danger until they were closer to the city and it depended on the city as it was now.

Goodman Docker was stirring over by the adjacent wagon. "Wake are you?" he growled, "Let's get dinner started, it will take some hours to stew the meat properly". She rose, got some water from the brook, while he stirred up the fire and started chopping the meat into small pieces. She joined him in that task and asked, "Your son was talking about Cimenster and the theaters. A frill but I'm certain you are more concerned with the essentials. Who is ruling the city now? Who is in charge of the merchant guild? I had an old relative who spoke of the de Morgans but that was decades ago"

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spinner of webs

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Banner Lady
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# 10505

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Clawdine glowered at those preparing the dinner of stewed meat.

'Idiots,' she muttered to herself, as she stomped off around a bend the stream, 'to eat what has been tampered with twice over by dark magic. I remember when horse was a King.'

She surveyed the banks for a good spot to fish from. 'Well Clawdine, you was always the best at finding where the bream hide under the banks, during the day, and today looks like a good fishing day.'

In the twinkle of an eye, her lithe blonde form was streaking through the water, as naked as the fish she was chasing.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

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Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Unfortunately Goodman Docker was being remarkably closed mouth about the situation in Cimenster.

Mary heard a large splash and turned to look at the stream where Clawdine was splashing around. Several of the day guard were looking at her and chuckling. She heard one mutter something about crazy humans.

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spinner of webs

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Yorick

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# 12169

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When the caravan had stopped, John Goode had slid under a wagon and slept on the long smooth grass in its shade for perhaps two hours. He woke, feeling refreshed, to the pleasant smell of woodsmoke and a well-herbed bubbling stew, and looked around the pretty green glade beside the stream. It was very peaceful, and he could see in the relaxed state of those wandering about and chatting that everything was well and good.

He made his way over to the camp fire, and sat beside Er and Dorainen, who seemed to be chatting about the latest fashion in tattoos. He saluted them and slid into their conversation as it turned to easy chat about weather and road. When Frythwynne joined them, offering to clean their clothes, he beamed a smile and removed his jacket to pass it to her. He piled a great number of articles from its numerous pockets. ‘Here’, he said, ‘If you can smarten this thing up for me I should be very greatly obliged to you, good lady.’

As she made off with his coat, John sat cross-legged on the floor and picked up Jack’s set of dice, feeling their rattle as he tumbled them in his hand. He threw them, and called out loudly enough to be noticed by the two dwarfs who were walking past on their guard duties, “Ho! I rolled a perfect triple six! Oh, if I could but do that every time I’d be a rich man. It must be my lucky day- who would like a game?’’

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این نیز بگذرد

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Autenrieth Road

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"Of course, Dr. Goode," says Frithwynne, taking the jacket and piling the pocket-objects on top. She carries the bundle down to the stream, positioning herself a little way downstream from the naked Clawdine. She wishes she were as un-shy as that, to take off all her clothes and have a good unfettered wash.

Instead, she looses the halberd from the ribbon on her thigh and lays it on the bank, covering it with the cards from her kilted-up kirtle and Dr. Goode's pocket-horde. Then she takes off her kirtle and wades hip deep into the water in her shift, bearing the jacket and kirtle. After splashing and rinsing them, she holds her breath and ducks down quickly under the water, shaking her head under the water to cleanse her salt-crusted hair.

She wades back to the stream bank and lays the jacket, kirtle, and her red ribbon out to dry in a sunny spot. Then she turns to cleaning Dr. Goode's items. Three shells and a pea, a surgical kit and fine leather wallet, a pipe, various twigs that she recognizes as being from the various types of bushes they passed in the woods, a coin which gives her an odd quiver when she handles it, and a curious metal tube. She rinses these in the stream, except for the tube, which she is nervous about wetting, and instead rubs with a dampened handful of grass. She rubs the surgical instruments in the dirt by the stream to polish them, and rinses then again. She then lays all the objects out to dry next to the clothes, and, after finger-combing her hair, lies down to dry herself in the westering rays of the sun.

Soon she falls asleep.

[ 16. June 2014, 15:51: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]

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Truth

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Yorick

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# 12169

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John Goode looked down at the pile of things he had taken out of his jacket pockets, but they were grass. That is, they were gone, and it was only grass there. He froze. He looked at the others, his face drained of all colour except a sort of greyish-white.

‘She didn’t take my stuff to wash with the jacket, did she?’

Without waiting for an answer, Goode spun on his heels and strode off towards the riverbank with as fast as he could without actually running, screaming and flailing his arms.

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این نیز بگذرد

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Autenrieth Road

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Frithwynne has been having a confused dream. First she was running from a cave with someone she didn't know, but then she found herself lying down in the grass and the stranger turned out to be Daniel, looking even younger than she remembered him from the ship before the storm. Then there's confusion, many people arriving, and for some reason Gunriana and Jetse and Clawdine are there, and people who remind her vaguely of Dorainen and Jack and one of the cabin boys, and even a potential passenger whom she had seen discussing passage with Mary on the dock, but had eventually turned away shaking his head. Even King and the brightly colored blue caravan are there. Then more confusion, and she's receiving her own chalice from a sulky boy, but twisted into near-uselessness.

She comes awake with a start. She tries to make sense of her dream. Is it trying to tell her something? But it all seems senseless, although she fears the twisted chalice means some type of bad fate ahead. She makes the sign for luck, and suddenly realizes that she had quite forgotten about the tricorne when she went in the water. She jumps up and combs the bank, sighing in relief when she finds it caught in a bend of the river a meadow's worth of paces downstream. She fishes it out and tries to shake the water out of it.

As she walks back upstream, she thinks about the doctor's surgical kit. Something had been missing that she would have expected anyone with knives to carry. She starts scanning the ground, hoping she can ***find a hidden*** whetstone for him.

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Truth

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Dafyd
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# 5549

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Daniel decides that he is going to have a lie down and a nap for a bit. He may have been sleeping with the fairies for the past twenty years, but he's been walking through a forest in the dark more recently than that. 'Wake me up if anything happens. Or if you want to consult me on anything. Crime Scene Investigation my speciality. Also anything you'd get out a mob with pitchforks for,' he says to his nearest shipwreck survivors. After that, he puts his hat over his eyes and lies down.

[ 16. June 2014, 19:27: Message edited by: Dafyd ]

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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams

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Doublethink.
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# 1984

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Frithwynne knows it will be ***easy*** for her to find a whetstone, here, on the banks of a river.

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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

Posts: 19219 | From: Erehwon | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Curiosity killed ...

Ship's Mug
# 11770

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Er blinks at John Goode's response to Frithwynne's help, "Can I h....?" he starts saying to the doctor's retreating back, shrugs as the doctor rapidly moves out of earshot and looks his astonishment at Dorainen.

Ah, well, this could be the moment to broach the topic of bewitchment. He'd explained tattoos with names could be a way of marking property and he thought that Trepik probably had branded Foret as his slave. It seems as if elves did not own others, so did not comprehend that others might. Er's childhood had been overshadowed by probable enslavement; tinkering was an escape from one form of penury and unrelenting labour. As they talked he had been puzzling how to direct their talk to the contents of the bonded wagon or whether they were still enchanted, all the while feeling inferior to the elf and most of his companions as a tinker on the road. Just as he'd thought of a possible introduction the good doctor had arrived and the talk had wandered off.

"Before the doctor arrived just now, I was to enquire of sea enchantments," glancing around to see dwarves in earshot, he decides on circumlocution, "you who knows of the sea and these mysteries. I have heard tell of spells that having held for years, seemingly broken, reassert their power when the creatures approach once more. Doth thou know aught of these?"

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Mugs - Keep the Ship afloat

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Adam.

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"Slavery?" Dorainen shook his head and sighed. Water elves only grudgingly accepted any kind of concept of ownership; the idea of a human owning a human was beyond absurd to them. He remembered a fable he'd once heard, or that's what he thought it was, or some human named Pow'uhl (or something like that) who healed a slave girl who had been afflicted by a python spirit. It hadn't gone very well for Pow'uhl. He nervously looked to see if Trepik was coming to get him, but Trepik was nowhere to be seen. Curious... why wouldn't he be supervising his men? Maybe he was sleeping....

"Anyway, back to sea enchantment. The enchantment that held us did not draw its power from the sea. I'd have been able to feel it if it had. It kept us on a beach, that's a liminal space, a place where sea and land collide. The sea was resisting the charm, which was pushing us from the land, keeping us on the beach. I think that's why the storm was so violent: the sea was rebelling against whatever force had been unleashed. You must understand how different that is from my magic. The charm has abated enough to let us walk this far. You are right, it could return at any time. If it doesn't mutate it would again drive us from land. This is pure guess work on my part, but I can only see one way we could be pushed from land on this road, and that's up.

"Maybe we should hope it's mutated?"

Dorainen thought for a minute. "And maybe it has. What if instead of being pushed from something, it's now pulling, we're now being drawn to something. It had previously been blocking our memories and inducing sleep. Now, we're getting visions and are able to walk long distances on little sleep. Maybe that's not an abatement of the charm at all, but a reversal. Intended or unintended, I have no idea."

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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog

Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary walks over to Dorainen and Er and hears some of the conversation and quietly says "I think we should have a small memorial service for those who have died over by the stream before dinner." and in softer voice, "and also decide what to do. If Foret is a slave it bodes ill for us here and in the city. And there is the other thing." Returning to her first voice, "I'll talk to the Doctor, Clawdine, and Frithwynne if you can find the others."

She then walks over to where Clawdine is in the water and waves to get her attention.

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spinner of webs

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Banner Lady
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# 10505

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Clawdine dove and swam, dove and swam, oblivious to the travellers downstream. She followed the banks, scrabbling for fish, but they were unusually sneaky today. Her hand closed on yet another fistful of pebbles and silt, then, as she stood, she could see something glinting through the sunlight in the water. In the folds of a tree root she found unexpected bounty - two smooth gold sovereigns.

'Wonder if there be more, where yer came from?,' she said to the coins in her hand. She walked back to her clothes, which were haphazardly strewn across some bushes to dry, and noticed Mary waving to her again.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

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Net Spinster
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# 16058

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"Clawdine," Mary called, "that looks refreshing. I'm trying to gather our people together for a small memorial service, but, more particularly so we can plan. You seem happy here and certainly your skills would allow you to live well here and even though it is late summer you would find enough I'm sure to prepare for the winter. I fear the city may not be safe. If you choose to stay here or leave the party for another direction, I would support you." Mary paused, "Dorainen and Er have some concern about the the extent of the curse and that is one thing we need to discuss as perhaps the sea witch or the nun would have some insight."

"I also have a more personal request. I've heard that dwarves are extremely fond of edible mushrooms which may or may not be true. Certainly Goodman Docker is using some dried ones in the cookpot set aside for the dwarves." Mary showed Clawdine a few pieces of dried fungi that she had borrowed. "Many humans like them definitely. You seem to have some skill in finding edible items, and, I have some skill in barter so between us we might each get some useful items from the train that we just can't find. Are you interested?"

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spinner of webs

Posts: 1093 | From: San Francisco Bay area | Registered: Dec 2010  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Unaccountably, there are no whetstones near the river. Disappointed, for she had hoped to give the doctor a gift, Frithwynne returns to the clothes and kit. She puts her kirtle back on and laces it up. Sitting down cross-legged, she starts to place the doctor's instruments back in their case. The case is fitted with cunning small loops to hold the instruments, and a padded lining which bears their imprint. She soon finds herself lost in the soothing puzzle of matching up what goes where.

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Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine stood, dripping wet and buck naked in front of bossy Mary.

'A...MEMORIAL service? Iz that wot yer call it when yer cook and eat yer dearly departed? Just az well Jack and the Captin didn't die on the beach then, innit? Or we'd be dinin' off them, too. And yer want me ter find mushrooms ter go with it, do yer?'

Clawdine spat on the ground at Mary's feet to show her disgust at the idea and went back to her clothes. The others could see she was agitated, and kept their distance while Clawdine, with much muttering and waving of her arms, re-robed.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Antisocial Alto
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# 13810

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Aethelreda woke from her doze next to Daniel at the sound of Clawdine's shouting. Oh dear.

She edges away from Mary's hurt expression, over to Dorainen and Er. "What's the troll-woman so angry about? Is she still upset about King? For heaven's sake, I know she loved him, but if our choices are to starve or to eat a companion, I know which I'll choose."

Posts: 601 | From: United States | Registered: Jun 2008  |  IP: Logged
Curiosity killed ...

Ship's Mug
# 11770

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‘So she changed her mind,‘ Er said, flinching at the angry sounds emanating from the stream, ‘after she told us to carve him. I still have the skin if that would help her. ‘

‘The chance to tell what we have learned and choose our path is a good venture, as would be winning some shekels at dice if the good doctor should return. ‘

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Mugs - Keep the Ship afloat

Posts: 13794 | From: outiside the outer ring road | Registered: Aug 2006  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
Shipmate
# 16058

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Mary is hurt by Clawdine's reaction and backs slowly away. It is Clawdine's choice. She walks over to Frithwynne and looks at the Doctor's instruments. It is amazing that the wreck hadn't damaged them. She settles in silence beside Frithwynne since this is a sunny dry spot just before the stream enters the wood. A kingfisher is perched on a nearby bush and dragonflies dart back and forth over the water.

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spinner of webs

Posts: 1093 | From: San Francisco Bay area | Registered: Dec 2010  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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"Wondrous kit, isn't it, Mistress Dra- Hawser?" says Frithwynne, running a finger over the handles, keeping well away from the blades. "Doctor John must be a fine canny man to know what to do with all of them." She folds the kit carefully and ties its leather thong.

"What do you think of this caravan, Mistress?" she continues. "Odd to travel by night, though not unheard of if their concern is to keep the oxen from work in the midday heat. And what do you think of Master Trepik? He seems a hard man. Do you think we are safe traveling with him for the next two days to Cimenster? It may make no difference; a small group such as we are washed from the sea might face more dangers on the highway alone. But best to think on what dangers we may find among them even as we choose to travel with them. And yet the drivers seem friendly enough, from the bits of conversation I heard our group have with them. I wonder if Master Trepik has hired them for some goal that they do not even know, as the false Arnulf apparently hired the Ka- the ship."

[ 17. June 2014, 20:23: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]

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Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne starts combing through the long grass with her fingers. Sometimes all the whetstones by a stream will have been gathered, but ones a little farther away will have been missed. She's still hoping to ***find a hidden*** whetstone for the doctor.

[ 17. June 2014, 20:45: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]

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Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne finds six pebbles of indeterminate shape, a belt buckle, and a mouse skull. But no whetstone. She gives up the search. Perhaps this land is different from those she has known, and whetstones don't come by riverbanks. Or perhaps the stream and its banks have been thoroughly searched already. She wonders whether Cimenster might be a town of knife grinders, to have swept up all the whetstones even to a two days journey distant.

She sets her finds in a careful row, to mystify and delight the next searcher, and waits to hear what Mary might say.

[ 17. June 2014, 22:22: Message edited by: Autenrieth Road ]

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Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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'Well, be it on their own 'eadz,' muttered Clawdine to herself. Sometimes she knew when things were just plain wrong, but couldn't explain it any more than she could explain how she knew where to find plants under snow. Every hour that passed the miasma that had enveloped them on the beach was receding, and her goal was becoming clearer.

'Clawdine, yer needz a drink.' She fingered the coins under her shawl. She felt uneasy about keeping them. Why two? Like the coins that some liked to place on the eyes of the dead, they belonged at a funeral.

She sought out Quartzbearer and held out her hand to him. In it were the two sovereigns and a strand of long blonde hair. Gold, she knew, was hard for a dwarf to resist.

Quickly they did the deal, and Quartzbearer beckoned her over to a covered cart, where he left her in the shade with a tankard in her hand and a pleased smile on her face. Then he strode away to have a few words with the wagonmaster.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine watched the shadows lengthen across the field. Dark fingers crept from the ridge, across the stream and towards the ring of carts.

Something was stirring beneath the grass. She wondered if Gunriana and Daniel were feeling it too. What or who had been buried in this place? Had it been a battlefield, or a place of execution? Or was it just the porter she'd been drinking?

She couldn't shake the feeling that Death seemed to be stalking them...

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
Shipmate
# 16058

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"Doctors are indeed skilled as they go up to fight death and win many times," Mary answered Frithwynne. "And Doctor Goode is skilled even among them otherwise I think Jetse would be dead. Unfortunately he does seem to have some bad habits which may be why he is itinerant rather than established, renown, and rich."

She watched as a small herd of dappled forest ponies edged out of the woods on the other side of the stream. The peninsula ponies were notoriously ill-tempered and wild.

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spinner of webs

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Ariston
Insane Unicorn
# 10894

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Time to work. Back to the wagons. Move out at nightfall.

Jetse had spent the day resting with the other guards. There was a reason he preferred work in the Palatinate, despite the dangers; the dwarves always understood his methods, preferred a certain kind of directness, simplicity. Illithids and dolgar, brigands and abberations; those could be dealt with. Swords work. Arrows too. Not so well with traders in distant ports or the Duke's captain calling up another levy. For them, the simple method only makes complications.

Look. What's wrong? Out of place. Companions. Unsupplied. Two gold coins for a mug of beer? Opportunistic, maybe. Supplies might be short. Trade won't work. Not without something more valuable than gold.

Jetse followed a dwarf (Silverjoy? That what she was called?) over to Trepik and a few of his traders.

"Trepik."

"Oh, hello halfman. I'd shake your hand, but I see you misplaced it. Maybe you should join your companions in looking for it in the woods."

Nobody much laughed. Even Trepik's toadies didn't want to provoke the **intimidating** soldier.

"Anyway, if you've come to beg, or ask questions, or tell me you need something, I'm afraid that you should have come sooner. I can only please one person a day, and it wasn't you. Maybe you should try waking up sooner, greybeard—early to bed, early to rise?"

Jetse snatched the axe from Silverjoy's hand, and spun it in an arc aimed right at Trepik's head. It looked as if he was going to split the man's skull in two…but he stopped it suddenly, precisely between his eyes, drawing only a small drop of blood. Trepik's guards stood shocked, unmoving, and with no thought of trying to stop Guardian Vos.

"I've come to trade, Trepik. You live because I let you. Give me what we need."

[ 18. June 2014, 04:44: Message edited by: Ariston ]

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“Therefore, let it be explained that nowhere are the proprieties quite so strictly enforced as in men’s colleges that invite young women guests, especially over-night visitors in the fraternity houses.” Emily Post, 1937.

Posts: 6849 | From: The People's Republic of Balcones | Registered: Jan 2006  |  IP: Logged
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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The expression on Trepik's face flickers trepidation and calculation Those around him stare fixedly at the upraised axe.

"I fear I misjudged your worth, let us say a wage of five silver pieces for you and each of your band - for you defend the caravan, your elf heals and your doctor also, of course your tinker repairs and then there is the quiet woman who has been so good with animals, and it is a blessing to help the holy woman and her fool, and Goodwoman Hawser has been diligent in her assistance, your water caller - despite her, um, unusual freedoms - is of great value, and your woman of family's connection are most useful - I can not now recall how I can have omitted to set a wage. Silverjoy, find the paymaster, jump to it !

And obviously you need to see yourselves decently clothed and armed, when Silverjoy returns, she will take you and your band to the supply wagon to get what you need. Keep the axe of course, clearly your are master with it, and Silverjoy can find herself another at the supply wagon.

And, perhaps I have jested a little too freely about your loss - but permit me this - that you shall have Foret to be your good left arm.

Foret !"

As Foret comes running Tepik steps cautiously back from the axe. Jetse replaces it in his belt, it is only after he has done this that he realises he had been holding it in his *left* hand. When he looks again he sees his stump and feels a peculiar sensation. Like a twanging nerve - he looks away.

When Foret arrives Trepik grabs him by one arm - and with a leather glove takes a coal from the fire - and swiftly, before Foret can react, he presses it to the band of Foret's tattoo rolling the coal rapidly around his entire bicep. Then he pushes Foret toward Jetse saying "you are his now".

The saddest thing, is the boy is so used to punishment that he does not scream.


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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

Posts: 19219 | From: Erehwon | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Curious Kitten
Shipmate
# 11953

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Taking advantage of the distraction Jetse is providing Er slips into the bonded wagon.

In the corner a snake snoozes, Er thinks it's rather poisonous., and six locked chests. There is a empty bench presumably for the night guard and an open basket that maybe buckled shut. He wonders if this where the snake is kept at night.

The best chance if finding out what is in those chests Er believes is with for Jetse to get the position of night guard or the Shepard lass Frithwynne to get the job of tending to the snake. Shuddering Er removes himself before the snake wakes.

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Happiness is not having what we want but wanting what we have.

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Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne watches the ponies come down to the stream to drink. Most of them have their ears pricked slightly back, nervously watching the two women, but one of them has its ears pricked slightly forwards. She traces its shadow to where it touches the near bank and kneels in it, placing her hands on the neck of the shadow. She starts to croon and hum, seeing whether her ***animal command*** can tame the wild creature and draw it towards her.

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Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Adam.

Like as the
# 4991

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Well, it seems I missed all the fun, thought Dorainen, once both Jetse and Er had filled him in on their recent adventures. A decidedly creepy looking dwarf, Fire-egg by name, led him to the goods wagon, where some other members of his party were examining the available items.

He found a very useful looking hunting knife straight away, replacing the one lost at sea.

He then went to look over the clothing. His robes had been unaffected by salt or the ravages of time or charm, the elven seamstress charm had preserved them perfectly. He look over the available under-robe-wear, but none of it seemed sized or shaped for the elven form. Finally, his eyes lit upon a very curious looking hat. It was delightfully colorful, had three towers coming out of it, each of which had a small metallic object on it. When he picked it up to examine it, it made a charming ringing sound. He tried it on his head and it fit almost perfectly... what japes!

[Dorainen is now wearing a jester's hat. At some point, people will get sufficiently annoyed at the ringing to do something about this. As socially naive as he is, he's not stupid, and will remove it if he needs to hide.]

Finally, Dorainen surveyed the other items available. He considered himself fortunate (or blessed?) to have not lost much other than his knife in the storm. Finally, he caught sight of a tightly bound scroll whose binding was labeled Cimenster and environs. Unraveling it revealed a map. This, he thought, could come in very handy!

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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog

Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003  |  IP: Logged
Doublethink.
Ship's Foolwise Unperson
# 1984

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Frithwynne is aware it should be ***easy*** to tame the pony, providing she is undisturbed during her attempt to do so.

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All political thinking for years past has been vitiated in the same way. People can foresee the future only when it coincides with their own wishes, and the most grossly obvious facts can be ignored when they are unwelcome. George Orwell

Posts: 19219 | From: Erehwon | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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Clawdine drained the last drop from the quartpot and belched with satisfaction as the trading party began to stir themselves to action.

Some of them were gathering the animals, while it seemed Guardian Vos had made some headway with Trepik. The caravaneer had obviously been observing them during the day, and there was a difference now, she noted, to his attitude. She hoped this was a good thing.

Clawdine sighed at the emptiness of the tankard, then rose to go to rinse it in the stream. She didn't like the shadows, and avoided them by hopping and lurching from one patch of dwindling sunlight to another all the way across the field. This did not go without comment from a number of her fellow travellers, and Frithwynne in particular, who didn't want her to spook the ponies.

Near where she had found the gold bits, she bent to rinse the sticky vessel and had just filled it with water to drink when the shadow fell over her. A skeletal hand emerged suddenly from the riverbank and grabbed her leg.

Clawdine screeched as only a large-lunged crone can screech, and tried to get away. She knew that all her gifts with water were of absolutely no use here. She banged the pot down hard on the long bony fingers to no avail. It seemed intent on dragging her into the earth, and she screamed and screamed to the others for help.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Autenrieth Road

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# 10509

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Frithwynne had warded off Clawdine with an urgent shake of her head and returned to concentrating on gentling the pony through its shadow when a grating shriek filled the air. She could see the shadow ponies all raise their heads. The shadows scattered, including that of the pony she'd been trying to tame, tumbling her to the ground as if she'd been thrown. She looked upstream, towards the shrieks, and saw Clawdine struggling as if in some unearthly grip. She must have fallen into a hole, perhaps broken a leg from her screams.

"Mary!" Frithwynne shouted. "Get Jetse! Get Dorainen! Get Mother Aethelreda! Get everyone!" She named those she had observed who looked strongest after the Guardian, and called for everyone because Clawdine looked so panicked, Frithwynne didn't know what kind of help might be needed.

She ran towards Clawdine. When she got close she could see the dirt-caked hand locked around Clawdine's leg. She nearly vomited, but controlled herself and locked her hands around Clawdine's wrists, trying to dig her bare heels into the soft bank.

"Grab my wrists! Grab my wrists!" Frithwynne yelled. "No, drop the pot! Grab my wrists!"

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Truth

Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged
Dafyd
Shipmate
# 5549

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Daniel wakes up to hear Clawdine yelling. He runs over to find her leg clutched by a skeletal hand. He tries to Turn Undead, only to find that he cannot remember how, or else that the power will not come. Not having had time to equip himself with a new spear, or light a torch, he takes one of his silver crossbow bolts. He tries to ***stab the arm*** with it. He ***senses evil only if there is time*** and only gets in the water himself if he can't reach the arm otherwise.

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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams

Posts: 10567 | From: Edinburgh | Registered: Feb 2004  |  IP: Logged
Net Spinster
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# 16058

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Mary turned in shock at Clawdine's screams as she had been watching Frithwynne try to approach the ponies. She rose and ran towards the wagons calling for help. The oxen around the wagons were already spooking.

When she saw Daniel and others start running towards Clawdine, she turned and loosened the line around her waist and knotted a large loop in it. She'll try ***roping Clawdine*** so people can get a better grip on her.

[ 18. June 2014, 19:13: Message edited by: Net Spinster ]

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spinner of webs

Posts: 1093 | From: San Francisco Bay area | Registered: Dec 2010  |  IP: Logged
Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153

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Gunriana wanders between the wagons in deep thought. The prophetess's vision had been a true one - the walk through the woods, the caravan, and the dwarf were both foreseeings and symbols. What worries the witch is the meaning the the symbol had inspired in her, the image of the dwarf might have represented "our adversary or the slave of our adversary". If Trepik's venture was merely wicked or criminal, then that was what the fates had written, and Gunriana's obligation to aid him held firm. But if the caravan, and the guarded wagon, were part of their enemy's schemes, was she bound?

She had been helping one of the wagoneers feed and water the oxen, when she heard the scream, and raced across the camp to find several of her companions gathered around Clawdine, trying to haul her away from something that had seized her leg.

The sea-witch had learned her lesson from the storm. It is not always necessary to meet strength with strength. Getting as close as she can to the knot of struggling figures, she summons her ***Rune Magic*** and cuts
Logr, the river-rune, onto the grassy bank, calling forth the ungraspable force of the stream, and willing the fingers that had taken hold to loosen and to slip and slide from her limbs.

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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"

Richard Dawkins

Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005  |  IP: Logged
Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505

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'Cut it orf me! Cut it orf me!' Clawdine implored the doctor, assuming that everyone could see what was terrifying her.

All around her the shadows heaved, the earth rose and corpses writhed. 'They were tricked, and they 'aven't finished their fightin'!' she yelled at Gunriana, before passing out completely.

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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.

Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005  |  IP: Logged



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