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Social: Rustmonsters and the Sounds of Ultimate Suffering

Page history last edited by rgs 14 years, 10 months ago

I hate you, Whirlpool.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* The Front Lines *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

    This is a hilly area on the outskirts of southern Sendor. Bludguni and Myrrish troops face each other across a wide valley. With the spring thaw, the entire valley has been churned into a disgusting, bloody mud by the two armies. Bludguni forces currently hold the pass and the high ground, and are camped behind the hills. The Myrddion army is camped a little distance away, by a stream fed from a different, cleaner valley without a handy pass. Up near the head of the valley, the Bludgun army has left behind a huge mass grave that is said to be haunted.

Near the Myrrish camp, far away from the actual front lines as to be considered fairly 'safe' at the moment, is the de-facto command center and entertainment establishment in the area, a tavern called the Blushing Rosalia. It's somewhat the worse for wear, but the many officers and adventurers in the army provide the owners with a steady supply of coin.

Not far from the Blushing Rosalia are the numerous tents that make up the field hospital, where the wounded are brought back to be healed. The air near those tents smells of whiskey and herbal poultices.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-- Contents --=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

 Darshan         Mechagodzilla                                         0s   4h

 Roland          6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes 2m   1h

 Agril           A young human in priestly vestments                   30s  54m

 Alina           Silver winged, silver haired, purple eyed, ethereal b 1m   1h

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Exits -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Myrrish Camp <MC>         Fort Getty's <FG>         Road To Sendor <RTS>

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

<Meet> You join Agril.

Roland pulls back the canvas doorway to the healer's tents, "Well, let's at least make sure our guys are hurting less than theirs."

Alina nods and steps into the tents, checking to see if she's got anything to do, specifically.

GAME: Darshan rolls perform: (4)+6: 10

GAME: Agril rolls Perform: (5)+5: 10

"Oooooooh! Maugrim! He's got a tail! It...falls off! Off! Off! Maugrim! He's got a taaaaiiiiiill!!" Darshan throws his arm out. He leans on Agril, Agril leans on him, one of those cheerful times in the midst of the warcamp. The two military men carry a case of...something, between them. Something Alina's sure not to approve of. Altheans don't, you see. Not generally. And, neither of them perform particularly well.

"Wait, how does this song go again? Maugrim doesn't have a tail! Well, not anymore, anyways!" He's trying to keep up with Darshan, and he's passable at the actual singing, but he's so confused! He's also a little tispy. "Perhaps it's hypo.. crit..ical of me to drink after chastizing that one officer, but honestly, he deserved it. He was drunk when he was more needed than I am, and the other priests all but YELLED at me have some."

Alina wanders back outside as she's promptly ordered to rest. And she spots Darshan and Agril. The priestess squints at the pair, and then arches her brows, "What're you two up to?"

Roland looks up, and squints, "Wha the? Bloody hells...It's not enough that we're at war, but you two have to go off and drink up all the liquor and then add injury to insult by trying to deafen the rest o' us?!"

"Tail," Darshan insists, nudging the other paladin. And clears his throat, "He has a tail! It falls off, it falls--aaahhh-ha-hah," he blinks at Alina, then. He too, blinks at Agril, who plays support-of-the-moment, "I don't think we're insulting anyone," so very solemn. "He's just jealous that he doesn't know the chorus. ...Roland!" roared, he turns around, exuberant. "You should sing with us!" ...to Agril, "He can sing, mrm, can't he? ...or is that just when he's mrm, chasing pretty girls? I hear he does that quite a bit."

"What on earth are you talking about?" says Agril, confused at Darshan. He takes a drink from his flask, though, then glances between the gathered souls right here and pauses for a moment, "Brother Darshan, I believe we're about to be in trouble."

Alina smirks a little, then nods, "Oh, yes, Roland, you should sing with them." She laughs, and then nods to Agril, solemnly. "Oh yes, big trouble. What if there was an attack? What would you do, then, hmm?"

Roland throws his arms up in the air, "Sing? Sing?! That drunken rambling couldn't POSSIBLY be called singing...Agril! Did you go and drink -ALL- the alcohol?!?" One has to have priorities you know...

"We are always in trouble," solemn, "Me more than you," he sounds sad about that, Darshan does. "I really don't know why." He does seem sad, and he frowns somewhat at Alina, as though the gentle Althean might have the answer. "We could get her to sing, too, maybe. Except most of your women don't sing," he frowns at Agril. "...do they? I heard Greta mrm, sing once. It was frightening." Roland for the moment gets ignored. Roland is NO FUN. He doesn't want to sing with them.

"..what?" says Agril, giving Roland a confused look. Then he eyes Darshan and then says to Alina, "Oh, I can sober up right quick if that's the case. But the truth of the matter is that I was more or less yelled at and if I didn't, I'd be in big trouble with some people." He groans.

Alina eyes Agril, "With whom?" And then she laughs, quietly, at Darshan. She grins, "It is because you are mischievous." She mms, "I can sing, yes. But I am not sure your song is appropriate to an Althean." She grins a little at Roland.

Roland shakes his head, "The lizard's wailing isn't appropriate to any but the deaf and dead..." Agril is just given a look that says 'Uh-huh...suuuuree you can'

"She was trying to offer you a lap-dance," the sith says, giving Agril a shake. "I don't know why you didn't take her up on it," he looks towards Alina. "He insisted the Althean sisters would kick his tail if he did. ...mrm. You know, for all the smiles, you must be very frightening." The look's quizzical now, and he frowns at Alina some more. "...perhaps your wings catch on fire?" Altheans are vicious.

Agril looks quite shocked. "Darshan!" He points a finger at him. "You very well know that none of that is true! I was ordered to take some time off and have a few drinks bu the other surgeons I was working with. They said that if I didn't, I was liable to explode in a fiery burst of divine energy."

Alina laughs brightly at Darshan, and then shakes her head. "No, my wings most ertainly do not." She then peers at Agril, and Darshan, before shrugging. "You two make my head hurt." She appears amused, though.

Roland says, "So you took time off in an establishment with liquor and ladies given to lap dances?" There's a brief pause before the bard bursts into laughter, "Oh my...Darshan, who is this and what have you done with the real Agril?""

Alina grins at Roland, "He got him drunk is what he's done."

Djordo has arrived.

<Meet> Djordo joins Agril.

"I think she was sad you did not notice," Darshan says, patting Agril's shoulder clumsily. Drunk, or tipsy, it even has that edge of friendship to it. The two stand talking to Alina and Roland, a cask of some kind held between them. "And I think Alina is very sad we are making her head hurt." He frowns, too. "We must be bad paladins." Then, "And Roland will not sing with us."

"Really, Alina. We make your head hurt? You could be making socks, you know." He winks at her, then starts to wander off. "I'll be *right* back."

Agril has left.

Whirlpool has arrived.

Alina eyes Agril, "Or I could hit you." She hmphs, and then shakes her head at Darshan, "I am, a little." She smiles lightly, and plants her hands on her hips.

Roland says, "Making socks?...Ooh boy."

"I am a terrible paladin," Darshan mutters, and takes another fill from the flask. He stands looking at it a moment, before lowering it to his side, and looking out over the camp, the field... "I am a terrible paladin," he repeats, and looks over at the other two, frowning somewhat. "...you know..." and he just...stops. "One knows nothing about socks."

Alina huffs, and then she shakes her head at Darshan, "No, you are not. You just behave differently." She looks between those she stands with.

A dwarf comes running out of a tent. "WATCH IT! EVERYONE STAND BACK! WATCH IT! GET YOUR SWORDS UP!"

The dward is chasing something.

This reddish orange creature is wiggling its antennae.

And?

It is making its way towards Darshan. Oh yes. That's exactly wrhat no one ever wants to see on the front.

A Rust Monster.

Roland says, "You are a terrible musician though...." Then there's a pause as the dwarf rushes through as he looks back with a snort, "See what you woke up!""

"One supposes..." the sith looks confused on that a moment, and pats Agril on the shoulder again, except the man's left, and he's left frowning at the air. "I suppose not. But you know I did a terrible thing. I like you, Alina. You are a good mrm, Althean. But one asked you to dance mrm, so Jenner would be jealous. He likes you, and he is afraid to say anything, or hit you over the head or otherwise be romantic." The sith sways slightly. "You should give him advice, Roland." Then very seriously, "He thinks she has pretty wi--" oh.

Oh.

Well...

SHIT.

And that's when he's left there standing like a baffoon. Staring. While the hindbrain struggles to tell the forebrain it should be afraid.

You have left channel Public.

You have left channel WhirlChan.

Alina blinks a few times at Darshan, arching her brow, "What?" And then, she gasps, "Oh. Well. I'm glad I'm in armor...?" She reaches to her back and takes her staff in her hands, eying the beast ahead of them.

The beast promptly hugs Darshan's boot.

Sort of. The metal armored footwear then dissolves and it seems to consume the rusty orange flakes by slurping them up. One can almost hear the 'om nom nom'.

Toes. Wriggly, wriggly lizard--toes. Darshan stares at it, at his foot, at his...

It is the scream of ultimate agony. The sound of ultimate suffering, of ultimate torture, the sound of souls lost to the hells...

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!!!!"

 

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Djordo bursts out of his purple Tsurai fairing wagon, acting as if a cannonball had gone off inside of it, and looking about with panic. "What's what? Shouting? Are we being attacked? Some kind of horrible assault?" He readies his blade for smiting--"Where's our foe?" And he hears the cry of Darshan the Mighty, and goes to assist.

Set.

Xander has arrived.

Alina has disconnected.

Roland quickly flashes his hands, tracing out the wings of the Phoenix across his chest as he backs his shiny-self away from the all-you-can-rust buffet that is Darshan. "Lizard! Are you going to just stand there or are you going to smite?!?"

Alina has connected.

The Rust Monster, and that is clearly waht ti is, promptly takes another step forward. It begins to work on Dar's other boot.

The dwarf catches up with it just as Dar's boot turns to dust. He is now somewhat barefoot!

OM NOM NOM goes the lizard.

Needless to say, Dar's screaming is getting some attention! People are coming out to look.

"It's. EATING. ME. ALIVE!" Roars the lizard, and he stump-walk-there's-a-monster-eating-my-foot-runs towards a...oh gods. Oh gods. That's a--that's a--it's a GIANT TREE TRUNK. He grabs the fallen thing, clasping claws into it, gripping hard, and lifts it over his head. "BY-BY...BY DAEUS, RUST FIEND, YOU WILL BE SMITED!" ...and that is what he'll say to the Altheans when he explains how he got his foot broken.

Djordo gives a strange look at this scene as the never-before-seen critter that seems to be assaulting Darshan is not the kind of terrible fire-spewing sort of monster he figured it would be. "He would boldly smite the raging giants of Dran, but fears such a small creature? Strange aversons dwell in the Paladin's heart! What devilry is this?" He begins looking for some kind of box or sack, perhaps, to capture the large and terrifying... bug.

"What in tarnation are you doin', son?" says the dwarf, quickly yanking the rust monster back by his leash. Just in time for Darshan to break his foot.

Alina stares at the dwarf, "Is that thing yours?" She winces when Darshan smashies his own foot. Ouch.

Roland looks t othe dwarf, "Wait...what?" Then a frown as he squints, trying to ascertain if it's a dwarf or just a gnome with a really bad beard.

"Ooooowww..." it comes out more like a moan, and Darshan lands abruptly on his tail--or not. He ends up clutching the poor, broken toes and trying to hope backwards, and...crashes into the log. He lands there, half-curled and clutching the poor foot, and when he sees the rustie still there--all goes still. All goes still, and he snarls, reflexively, reflexively baring hard his teeth...and trying to conceal the tears at the corners of his eyes. THAT HURT SO MUCH.

"I'm sorry about your boots," says the dwarf, haulling it back a few steps. It's like a large, overly enthusiastic dog that just wants to leap on Darshan.

And eat his armor.

The dwarf drops some metal shavings on the ground which it begins to slurp up greediyl. It's a very, very large Rust Monster. "This is my trusty steed! I ride it into battle. You've never seen a wall of steel fall quicker than at the sight of a rust monster! ISn't that right?" He pets it on the head.

Alina frowns, and then she moves towards Darshan, though she's careful around the Rust Monster. She likes her armor. "Please keep it away from those of us with armor. We would appreciate it." She moves to tend to Darshan's broken foot.

It hurts and stings. Darshan...can't stop snarling. Growling. It's like another overly enthusiastic dog. They're uh, having a territory war. Or something. He doesn't notice Alina. He's going growl growl growl at the rustie!

Roland is just...in awe, he even takes a step closer towards the dwarf to watch the rustie munch away.

Djordo has no armor, and he sheaths his sword, and is thus all but immune from the wages of the rust monster's appetites. "An interesting beast! It has the power to destroy and eat all things of metal? I wonder--does it like some more than others?" He looks down to the fallen Paladin.

releashed, the rust monsters snorts around, hoping to find more goodies. There's TONS of goodies around here, after all. The dwarf gives its leash another tug. "That it does," he says to Djordo. "I call 'er Drooly, honestly."

"Maugrimspawn!" snarled, an outburst from the paladin. And the outburst promptly makes his foot hurt. He jerks, and ends up clutching the poor, throbbing thing--toes go where they shouldn't, bones go where...it hurts. It hurts. And there is ARMOR EATING MAUGRIM-SPAWN sitting there licking its...

...its...

Mandibles.

And that is totally not cute. Dangit.

Alina yelps and her wings flutter as she steps back. "Darshan! Hold still and I'll fix your foot!" She prods Darshan.

Roland says, "Try fixing his head while you're at it, maybe if you twist his neck all the way around he might find an actual key for those drunken lyrics he was going on about earlier..."

"Stay back. I really am sorry about your, er, boots," says the dwarff to Darshan, though he's more than happy to keep his distance with his Drooly pet.

Arngrim has connected.

"Then get-it-out-of--" ooowww, "Get it out of my sight!" and he's not holding still. The fool almost puts his foot down, and almost steps forward in an aborted lunge towards the creature. Alina's hand plunks the Daeusite right back down, though. Altheans are like that. They remind the silly Daeusites that there's such a thing as common sense when faced with Ultimate Evil. Sometimes. Even if the Ultimate Evil is a cute and cuddly little rust monster.

Xander has disconnected.

Alina pats Darshan's shoulder when he sits back down. "Good. Now calm down." She waves at the dwarf, "You really ought to keep that thing on a shorter leash." Then, she inspects Darshan's foot. Yep. It's broken. She puts her hand on it and chants, "Blessed Mother, grant us your comfort and heal this child's pain."

Darshan's in a royal mood, by now. "I am not a--and he ate my--" And then the pained, half-snarled words dissolve into a look of shock, a look of shock as Alina's prayer kicks in. The bones stir, realign themselves, snap back into place. The cords whip around, refasten to bone, muscle regrows...and that...

...that hurts. "...my..." it comes out hoarse. Half-spoken. And if he wasn't...awake...well. Now he is. He really is.

"I really am sorry you broke yoru own foot," says the dwarf, casually, making sure that everyone knows it wasn't his Rust Monster that did it! Still, he begins to lead it back.

Roland looks to Darshan and shakes his head. "Hey Dar...Is this the reaction you'd want Riamun's bards to hear about?"

Alina scowls at the dwarf, "He broke his foot because you couldn't control your blasted rust monster! Keep it on that blasted leash or it's going to get it one day." Oh yes, she is threatening. It hurt one of her paladins!

"Well, I do! Some idiot put a *metal* padlock on his door! I specifically instructed they need wooden deadbolts!" The dwarf, though he has not yet given his name, sniffs.

Serene has arrived.

Alina shakes her head at the dwarf, "He's your mount, he's your responsibility, regardless." She's insistent!

It hurts. Darshan bends protectively over his foot, holding it. The poor foot. Breaking a foot isn't a pleasant experience. It isn't something someone stands on, and proudly declares themselves after. It's something that hurts like...

...like hell. And so he still clutches it, and only belatedly remembers to snarl at the dwarf, because that...hell. It hurt!

Xander has connected.

There is a dwarf.

He is standing there with a rope tied around the neck of a large, orange colored creature. It appears to be finishing off the remnants of Darshan's armored boots.

It burps.

Roland says, "Why keep it in a cage? Why not just use a rope and stake out a place for it?"

Djordo points at Darshan's foot and denies him the dignity of self-inflicted battlewounds by casting a cure wounds spell of the light variety. "That would need to be a hefty rope--such a large creature looks like it could tear most twine just by pulling at it. A cage is probably less likely to cause problems, assuming that it's secured without metal."

Darshan puts the foot on the ground again, tests it. "One..." a breath. Two. The second, deeper. "...with regrets, I will be filing charges for the destruction of property. You, or the mrm, handler. You may work it out between you who pays for it," oh, he does not like that thing. "I'd prefer you took the druid's suggestion in the future."

"We lock it in stables, normally, when I'm not walking it. He's very well behaved!" The dwarf looks a little offended by al lthis talk and he sniffs. "I really am sorry about your boots. I'll pay for them. That's no trouble. Charges, though.." He huffs.

Arngrim has left.

Whirlpool has partially disconnected.

"What in the hells is all this ruckus about?" The deep barritone belongs to Xander, as he strides out of the camp, looking around with a deep, dark frown. By the looks of him, he rushed here. "I've received urgent word of what was described as a 'terrible monster' attacking a sunbla--" His eyes fall on the rust monster. He manages to keep a straight face and keep from going into hysterical laughter, but only just.

Rust monsters are frightening. Darshan still doesn't want to get near the thing, and he...well. Keeping his feet is nothing short of a miracle, and his head probably feels as though it's been run through with sandpaper. "...alright," he says, finally. "One mrm, has a te--..." he looks at the rust monster. Then the dwarf. "...how about we meet at the Rosalia tomorrow, then?" Xander's laughter just makes him lash his tail, ok!

Alina has been there, eying the dwarf, and when he talks of paying Darshan back, she nods, approving. She pats Darshan again, then steps aside, to idly preen her wings.

"I wouldn't worry about it," says the dwarf, shaking his head. "I promise, he won't get near you again! Come along, Drooly." He begins to lead the Rust Monster off. It stops to drool on Xander's boots. And sniff at him for metal./

Roland says, "You named him...Drooly? Truly?"

Xander lifts his hands, tightening his gloves and clothes to make certain they cover any tidbits of metal he doesn't want devoured. Reaching into his belt, he pulls a small metal disc, offering it to the thing as a treat and distraction as he pets it on the head with his other hand. "Why, hello there, terrible monster." he says, grinning just a little bit.

Darshan drops atop the log again, and drops his head in his hands. He looks as though he has the headache of eternity coming up, or already in place. An eye casts to the poor flask he'd been so cheerfully enjoying, just moments ago, and then he just sort of...moans, and...yes. Drops his head in his hands. Stares at the insides of his palms for a while.

The Rust Monster thumps its leg on the ground when Xander pats it on the head. The Dwarf then begins to lead it away. "Keep an eye on that lizard. I don't quite thin k he's right in the head. Smashed his own foot, he did," he tells Xander.

Poor lizard. He's so hiding behind the Althean.

Alina pats Darshan's shoulder as he drops down, and offers, "Do you need some water, Brother?" She's seen that look before! Sort of. He looks like she'd imagine a lizard would if the lizard was hungover.

Xander just bows his head, but those with the keenest eye can see him just... shaking, very slightly, with the quiet laughter. He can't help it! It's just so funny! To him, anyway. Hopefully Darshan won't notice. He composes himself before too long, striding over to said lizard. "Are you alright?" he asks. After all, he just went through a Terrible Monster Attack!

"...water?" Darshan croaks. He tightens his hands momentarily. What he'd really like is a nice little rustie-on-a-stick, and other horriblen non-Daeusy thoughts!! "Mrm, yes, Sister, with one's thanks." A pause, then. "And...thank you," to her and Djordo. And...could the rustie come with ketchup on it? Please? ...he sort of...well, blinks up at Xander. "...please tell me you have only two arms," very solemn, with all the coherency he can muster. Which may not be very much at this point.

Alina clanks off to find some water for the lizard, returning a few moments later with a fresh waterskin. "Here you are." She glances around, then peers at Djordo, giving a quick smile, "Hi there. I'm Alina."

Roland shakes his head and steps back, "Looks like he's in good hands...So good night olks."

"I shall take that as a no, you are not." Xander replies smoothly. Of course he has only two arms! In his natural form, that is. Othervise, numbers may vary. "Anything I can do to help?" Pause. "No, I cannot do anything to the creature. It is what it is." Cute and cuddly!

Roland has disconnected.

"That is very good," says the sith, sort of dazedly, and he says this as though it is a very good thing. And it is. The lack of additional arms just means Xander is not a rust monster. Among other things. It's with that same dazedness he accepts the waterskin. "One mrm, saw Maugrim's treachery in miniature, today." It was so not cute and cuddly.

Xander can be a rust monster if he wants to, but he'd best not tell Darshan that one. He peers at Darshan, then looks at Alina, inquisitive. He doesn't SOUND alright at all!

And hell yes it was cute and cuddly. All it wanted to do was give Darshan a hug.

Alina blinks at Xander, and she wonders, "What?" She looks at Darshan and squints.

"He favors bugs," muttered, and he takes a drink from the skin. Blinks, and looks somewhat better. "...bugs. There's mrm..." Darshan stops, and looks up at Alina, "Yes, Sister? Had you said something?"

Alina shakes her head, "No. Are you sure you're alright, Brother?"

Valeska has arrived.

<Meet> Valeska joins Alina.

"...just in a sort of shock, m'lady. One had no idea the forces of darkness included bugs among their number," solemn, and Darshan makes to stand, is too careful, for a moment, of the foot. "Now one knows. ...why is it I've not heard of this before?" a quiet sort of bewilderment touches the voice. He stands there with Alina, Djordo, and Xander, a rust monster having just...visited. An evil rust monster.

Djordo glances at the holy warrior. "It's not a member of the forces of darkness, you know. It's just a large and somewhat dim-witted creature with a taste for hammered steel. The only damage done was to yourself as a result of your own over-eagerness to clobber it. Metal-eating aside, it appeared to be like a chittering cow," he says, pausing to wonder if that is or is not a horrible thing to imagine, "...which is hardly to par with the forces we've seen so far. I thought your homeland was a wet place! Have you never seen insects of unusual size?"

"Now, now, paladin. Don't be so quick to judge. Much like you, they cannot help being what they are - lamnivores." Xander says, taking a seat next to poor, rattled Darshan. You know... Carnivores, which feed on flesh, herbivores which feed on plants, omnivores which mix the two, and lamnivores which eat metal!

"It is a force of darkness," firmly, flatly, and the sith seems insistent on that point. "A force of darkness not unlike a swarm." Underneath the firm tone shows horror--something just tried to...eat him. Alive. "If Maugrim's evil laughter does not resound after this attack, one will be unsurprised." A scowl at Xander, "/Instinct/ does not always excuse a creature's behavior. Else it would mrm, be fine for me to devour that horse of yours."

"Ah, but to keep instinct in check, one needs intellect and willpower enough to do so. Much like a typical wolf will see a sheep as a fitting meal and attack it without a second thought, so the creature sees metal objects, belong they to someone or not." Xander explains. "I do understand your feelings on this matter in particular, however. Cigarette?" To calm the nerves with chewing and smoke!

Sophia has connected.

"...cigarette," the sith agrees, accepting one. Silence, then. "...and some of those nuts, if you have them. Please." When the cigarette is lit, he closes his eyes and inhales the smoke, lets it draw away scent, the smell of the camp, the smell of...all those things a sith's nature responds to. And it helps. It helps, that. "One might...perhaps it's time to visit the front lines, a while." A quiet, self-depreciating smile, a glance downwards, "One's Sister perhaps worries I do not give her enough to do."

Alina eyes Darshan, and she pats his shoulder. "IF you do, please be careful." She rubs her eyes then, and mentions, "Well, I'm quite exhausted. If you will all excuse me?" She waves and then clanks off to whatever tent she's claimed as her own.

Xander snaps his fingers, creating flame to light the cigarette. He nods his farewell to Alina, and flips the silver cigarette box towards Djordo, offering him one as well. They're regular cigarettes, sadly. So they won't turn Darshan purple or make him burp bubbles or anything.

Alina goes OOC.

Alina has left.

"Yes, Sister," it's almost automatic. Darshan mumbles it around the cigarette and its scent. The claws shiver as he snatches it from his muzzle, and straightens. Relaxes. "...one will do my best." He looks at Xander, then, at Djordo. "Daeus honor you both," solemn. And, bare-footed, and holding the cigarette between his teeth, and otherwise, likely, looking ridiculous in the poor, shortened armor, he heads out towards the battlefield.

Player Name        On For Idle  COSMIC RAYS OF DEADLY FIRE!!

Sophia               0:14   1m 

Boshter              0:30  30m 

Dern                 0:30  30m 

Agril                0:30  30m 

Sandy                0:30  30m 

Whirlpool            1:29   3m 

Xander               1:46   1m 

Serene               1:49   1m 

Valeska              1:59  29m 

Asheliah             2:22  10m 

Alina                2:31  18s 

Darshan              7:40   0s  Whirlpool is super-mean  <---

Chandrakanta         8:42   7m 

Djordo              12:21   1m 

Maelstrom        4d 23:49  33m 

Lolth           23d 17:28  13m  Neca Eos Et Cape Res Eorum

16 Players logged in, 58 record, no maximum.

Djordo gives a bit of a wave to Darshan as he goes. "And may Tarien pay a little less attention to you for the rest of the day, noble paladin," he remarks with a bit of a wry grin.

Darshan goes OOC.

 

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