# Renfield: Of Sinners and Saints "On the Row of the Dead" (UPDATE)



## Renfield (Nov 4, 2003)

Bishop Archibald strode down the stone coridor. On this level of the Castle Kordryn: the Pillar of Justice, the marble floors and exotic tapestries were not required, the only ones who came to this floor had no need of such extravegance even if it was in Solars name. The Bishop was a tall man who had been powerful in build in his youth and remained powerful as his middle years began to fade into his silver years. He had long sandy blonde hair and a stern face used to giving commands. Afterall, in Tesh, he was as powerful as any baron or general, if not more so. For the government was the church and the church was the government, as it had been, and it should be, and as it always would be; and tonight, he would prove this to the citezens of his fair city.

Tonight every criminal on the Row of Death would die.

A smile slowly formed upon his lips at the thought. All those sinners hanging from the rafters, with their heads in baskets, or for the special 'guests' a slow blazing death at the stake. Ah yes, the special guests, the thought of them brought another smile to his face as he began to head down the stairs. He had just finished announcing the mass execution to the prisoners, he had also mentioned that three prisoners would be something of a grand finale, after all it wasn't every day a Solaran Bishop got his hands on three fiends such as they. A daywalker vampire, one who had sold his soul for his abilities, his power, a pity sunlight only rendered him human instead of ash. There was the southerner, he had a silver tongue that one, blessed by Talisar himself, and worse yet he dabbled in the chaos arts. Then there was the last one, he had been there for awhile, Archibald always thought he'd try to escape as that one had actually been blessed by Talisar. He would have to take a few extra special precautions with that one.

Yes, today would be a glorious triumph in the name of the Sun God, these sinners would die and he would be considered a saint. Or at least worthy of becomming an Arch Bishop and barring that he'd have an immense feeling of satisfaction. Today was a good day.

*****​
The tavern was dark despite the warm glow of the torchlight, still, the dim light did not dim the spirits of the people there. There was always celebration on the eve before an execution. Bar maids waded through customers passing out drinks to whomever paid or made themself or their order memorable enough to give to the right laughing red face. The bar keep was busy serving drinks and shouting to the maids to hurry up with the orders. A few bards played a lively jig on the upraised stage and a space had been cleared as much as possible for those who desired a dance... if that was what you could call the drunken stomping and hopping.

A few people were not so festive, for what reason was of little concern to the revellers, however on man in particular sat in a darkened booth observing the revelry with a passive look in his sharp green eyes. Magic hid him from prying eyes, and magic hid the magic that hid him so no one with the capability to sense magical aura's could notice him, and intricate series of enchantments that had cost him many a gold crown. Finally the one he expected took a seat before him after looking around the tavern. 

None could tell by looking unless they knew him personally, but the man was a low ranking officer at Kordryn, however that very occupation, along with a certain tarnished reputation the disguised one had greased many palms to discover, were the reasons he was here today. He man had the shadow of a beard that appeard to be in need of a shave or to be allowed to grow out. His eyes were gray, a relatively common trait among Teshians, and he had something of a high hair line and a head capped with dark brown hair flecked with gray. "Good of you to come." the disguied man said.

The guard nodded still looking around for observers. "Aye, just got off shift, had to go and change before I came to this pit." he said, he obviously preferred one of the other watering holes around town, likely a competitor of this one somewhere in the neighborhood.

"Stop looking around, you'll draw attention to yourself if you appear to not want people to notice you, do you want the inquisition breathing down your neck?" the man said lifting a brow.

"Nay, nay, just habbit I guess." the guard said finally focusing his attention on the one before him. "So what mischief do you want me to cook up with that handsome amount of coin you gave me and how terrible is my torment going to be should I mention this meeting to anyone?"

The man laughed and threw down a second pouch of coins "The second part of your payment for comming good sir." he said "As for the torment, hell or the abyss as is the want for any sinner, whether they be you or me. You'd simply find your way there much sooner than I." he said leaning over with a smile.

The guard laughed "Aye, aye, fare enough good sir, fair enough." he hefted the pouch twice testing it's wait before slipping it into his vest. "Now what sort of corrupt guard would I be if I didn't keep myself bound to the agreements of those who bribe me? I'd be dead by now for sure. So tell me what I'm getting paid so handsomely for and trust I'll keep silent about the task."


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## Black_Kaioshin (Nov 6, 2003)

Bump!!


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## Look_a_Unicorn (Nov 13, 2003)

*Lurks around story hour in hope of update*


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## Renfield (Nov 14, 2003)

Really sorry about the delay, been working on getting into college next semester and getting setteled in my job, not to mention internet is still dead at home. Regardless, coppying and pasting both SH's so I can work on them some tonight and hopefully have a quasi decent update for any faithful viewers out there.


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## Renfield (Nov 16, 2003)

*The 'Final' Dawn*

The sound of water dripping echoed through the darkened cell block, the sun had long since risen past the view of any of the cell windows and the torchlight seemed cold and rather unfriendly. The fact that there was a chill in the air didn't make things any better for the numerous prisoners on the Row of Death. A cough sounded from one of the cells, colds were common here, and did the bastard priests of the great and noble Solar tend to any of these prisoners ailments. No. For some of them it was the least of what they deserved, for many others they merely happened to bein the right place at the wrong time, such was the way of Teshian society.

In one cell sat a man who was quite different from many of the others. A man with long nigh perfect blonde hair, healthy skin that seemed to shine and a painfully handsome face who sat amidst the hay every bit the prince, nay, king. He could have been at a nobles ball for all the care that seemed to show upon his face. The glow of the sun was approaching a darker shade of orange. Soon the prisoners would be allowed the small kindness of a last supper before they were led to the Final Dusk. A rather dramatic, if none too creative, title for being executed before sunset. Then again, Tesh wasn't exactly known for it's originality, the rigid theocracy that it was. The man had rather simple brown prison clothes that he wore like royal robes and a rune etched collar around his neck. 

The sound of a door opening echoed through the long hall of the prison and the blonde man smiled slightly before standing up and brushing some of the hay off of his prison garments. He was captured but a few weeks prior and felt there was no reason to let a little thing like prison bring him down. Footsteps sounded down the hall as a guard began asking each of the prisoners what they desire for their last meal, the scribbling of a quill on parchment and then a few steps to the next cell, another order, more scribbling. Everything else was silent save for that dripping, which simply added to the atmosphere, if somewhat negatively. Finally the man arrived at the cell next to his own.

"What do you want for your last meal?" the guard asked simply. 

The voice from within was quite civilized and sounded rather dignified as well. "A nice salad please, fresh, tomatos and carrots but no onions. With Gelden Valley dressing and a glass of Myradaran Red." The pen scribbled some more and the guard moved on to the blonde mans cell.

"What do you want for your last meal?" the guard asked in the same monotonous tone.

"Steak, medium rare, with steamed vegetables as the side and a glass of Fyrewine." he responded. The guard went further down writing down every prisoners order until another voice piqued his interest.

"Might I have one of the prisoners?" the voice asked.

The pen stopped scribbling and the guards voice was hesitant "Um, I'm sorry, but that is one meal we cannot permit you to have."

Silence from the voice for a moment before it spoke once again "Well, they are all going to die anyhow, why not one of the child murderers to ease your conscience?"

"Well, I would, but the Bishop is pretty insistant on them being executed for the public to see, and don't get any ideas about feeding on one before the public either." the guard said "The Bishop is also very insistant on the form of death the prisoners shall have."

The voice was silent for another moment "Ah, well, how about a nice goat then."

The guard chuckled "Now that can be arranged." he said and the pens scribbled shortly before his footsteps echoed through the hall and the door creaked open and banged shut with the final sound of the door being locked and barred.

The man approached the door to his sell curious about his neighbor. "A salad? Not the most filling of meals for ones final evening." he said, his voice was cultured and seemed to drift through the air like a song. 

The others voice was equally appealing to the ears, though a little more in that it was strong, dignified, and convincing "Yes, but it is my meal none the less, I happen to enjoy salad."

"Ah, I see, well I wasn't critisizing your taste in food, I myself enjoy a good salad from time to time." the blonde man said.

"Understood. Would you care to enlighten me as to your name so that I might know who is responcible for the last civilized conversation I am to partake of?" his neighbors voice asked.

"Ah yes, I am Morbus, and you sir?"

"I would be Trill."

"A pleasure to make your aquaintance Trill." Morbus said and was about to speak once more when a voice from directly across from his cell interrupted.

"A delay in the eventual fate of all is possible..." spoke the shakey voice that seemed to tremble on the border of sanity. "should one not allow for the anihilation of creation."

Both Trill and Morbus were silent for a moment not entirely sure what to make of the voice until Trill spoke up. "And you would be good sir?"

"I would be Luck!" the voice said, gaining in fervor as though glad to have someone listen.

Morbus chuckled "Ah, luck, something we could use right about now." he said enjoying the irony of such a name.

there was silence from the voice, and just when it seemed he had gone silent for good he spoke "Well, Luck is always with Luck, though I can't remember if that is my name... I think it might have been something else, maybe it was something that *means* luck..." the voice trailed off a moment as the owner of it contemplated the possibilities of it's name. Meanwhile Trill spoke up.

"So Morbus, how long have you been within these walls?" 

"Ah, about three months I believe, a mere pittance to some here I'm sure." the man replied to his neighbor.

"Hmm, three years here, I seem to be a prize catch for them... While we're making idle conversation what are you in for?" The voice was deep, likely from a more southern climate.

"Ah, not entirely sure, I think they confused me for someone else as I am innocent of all the charges put against me." Morbus said, they could have been discussing business over morning tea for all the concern in their voices.

A pause, likely his neighbor nodding in agreement "Yes, I myself am innocent, well... apparently involving consorting with a demon to save a town from humanoids is a crime here in Tesh."

Morbus nodded and chuckled. Some time passed and idle chatter was made between the two prisoners with Luck piping in every now and then until finally he said something odd that caught both prisoners attention once more "It's almost time! Almost time! You can put off the inevitable if you only promise to keep the runestone of creation from being destroyed!" this sentance was far less cryptic than his first though didn't support his sanity any more.

Trills voice was the first to respond "What exactly is this 'Runestone of Creation'?" he asked an obvious interest in his voice though one might have dismissed it as him merely being polite to one who was obviously talking nonsense. Regardless Luck spoke on.

"From the black tower, from the time long ago, before history. Before the chaos war." Luck spoke his voice a tad off as always nothing changing save for the words.

"Black tower? I've never heard of a black tower..." Morbus said his interest piqued as well. 

"Neither have I," Trill said and Morbus knew his interest to be genuine "do go on Luck."

"Go on?" the unstable voice said in a confused tone "Not much to go on about, pretty simple really, if you agree to keep the runestone from being destroyed, you go free."

Morbus paused before shrugging "I don't see why not."

"After I've dealt with the Warden of this pit sure, it sounds interesting, count me in." came Trills reply.

Luck laughed a decidedly mad laugh "Allright, then we'll be free soon, all of us."

Before either of the other two could speak the sound of the door opening rang through the hall and multiple footsteps were heard as the prisoners meals were brought in. "Allright, let's give them their meals and make it quick." came the voice of the guard who had taken the orders. One by one the prisoners were served their meals and the silent sounds of silverware on plates were heard as many of the prisoners began to dig in glad for the reprieve from the gruel and watered soup and stale bread they had consumed thus far. Morbus had his meal given to him and nodded his thanks to the guard. The man continued down until finally the sound of a bleating goat followed by the quick opening and shutting of a door was heard. The footsteps made their way back and the sound of the door opening and shutting followed by the locking was heard once more.

Morbus ate and drank his food in silence for a moment before speaking alloud to Trill "I wonder what form our execution will take." he said in between bites.

"I am unsure. Perhaps the guard knows." was Trills responce.

"Ah, an excellent idea." Morbus stood and moved to the door "Excuse me sir, could you by chance spare a moment for a question."

There was the sound of a soft chuckle and footsteps as the guard approached the cell. "Aye, and what would that question be?"

"Well, what manner of execution shall we have this evening?" he said it was only a few hours away. 

"Oh that." the guard said, and thought a moment. Morbus could see the guard through the bars of his cell door, he was of middle years with gray eyes common amongst Teshians and a high hair line with brown hair that was likely middle length. "Well, ye two, and the day walking vampire at the end of the hall there are all special cases."

"Really?" Morbus asked his interest piqued "And what does that entail?"

The guardsman chuckled "Oh, merely death by burning alive at the stake." he said.

Morbus nodded to himself and sighed "A pity that some of the men here are innocent," he said to the guard "that such corruption should exist in a kingdom devoted to Solar that such innocent men must die such horrible deaths." he added shaking his head.

The guard smirked and nodded "Aye, a pity, such corruption and all that." he said and laughed "Never know who might be bought for the right price, or what they might do, such a shame... Verata!" Morbus lifted a brow as he heard the guard speak the draconic word for 'open' before the sound of numerous cell locks clicking as all the doors were simultaneously unlocked. Slowly a smile crawled across Morbus' face as he stepped out and watched other prisoners poked their heads from their cells in disbelief. He then noticed Trill as he stepped forward and saw that the man was of medium height with dark brown skin indicating heritage spawned from the deep south or perhaps the jungles of Kharut. The only hair on his head was a goatee, apparently he had managed to earn shaving rights, an understanable thing considering the mans obvious bearing and charisma. He too had a rune etched collar around his neck and the standard prison clothes. 

"What prompted this wonderful turn of events?" Trill asked the guard as the prisoners began looking around seeming to get the idea that they weren't all being lead to their deaths at once.

"Let's just say someone must like someone in here, or at the least really dislike the Bishop and have an intense desire to make the man look like a fool, regardless that someone had lots of coin." the guard said chuckling towards the end.

Morbus nodded "Ah yes, understood, who might this benefactor be?"

Trill nodded in agreement to the choice of question "Yes, I'd like to know who I have to thank."

The guard shrugged "Well, the man was smart, wouldn't give me any information, didn't even give me his name, likely disguised his voice too. Regardless he had cash." The two prisoners nodded their understanding before the guard promptly punched himself in the face. Upon witnessing the look of confusion he chuckled "One of you managed to get out, surprise me, then locked me in the cell after taking my weapons and keys and freeing all the prisoners." he explained drawing his sword and dagger offering the blades to the two. "Seeing as you and the vamp at the end of the hall are all special prisoners it'll be believable that you freed me. I should be able to high tail it out of the city before they think to begin using magic to question me."

Trill nodded and smiled "Thanks then my friend." he said and clapped the guard on the shoulder "May fortune favor you."

The guard entered the cell as Morbus locked it behind him and tossed the dagger to Trill. Sounds of a brief struggle came from outside as the prisoners surprised and took the guards beyond the hall. the blonde man then caught the attention of one of the prisoners and tossed him the keys "Free all of the other prisoners as well." he called out remembering that the regular cells were beyond the door leading to this particular hall. The man nodded and Morbus knew he'd do as he said.

Trill moved to the cell door and looked to the guard "Would you happen to know how to remove these collars and where our things might be located?" he asked and the guard nodded "Aye, that I would, likely in the keeping of the Warden. Or at the least the keys would be. He's on the floor above." Trill nodded "Ah the warden... I owe him for these past three yea-" he was interrupted by the sound of a slamming door from the end of the hallway. Looking to Morbus they both seemed to have the same thought and approached the only cell with a door closed. The last cell. The one holding the vampire.

Looking through the small barred window of the door they saw a small wirey man being held by a tall well built man of pale skin and black hair sporting a top not. The taller man had his mouth to the mans neck but not in any form of embrace, it was quite obvious from the blood that trickled down that this was the vampire and he was feeding, Morbus lifted a brow and turned away to allow the man his privacy. "Likely hasn't had human blood for quite a while." he said more to himself than to Trill.

By now the hall was mostly empty though one man still remained, a lanky figure with stringy unkempt brown hair looked around nervously as he slowly approached the two, "You'd be the ones who listened to Luck?" he asked his tone indicating that he was likely Luck and was referring to himself in third person.

"That would be us." said Morbus "I am correct in assuming that you are indeed Luck?" 

"I think so... I think my name is really something that means 'luck' not sure yet." he said furrowing his brow in puzzlement. "Come, I know a shortcut to where the Warden is."

Trill lifted a brow in interest "Oh, and how'd you come by this knowledge pray tell?"

Luck smiled "I used to work here, then I opened my mouth and asked the wrong thing, people can be sensitive to certain questions." he said his smile turning into a frown and his brow furrowing in memories. 

"Is that how you found yourself here?" Trill asked. 

Luck thought a moment "One of the reasons I think. Though it doesn't help to be fooling around with a clergymans daughter..." he said "Oh, and spouting heretical beliefs and philosophies either."

Trill and Morbus both gave the man a slight smile as the door behind them began to open and the top notted man stepped out. He looked at the two and smiled "Greetings." he said in a soft voice "I couldn't help but overhear while I was... eating, but would you mind if I joined you on your way to see the Warden?"

*****​


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## Look_a_Unicorn (Nov 16, 2003)

So in this region are vampires accepted (using the term loosely) in civilised society? Or is it just that the heroes are more cosmopolitan in their outlooks?

Either way, thanks for the update!


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## Black_Kaioshin (Nov 17, 2003)

Heh, vampires are more of an intellectual curiousity than anything else for us. Believe me, our characters have seen worse.


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## Renfield (Nov 19, 2003)

Probably should have clarified that he was on the row of death primarily because he was a vampire.


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## Black_Kaioshin (Nov 19, 2003)

Update, you filthy dwarf!!


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## Renfield (Nov 20, 2003)

*Vengeance, even small, is sweet.*

Keldrin growled in frustration as the boy helping him into his armor fumbled with the buckles, he had already dealt with plenty of incompetence this day and had little patience for more. It was only a moment ago whgen Sir Therus' squire had ran into the room frantic about a prison break. The warden thought the boy was overexagerating for a moment until he heard the alarm gong sound. Then he ordered the lad to help him into his plate and mail so that he might join the fray. Though Keldrin had a strong feeling the fray was going to come to him. 

Dammitall, why didn't they just portion out magical items found on prisoners amongst the knights and paladins, instead they had to keep them in a warded room not too far from his study. No, most of the prisoners were going to be trying for escape, the competent ones though, the ones who knew what they were doing, they were going to come for him. The boy finally got the last buckle in place and handed the Keldrin his sword. The sandy haired youth looked frightened and ready to faint, Sir Therus' had probably only recently raised the boy to being a squire for it was obvious the lad hadn't seen any mortal combat.

Bah, he'd be dealing with spellcasters two... the damnable collars, why couldn't they simply erect an anti magic field around these people and use those accursed collars for their little 'questioning' sessions, no, instead they gave him the key for that as well. He wondered if he had angered anyone recently  and shook his head frowning. No, no slight would be worth a prison break, one of the guards must have been caught unawares. The Warden placed his helm over his head and scowled. He was going to have to deal with the competent ones, likely more than one as well, ah well, today was a good day to die.

"Boy." he said to the squire.

The sandy haired youth looked up obvious fear in his eyes "Yes Sir?"

Sir Therus likely didn't want *this* to be the lads first combat, murderers and thugs, and lots of them too. Still, the lad had to learn sometime, he handed the boy his dagger and nodded "Run along and get yourself in a chain shirt and shield then join Sir Therus. It seems Solar has chosen today to test the lot of us. The boy nodded and set himself with a fearful determination before running out the door. It wasn't until Keldrin had finished strapping his gauntlets on and the boy was likely long gone when the thought occured to him that he could have given the boy the key to hide. Blast, well, hindsight and all that.

He unsheathed his sword, there was fighting outside, his guards likely wouldn't last to long. Lifting up his shield he moved in front of his desk, he wanted to get within melee right away, he wondered briefly who he'd be facing. It wasn't until the polished oak door opened that he smirked to himself as he saw who it was. How utterly ironic and fitting. Before him stood four men, three of them being the highlights of this evenings execution, the vampire, the chaos mage, and that damnable Talisaran Saint. Likely someone from the church of that bastard god arranged this. At least that was what he thought until his eyes fell upon the fourth, the stringy hair, the lanky form, yes Luck, that explained everything.

Readying his sword he prepared himself for the inevitable, the Blonde man held a sword, his bared arms held finely chisiled muscles that one would normally never see on a spellcaster. He and the vampire advanced. Keldrin managed to dodge a few of the wiry vampires punches but one connected and he felt it through his breast plate. He swore there must have been a dent, and this mail was enchanted! Next came the mage, he lunged forward with the blade, wielding it with an untrained hand but the unnatural strength with which he brought the blade down was inhuman. He felt pain shoot through his shield arm and growled as he swung his blade at the vampire, who hissed as the sword cut his chest, then promptly smiled as the wound began to knit right before his eyes. 

Keldrin parried another blow from the mage as the vampire pummeled into him. The saint tried to get at him with a dagger which he barely managed to dodge. He lashed out again this time favoring the mage with a strike from his blade making a succesful hit that would have dropped most soldiers but only made the man wince. Talisar was smiling upon these three, and in Solars own hallowed halls! That thought was the driving force behind his next strike this one hitting the vampire again. If he could just slay one he could die knowing he accomplished *something* but no, that hit was dodge. He felt a sharp pain in his gut and looked down to see the mages longsword had pierced his armor and was buried to the hilt. Likely sticking out the other side too. Another sharp pain under his arm as the Talisaran stuck his dagger under a gap in the mail. His last vision though was the vampire spinning around and bringing the back of his fist right into Keldrins face.

Today was a good day to die even in failure.


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## Look_a_Unicorn (Nov 20, 2003)

Heya Renfield- loved the post!
As regards writing style, did you switch to the "monsters" POV because it just made the combat that little bit more interesting- or was it to help us( & maybe your players?) realise that the world always has two sides & that killing may not always be the "righteous" option (not that I think the vampire would care!)

I just ask as one of the groups I'm playing in split neatly in half- two roleplayers who try to see the world the DM gives them, and two that see the world as stats & loot-possibilities (so like a CRPG)- and the way the DM tried to adjust the view of the way the non-RP's interacted with his NPC's was to give them occasional handouts of diaries & things.


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## Black_Kaioshin (Nov 21, 2003)

Bump.


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## Renfield (Nov 23, 2003)

Sort of a mix of both. The change in perception is something I do because I don't want to sound presumptuous by writing from one of the players point of views and potentially screwing it up. It also adds a little flavor and gives readers a little background into the world... which is still heavily in the making >.< As for the morality thing... Well, a couple of our players seem to need lessons in playing good aligned characters. A new campaign was started up (that may or may not appear on these boards) run by the person who played Delver in the last campaign and Morbus in this campaign. In said campaign we are all good aligned drow in Ched Nased (SP) shortly before it's destruction. Granted being good aligned drow living in a culture steeped in backstabbing one should have a little leeway in certain ethical issues I can't quite say that it is justified  to stab a random mage in the back and steal his stuff even if you are a chaotic good rogue.

The DM, considering it was late, the first game, and he didn't want to anihilate someone during the first session, decided to let it slide... Granted the backstabbing rogue was later stolen away from a priestess of Lolth who decided to play with him but yeah. Anyway, if that DM decides not to post up here and I actually finish the Of Children and Lost Souls thread. Then I'll be sure to post for that campaign as well. Bear in mind this is a *big* if.


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## Look_a_Unicorn (Nov 25, 2003)

Renfield said:
			
		

> Sort of a mix of both. The change in perception is something I do because I don't want to sound presumptuous by writing from one of the players point of views and potentially screwing it up.



Yeah, I know that feeling. Some of the characters in the Story Hour I wrote up didn't actually have any kind of history... so what do you do? Presumptously make one up for them, or elave a gaping hole in the background info of the Story Hour? I compromised by inventing a basic backgroud that the DM approved of. I shouldn't have worried that much though, none of them actually read the Story Hour, so it didn't matter after all.

"In said campaign we are all good aligned drow in Ched Nased (SP) shortly before it's destruction."
Sounds like a very cool setting!


"Granted the backstabbing rogue was later stolen away from a priestess of Lolth who decided to play with him but yeah.
Ahhhh delayed consequences of actions are THE best way of combining plot hooks & DM lessons...


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## Black_Kaioshin (Nov 28, 2003)

Bump.


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## Renfield (Dec 14, 2003)

*The unknown guests*

Robert was sitting at his desk reading, the farmer had been forced to sell his farm due to the poor crops and the fact that his one hired hand had died during the previous winter hadn't helped none, but he didn't let these things get to him. Bad things happened to all people, sometimes not the ones they should happen to, regardless though it was no reason to give in to the pain. So he sold his farm, which was a sizeable piece of land that brought him a decent profit, hopefully a profit that would allow him to stay in the inn in which he was currently located until he could find a job.

It was a nice place, not to cheap and not too expensive, and the innkeeper gave him a deal seeing as Robert was cousin to a friend. Robert was rather intelligent for a farmer, his father before him had collected many an old book on various subjects, carpentry was the topic of the current book Robert was reading as his father had also taught him a thing or three about that and he had proven to be rather competent. Perhaps he could work at making carriages or whatnot for nobles and visiting emmisaries, anything that kept a roof over his head and food in his mouth would do, well, just about anything.

As the lean brown haired ex-farmer was reading there was a bright flash, he gave a startled yell and turned to see three figures standing behind him, two of which radiated power while another man was pale with a lean wiry build whilst the last was wiry and had wild unkempt hair. All were in the uniform clothing of prisoners. 

One of the men, the one with long blonde hair and the powerful build stepped forward, his skin itself seemed to shine with power. "Excuse me sir," he said in a gentle moving voice "but could you please give us a moment, we need some privacy before we depart."

Robert nodded and closing his book departed the room deciding to take a break from reading and perhaps go downstairs and have a drink, afterall, he was more intelligent than most farmers.

*****​
"Well then, let us get back into our clothes, find something for Fib and the begone from this wretched city." Morbus said as he slipped his robes over his head. Trill followed suit with his own clothing as did Domok. Fib fingered his ratty prison garments and shrugged helplessly, he had been in the prison for quite awhile, they had captured him in the night and apparently saw no reason to conveniently leave his bedclothes with the rest of the prisoners gear.

"What are we going to give him to wear?" asked Trill. 

Morbus drew a slender hand up to stroke his chin in thought and finally nodded before muttering an odd incantation. Fibs prison cloths turned into and off white tunic and brown pants that had a faint chaotic swirl of colors if you looked close enough. "There," he said "that should do until we find him something better. Is everyone ready to depart?" He was answered by a chorus of nods "Good." and he began the short incantation of chaos that'd free them from the city.


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## Look_a_Unicorn (Dec 17, 2003)

*wheedles & pleads*
So with Christmas coming, will Renfield by slipping an update into the stocking?

The spell to conjure Morbus's clothes... Fabrication? I'm just curious where he'll be when the spell expires (assuming duration isn't permanant).
OOOhhhhh or a Dispel Magic gets thrown their way! (I know it doesn't work like that, but c'mon, what's the point of being DM if you can't throw in the odd humourous Act of God?")


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## Renfield (Dec 21, 2003)

heh, one: Luck is the NPC of this game    Two, Morbus is a chaos mage, he no use spells, he uses insanely powerful magic system that I shall henceforth ban from my game after I DESTROY HIM AND HAVE AN ENEMY SLURP HIS INTESTINES UP LIKE SPAGHETTI!!! Just wait Morbus, all it'll take is a beatiful little dead magic zone and a stupid grunt orc or a troll will crit at a very convenient moment MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA..... no bitterness present, none, honest! And the duration is permanent.


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