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| | | From: Loki (Original Message) | Sent: 3/2/2006 3:07 AM |
Sydney Sincalair. Moving thru the wood the temperature begins to drop drastically an begins to show all of the signs of a winter storm. A rare occurance for the lands of Elmshade. As in "never happens" Sydney holds herself tightly and moves on thru the blowing gale. Her small mouth pouts up as she begins to get worried and all of the animals she speaks to are scarde and confused. Her bare feet quickly grow numb as th first pellets of sleet find thier way thru the thick overhead pine canopy. |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/8/2006 10:16 PM |
Sydney's young mind has trouble comprehending what she's seeing as the dark form rises to face her. She does recognize the dress that her mother had made for herself (and was subsequently buried in) Her fathers vest leaves little doubt as to who the lifeless forms are. The violent shock causes her to falter backwards landing palm first in the freshly driven snow. The site of her maimed and death stained parents wrings a horrid shriek from the tiny child as she practcally rakes her eyes out in terror. She freezes in pure blubbering fear as the ghast stalks nearer. Even in this numbing cold she can smell it's deathly cologne on the blue breeze. Her eyes dart from what used to be her parents back to the unholy form that asks to play it's hideous games w/her. |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/8/2006 10:33 PM |
In the wooded vale adjacent to the old cemetary the stalker lopes along tracking purely by it's bloodhound olfactory senses. It's not ideal but it works well enough. Getting off track a few times the hunter finds bright flashes of scent and plunders ahead accordingly. The little one would not get away. It was not where it was supposed to be but he didn't care. His simple mind burned with it's single track quest Offtrack again an offering flies thru the trees and slams into his side. A withered humon. The fearless hunter picks the corpse off of its spiked armor and tears a mouthful out of its neck. The sinew is like leather and the blood is congealed. The muscle there has the taste of wood. Too old. Too dry. Not wet enough. Swallowing the bitter pill he turns to that direction. A small humans sceam is music to his scarred ears. He tosses the humon jerky to the ground and grinds it in half as he steps in th middle of it. The sharks grin splits his face like a spiked chasm. The black oily drool that runs between the crooked yellow teeth stenches of the rotten flesh still caught between his angular teeth. Jogging bent over towards the direction of the scream he readies himself. His master Ravensclaw would be pleased when he returned with the girl...unspoiled and intact..as instructed. |
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| | From:  Hiel- | Sent: 3/9/2006 3:49 PM |
Location: Cemetary, Elmshade;
Time: Unknown;
C = Celebril, D = Darien, M = Melanie
 - - - Ah, yes, the fragrant stench of cologne de Ghast with all its eye-burning, bile burning, gut churning intensity comes wafting about the youngster as the Walking Death looms over her drooling at the tasty fresh morsel of human girl flesh. That is until his attention is diverted by the thing tracking her emerging from the forest boundary. The Undead former Knight growls at the thing, and then hisses "She's mine!! I saw her first!" The Ghast reaches down to Sydney with a black clawed hand, and tells the little girl "Don't go away. Uncle Cel will be right back as soon as I deal with this. Then we can play." bizarrely licking his blood-blackened lips with his elongated tongue. Dropping the dead corpse of Sydney's mother at her feet, the Carrion-Eater bolts away from the little girl, bounding toward the intruder on all fours like some over-sized baboon, and savagely leaps at the creature, snarling, spitting, lashing with its black claws, and biting with its crooked fangs at the thing. - - -
CELEBRIL
[claw, claw, bite -- rolls coming via irony. AC-1, HP 27/27] | |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/9/2006 10:34 PM |
Sydney's crystal blue eyes go the size of plates at the shriveled and defiled form of her mother when it bounces to the white ground in front of her. The once loving warm person she shared her life with is now a purple raisen in the snow staring at her thru twin maggot woven cataracts. The air is caught in her chest and the screams come out in small choked gasps. The power inside her begins to swell but her mind can't take the reality and she falls over passed out like a rag doll. The ghast arcs thru the air and connects solidly w/the girls pursuer. Latching his rooked nails into the skin he draws the creatures limb closer to his slobbering mouth and tears a chunk of meat out exposing the kneecap. Skeetch looks down in surprised wonder over the top of his new longsword. Yous crazy mon! Skeetch no crunchy-munchy! Wherez pretty smellings girlie-girl? You eat her stink mon? Skeetch hated undead. Ok we all know he hates most everything but undead have no purpose for him at all. They stink, they taste bad, and they were no fun to torture. His new master ravensclaw had found him gnawing on defeated gnolls and had turned the whole dead troop into these useless things. Skeetch considered that a waste of perfectly good snackies. But ravensclaw had made promises to Skeetch so he did what they asked. Mostly anyway. Ka-Thrall had sent Skeetch out with a warrior but Skeetch killed and ate that guy on the third day out. Skeetch was lost but he had found the girl. Snatching the undead thing up in a blur the 10' troll (trelf whatever) drags the powerful ghast by the neck back to the clearing to the slumbering girl. The one once known as celebril notices that there is a collar around the trolls neck. From that a thick chain dangles. And attached to that is the arm and chest/shoulder of some days old person. (talked/1attk/partial move) |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/9/2006 10:35 PM |
(no dmg btw. Simply overbears) |
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| | | From: Hiel- | Sent: 3/10/2006 6:22 PM |
((Going under the assumption from knowledge of Skeetch, who values brute force and has no concept of finesse, that the Trelf has one hand about Cel's throat, and is dragging him backward.) Location: Cemetary, Elmshade;
Time: Unknown;
C = Celebril, D = Darien, M = Melanie
- - - It was seriously doubtful that the Trelf could smell anything other than the malodorous stench coming from the Ghast he held. Who at the moment like a rabid spider monkey, chokingly shrieks over and over "She's mine!! She's mine!! She's mine!!" the one bright shiny thought that registers on its putrefying gray matter, and like a shark of the sea, repeatedly chomps and gnashes with its teeth, trying to get at the arm holding him. The Undead former Knight tries clawing at the hand holding his throat, and kicking at the shins of the brute in an attempt to get free. - - - | | CELEBRIL
[claw, claw, bite -- rolls coming via irony. AC-1, HP 27/27] | |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/11/2006 4:16 AM |
| Kicking the 1500lb troll is like kicking petrified tree. Except the tree possibly has a higher IQ. Skeetch doesn't think the shrieking thing tearing chunks out of him was going to quit wanting to eat the little humon, which he vaugley remembered as being a bad thing. (regenerate starts) The troll could live knee deep in its own feces but this thing stunk like a bloated horse. He would have to kill it to shut it up. or...he could do what had happened to him..twice. Taking a few minutes Skeetch stuffed the remains of his handler in the gray things maw and wrapped it from neck to ankle in the dangling heavy chain. And threw it all in the nearby pond. A small shallow thing that couldn't have been more than 10' deep or 30' across. The small bodies of water were common and dotted the forest. Waving w/a limp wristed goodbye he laughed at the thought of the strggling body. He wasn't sure if it wored like that with the deadlings but the thought made him smile. Which looked like a crocodile on crack. He turned his attention to the limp girlie in the cold stuff. ( I made a couple more saves. Two BBLG checks to overpower. Roll to hits if you want and Dmg) |
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| | | From: Hiel- | Sent: 3/14/2006 8:47 AM |
Location: Cemetary, Elmshade;
Time: Unknown;
C = Celebril, D = Darien, M = Melanie
 - - - Not long ago, a freshly arisen Ghast, by the name of Cel, went on a little mission for a Vampire to get a warm blooded body for some dire purpose. Well, he found that body, a poor soul, a Beast Man, a Jackal Man, but in doing so killed a few of his brethren, four to be exact. And as happens with critters killed by Ghasts and other types of Undead, well, they don't die all the way. Ya see, sometime the dead come back, and not as they use to be either. The four retched souls killed by Cel arose from their burial grounds, and on the way to find the one who made them as they are, satisfied a little of the gnawing hunger for flesh. The tribe of Beast Men awoke to screams in the night as the fledgling Ghasts slew and devoured members of their former family. The primative Beast Men fled in terror into the night with the horrific scene of bloody carnage burned forever into their minds, abandoning their homes. Once finished with their 'ghastly' feast, the foursome followed unconscious pull to the south where the Master awaited them, and travelled long into the night, finding he who made them in the cemetary of Elmshade, their NEW home. ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ Rabid though the Ghast Knight may have been, he still possessed a twisted intellect far above what passed for average even among humans and other races. Cel, divining what the monster intended with the corpse and chain, decides to help, and critiques Skeetch's efforts at tying him up ONE handed, gruffly screeching "No! NO! Yer doing it all wrong!!!" Using his TWO free hands, the Ghast takes the free end of the chain, and throws a loop around the corpse's neck, explaining "One loop around him. Like this." And to royally confuse and distract the Brute, the Undead tells him "And another loop around like this! And then like this. And put your thumb there. Hold it. Now pull tight here!! There all tied up!" and squiggles back and forth to make it look like Skeetch really has him tightly bound. When the Trelf launches the bound Ghast and corpse, the Undead Knight flies true, doing a superman impression, and skims across the small pond to the other side like a belly surfing, skipping stone. The corpse, however, snaps taut on the chain tied about Skeetch's wrist, and rebounds toward him like a ball on a string. Clambering to his feet, the stinky Knight bounds away over to the scrumptious little, and snarling at the new recruits, who'd been eyeing her, commands of them "She's MINE!! He's yours!! Kill him!!!" ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Looking where the Ghasts, the fledglings eyes light up as their blood thristy little brains see a whole, heaping mountain of Trelf food, and surge toward Skeetch with savage abandon. Like flies on glue paper, the four minor Ghasts suddenly stick themselves to Skeetch, but not very well, they are after all just a day old. - - - | | CELEBRIL
[claw, claw, bite -- rolls coming via irony. AC-1, HP 27/27]
Fledgling Ghasts 2+2 HD
G1 = 10, 20, 19 [if hit, dmg 4 & 3]; G2 = 6, 11, 19 [if hit, dmg 4]; G3 = 10, 18, 10 [if hit, dmg 1]; G4 = 3, 7, 3 [miss]; | |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/15/2006 12:13 AM |
| Skeetch doesn't really comprehend he's been duped. His lowbrow twists into a quisitive expression that raises one greasy eyebrow higher than the first. As he ponders the vast equation of knots and flying dead things he notices the group of shuffling rot-gut that surronds him and loses track og his limited thought process. BUT...Violence the troll-elf managerie understands. He instantly assumes that all in his vision are after his quarry but as the red filter draws the shutters of hate and jealousy across his mind, causing his hateful insane tendencies take over. Without understanding the inner workings of it the trelf digs into his inner strength and diverts his massive adrenilin glands secretions into his stringy muscles (activate psi power) His cable shaped muscles grow and pop into a huge network of hardened rope that looks like the root of an ancient tree under his rubber skin. His exterior shape bulks up to several inches in circumfrence due to the power gained. (+4Str) He raises the crackling blade and the dark aura that surrounds it makes a dull thrumming hum that can cleave just about anything. *(maintain psi power D-blade) Stone, steel, and the dead flesh of the unliving cannot ever hope to stop it's cleaving properties. As Skeetch growls his frame into a hulking 10' giant the ghasts dead-born offspring tear into his thick green flesh pulling the skin away in long jagged tears, but the trelfs accelerated regeneration starts to mend the flesh almost as fast as it is damaged. With no real cares or notice Skeetch announces, KILL, MAIM, REND, DESTROY! SKEETCH SPLIT ALL OF YOU! GIRL MINE TO BE CAUGHT! YOU TO DIE SOON STINK-MON! But first he hisses gray ones feel Skeetche's hurt blade... |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/15/2006 10:42 PM |
(nice grammer loki. Good lord how did I ever pass 7th grade writing like that? A thousand apologies for those reading that trash. Anyway skeetch has gone. Your turn dudeman) |
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| | | From: Hiel- | Sent: 3/16/2006 8:10 AM |
Location: Cemetary, Elmshade;
Time: Unknown;
- - - Abandoning his fledgling Ghasts to their demise with the brutish Trelf, the Carrion Eater checks to see if Sydney is still in sleepy land, and even if she isn't, no matter. He hoists her over his armor plated shoulder, and taking her for a jog [30 mv], leaves the cemetery behind to find someplace to play with his food. Yes, play with his food, as in terrorize the little girl with a little hide and go seek to get her blood properly marinated with adrenalin for that special tang of fear. But first, Cel had to lose the unwelcome party crasher who no doubt even now is partying hardy on his lesser brethren, and in his gravelly growling voice, ponders his situation aloud "Where to go. Where to go. Where to go where it can't follow or find where I go. The river. YES!! The river! Oh joyous day to go for a swim!" The Undead runs through the forest carrying his 'pet mouse' toward the river, and exits the woods on the verges of the wide meadow, containing the Trinity Towers. - - - - - - With the river ahead of him 100 paces, the Ghast slows to a stop as it realizes something is amiss in the vale of the towers, and does a little rubber-necking and sight-seeing "Ouuu, ahhhh." Where three once stood, now only two remained, with the third lying on its side and cracked open like egg shell. There seemed to be another party going on with an immense Red as the main attraction with a bunch of little party favorites flying around him. The Corpse Eater shrugs, and remarks "Hope the Dragon leaves left overs." There was way too much fun going on at the towers. Besides, he had his own party to give, and continues on his way to the river. - - - - - - Meanwhile back at the cemetery, the little ones continue to entertain Skeetch. Very little finesse goes into the Ghastlings attacks. One tries hard to climb up the Trelf, clawing his left leg and his abdomen before trying to bite his left arm like a savage little rat [15, 14, 3]. The second leaps upon the brute from behind, raking a claw against his neck and left arm, before falling to the ground to bite his left leg [17, 17, 17]. The third claws at first Skeetch's left leg and then his right before leaping up to bite at his left arm [19, 15, 7]. The last one makes pathetic attacks clawing the green hulk in the groin and abdomen before trying to take hunk out of his right arm [14, 2, 12]. - - - | | CELEBRIL
[AC-1, HP 27/27] | |
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| | | From: Hiel- | Sent: 3/16/2006 8:13 AM |
| (Is this where we merge threads?) |
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| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/17/2006 3:34 AM |
| As we know Skeetch has a brain the size of a peanut and the attention span of circus monkey makng every day a trip to the carnival sideshow. He instantly forgets the small girl he was chasing as soon as the stenching marauders begin to tear the pocked skin from his curved bones. Each fledgling ripps sizable pieces of his body from his frame. this of course drives him into an instant and unstoppable killing mode His warcry drives the few remaining ravens from the nearby oak tree as he levels his newly stolen blade. With power moves taught to the Draco-slayers of the Amun-Thyr the trained trelf tears into the beastmen with a pure savagry associated with the norse clans. The blade of the weighted cleaver he carries is shrouded in black crackling energy. Those that have traveled with him know Skeetch can endow his weapons to slice thru deadwood, stone, marble and steel as if it didn't exist. As long as the blade is wider than the target havoc ensues. Apparently this rule applies to the flesh and bone of the dead. Skeetch power arcs the longsword over his head and splits the monstrosity at his groin neatly in two gurgling halves. Each half of its skull holds twin facial features as it slops to the ground in sputtering heaps. The second undead fairs no better when the green 10' adrenalin junkie heaves the crackling blade in a horizontal plane splitting that ghoul at the waist (44dmg) leaving its legs to wander of unaided by anything above its waist Howling threats and promises of pain skeetch's pepper the cemetary air. his hands are full but his foul mouth isn't. Leaning over he clamps down on the head of a third attacker and feels his jagged round teeth sink past the skull and into the cool insides. Bearing down with the spring loaded jaws of steel he crushes the cranium like a quail egg and feels the chunky soup of fluid flow from betwen his black gums. Rising like a great landshark he flips the prey from side to side (20dmg, hits as if +2 weap) (merge threads if ready. plz link as appropriate) |
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| This message has been deleted by the manager or assistant manager. |
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| | | From: Hiel- | Sent: 3/19/2006 4:10 PM |
Location: Verges of the Trinity Tower meadow;
Time: Early Morning (D+3 after Temple Destruction;
- - - Meanwhile back at the cemetery, the last little Ghastling standing, not deterred in the slightest by its three slain brethren, does a little bushwhacking, and leaps upon the Trelf's back while he's busy shaking other dead ghastling in his mouth like a dog's toy. The Corpse Eater climbs his way up to the brute's neck, and digs his claws into Skeetch's throat while attempting to give him a super hickey [mod 20, mod 21, mod 17]! - - - | | CELEBRIL
[AC-1, HP 27/27] | Reply
| | | From: Loki | Sent: 3/19/2006 8:37 AM | | Skeetch wags his head back and forth with enough ferocity to rip thru the things neck leaving him with a hairy gumball in his cavernous maw. A fourth critter scaled his 10' frame and started to expose the networks of black viens and yellow ligaments under the mottled skin of his neck. He hadn't even fully regenerated the first wounds he had suffered so this one was getting on his nerves. Literally. Exposed nerve endings in his neck thumped and pulsed with dull pain caused by the tenacious beastman ghoulie. Roaring with hate Skeetch reaches around and snatches the stinking undead backpack trying to eat at his neck. With a giants strength Skeetch slams the writhing body into the ground like a mallet wielding madman chasing pop-up gophers. The trelf slams the things head into the frozen-hard turf a number of times. (18dmg 19dmg)
(2nd rd) Skeetch takes that body and ties its feet to another crushed manthings ankles with a piece of broken chain and makes GHOUL-CHUCKS!!
He promised himself he would beat the girl-thief with one of it's own stinking family members, or whatever these things where. They all smelled the same to him. Dangling the corpse nun-chuks to his side Skeetch filled his nose with scented air. Oh yeah. The Girl! Following the smells of rotton flesh and flowering daisies the troll fighter makes his way winding in the general direction of his prey. (plz link from here to tower when ready) | | |
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