The autumn leaves crunched under the weight of a paw as the wolf streaked through the frosty landscape. The path narrowed, but this made no difference to the beast, galloping, bounding through the forlorn trees of the wintry forest. The scent was strong in his nose, and rage burned through his veins like liquid fire. The footprints were fresh. The odour was pungent. The hunt was nearing its end.

Conscious was the wolf of its lupine form. The power in its muscles, the sharpness of its claws, its acute senses homing in on the prey. The adrenaline was pumping. it lived for this; the thrill of the hunt, the moment of the kill. While the beast did not cherish death, nor did it avoid it; this is what makes the wolf the wolf, savagery and elegance combined in one lethal package. Master of the hunt, ruler of the forest, protector of the pack.

Its muscles tightened as it neared the clearing, the target in sight. Time slowed as it launched off its hind legs, lunging in for the kill; claws extended, jaw loosened, ready to go for the jugular. Through its focused vision it could see him, the shaman in his brown robes staring back at him with glowing eyes. With a raised hand he spoke a few words, and the wolf folded, mid-flight, with all the strength and all the rage leaving his body at once. Collapsed it lay, cutting a pitiful figure in the middle of the clearing, a slobbering snout lying just shy of the shaman's feet.

This was it. It was over.

Sapwood awoke with a gasp, his eyes adjusting to the familiar bars of his cell. He looked down at his fingers, once again realising the shape of his human form. His heart sank, and he adjusted himself on the mattress, to try in vain to get back to sleep.

...now has his own icon.

Short fanfic to come when I'm not too knackered to string a sentence together.

The pyromancer sprinted across the smoky landscape, trees becoming blurs as he ran.  He lived for fire.  The smell of smoke, the flickering of the flames, the burnt ash underfoot in the aftermath.  Unfortunately for him, this might have been a spark too far.  His efforts had attracted the attention of the Wolf Druids who were now endeavouring to chase him from their forest, or tear him apart in the process.  The pack was now on his heels, and with their sharp claws and bad tempers he didn't particularly want them catching him up.  Constant glances over his shoulder indicated they weren't immediately behind him; although he knew they couldn't be far.

Looking forward again, he caught sight of a figure in the mist, silouhetted against the smog.  It wasn't lupine, he could see that much.  As he got closer the image sharpened, taking the form of a man with ragged hair partly covered by a verdant bandana, clothed entirely in shades of green.  Covering much of his body however was a suit of armour, constructed almost entirely of wood, vines holding together the panels deceptively securely.  Casually held in his right hand was a plain staff, made of a wood very similar to the trees around him.  The pyromancer stopped.

"Nature will not permit this destruction" spoke the figure.  He may have been imagining things, but with these words the Druid seemed to look different somehow, his skin seeming to have taken on a wooden texture of its own.  Fumbling his words, he did what came naturally to him, calling forth a ball of elemental fire and hurling it at the figure in front of him.  The flame washed over the Druid, who briefly recoiled in pain but then stood upright again.  For a moment he was composed, seeming almost unharmed by the usually destructive fireball.  Then he struck.

The first blow stung, taking out the mage's leg from underneath him.  Falling to the ground, but thinking quickly, he again cast a spell, and as the Druid swung again a dart of his hand incinerated the staff in mid-air.  The druid stood over the hunched pyromancer, the resolve in his eyes turning to pure rage.  "This ends HERE!" yelled the figure, lupine claws shooting from his fingers tips with an ominous gleam.  The pyromancer, looking up, opened his mouth for yet another spell, but with the scent of blood his world turned dark.

"Your bones will nourish this forest's regrowth!"  And with that snarl, Sapwood walked off.

I have tried - and failed - several times to get communication through my parent's frail computer network, both by LJ and internet.  However, back in the comfort of Bath, i now can say what I wanted to, but kinda lost patience.  So, the abridged version.

School friends marrying.  Scary.

Parents away for Christmas.  Lonely.

Wood armour taking shape.  Win!

Druid ==> Rocking.

Waking up at 4:50 in the morning because a Romulan battlecruiser has just photon torpedoed your family home is not what I call a good start to the day.  Fortunately, my dreams have a tendency not to mean anything... except the one about lasagne.

... I just have to get off my chest how I feel about the game just gone.

It turned out awesome.

My thanks to cheekychipmunk and xanthipe for their wonderfully creative GMing, which despite being partly lost on Salogel (if not Loz - he is a retard after all), allowed for facets of his character to come out in ways never seen before.  I have no idea how my performance looked from the outside, but this FELT like the best game I've had with the character... ever.

( Read more... )

Hmmm, until next time...

Salogel out.

...is still an imbecile.

Oh well, 'twas nice to be back in the front line again.

Rules: Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. You can't use the band I used. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)".

Pick your Artist: Turisas

Are you a male or female:
Rex Regi Rebellis

Describe yourself:
The Heart of Turisas

How do you feel:
Among Ancestors

Describe where you currently live:
The Land of Hope and Glory

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
To Holmgard And Beyond

Your favorite form of transportation:
The Dnieper Rapids

Your best friend?
Rasputin

You and your best friends are:
Five Hundred And One

What's the weather like:
Fields of Gold

Favorite time of day:
Midnight Sunrise

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
The Miklagarde Overture

What is life to you:
Battle Metal

Your relationship:
A Portage To The Unknown

Your fear:
The Messenger

What is the best advice you have to give:
Cursed be Iron

Thought for the Day:
One More

How I would like to die:
In The Court of Jarislef

My soul's present condition:
Among Ancestors

My motto:
Victoriae Triumpae Dominus

Edit:  No, I haven't.

Right.  I have decided.

Lay-druid warrior, changing classes to full Druid round about the rank 20 mark (somewhere buried in 36 hour points).  The wooden plate armour stays.

Why the decision?  Largely something drabbit said to me on Sunday, although he doesn't know it - and that's him making me realise just how important it is I carry a shield, as well as trying to learn staff use.  I guess I'll just have to learn to love the double-cost standing.  My only hope is that 20 ranks of lay-druid acolyte will be enough to pick up the tree druid bonuses immediately upon switching.

Now just two things remain.  One is a name: Copsewalker? Foreststrider? Taproot?

The other is the armour itself - I'm hoping for a full (chest, arms, and legs) suit of probably 5/8" thick hardwood armour, bent into the right shape by steaming, and attached with leather thonging.  hollydominique  has (very kindly) offered help with the decoration, but I still need to make the thing; so anyone with any idea where I could find materials, equipment, or expertise without paying over the odds would be very grateful.

Consider this an ongoing project, but it will be cool when it's done.

Well, I have a concept for next year's TL character.  It's quite cool.  There are a few li'l problems though -

• It's not a class that quite currently exists in the system (multiclass Druid/Warrior), so I need permission from character refs to do it...
• Even so, the stats aren't that good...
• And finally, to do this would require me to somehow build an utterly awesome suit of wooden armour to wear.

The problem is, I know how I want to do this.  I know how I intend to go about building the armour, if I can get the equipment.  I reckon half an inch of hardwood would probably count as fairly sturdy (I'd be practically wearing a shield on my chest!).

But the real problem is this: Despite all the issues with this character, I find myself really wanting to play him.  I have his personality sorted.  I know how he would react.  I reckon he could become a force, all in all.

So if anyone knows the first thing about woodworking, can they get in touch please? :-)

Note: The below is written in the full knowledge that drabbit will almost certainly read it, and hopefully be amused, (possibly even flattered).  It is certainly not an attack - more a summary of events that have sonsumed so much of my thought-time lately, they deserve a post of their own.( OOC musings )

( What happened )
( Idle thoughts )

So... the (near-) perfection that was almost a month ago has passed.  Life is no longer good to the point of being unreal, and I am no longer almost jumping with joy with every step; but I am nevertheless content.

I think.

Eleven thirty in the evening (getting up for work at Six) isn't a good time to have your mother ring to inform you that a) she has found a year-old bread roll in your bedroom, and b) that it looks like she and my father are getting a divorce.  I can't honestly say I'm surprised, and it may be a good thing in the end; but it is still uncertainty, and thus I am apprehensive.  It is kinda a relief that I wasn't around to watch it unfold, but at the same time I now don't know where my place in the future is.

Thank god my job is permanent; however, it's kinda scary to think I may not have a home to go back to.  Having spent the last five years yoyo-ing between home and away, it's sobering to think that I am now entrenched somewhere; or at least should be.

I need a drink.

On another note, work is going well.  I sometimes fear I'm making myself unpopular (largely by being good at my job), but I'm still enjoying it, and the training is so much better than some places I've worked.  My manager loves me, my supervisor doesn't ("wouldn't it be better done like this?"), and the rest of the lab I get on with pretty well.

Now that just leaves me to sort out the ol' love life... (Applications on a postcard to....)

"How do you feel about being friends?"

Fuck.

July the 11th is my Birthday, and so the Saturday before is my party (I'm told there is an LT event on the 11th).

The plan is to go to the boating centre, and hire a load of rowing boats to take up to Bathampton.  In fancy dress.  And yell at tourists on boats (they love it.)  Theme is vikings.

So, if you have ever fancied pillaging/looting/marauding, all invited!

I really shouldn't be feeling like this.

( Read more... )

...and anyone who dares challenge me.

So, the 24 hour is over.  ( My sincerest congratulations to the GMs, monster crew, and players for an event I can only describe as fantastic.  )

The last two years running, I've set up my tent, gone to sleep in the freezing cold, decided enough is enough, and disappeared inside the hut to sleep in the warmth sometime in the early hours.

This year, I'll just cut to the chase, and not bring a tent...

I feel it is a little unimaginative.  Any suggestions for a new one?

It's a sad day when you play so infrequently that a five-hour TL game gets the same sort of attention as the weekender-games.  Oh well.

My legs ache.  This means I must have been doing something right.

Well, start with the good stuff, I'm still useful.  There's something quite satisfying about completely removing enemies from combat, although it would possibly be marginally more useful if it worked on real-life cows too (sorry Pete for almost getting you trampled by a herd of horny herbivores).  Three-word grips are VERY useful, and I finally gave the call I've been looking forward to for all these months:  "Quad Grip."  On a more IC-note; Onyx has met several gods now, and yet still doesn't know who his own deity is.  An Earth-Elemental Lord certainly comes close, although he didn't seem particularly interested in being worshipped, meaning the RP aspect of this is still lost to me.  I wish I'd have been able to develop this further... however the opportunity never arose.

On the flip side, all the thought I have put into the epic grips that I'm learning to cast backfired hideously.  The high-level end of the chain, as it was written on the only copy of the rules I have, state that each subsequent level pushes the target further into the ground; the natural conclusion of which is that anything above hex-grip is pretty much an enforced Earth Merge.  Typically, no-one pointed out that this rule had CHANGED until the moment I actually CAST it, expecting to be able to take enemies out of combat completely.  I knew that sooner or later I'd have to approach this issue; I just expected to be asking the question 30 ranks later.

This isn't my fault; no-one has supplied me with an up-to-date version of the Higher Earth List; nor is it my fault that a complex character walked into a complex wibble.  However, at the end of it all, I am in one final dilemma... Mass Grip or Magic Sight?  Decisions decisions...

Edit: Oh, and four bits of kit fell apart.  Fail.