Gwaihir

*crash* *thump* *bump* *thump* It sounds as if someone is rolling down the stairs. In fact he rolls all down the hall too and right into his own birthday party. As he, Gwaihir, looks up, he sees a bunch of friendly faces. Umm, ouch!, I mean thanks people!

Happy Birthday!

Just to note, all those millions of dreadfully important things that want me will have to wait for a week, becuase I'll be vacationing in Florida .

Home, it had been a long time since she'd been there. Home was where comfortable things were. Home was where Myth was in an enviroment she knew and could manipulate. Home was where she was a story told to frighten young fighters. Home was where Myth knew what was up. But home wasn't a place where life was easy. Home wasn't a place where anyone really cared whether Myth lived or died...No, take that back, home was a place where quite a few people wouldu be mildly pleased if Myth died...but they'd forget their joy soon enough. Home was a place where no one would give Myth anything for nothing. Home was a place where pain was a way of life. It wasn't the way these people lived and she didn't understand these people. These people didn't understand her...didn't like her either probably; the bird certainly didn't and the elf probably didn't either. (OOC: Yes, I know Gyr's a halfelf, but don't expect Myth to make that kind of distinction.) It was odd to think that maybe she liked this uncomfortable messy atmosphere, but in the end Myth had to admit that all of life is uncomfortable. It's just that every part of life is uncomfortable in different ways. The game of life is picking which kind of discomfort to choose and how to cope with it, lessen it. Right now this was a big issue, because Myth got her pay for bringing back some water from that lake with a map and instructions on how to get more..yeah that lake that was full of stone now. Myth wasn't about to get any money for this job she'd done and Myth didn't have any money of her own. Home was a place Myth missed, but it also wasn't a place Myth could go right now. Home wasn't a place she could go when she was down and out...and this was down and out. Myth shook herself. Time to make plan B and C, because A was shot to hell. Time to adapt herself to this situation...and maybe to these people? Would they let her? The elf, wasn't he someone powerful? What if she agreed to play by his rules, what he called honesty, maybe he'd have a use for a person of her talents? It was time to go find out. This felt humbling and humbling felt sucky, but humble was what you were when you couldn't go Home and it wasn't a new feeling to Myth, not half new enough for her taste. By the time Myth had finished her decision some time had passed. When she looked for Gyrfalcon, she found him already stitched up. The halfelf was walking across the deck. He looked thoughtful, but he didn't look so busy that she thought he would object to the interuption She waited until he was out of the others' hearing distance and then she appeared next to him, out from behind some boxes...(mental note: Was he ranger enough to have heard or was she assassin and spy enough to have hid from him? Could she do anything to impress this man, anything he could find useful?) It was somewhat relieving to see Gyrfalcon jerk when Myth addressed him. Good, so he hadn't seen her there. She smiled, "I have a proposal for you, can we stop here where others can't hear and talk?" "Yees" Gyrfalcon wasn't dumb enough to trust Myth and he knew her well enough to wonder what she might want with him, but he was still willing to talk. "I've not got to know you during this journey, but I've been watching you for a while and you interest me. You will have to excuse my ignorance about you, but I've been in the middle of the wilderness and have no access to my spy networks, so I am left with the options of ignorance and simple conversation." Here Myth laughed, because it struck her that these people probably thought that conversation was the normal way to find out about people...like by asking them. Ah, well, no harm if this guy thought she was different, she was. "Well, I know you are a person of some power, though I don't know exactly what. I figured I'd come talk to you, because I'm not just an assassin, I'm also a spy and a teacher of spies. I am the one who sees what is ahead, I am the one who knows what will happen tomorrow and who will happen it. I've come to offer my services, because I respect you and I think we could both gain by it.

accepted and I nominate Zool....and I'm sure I'll nominate others too, because nominating is fun.

Happy Birthday guys

So many things will always come up, but when a friend and a wonderful person comes back, we will always rejoice.

Moved to the Banquet Room Re-Moved to the Assembly Room, since, despite the poem introduction, the body of this is planned to be a story. Jareena, you might want to edit your first post a bit to make it clear that a prose piece will follow the poem. ~Yui

Yuki, you should have poured it on him, after all he didn't say he required it in a cup. Gwai grins and then runs in case Ozy was in hearing range of that.

Happy Birthday Mr. Pixie Stick We celebrate you growing older, because we celebrate having you here and the fact that we knew you last year too ...maybe

Many more six in the morning happy birthdays to you!

For those who are interested in requirements for promotion I recommend the FAQ, because I can't say it better than it was said there. (top of the page.) Val, one can't really hide forums by options that I know of, but yeah there was a lot of discussion on whether they should be flat or not and I think we went for it the way they are now, because there are so many subforums. Discussion on ways to improve the guilds is certainly still open.

And Appy, my goal was to get even nonpages excited, so I figured I'd tell everyone. It's not hard to get promoted to page if one is active and puts in effort, so I like to give incentives. Send me a PM if something's frustrating.

They're open and they're really exciting. If you're a page or above, go check them out

I wish happy birthday to you two!

My first thought was indeed one of those gliding lizzards

Have many of you been wondering if that whole debate about the guilds ever amounted to anything? Well, IT DID! We, who were elected guild leaders, have been working on them ever since! We missed our original release date, BUT we are very very close to opening them to everyone! How exciting! There will be three different guilds. One is centered around poetry, one centered around creative writing and one centered around RP/multi-authored storylines. The purpose of the guilds is to add spice to an already wonderful writers association. The Pen has a great structure of advancement and recognition. It has been said in the past that sometimes it feels like some of that adventure slows down once you reach the respected title of Quill bearer. The purpose of the guilds is to help alleviate that feeling. Now, it is important to keep in mind that the titles here at The Pen are little more than public recognition of writers dedicated to continual growth and effort while helping others to do the same. The Pen is not interested in a system that ranks one person above another. All people here are equal. From non-writers yet avid readers to beginning writers to old hands who’s work you swear should be published! We strive to achieve a mutual level of friendship and respect. The guilds are simply a new way to share in our mutual love of literature! They will be open to be viewed by anyone page or higher, however, to join a guild, one must be a quill bearer. Once you reach quill bearer you may join any or all three of the guilds. However, many of the events put on by the guilds will be open to any member of The Pen. Each guild is structured differently, so be sure to explore them. We are still in the beginning phases and are very open to suggestions. We want these guilds to be YOUR guilds. No one will be denied entrance into a guild. By the time you’ve been given the title of quill bearer you have more than shown your love and dedication to writing as well as The Pen. Each guild has different ways that you join and progress, however they are just for fun. We have worked hard and will continue to work hard and fine tune the guilds so that they are something that brings great joy to The Pen. Once they open, please don’t hesitate to explore them and give us your suggestions. Some things have been left undone or half done specifically so that your input can help fine tune and mold them. As always if you have any questions and/or comments you can post on the ooc boards within the guilds directly or pm any of the guild leaders. ~Salinye

and a crapload of confusing statements about spires and whatnot

Gwaihir could appreciate comfortable taverns as well as the next man, but he rarely heard about them. Also, he had learned the hard way that he didn't tend to do well around any group of people or anything made of glass. So, he didn't even think of coming to the Belchfire. However, he did think of pruning the bushes that grew on the outside of the pen. Many of them had grown on their own and this area of the perimeter of the keep didn't tend to get much attention and they had grown huge. He smiled to himself and knew that he had his work cut out for him. This bush, for instance. It was not going to do well next spring if it was allowed to go on like this. He walked around it, snipping here and there. But oh, that part up there was terrible, much too tall and a waste of energy. It certainly had to go, but it was beyond the reach of even a tall elf. Well, it was only a few inches beyond his reach, but he wanted to be able to examine the area and decide what was indeed the best place to snip. It was time to clamber up. He remembered to tuck his shirt in this time before he started climbing. Last time he hadn't and it had ended up in his getting stuck in a large branch. An awkward leg slid down a branch and he slipped a bit. And caught himself, but an eager young stick protruded a foot or so up his ankle and into his pants. He shook his leg... maybe a bit too vigorously, because the next thing anyone was sure of was a loud crash and tinkle. A large elf came tumbling in the window of the Belchfire. He rolled as he fell in, because somewhere he'd heard that was a good way to fall. He probably knocked himself out for a minute, because when he came to his head was under a table. "It's dark down here" he muttered, but then he saw the tablecloth and poked his head towards it. *shriek!* "Someone just put his head up my dress!" Suddenly the mood was utterly shot and Sorciere's reading was welll and truly disturbed. The flames jumped up and so did a lady in a blue dress with a fringe. She picked up her chair and began to bash the unfortunate elf. "I feel like Wyvern" he muttered.

"I can't refute an incredulous stare." David Lewis

Happy Birthday, sayer of wise things.

This is why controversial topics are dangerous here. No one means any serious harm to America, Savage Dragon. With all respect to everyone I think I'm closing this.

I think that the phrase is only used sarcastically these days...well, some use it seriously, but I don't think that most people do. Thus, t hose who answer will usually give you non-patriotic answers. Anyway, I associate about the same things with it as lump does--suburbia.

There are some very strong lines in this poem. I really enjoyed it and happen to agree that I'd also prefer to be burnt. Forgive my decision Move on, let me go Just burn me, please I think that those lines particularly interest me, because they suggest one reason that people like to make huge fusses and mournings at funerals. And I bet it's true too.

We never really did learn to just chat With each other. But now the silences Don’t hurt. Now we can let them sit empty No more obligations to talk—or care. And we don’t talk as much, but I think we say more. So many things, at last all safe to say. Like now I know it’s safe to joke And tell you why that first kiss scared me so.