Gyrfalcon

give someone a shiny, they're happy for minutes....teach someone how to BE a shiny and they're happy for a lifetime or at least until they tarnish "Everyone dies - not everyone lives" "As long as you're alive - there's hope" "Don't swear your soul to any man or god, unless your soul, heart, and mind do it first" -Provided by Raimour. Pet purple fuzzy things: good idea or a disaster waiting to happen? The great shiney shortage of 86. Do were-horses make good steeds? What to do about the endangered Ghinas Indian Rubber Chickens of the east coast. Canid's AoA Tonight topics Two roads diverged in a wood and I I took the road less traveled by And that has made all the difference - Robert Frost "Hey, if you want to make an omlette, you gotta...destroy a few forests, or something." -Black Mage, 8-bit Theatre During a pillow fight: Salinye: "You're supposed to be on MY side!" Daryl: "Whatever gave you that thought? I'm a random agent of chaos!"

Good idea, Peredhil, but while looking at the Walls, I decided I wanted to spend some time and see if it can't be organized a bit more efficiently, so adding this post will probably take place on Friday.

Yay, then I'm right on time! Happy Birthday, Peredhil. You're one of the most awesome people I've had the pleasure of knowing (even through a virtual medium), and you're one of the reasons I wandered over to the Pen back when the AMBBs started having problems. *For once, the hugs come from the OTHER half-elf!*

Gyrfalcon stepped into the middle of the Cabaret Room and looked around. As always, it was busy with both members of the Pen and those newly come to seek admittance, honored guests sat at tables with Pages and Quill-bearers. Gyrfalcon smiled slightly as he saw Nyyark in the corner, his crow perched on his shoulder. Behind him, Daryl coughed slightly. "Yes Daryl, I know. I was just assessing the mood of the room." the currently human werefox smiled "Don't take too long, pointy-ears, let's get on with it so the party can start!" Gyrfalcon made a face over his shoulder at his werefox companion, then slid his sheathed katana over his shoulder and hammered the metal cap at the end of the sheath against the floor three times. The slow, measured cracks of metal against stone stilling the conversation throughout the Cabaret Room. Gyrfalcon slung his sheathed katana over his shoulder again and looked around, clearing his throat before speaking into the silence. "My apologies for the somewhat abnormal means of gaining attention, but I wished to gain everyone's attention for a short while. There are two matters to be discussed. First, there will be a party in the main courtyard starting ten minutes from now and going until the booze runs out or the last guest staggers off. And since Wyvern is helpfully providing the Endless Decanter of Booze, running out of booze is not an option." The half-elf smiled at the few brief chuckles before continuing. "Now, as to the reason for the party. Several months ago, a group of Quill-bearers was assigned their Quill Quest. They were given the option to choose among three different quests. One of these quests was to provide truly constructive and useful criticism for a piece that he or she liked. Almost two weeks ago, one of those Quill-bearers completed this quill quest and reported the results to me. After due deliberation with the other Elders, it has been decided that this member is worthy of promotion." "The piece that was analyzed was reverie's 'Sand' in the Writer's Workshop. The Quill-bearer was Nyyark." "Nyyark, congratulations, you have completed your Quill Quest and you may now claim a rank about Quill Bearer as your reward! In addition, you are the guest of honor at the party about to start in five minutes. We'll see you out there- or else Daryl will come and drag you before an adoring crowd!" Gyrfalcon grins and winks at Nyyark before looking around. "Please, extend your congratulations to Nyyark for his hard work and effort in completing his Quill Quest!" Gyrfalcon begins to applaud, Daryl meanwhile clapping a party hat on the half-elf's head before shouting "PARRRRRRTY!"

Heh, happy birthday to your daughter, Ken. May she have a happy life.

Happy Birthday, Judicator.

Happy Birthday, Racouol!

*applauds loudly* Very nice, Thinas! You keet the story on topic and did not digress into the specific incident that led to his becoming a vampire. This kept the focus on what you planned to do rather then 'Here's how I became a blood-sucking terror of the night, by the way, look at me doing something eeeevil.' story. Excellent work, as always. More, more!

Gyrfalcon stepped out of the shadows on the other side of the Shadow Paths and nodded to Aegon. "Good seeing you again, my friend." The half-elf said, smoothly side-stepping out of the way of the crowd of well-wishers surging through the portal. Gyrfalcon talked quietly with Aegon for a moment, then gently placed his carefully wrapped gift among the others being piled up for Brute to open when he finally manages to stumble out of bed to greet his unexpected guests- a bottle of 'Ole Pecuiliar, probably capable of dissolving a dragon by this stage in its aging, nearly a hundred years now. Gyrfalcon knew Brute would enjoy it, once he got through the screaming, writhing stage. "Happy Birthday, my friend." The half-elf whispered, before going to mingle with the other guests as they waited for Brute to appear.

Behind the kender, two lines of penguins march in perfect military march, each foot falling at the same time, each wing swinging with the same motion as they waddle with military bearing after their kender leader. We'll see you around, Tasslehoff, and as others have said, don't go getting hurt now, or we'll have to hurt you. *chuckles*

Writer's Block is an eternal pain to the art that is our life's work We all have days like this... I'm annoyed by them, personally. *chuckles*

Gyrfalcon half-turned in the doorway and made sure that the horses weren't going anywhere for a little while before following Ozymandias and Daryl into the room. The trio came to a halt as they stared at the room, healers clustered around a young man who was groaning quietly. Near the broken window, a shadowy figure stood, his eyes focused on the trio and their unconscious burden for a moment before looking outside again. Daryl shook his head, for the man stood on the edge of the sunlight, yet the shadow the man stood in was as dark as night. "Stop staring at Tamaranis and help me get this guy put down on a table." Ozymandias said to Daryl. "I thought you two have met." Daryl helped Ozymandias set their burden down as gently as possible on a table, realization dawning as to why the figure was cloaked in shadows. "We have, but only at night." "Ah, that would explain it. Those shadows are a little unnerving the first time you see them, aren't they?" Ozymandias said, looking around for the proprietor of the hostel as Gyrfalcon moved to tend to the unknown mage's wounds to the best of his abilities, seeking to keep the man alive until one of more gifted healers could come over and help the mage. As he called on what limited healing spells he had, the half-elf noticed a strange magical aura around the man, dark in nature, yet seeming to help keep him on the brink of death rather then allowing the mage to plunge into death's domain. Ozymandias could not find anyone who looked like they had the authority and bearing of an owner among the crowd, and was going to talk with Tamaranis when there was a flash of light, and an elven woman appeared. She looked around in shock, and a hand rose to her throat as she perceived the shattered window, the charred wall, and the man still on the floor being tended. Before Ozymandias reached Tamaranis, the elven woman confronted the vampire. "Explain yourself and this mess immediately." She said to him in a low cold and accusing voice. Meanwhile, Gyrfalcon cast the last minor spell of healing he had memorized this day, and he looked up at Daryl, slightly weary. "Will you go ask one of the healers to come attend this man?" the half-elf asked, and Daryl nodded before threading his way through the crowd. As it was, the first person he met was the irascible old druid, who was muttering about people too stupid to get out of the way of flying glass as he finished with a last healing spell, leaving the man whole but unconscious. "Excuse me." Daryl said politely, but the druid ignored him, standing up and stretching his back slowly. Daryl tapped the man's shoulder, and the druid turned around. "Eh? What do you want?" the old man demanded. The werefox in human form sighed. "There's another patient that needs your healing touch, he's-" The druid's hand shot out, gripping Daryl's chin and garbling his words as the druid peered intently as Daryl's eyes. "Hm... not yellow-eye fever, but your eyes aren't a normal color... hm... I've heard of a disease or two that could do this..." Daryl gripped the man's wrist and slowly pulled his hand away. "This isn't about me, thank you. I'm just fine. The mage on the table over there, however, isn't fine. Would you mind helping him?" Without waiting for a response, Daryl hustled the druid along, ignoring the man's protests and attempts to hit him with his staff, which was hard to do at such close quarters. Depositing the druid in front of the unconscious mage, Daryl faded into the crowd before the druid could turn around and really belt him with the staff. The druid grumbled and looked at Gyrfalcon. "A ranger, eh? Well, at least it means you know what you're doing, not like some of the idiot warriors I've seen in my day..." looking down at the mage, the old druid gently inspected his wounds. "Hmm.... frostbite, and large puncture wounds... pah, the idiot must have gotten into a spell duel with another mage.... idiots, all of them..." Gyrfalcon smiled gently but refrained from interrupting, for even as he muttered to the mage about the intelligence of his fighting, he called upon his remaining healing powers to help the man.

Hm... this is a good question. Basically, my supernatural ability of choice would be to transform into a kitsune (Japanese fox spirits). Kitsune are shapeshifters and magic users, and that would give me all the rest of the abilities I might like- teleportation, invisibility, the ability to drop fireballs on people who have aggravated me beyond control.... *grins evily* Well, maybe not a real fireball, but a convincing illusion might scare them sufficiently.

Gyrfalcon raised an eyebrow in the general direction of Salinye's voice, but she didn't respond to his unasked question. Wondering what could be so important that she needed to hide her presence, Gyrfalcon absently slung his katana over his shoulder and put on his cloak, drawing up his hood. "Daryl, why don't you come with us?" Gyrfalcon said quietly, and Daryl nodded, his tail somberly not moving, for he had caught the urgency in Salinye's voice that said that this was no game or prank. The two visible companions and their invisible friend left the room and ghosted down the silent hallways. This late at night, few of the Pen's members were out and about, preferring instead to sleep, or read or work in their quarters. Of course, a few of the residents would still be about, but not many. Passing Wyvern's door, Daryl paused as he heard a sibilant voice muttering. Gyrfalcon looked back and motioned impatiently to Daryl, and the werefox trotted a little faster to catch up with Gyrfalcon. Quietly, Daryl asked who Wyvern could be talking to at this time of night. Gyrfalcon grinned briefly. "You know how some people sleep-walk? He's sleep-scheming." The half-elf said with a soft chuckle, and Daryl grinned. If Salinye was amused, there was no sound to indicate it. Salinye grew curious as they descended many flights of steps, moving steadily from the heights of Gyrfalcon's tower down past the ground floor, entering the chambers located beneath the ground floor, then even beneath the foundations of the Pen's thick walls. The floor grew thick with dust, apparently undisturbed for many, many years. Salinye followed Gyrfalcon's tracks carefully, not wanting to reveal a third presence, but when she looked back, she saw that the dust continued to look smooth and undisturbed. Salinye shrugged, but she didn't want to fall behind, and thus could not investigate whatever enchantment that was causing this effect... at least, right now. Finally, they stood in a wide corridor, deep under the Pen. In the corners, torches provided flickers of light. "Is this it?" Salinye whispered almost inaudibly, but Gyrfalcon held his hand up. Steam hissed and the floor shook as a massive iron golem stepped forward. "Greetings, Elder Gyrfalcon." it rumbled. Gyrfalcon bowed his head to the guardian. "Greetings. We need use of the chambers for an hour or two." the golem's head tracked between Gyrfalcon and Daryl, then turned farther to inspect Salinye's hidden presence. "Do you take responsibility for those with you?" the golem finally rumbled. "I do." "You may proceed then." The golem announced before turning ponderously and striding away. "Follow me." Gyrfalcon said, walking through the door, which opened as he approached. As Salinye stepped through the door, she felt a tingle run through her. Gyrfalcon turned and raised an eyebrow. "Where'd the tattoo come from, Salinye?" Salinye started and waved her hands for him to stop speaking, understanding now that the tingle had been an anti-magic ward, but the half-elf shook his head. "If whatever or whoever you don't want to let know you're here can breach the wards on this room, we're in very, very serious trouble." Salinye relaxed slightly and looked around. The room was sparsely furnished, a large table with perhaps a dozen chairs around it taking up most of the space. Along one wall was a series of cabinets, and along another, the ever-present book cases. Salinye automatically drifted to the bookcases, reading titles that spoke of military deployments, supply, strategy, and in the case of one thin book. "Gruz's How to Kill Things". "The lexicon of orc strategy." Gyrfalcon said with an amused chuckle. "Since orc strategy is pretty straightforward, the book is one of the smallest here." Daryl yipped from where he is perched on the table, asking what the purpose of this room was, and Gyrfalcon shrugs. "It's the Pen's war room, which is why it's so heavily guarded and warded." the half-elf explained. Salinye looked puzzled. "Has the Pen ever been to war?" she asked curiously, and Gyrfalcon nods. "Once, very early in its history. A nearby king thought he could annex the Pen's fortress and use it for himself. The combined might of the members of the Pen defeated that little adventure, and no one else has really cared enough about a heavily defended fortress out on the fringes of the human controlled lands enough to try again. Still, the room is kept intact should it be necessary again, and it's one of the few rooms that's heavily warded but not well known around the Pen." He turned and eyed Salinye again, noting her leather clothing and the tattoo again. "Now, what's going on Salinye?" He said.

Not so, Thomas- you simply had to create an account and post, so that we could make the neccesary change to your status. Welcome back, Thomas.

Heya Immortalis, welcome back. It's good to see you around again. As you may have noticed, most of the AM UBB people migrated over here back around just before AM went offline for a couple months and thus the UBBs went away. There's good news and bad news: Good: Things should be familiar, as I'm still a moderator. Bad: Things should be familiar, as I'm still a moderator. On the other hand, we really haven't had to deal with spam, flame wars, and idiots around here. Everyone's polite (and in some cases, Polite), and extremely talented. *grins* Anyway, enjoy your stay around here.

Nice work Tralla, somewhat unsettling, and it leaves me wondering who the poor human was that encountered this vampire. I do like the bit about the priest and the cross, however... true faith is so hard to find these days, it seems. I wonder what the vampire thinks about garlic- probably not a whole lot. *grins*

Gyrfalcon's arms numbed slightly as he blocked the dark paladin's massive blow. Behind him, Reyn's breath rattled in his throat as his spirit flew free of its mortal prison. Gyrfalcon retreated in perfect balance, getting distance from the knight, but his thoughts were not on the knight in front of him, but on the pitiful wretch behind him. Ever since they had first met, Reyn had dogged Gyrfalcon's steps, looking to make a quick buck. Associating with those both violent and evil, Reyn had never really been either. An opportunist, certainly. Reyn was willing to stretch his morals for enough money, but he was... or had not been... a soul stained black by any stretch of the word. One of those monsters advanced now upon Gyrfalcon. The half-elf looked up, and Kraisis paused momentarily at the grief in the half-elf's eyes. Grief that was replaced with a burning rage. Gyrfalcon's face froze into a determined expression as he started towards Kraisis. "Anti-paladin..." Gyrfalcon snarled, and Kraisis flushed with the insult. "For your crimes, the gods will judge you... prepare yourself to meet them!" Gyrfalcon charged, his katana cutting arcs through the air, ringing from Kraisis's sword as the warrior blocked the blow and countered. Gyrfalcon parried, and the two fought in circles, trading blows that sparked on chainmail and steel studs, but most often on steel blades.. After long moments, the two stepped back, their weapons held ready. A wary respect had entered both sets of eyes, and Gyrfalcon forced his rage to the side to regard the fallen knight with cool, dispassionate eyes. In contrast, even as the half-elf calmed to a state of frozen serenity balanced on the edge of a sword, the fallen knight grew steadily more angry. Raising his sword, the knight snarled an oath, then charged, shouting "For Celestia!" Gyrfalcon stepped forward before spinning out of the knight's path and guiding the sword away from his body. His counter was weak and clanged off of the knight's chainmail, but it served to sting the dark paladin's pride. "For all those you and your companions murdered. Father Andrews... even Reyn..." Their blades sparked and wove as they struck and parried, countered and riposted. Breaths came hard as they locked blades and stood face to face. Gyrfalcon locked his eyes with Kraisis's one good one. "Can you hear their voices when you sleep, paladin?" the half-elf whispered. Kraisis snarled and thrust Gyrfalcon away with his greater strength.. Yet as Gyrfalcon set himself, he saw a momentary look on the fallen paladin's face, perhaps a shadow of guilt. But Kraisis's face hardened again. "You stand in the way of destiny, fool." the one-eyed man snarled. Gyrfalcon sighed quietly as he looked at the paladin's eye, and saw the eye of a fanatic. There could be no redemption for this fallen paladin. Without words, Kraisis struck. "So be it. May the gods judge you mercifully." Gyrfalcon said, meeting the knight's slash and turning it. Their blades rang as the half-elven blademaster and the paladin who had trained all his life for battle fought. Both bled from small wounds, but neither was willing to yield. Both knew that the first mistake would be the fighter's last. The two fighters began to gasp for breath, and sweat poured down their faces. Gaps began to open in their defenses, but neither had the strength or speed to exploit these gaps before they closed again. Then Kraisis arced a heavy slash, and the half-elf's block was a moment too slow. Gyrfalcon cried out as the blade slashed sparked off studs and slashed through leather, cutting a gash across his upper right arm. Kraisis panted, his sword in a weak guard, but he knew the half-elf could not counter. Gyrfalcon stepped back and clutched at his wound, his katana's hilt pressed hard against bleeding flesh, a bar of agony laid across a stripe of pain. Kraisis stepped forward, sword raised. "Your death shall avenge that of my lost love!" he said, swinging the sword back farther, intending to end the life of his enemy in one crashing blow. Gyrfalcon stepped forward, and Kraisis stiffened as the half-elf's sharp blade pierced chainmail and leather, and the flesh underneath. "May the gods judge you mercifully." Gyrfalcon said as the fallen paladin's sword fell from his hands to ring against stone, unheard by its owner. Kraisis stared ahead blankly, and sighed as he slid from Gyrfalcon's katana to the cold stone floor. "My love... there you... are..." he whispered with his last breath. Gyrfalcon slumped against a nearby wall and panted for breath. Wearily, he cleaned his blade and sheathed it, then set about binding his arm. It took a few tries, but he managed to finally secure the knot on the bandage to his satisfaction. Testing his arm, he grimaced in pain. At least I'm left-handed. he thought grimly. Walking past Kraisis' body, He spent a few moments freeing Reyn from the cross he had been crucified on. The half-elf spent a few moments arranging Reyn in a position of repose, wishing that he was a cleric, to remove the bloody symbols that had been carved on Reyn's chest. They were familiar... but the language and meaning eluded the half-elf. He sighed and closed the mercenary's eyes. Rising, the half-elf started to walk back Kraisis, but paused. "I don't have time for this." he argued with his conscious, but he bent down and closed the paladin's eyes anyway. Anything more would have to wait. The half-elf stumbled from the hall, and searched the floor near the entrance. Sure enough, the way he had come was marked by four sets of feet, one being dragged... but the corridor leading away, had only one set of tracks. Gyrfalcon rose and had to wait a moment to let the dizziness fade. Shaking his head, he trotted forward, letting his enemy lead the way for him. He just hoped that Jagon didn't have too much of a lead yet.

Gyrfalcon finally gets to the head of the long, long line of well-wishers and bows deeply to Yui-chan. "Happy birthday, Yui-chan!" he says happily, handing her a small gift-wrapped package. Yui-chan unwrapped the small box at the half-elf's insistence to reveal a pair of black pearl earrings. "They're not enchanted, but I choose them because they're also known as shadow pearls." the half-elf explained, sweeping into another bow. "Happy birthday to you, Yui-chan." he said with a grin before yielding his place to another well wisher. As he left, he heard Yui-chan say to Aegon "And what did you get me?" His keen ears even heard Aegon's muttered "Uh oh..."

Happy Birthday, Arawn.

Happy Birthday, Arwen.

Gyrfalcon grins. "Heh, nope, not a thing Yui-chan... though I will admit..." he leans forward in a conspiratorial manner. "Celes's cafe has some excellent coffee." He confides with a wink.

Happy Birthday, Vincent Silver. I hope you enjoy many more.

Actually, Annael, I was pulling them out of AD&D's 3rd Edition Monster Manual. Otherwise, yes I know about Brownies.

Mira got the definition of AD&D, so here's some of the 'fae' species (I'll avoid demons and angels and most dragons) Pseudodragon - resembles a miniture red dragon and are three feet long (one foot body, two feet tail.) Their scales are red-brown rather then pure red. They communicate telepathically and can make animal noises such as purring, hisss, a chirp, or growl. Alignment: Neutral Good. They are telepathic, can see the invisable, are immune to sleep and paralyse effects. They can sting with their barbed tail or bite. Their sting is poisonous and delivers a sleep-poison that can render someone unconscious for a minute or one to three days, depending on whether or not the person can shake off the poison. Pixie - resembles a small elf, but with longer ears and gossamer wings. They wear bright clothing, including a cap and shoes with curled and pointed toes. Pixies stand about 2 1/2 feet tall. Pixies can turn themselves invisable at will, and even maintain that ability when attacking (unlike most invisability spells) Alignment: Neutral Good And that's about it for the more playful spirits. The other fae are nixies and a grasshopper-type fae.