Gyrfalcon

*Gyrfalcon laughs* You ate Winamp 3.0? What's everyone else going to do about upgrading their Winamps, hmm? (Well, alright, if you eat someone or something, there's usually a good reason for it.) A good poem, but it's not quite understandable when given in the context of what you told me on IRC. I didn't notice Winamp stealing anything but free memory while I'm using it. *grins*

Whoot, nice song, Falcon. *applauds*

Hmm... fairly good poem, Falcon. Actually, the 'Bastard of Time' reminds me of a series of books I've seen before: Casca, the Eternal Mercenary. Basically, he was the Roman legionaire who stabbed Christ in the side. In return (repayment?), Christ made Casca immortal until they should meet again. No matter what happens to him, Casca can't die. And since all he's really known is fighting, he goes around killing people, fighting in every major war. Basically, it was a vehicle for the author to write battle stories anywhere in history, but this reminded me of the character.

I am so never stepping foot in a factory... unless they need their computers fixed for some reason. Good story, Zadown, now I think I'll look askance at every factory I pass by. Heh.

Gyrfalcon growled to himself as he took careful aim and loosed his next arrow, only to watch it shatter against the scales surrounding the sea serpent’s eye as it turned its head to look at Kaleyra. It began to turn to attack the annoying insect that was firing barbs at it, but Kaleyra darted across the easily distractible creature’s field of sight, and it struck at her, missed, and wound up for another strike. Gyrfalcon distracted it once more with another arrow, though he was becoming annoyed at not being able to do any real harm to the sea serpent. It was just moving its head too quickly for Gyrfalcon to manage to sink his arrow into a small, moving target a fair distance away. Still, between his arrows and Kaleyra’s aerobatics, the sea serpent was totally distracted and was making no further moves to harm the ship. “Gyr, why don’t you hit it with magic?” Timothy asked as his hands tightened and relaxed on the handle of his sword. Several of the crewmembers had out crossbows but were holding their fire, not wanting to turn the beast’s attention on themselves. “Because-“ Pause as he releases another shaft, this one bouncing off the bridge of the creature’s snout, right between the eyes. Damnable scales, that one might have hurt it without them. “Most of the spells I have memorized are fire magic. The rest are personal protection or summon creatures. Land-based creatures, which are no good on a ship.” “So? It’s a water creature, fire will probably drive it off!” Timothy said, impatient with the half-elf’s apparent slowness. “Timothy, what are we standing on?” Gyrfalcon asked calmly, adjusting his aim to the rocking of the ship as the sea serpent thrashed its tail in frustration. “A ship, of course. What does that-“ “And what is a ship made out of?” “Wood. Why are you asking-“ “How far away is dry land? Six, seven days? Can you swim for that long with the sea serpent, sharks, and all the other wonderful creatures of the ocean?” “No, no one can. What’s the point of all these questions?” Timothy said, starting to become angry from the constant interruptions. “So, you concede we’re standing on a highly flammable ship at a great distance from dry land, fighting a creature that happens to be fairly immune to fire, due to its ability to go underwater and come back up slightly scorched and extremely angry.” Gyrfalcon said calmly, then released another arrow at the sea serpent. Like the others, it merely bounced off the creature’s protective scales. Timothy fell silent, not having much to offer against Gyrfalcon’s logic. Above them, Kaleyra still dived and swooped, adrenaline allowing her to ignore the slowly growing aches in her flight muscles as she kept the sea serpent’s direction on her.

Yes, welcome to the People Who Love Rice convention! (PWLR... hmm.. PWLR to the people! It sort of works!) I made you hungry, Cel les? My appologies- that must have been a night to be hungry or something. Yeah, English steals words from a lot of other languages. On the other hand, its highly adaptable. Of course, eventually we'll be speaking corrupted forms of French/German/Italian/everything else without realizing it. *chuckles* Note: I'm a former member of LotWR, and thus I'm allowed to be forgetful about the number of 'l's in Lady Celles' name. Really! Edited by: Gyrfalcon25 at: 8/2/02 12:08:01 pm

*Gyrfalcon returns the hug with a laugh* No, I don't have anything against hugs- one moment. *Gyrfalcon points at Wyvern* I know why you'd try to hug me, so don't. For one thing, I keep my money in a safe location anymore. *turns back to Lady Celes* Heh, sorry for not responding, but I was asleep up until a few hours ago. I live on the west coast of the United States, and thus I happen to be sleeping through most of your day, it seems. Nyyark, while silence does have its good points, it does help to have people you can talk to when you want or need to. *smiles*

The evil laughter was good, but you start on a "Mwa", not a "Mou" like this: *Gyrfalcon laughs in an insanely evil fashion* MwaHAHAHhahahahHAHAHhahaha! See? *grins*

You put cheese on rice? You fiend! Rice is meant to have butter on it, along with salt. mm... now I'm hungry again! I'm going to get you for that, Nyyark. *goes to eat another dinner*

While I'm not Wyvern, I can answer some of your questions: No, you don't have to mention the Pen in your story, though you can if you want to. What is meant by 'write an application specifically in the hopes of joining our society' is that you must write an original work to show your dedication to the Pen, not copy and paste an old work and call it good. Heh, no, not at all! While the Pen did find its beginnings in Archmage, and I think one or two of us still play, many of us have retired from archmage. This is not an archmage guild, and you do not need to play Archmage to be part of it. You don't even have to play Archmage unless you want to. And no, you are not stupid at all- they were valid questions. You're NOT Celes Crusader? Dang, there goes the overspanning French plot on her part to take control of the pen membership with clones of herself. *Gyrfalcon is hugged* You hug people a lot, don't you? It sort of shows in the signature. *hugs back quickly*

Gyrfalcon pressed his back against the tunnel wall and counted the number of arrows left in his quiver by touch- seventeen. Of course, that meant thirteen assassins dead, but it didn’t seem to lessen their numbers any. “All right, lets see if you’ve finally gone away.” Gyrfalcon whispered soundlessly before spinning away from the wall, pulling his bow taut as he stood in the entrance to the bridge chamber once more. His half-elven eyes cut through the gloom to pick out one black-clad shape, and without pause, Gyrfalcon aimed and loosed his arrow. At such a short range, no more then 60 feet, the figure was slammed against the opposite wall by the force of the arrow. In return, a pair of crossbows clicked before the assassins dove for cover. Both bolts flew wide, but they forced Gyrfalcon back none the less, as was their purpose. The assassins had learned at the cost of fourteen of their number not to underestimate either Gyrfalcon’s skill or the might of his composite longbow. With a soft sigh, Gyrfalcon slipped back into the tunnel. For whatever reason, the assassins meant to hold that chamber, and alone, Gyrfalcon had no chance and no way to force his way across. Silently, he unstrung his longbow and replaced it on his back, then drew his katana and ghosted down the hallway, footsteps silent in the darkness. Elsewhere... Seth muttered to himself as he entered the chamber and gazed at the waterfall once more. A beautiful chamber, if you ignored the corpses scattered across it... and a pair of carrion crawlers messily feeding on one of the bodies. Seth averted his eyes to avoid losing the contents of his stomach. Scavengers, whether above ground or below, were messy feeders. Suddenly, Seth stopped. If he came down one tunnel, and his companions had gone down the other... they would have encountered and probably have killed these creatures, unless they came from a third tunnel! Ten minutes of searching proved nearly fruitless, until Seth noticed the trails of water across the stones, and searched near the pool. Finally, he noticed a deeper darkness behind the waterfall, and carefully slid behind the waterfall to discover that it indeed was a tunnel, slopping downwards. With a deep breath, Seth started down into the deeper darkness. Behind him, the carrion crawlers fed.

Go Canid! And stop scaring the passer-bys, please. I wonder where Daryl went off to, though? *Somewhere out in the forest, a groggy NRA president wakes up. "What da heck hit me?" he shook his head and unsteadily stood, automatically checking for his guns. Finding them all missing, he frantically patted himself down, noticing that his hunting coats and cap was gone. "Whoever stole my guns, well, I'm just goin' a have to hurt 'em a might..." he drawled, growing very angry. A short bark brought his head up. Sitting across the clearing from him was a very strange fox. For one thing, it was dressed in the remains of one of his coats, the sleeves having been torn off short of the torso to accomodate its forearms, the body also raggedly shortened to its own. Slouched across its head and covering one of its golden, mirthful eyes was his hunting cap. "Hey, thats my cap! Give it back, ya raggedy varmint!" the irate NRA member growled as he started across the clearing. He stopped short as he heard the click of a gun's safety. "Wha- what the heck's goin on here?" he said, sweat beading his face. The strange fox said nothing (of course, being a fox, it's not like he could, anyway), but instead picked up a scroll in his mouth, letting it unroll down. It showed a bad image of the NRA president and was titled. "NRA Hunting Season- OPEN" Behind the fox, many others began to appear, several wearing parts of hunting ensembles. "Oh dear God, have mercy..." the NRA president said as he turned and ran, the foxes darting after him. Be careful who you hunt, because someday, down the road, he or she, or a family member will be there waiting for you. And then the hunter becomes the hunted.

Yay, your application is finally completed! Good job Canid, I liked reading this, though the lower eyelids thinning bit is somewhat... strange. Do you plan to add to this story or is it now completed?

*Gyrfalcon applauds* A good poem, Falcon, I enjoyed reading it. You gave it that triumpant note as you stepped free of your despair and rose back to happiness- good work!

I agree with Peredhil, both on its quality and the need for spell checking. *smiles* Is it me, or is this set in the Final Fantasy III/VI (depending on whether you count by American or Japanese releases of these games) universe? Or is it just your own making and there happens to be an Empire?

*applauds* Cool, I like how you wrote this. Its surreal, yet it doesn't come off as being somethihng straight out of a hallucination. *grins* Very good.

*Gyrfalcon clears his throat* YAY!

*Gyrfalcon applauds, laughing* I think I'll have to show this to a friend of mine who was in color guard for several years- I think she'd agree with you.

*Gyrfalcon laughs* That was pretty funny, though I never knew that the chickens I might eat could be so fierce, at least in dreams. *grins* Good entry post, and be patient- Wyvern will get to you eventually. =)

What words can I add that have not already been said? Good work, Wyvern. *Gyrfalcon applauds*

Reverie- Aragorn, you mean? Arwen is Elrond's daughter. *considers the poem* I think it does set the mood for the scene you describe. *Gyrfalcon applauds* Good poem, Canid! =)

*Gyrfalcon laughs and applauds* An excellent view of the move from the cats' perspective and though processes- how is it going to affect me? So, how are all three of you settling in?

Well, since as I understand it that its Styler's apartment, I'd have thought that he'd already be settled in. *grins* Badly spoken concept, I guess. Still, thats good- and even better is that peace reigns among your cats- for now.

The last assassin fell to the ground in front of Gyrfalcon, clutching at his throat and gurgling out his last moments. With a shake of his head, Gyrfalcon flicked his wrist, and his blade shed the blood that covered it. Looking up, Gyrfalcon took stock of his companions- Stick leaned on his namesake weapon, panting for breath, among a ring of fallen assassins. And Seth... was nowhere to be seen. Across the small pool, William held the strangely clad assassin's throat, and was staring at her in shock. The woman struggled futilely against his implacable grasp. A moment later, William gasped for breath and spoke in low tones to her. Across the lake, Gyrfalcon couldn’t hear what he had to say- but he could hear the low rasp of a boot on stone from behind him. Without looking, Gyrfalcon reversed his grip on his katana and stabbed behind him. There was a low strangled grunt, then a thud. Reversing his grip once more, Gyrfalcon sighed as he saw the new blood decorating the tip of his katana. These assassins just don’t know when to stay down and act dead. Gyrfalcon thought to himself as he flicked his wrist again to rid his sword of this newest stain. He looked over, and blinked as William held the Sword of Roses to the woman’s throat. He spoke, his words still lost, but the harder tone of his voice making its way across the cavern. The woman replied, and William turned away. Then he stopped, turned back slightly, and spoke once more, his expression cold. Then, with an imperious gesture, he motioned for Stick and Gyrfalcon to follow him. The two exchanged glances before walking around the perimeter of the now-bloody lake to join William. “William- have you seen Seth?” Gyrfalcon asked quietly as they walked down the tunnel, a spell of light cast on the tip of Stick’s weapon lighting the way. Gyrfalcon ignored the mock-hurt look that Stick cast his way- the wood of Stick’s weapon held the druidic enchantment that Gyrfalcon had cast better then the metal of Gyrfalcon’s own katana would. William broke step for a moment, but then Stick spoke. “I saw him run through a tunnel entrance with an assassin after him... but I’m not sure if it was this one or the one leading back up to the Pen’s Keep.” Gyrfalcon frowned “The tunnels are a bit distinctive, I’d think...” Stick smiled “I was spinning like a top to keep one of those assassins from backstabbing me.” Gyrfalcon grinned, “I know what you mean- you’d think that with numbers they’d all come straight on, but nooo... they kept on going for a backstab.” Elsewhere... Seth muttered a curse to himself that he would never use in polite company. “Where are my glasses? I know they’re around here somewhere...” Seth muttered to himself as he crawled across the rough stone of the tunnel’s floor. Stone... stone... assassin... wonderful, now I have to clean off my hands again. Couldn’t he have the decency to... glasses. “Oh yes, they just have to land in the puddle of blood. I’m never going to get all the blood off of them now.” Seth said in disgust as he stood, took out an already bloodstained handkerchief, and began to wipe his glasses off as best as he could. After several moments, Seth looked around, and muttered to himself again. A moment later, a softly glowing ball of light appeared next to him and illuminated the tunnel. Seth frowned to himself as he looked around, but he couldn’t find anything distinctive to mark whether he had been in this tunnel before or not- or even which way he was turned. Sighing, Seth bent and retrieved his cane, then retrieved his sword with some distaste from the body of the assassin. Looking around for something to use to wipe it off, Seth finally had to resort to the assassin’s clothing before he sheathed his sword. When I started off on this adventure, I thought it would be peaceful, mostly. Instead, only one night out, and we’re ambushed on my watch, and then attacked again only a few minutes later! Frowning, Seth took another glance around, then decided to choose a direction to begin walking. If he was in the Pen’s tunnel, he would no doubt end up back in the cavern or in the Pen’s basement. If he was in the other tunnel, he would end up in the cavern or the others would catch up with him. Either way, he saw no reason to worry for himself. Still, his thoughts turned to his friends, who he had last seen in conflict. “May the Lord God watch over them.” He murmured in half-prayer for his friend’s safety, though he intellectually knew that with their combined skills, they would most likely be safe.

(Conversion Confusion, this is actually the third post in this thread) I know the answer, but I'll refrain from posting it until Bhurin says we should. *bows*