The Portrait of Zool

"Indeed - S-good to see ya!"

As other threads show, the Mighty Pen first became active around the Oct-Nov 2000 time frame, with members including Peredhil, Orlan, Yui, and others, and of course our illustrious founder Ozymandias. We were a working guild, and each of us took up duties to help out. My first assignment was as the Unofficial Official Recruiter. How better to execute my duties than with a short post illustrating the perils and glories of joining the Mighty Pen? Disregarding any importance it may now have other than pure nostalgia, for years I thought that first Pen Post had been lost - but recently on going through some ooooooold files... I found it! Enjoy. You have come a long way, and are a little dissapointed at what you see before you. You scan the forest beside the meadow you are in but see no other structure of any kind. Your steed moves to another clump of sweet grass and crops it close to the ground. His mane twitches in the bright morning sun, the sweet smell of grass and flowers fill the air. You get out your map, and sight in various directions, verrifying the mountaintops and other landmarks with the drawing before you. You are definitely at the right place. You dismount and tie you steed to the post there, then walk up to the door of the small shack and give a loud knock. "Come," says a voice from inside. You lift the catch and enter. Light streams in through the open windows of the shack, showing the green meadow and the snow-capped mountains beyond. Seated at a delapidated desk is Zool. He has a large book open in front of him that he is writing in very fast. "Well, you've come a long way. State your reasons," he says conversationally, without looking up. Your face grows hot as you think of all the time you spent getting here, and now you are asked to relate your story to someone you are not even sure is listening. You think about it, then quell your anger, chalking up this situation as just another task in your quest. You tell your story. You tell Zool about your trials and triumphs, your amusements and ambitions. You tell him that you have been an Archmage for a while, but soon grew tired of the repetitive roleplay (if any) and general lack of imagination that seems to plague the game. You tell him of the delights of the occasional wordplay or witty arrows durring a particularly bloody battle. You subconsciously finger your sword hilt as you recall some particularly harrowing wars. You even smile as you recall some well fought battles of words on the boards. Ah! You have made some good friends, and some enemies. You tell him you hope to be a powerful Archmage, but even more so, to be a Bard to reckon with. "And what is that in the satchel?" asked Zool, again without looking up. You slowly take the satchel from your shoulder. It is full of slips of paper, parchment, bark, anything you could write on. Most of the words you have written are in this satchel. You select a few of your favorites and pass them into Zool's waiting hand. He begins reading them. Suddenly the peaceful morning air outside is punctured with the roar of a mighty beast. You know that sound well, it is that of a Red Dragon! You draw your sword and turn to the door in a single smooth motion. "Don't you think this interview requires something else?" asks Zool. You turn around to see he is looking you in the eye. You think quickly, recalling everything you have seen, and you begin to wonder just what is going on... You place your sword to the side, and reach down to the book in front of Zool, placing a hand under each cover. It is a large heavy old book which resists as you begin to close it. In a disorienting shift of light and shadow, the rays of the sun through the window cant up to a high angle as the the covers of the book rise to meet. The Dragon outside bellows again, this time in alarm as the nature of the setting is abruptly altered. The wooden walls begin to harden and gray, and you feel slightly dizzy as if you were suddenly moving at a great speed. You hear the Dragon scream now, and then finally it utters an outraged, "Yew suk!" as with a thunderclap the book closes, and Zool's constructed enemy winks out of existance. You find you are now in the stone walled room of a fortified Keep, and the windows reveal a broad plane, with a thin blue river winding through a farm checked landscape, far down below the mountain you are on. Zool rises from behind the massive table he was sitting at, and shakes your hand. "Very good. I see you understand," he says with a smile, "That the Pen is Mightier than the Sword." ********************* If you are interested in Joining "The Pen is Mightier than the Sword", then Archmail me on A1. Good Luck.

Sweet! Take good care, good sir.

The Portrait of Zool, hanging from his wall in his portraitured state, was unable to join the revelry around him, but he was having a good time anyway, doing what portraits do - aside from grinning like death under a mask of dust and cobwebs against a midnight background with fog spilling out and around... He watched amusedly as Kikuyu and Dego abducted Wyvern, and laughed uproariously as the cumin bomb went off sending Wyvern into a fit of coughing - then Zool caught a whiff of the cumin himself and... had... to... "AH-Choo!!" The cumin cloud had spread right up to Zool's portrait! Dust, cobwebs, and fog billowed from the painting as Zool went into a fit of sneezes, which in turn reinforced further sneezing. Fortunately, the loud music covered most of the noise, though anyone who happened to look up at that time saw an apoplectic Zool jerking and twitching in seemingly unceasing sneezes. It was such a sight that Grimmael almost smiled. Ha! What a great party! (Ah-choo!)

Well hello! Welcome back.

There is?

Indeed, congrats congrats!

I voted yes, but if allowed to specify the type of feedback on the sidebar I myself would put "If you must." Seriously, I am always open to feedback, but don't particularly seek any, as I really just write for fun. That said, I am also always open to discussing how I can improve. So, I wouldn't particularly find it that useful for myself, BUT we are a writing site and as such I can't think of something more appropriate to put in our sidebar - as long as it didn't stand out from the rest of the info too much.

Zool was glad to see some people begin to arrive. He was very pleased at the inventiveness and imagination they used in their costumes! "Why, Mynx came as the Countess!" thought Zool to himself. "How elegantly deadly she looks in that gown!" (Zool didn't know much about anything, but one would be surprised the things one sees and learns just hanging on a wall for a few centuries!) Tanuchan looked positively dangerous in her tiger stripes, and Wyvern looked... Wyvern looked strangely like himself. Despite his costume, Zool paled when Wyvern stated his intention to get the 'paint diffusing insecticide' to cure his 'infestation'. "Uh..! Wyv! No! It's JUST a COSTUME! I'm NOT INFESTED!" Wyvern's many 'technologically advanced wooden arm enhancements', splints and wheels made such a creaking groaning clatter as he scrambled to turn around that he was unfortunately unable to hear what Zool was saying clearly - not to mention the noise of his own avarice. "Don't worry Zool! I'll save you - and be sure to give you the bill! After all, what's one life worth? Let me count the Geld...!" Dollar signs were in his eyes. "Oh bother.." said Zool, then shouted over Wyv's head. "Grimmael! GRIMMAEL!" Grimmael's head turned at the first shout from the food table he was setting up, then dragged himself over. "You screamed, sir?" he said dryly. "Grim, Thank GOD - Wyvern thinks I am infested and is going to get some paint diffusing insecticide to cure me!!" "Now Zool I told you..." "JUST STOP HIM!" Grimmael frowned and stuck his crippled foot in front of the retreating Wyvern. The skateboard wheels jammed tight and Wyvern teetered into a crashing pile. "OWWWW!" yelped Wyvern. "Now do you believe me?" asked Grimmael. "Yes, YES I believe you." Zool grimmaced as Grimmael began peeling off layers of cobwebs. "...but keep some in the corners pleease... I mean... if you think it's okay..." "...medic..." said Wyvern in a strained voice. Zool and Grimmael both looked down at Wyvern. "Heh! Good thing you already had all those splints and bandages on!" said Zool. Wyvern looked up blearily, focusing slowly on Zool's visage. "You... You're not infested anymore...OW!" he said as Grimmael gingerly helped the dazed almost-dragon to his feet. "No, uh... Grim cured me." Suddenly a look of rembering lit his face as he glanced at the massive Conservatory clock on the wall. "Say, isn't it about time for the band to arrive...?" As Zool spoke, a brilliant point of red light suddenly appeared in the center of the conservatory. The point of light expanded into a brilliant portal ringed with fire, out of which stepped as menacing of an entourage as the Pen had ever seen. First out stepped the Lord of the Night. Skin as pale as death, spotlessly dressed in Tux and cape, hair meticulously combed back, teeth and eyes as sharp as impaling spikes. He made a single motion with a hand, and an enormous pipe organ appeared on the stage. Next came a trio of zombie girls to sing backup, chillingly clumsy, revoltingly decayed, wearing dresses that would be HOT on a live woman but only turned the stomach with what they revealed tonight. Then out shuffled the Mummy, bass guitar gripped by the neck. Then came the wolfman, pouncing from place to place and swinging his six-string like an axe. Lastly, came the drummer. Barely squeazing through the portal, accompanied with the stiff smell of sulphur and burning souls, his long horns almost scraping the ceilling and his hooves gouging the floor in a shower of sparks, the Ruler of the Nine Hells trotted heavily to the stage where with another flash of smoke and sparks appeared The Drumset from Hell! "Zool!" exclaimed Grimmael. "What have you done now?!?" "Yeah, I know - the Surfing Druids were booked - but don't worry, these guys came remarkably cheap - though I had to sign some goofy contract - in blood." Just then Satan looked over at Zool and chuckled smugly before going back to tuning up his drums. "The jokes on them though," said Zool to Grimmael from behind his hand. "The 'blood' I signed with is nothing but cheap paint." Grimmael swallowed hard as the band began to play. He doubted heavily if what the blood was made out of mattered at all.

(OOC: Just show up with a costume and your sense of fun! I'll open and we'll see what happens. ) Still hanging regally after all these years, the portrait of Zool stood proudly - under a thick layer of cobwebs. A haze of dust and dark patina covered the gilt frame, giving it gloomy and abandoned air. What could be seen of his visage from under the cobwebs looked even more decrepit. Most of the flesh had been stripped from his skull, and only one eye socket still had an eye in it. His clothes hung in tatters on an emaciated frame, and the one hand that showed was more bone than flesh. Even Matt, his possessed pompadour, looked patchy and limp. Clearly, Zool had seen better days... or had he? Uncannily, moving slowly at first but then shuddering unmistakably, the rotten lips began to move, first spitting clumsily, then hissing the words of a curse from hell! "'Ow d' I 'ook?" "What?" said Grimmael distractedly as he arranged cobwebs. The hideous face in the portrait morphed back into Zool's regular face. "I said, 'How do I look?'" Grimmael stood back a few paces, craning back and turning slightly to regard the enormous portrait with his good eye. Zool obligingly resumed his ghoulish appearance. "You're overdoing it." "O'm...” Zool stuttered and grimaced, then changed back again to his ordinary face. “Oh, come on!" he said, "Couldn't I use some more cobwebs? I have to look haunted!!" "Any more cobwebs and you will look infested, to undoubtedly be summarily ejected from the Keep." "No! All right alright... Fog! I can put some fog in my background!" As Zool spoke, the background of his portrait, which was pretty desolate already, grew dark as night, then the ground clouded over with an eerie blanket of graveyard fog. He turned around to take a look, then faced the front again, smiling happily. "Ahh, that's the ticket - much better." The rubber chicken momentarily poked his head out of Zool's tattered jacket, hir rubberness almost completely covered in mummy wrappings, then hse disappeared again. "Not bad", agreed Grimmael, then added, "Just try to not fog everyone out just yet," as some of the fog began to roll out of the portrait and onto the Conservatory floor. "Remember, Halloween isn't until tonight." "Oh, sorry," said Zool as he looked to the bottom of his painting. The fog spillage slowed considerably, but stubbornly refused to stop completely. "Well, it's not that bad..." Grimmael rolled his eyes, and turned to leave, dragging his half shrunk body. "Wait! Grimmael!" Zool called. As he turned his attention back To Grimmael the fog resumed spilling liberally. Grimmael sighed. "Yes?" "Aren't you going to dress up?" Grimmael drew himself to some semblance of proud posture. "My dignity is my constant costume," he replied. Zool opened his mouth to reply, but finding nothing to say closed it again. "Spoilsport," he murmured, as Grimmael resumed his exit, but not too loudly. Indeed, Grimmael had little but dignity. “Now,” thought Zool as he re-donned his ‘dead face’, “To scare up a little action!” Grinning eerily into the unusually dim, fog shrouded Conservatory, he waited…

For the Scarlet Pimpernel fans among us... http://www.blakeneymanor.com/series.html

Welcome back Whisky! We missed you, and look forward to a lot more of your posts.

Time for a quick reference - more later... http://www.usatoday.com/life/books/news/20...an_N.htm?csp=34

*Zool zips through...* Ack! How did I miss this? Happy Belated Yui. Missing you all!

The Three Musketeers - one of my favorite classics! The book is truly about friendship, imo, with an ending as touching as it is heartbreaking, though it's not an end I've ever seen in any of the adaptations. Seems to drag a little in the middle - though that's only because the rest of the book is so exciting, and the ending is well worth the wait! Dumas was truly one of the greats.

I love your avatar hig4s. Looking at your wonderful post, could your avatar possibly be inspired by The Pirates of Penzance?

Ya know, I come from a long line of stammering dancers (It's not a pretty picture, but then neither am I ). Remind me to tell you of our kin convention in Cancun some time (to make a long story short, it wound up in court) - though as to your first point, I do believe you are correct on the second count - that would be a pro-con, methinks... ?

"Just goes to show me, I spose... Never try to con a con." And with that the portrait doffs his infamous hairpiece to Wyvern in a sincere bow of respect, before once again resuming his eternal pose upon the walls of the mighty Keep of the Pen is Mightier than the Sword!.

After Wyvern's proclamation, an oily visage hanging on the wall began to move, and then to speak - though as usual made very little sense... "Funny you should mention that Wyv - seems to me there was this time I wound up at a conventional convict convention, which of all things was held at a convent! Talk about convenient! No act of congress congruently convening with that connection! Con-found it! I suppose that makes it a Con-con-con... con. Of course, it was in Connecticut..." But a con... nope.

Wow. Powerful words, my friend. http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif Powerful words.

I await with painted breath!

From up on the wall of the Cabaret an Ancient Visage stirs. Could it be...? A strange, far off echo of days long past... The Portrait of Zool stirs to life. Long inanimate, he moves slowly at first, then yawns and stretches, shaking the dust off his canvas before peering down into the semi-lit gloom and oddly fog shrouded floor of the Cabaret. "Could it be...?" he murmurs... Xeros! I knew I sensed a bit of the Old Magic! The Portrait, A long time fixture of the Pen and witness to all it's history, smiled broadly - a sight rarely seen in these days. "It is good to see you Xeros. Welcome back to the Mighty Keep of The Pen is Mightier than the Sword! Bartender, treat Master Xeros to anything he desires - I am sure he is thirsty after his long, long journey back to these parts." "Perhaps he may even regale us with a tale or two of his long journey...

Dissapointedly, I have never been to a convention of any type - and Louisville is a bit out of my range. Hope you have a good time and tell us all about it!

LOL @ Wyv.