Peredhil

Peredhil mused briefly on the idea of a frightened Minta. What in the world could frighten that child? Checking briefly through his pockets, he ensured he had a Summon Zombie scroll as well as his Summon Catnip. They'd need some soothing once rescued. He continued to peer over Lady Celes' shoulder as she scried, noting absently that Nuncio had taken his spot at his shoulder. Turning to acknowledge Nuncio, he was taken back at his drooping whiskers. "Yes?" "Boss, there's a little problem..." "Oh. Should we have a family conference then?" "Well, Guido is in the Cabaret talking to Guido the Bartender, and Elrohir is off searching the roof for some reason." "And Elladan?" "Funniest thing. I passed him in the hallway when I sensed you'd arrived. He DIDN'T have a smile, and was carrying a large can of paint thinner." They looked at each other as they considered what Guido had just said. Guido broke into a run for the door. Peredhil paused a moment to bow to Lady Celes Crusader, and then moved swiftly afterward. An unsmiling Elladan was a Bad Thing. Paint Thinner! What did he think Zool had done?

Well, Dwarves are okay, if you like the type. Some of them aren't too bad. Gimli and Legolas got along well, if I recall, and all five Arvac were decent, although Arvac the Fourth became a cleric of Bhern Caradoc. But Gnomes! You'd let them near machinery??? The only reason they aren't all dead is the high resistence to poisons prevents their constant drug use from killing them. And their promiscuous proclivity toward anything mammalian explains why so many have vestigal tails. exits shaking his head.

Human tend toward action over thought, and taking the immediate solution while ignoring implications. But on the other hand, Elves tend to be so in harmony, they shy from dissonance until it's nearly too late. All in all, Half-Elves are prolly the all around best compromise... Cake is good, if the icing isn't too sweet. Uncooked Lemon pie with graham-cracker crust is possibly my favorite, but then I haven't tried all pies. Cheesecake is good, if not too fruity. Wanders away muttering

Peredhil blushes and wavers between strangling Zool for starting this, or hugging him. Erm. Well. This is all very nice, but I'm really not all THAT! I have far far too many fallible weaknesses! Blame it on the human side...

Holding his sides, he exclaims Oh that's black humor that hits the spot nicely. Well done! Bravo. How wickedly delicious! sniggers as he runs back to work. Welcome back! -Peredhil

From Archmage UBB In response to the Ronstar's defamation of our Guild name. Woods, the Atonal Ent is on the piano ~~~~ Peredhil enters carrying a ream of number 2 heavy bond paper (with watermark). Walking up to the Ronstar, he slaps him on both cheeks with the 512 sheets of paper. “I accept your duel! En garde, Ronstar!” Pulling on his fencer’s meshed mask, Peredhil draws his pen and takes his stance. The pen is a four foot long titanium steel shaft (with hydraulic ink reservoir) and beryllium tipped. The Ronstar folds his portable hibachi (Can you smell what the Ronstar is cooking?), and hesitates. His hand hovers momentarily above his feared mace, Newby-Basher, then moves to his enchanted long sword. Four and a half feet of thrice forged steel , quenched in the hearts of a Dominion, a Devil, and a brown and white spotted Llama, one of its many properties made it light as an epee. (The inertial forces were diverted into cases of Beijing Mah Jongg tiles, but the Ronstar neither knew nor cared about such details.) With a toothy grin, the Ronstar prepares to battle. “What’s up with the Guild name, huh?” He continues, “I mean, the Pen is mightier than the Sword. Who REALLY believes that? A Patriot missile maybe, but a Pen?!?” With deceptive speed, the Ronstar slips from words to attack. Only years of training could have removed the tale-tell signs that give away the commitment: the bunched shoulder, the sudden breath. The knowledgeable bar-flies watching were impressed. The non-insectiod watchers had had a few too many beers to notice the Ronstar’s signs of skill. Peredhil speaks not a word. The Pen twitches in a quarte, a beat to the blade and the Ronstar’s sword slips to the side. The enchanted blade literally whines in frustration as it helps the Ronstar recover his balance. Another attack, another block. Again. As yet, Peredhil’s feet haven’t moved, (although they remain poised lightly,) only the delicate beats of the Pen against the Sword. With a snarl of rage, the Ronstar slip-steps back and swings a devastating side blow. Peredhil squares his feet slightly and swings the Pen in a counter-clockwise circle and up, encountering the Sword on the up-stroke and pushing it up just far enough to pass over Peredhil’s head. A single lock of raven-hair floats to the floor in the wake of the blow. With the Ronstar over-extended, Peredhil extends with viperish speed and pinks the Ronstar’s cheek. Rather than trying to catch his balance, the Ronstar pivots on his forefoot and continues the circular motion. Accelerating through the swing, the air whistles around the Sword as he completes his circle with a lunging stomp of his forward foot. Only to find that Peredhil has dropped to the floor and poked upward. A clang and the Pen shudders off the hidden athletic cup the Ronstar fortuitously wears. Rolling off to the right as the Ronstar completes his motion to the left, Peredhil slips back to his feet. Both are breathing visibly now. The dendroid pianist has set up a soft beat on the piano. A…A…A…A, B-flat…B-flat…B-flat…B-flat, B…B…B…B, C…C…C…C and so on until playing an extended E! He then stops to quaff from his seidel before beginning another beat. With a fluid thumb motion, Peredhil jams a small lever forward. A fountain of ink geysers from the pen! Blinded, the Ronstar moves the Sword in tight but futile guarding motions as Peredhil moves in a half-Elven blur of motion. Snicker-snack flickers the gleaming Pen. The Ronstar can feel his clothes tearing and falling away from his chest; he is acutely aware of his vulnerable heart beating out a rapid tattoo within it’s fleshly cage. (The piano beats a rapid triad in pulsating time.) Then the flickering assault stops. Stumbling to the bar, the Ronstar casts a flagon of ale into his own face to clear it. Blinking rapidly, Sword at ready, he discovers his assailant is gone. Only threads remain of his tunic; indelibly grooved into his meshed undermail are the words: The Pen is Mightier than the Sword Peredhil is not to be seen. The atonal Ent begins playing ‘Fool on the Hill’, the boozy loungers join in. The Ronstar stands alone by the bar, streaming ink and ale, his Sword snarling slightly.

Peredhil wandered in, shaking off the cold with a shiver. After a couple of thousand years, even good healings didn't affect the reactions of repeatedly broken bones to cold. Pausing in the doorway to the Cabaret, he noted that the crowd was light tonight. Ozymandias was arguing with the Portrait of Zool while everyone listened appreciatively to the latest Initiate declaim their work. Here and there, a guest or two sat hunched in on themself, listening with a hungry look at the feast of words and the warm feedback that rolled back. Spying a familiar face, Peredhil moved toward the Visitor. "Well hello!" Elrond pulled out a chair and sat. The bar(shield)maiden deftly dropped off his favorite drink enroute to another table. Elrond's tips were legendary and ensured good service where ever he habitually went. "Really? So they're all in the Keep some where?" "Oh, I'm back for the nonce. Finished researching and wanted to give Elladan a 'heads up'." "Well good. I'm pleased to hear they're treating you well. You should take a stroll around." "Well of course you're welcome." Elrond gestured past a broken turnstile, " Down that hallway is the recruiting center. It's function has slipped a bit - they're doing Role Playing in there too." "Through that corridor is the Banquet Room, a feast of words in every ear. It was a mixture, but of late it's mostly poetry." Turning and pointing to a door beside the bar, "Over that way is the Conservatory, where the Guided Play goes on." "What?" With a smile, Peredhil stood and gestured to a small door on the other side of the long bar. "Men, Women, and Other, all right through that door. Please clean up after yourself, and don't forget to wash your hands!"

Peredhil tries simultaneously to wipe tears from his eyes and hold his aching sides. Uncontrollable chuckles and chortles continue to bubble up. Mercy Lord Jakob! You're killing me.

Peredhil regretted having left the Pen Manors before the thief had been found, but his newly found commitments had summoned. It was with quite some surprise he'd found himself drawn back to the lands of Ager Guild in the neverending Magewars. Even more surprising was finding in this time and place, he was a member of the Angels of Apocalypse. Although he remained earthbound, he was deeply moved by the grace and beauty of their aireal ballet. That so many could move in such coordination fascinated him to no end. Even the chocolate-stained mouths held a certain charming contrast with the blood-stained hands. As he prepared to buckled down to imprinting once again this sphere's unique magical manifestations, 'researching the spells', he stopped and turned to Elladan, ever his Warlord and General. "'Dan, with an active guild to back me, there's no need for you to try to run your armies while I research. Why don't you go back and help at the Pen?" Elladan raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Dad, I may finally get to Attack someone. You aren't just trying to get rid of me, are you?" "No no! Seriously, there was a bit of disturbance back there when I left. I didn't even have a chance to check our things before I came here - Wench was MOST impatient in her summons." Elladan considered his father carefully. For Elrond to claim a bit of disturbance was the same as someone else running in circles and pulling their hair out. This might be a chance to do a bit of constructive fishing in the gene pool. Piously he considered how he could contribute to future generations by culling the present ones. He stiffened and then relaxed with a dangerous glint in his eyes as a thought struck him. "Someone's been in our rooms?" "Possibly. I'm not that concerned, Eru knows I've learned to travel lightly!" Elladan bowed gracefully as he took his leave. "Have fun researching. Let me know when you're done. I have some Mage Sauce ideas for the next BBQ."

Orchestra Cresendo. An off-stage voice announces... Mighty Pen Role-Call... Sound off NOW! Peredhil dances out from behind the curtain, wearing a gucci suit and Mickey Mouse ears. The camera zooms in on his unrealistically clean healthy face and he shouts with a musical smile, Peredhil! As the camera swoops to the next face, he mutters, still smiling, "Well... it worked for Annette and Brittany..."

If you prefer math to people, because it doesn’t lie- Are you anti-social? If when you get over-tired, you have trouble seeing bodies, and see tangled weaves of tension, knots of frustration, patterns of deceit – Are you too sensitive? If you have trouble answering the question, “Why did you do that?” because every action is a summation of many many factors that finally trips the threshold into action, instead of a single reason – Are you lazy? If when you feel threatened, you automatically key on pupil dilation and pulse rate changes to monitor truth and interest – Are you paranoid? If you are having fun, and ideas begin to explode so quickly you can’t talk fast enough, and you end up just making apparently non-sequitur statement as you try to express the ones you can say – Are you incoherent? If when someone asks a question, and you thoughtlessly give a range of accurate answers, and are asked, “How can you even THINK that?!” – Are you a monster? If you are aware of thinking, and of thinking about thinking, and are never unaware even when dreaming – Can you relax? If you can feel another’s pain even more strongly than they do, and they use their own comfortably familiar agonies to try to influence your decisions – Are you a doormat? If you are fortunate, and life has been unfair to another – Should you feel guilty and hold yourself back? If you have difficulty defining boundary conditions on problems, because everything is so obviously interconnected – Do you even know where the box is?

Look! Is that Wyvern? No... Tyrannosaurus Rex! (Dies offering geld.)

Peredhil reads poems. Falcon's last one makes him laugh. Appreciation.

Expressive. The angst reminds me of some of my "Bad-Mood" bands. Strangely enough, Peredhil is listening to the Offspring in the background even as he writes. I do like the formatting codes, since I like to read the poetry/songs aloud to myself. As a favor to speed-readers such as myself, do you think that using italics to mark the reading directions might be more effective than double-parens? -Peredhil

Porcelain Viewer (2/24/02 11:58:07 am) Reply My Application -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Having been encouraged several times by my friends on the Archmage BB and having finally found a spare moment to take a look at the Pen, I shall go ahead and try my hand at applying here. I shall leave both a sample of my poetry and a snippet from a story I am currently in the process of completing. ~Porcelain ----------------------------- "If the World Should Break" if the world should break and from its very foundations crumble you will find me standing still i am not what i once was and my skin is no more of your concern the lines of my face may not win your grace but i am real and i am here even if i'm out of place if the world should break and the firmament spiral into the seas you will find me singing still and sure over the ashes hatred will not craft me into a sweeter shape of silver i will still be blue and bold and bright as the heavens at midnight despite all the times you'd told me that it's a sin to shine if the world should break and all that you once held true comes crashing down from overhead you will find me offering you my hand through the rubble smiling soft, ready to see you through i'm not like you ----------------------------- A Passage from "Gutter Nymphs" ( I ) - Karian ~ Even though she had left the real world only hours ago, Karian de Roe had come to the conclusion that being dead left a lot to be desired. [Karian de Roe, you have been judged by the Council of the Circle, and your life has been deemed devoid of humanity. You are hereby sentenced to eternal damnation within the Rings of the Abyss.] Oh yes, she decided, being dead sucked. Royally. "Don't I get to defend myself? Don't I have a say in this? We're talkin' about eternity! You can't mean to lock me away for that long!" Karian de Roe, still dressed in the red-leather huntress garb she had been wearing when she was slain, strained against the chains that bound her hands and feet. [We can, and we do.] She strained her eyes to see beyond the veil of darkness that separated her from the Council of the Circle. "This isn't right! You don't know anything, you sanctimonious bastards! I did what I had to do, and it got me murdered and sent to this damned place. It ain't my fault she knifed me in the back!" [Your murder and the circumstances under which you came here hold no bearing on your sentence, Karian. You were selfish and heartless in life; your own actions have brought this upon you. Now prepare to face the consequences of your choices.] Karian screamed as her flesh was torn to pieces and the whole world faded into nothing... * ....ughhnnhhhhhnnnnn.... {Why this one? Is there no one else?} ~You know damn well that she's it, Baal.~ {Still, why did it have to be her? She hasn't the skills or the discipline to take on a task like this!} "Skills or no, old man, she's the only one that can leave to do it. You know the rules, just like Belial and I." ....uuhmmmmmmm...?...... ~She's waking. You two stop arguing. We have a ritual to do.~ {I hate to waste such power and prestige on this creature...} "It may very well be a waste. I've never seen a soul that's been released from the coil survive this rite." .......mmmmmmmhmmmmmmm..... ~Ever the optimist, Mephistopheles.~ "Let's just get this over with." AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! * When Karian finally awoke, she found herself in an almost absurdly simple room. It was no longer than twice the length of her arms, and even less wide than that. The walls, floor, and ceiling were the color of slate stone, and shone dully in the pale light. She could not tell where the light was coming from; there were no candles or windows as far as she could see. Her eyes hurt to open, but they burned even worse when closed, so she continued to stare at her mundane surroundings. When she was sure both her eyes and her mind could take the shock, she looked down at her own body and bit back a scream. She was naked, which in itself was rather disturbing considering what she could remember of the Council, but that was not what made her want to scream. Her skin was pale as death and marked by large, jagged scars, which were even whiter. Her legs, her arms, torso, shoulders, and neck were covered in them. But what was worst of all was the gaping wound that seemed to smile up at her from between her breasts. Her mouth gaped in imitation of the hole in her chest. It was the length of her middle finger and as wide as the first joint of that finger. She stared at it in shock and horror. What the hell was going on? Curiosity mounted, and Karian was restless, staring at her body, the room, the scars, the wound... Gods, she wanted answers and quickly. This was worse than her initial damnation had been. "Of course it is, Karian. What did you expect the Abyss to be?" A very masculine, yet inhuman, voice in her ear startled her severely. "Bloody hell!" She stood up and spun on her heel to look the voice's owner in the face only to find herself in total darkness again. Laughter echoed all around her. She could see nothing, and her body wailed in protest of her movements. It took all her strength not to scream or fall or both. "Karian." The voice spoke her name again, but she could not guess where it came from. It was every where all at once. "Hurry, Karian. You have work to do." As the voice commanded her, Karian's body began to move obediently, despite the protest of her mind and the pain that flared inside of her with each step. "There isn't much time, Karian, and I have many things to show you... So very many things..." * ...Where is this place? (We're in the Abyss, Karian. Where you were locked away for the past few years.) ...Years? I've only been dead a few hours! (Time passes differently here. But there isn't time to explain everything. You've got a lot to do, Karian.) ...What do you mean? (You'll see.) ...Are all the spirits of the Abyss this g*ddamn vague? (Hold on, Karian. This is going to hurt like hell.) ------------------------------------------------------------------------- NEW POST Archive Note The original post was made by someone who was not registered. As a result the parser messed up when converting. Their post appears above, followed by the next available post here: peredhil31 An Ancient Polite Bard Posts: 951 (2/24/02 7:36:07 pm) Reply ezSupporter Porcelain! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Peredhil hugs Porcelain and points her to the Lists area, where there is a link to making a local Ezboard Account. You'll need an account in case the Elders accept you to the Pen. Welcome!

(Conversion Confusion, this is actually the third post in this thread) Peredhil comes in. Wishing he could make haiku. Leaves in sad defeat.

From "Knight or Knave" by Andre Norton and Sasha Miller "Though caution and common sense are certainly important, sometimes a risk is called for... If you laugh, you risk appearing a fool. If you weep, you risk appearing sentimental. Reaching out for another is risking involvement. Exposing feelings is risking revealing your true self. Placing your ideas, your dreams, before a crowd is risking rejection. Loving is risking not being loved in return. Living itself carries with it the risk of dying. Hoping is risking disappointment. Trying is risking failure. Nevertheless, risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard, pitfall, and danger in life is to risk nothing. If a person risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, that person becomes nothing. He may avoid present suffering and sorrow, but he will not learn, feel, change, grow, love, or live. Chained by his fear, he is a slave who has forfeited his freedom. Only that person who dares, who risks, is free. Peredhil closes the book, bows, and ponders what he's read.

(conversion confusion, this is actually the third post) Peredhil looks at Zool with a peculiar expression. Erm.. yes. Geriatric Ancient (It's not my fault and I'm retired) Peredhil the Polite

(conversion confusion, this is actually the first post) Like a diamond in the rough I fearfully conceal my beauty, I need you to be strong enough That I may gain my luster. Like an astronaut I keep running into asteroids, I need you to be my Mission Control And bring me back down to earth. Like a block of marble I’m just a smooth veined bust, I need your chiseling creative eye To give me a head.

Ever hear the Rolling Stone's Requiem for the Devil? Fun parody - I like it better than the original... -P

Peredhil drinks his enormous bottle of Mountain Dew and pities those addicted to Coffee... You summed it up methinks. Sleep: noun The inferior substitute for caffeine.

Peredhil laughs in delight! What a babe!

(Conversion confusion, this is actually the second post in this thread) hmmmm, you write well... But it's rather traditional not to mention names... A Polite Thing about the potential effect if current feelings ever change. Kinda burns bridges, ya know? Peredhil thinks about the number of times he had to learn the lesson about the difference between honesty and tact, and the pain he's caused over the years. Sometimes, time can heal enough that former enemies can become acquaintances or even friends...

Sometimes Manners conceal feelings we'd want to express, but that would not be best in the long run... Extremely well-done. poignant and aching. My 'read-aloud' test flowed smoothly, I didn't have to guess where the stresses and emphasises were to go. You really write some good stuff. Hugs

Oh! I LIKE this one! And you prolly think it applies to you. It's really about me! Nice of you to write it.