Peredhil

Cerulean Cerulean has been waiting for Scarlett to collect her all evening. Irritatingly, Harpy's phone appears to have been switched off, and there is a limit to how far one can stretch the term fashionably late. With this in mind, Cerulean decides to make her own way to the party. Mindful of her friend's advice, she has eschewed her usually over-formal attire, and wears a simple dress of midnight silk. The woman smiles inwardly as she contemplates the delights of the evening ahead, and hurries forward. Approaching the venue, she is surprised at the racket within. The building is literally pulsating. Nervously she double checks the address. Surely this can't be the right place? She clearly recalls the arrangements for this evening made earlier that day with Harpy. Nevertheless, she draws a deep breath and enters her quietly elegant soiree... Cerulean stands at the top of the staircase frozen mid-step. The thunderous throb of bass resonates through the hall. She sees a stage at the furthest end of the room outlined in cobalt blue neon. To the left, a rotating Casino spins and clacks with the whirr of roulette tables and eagerly slung poker chips. Tearing her gaze right, she sees a corridor leading off to a swimming pool of booze complete with white-knuckle rides. Multi-coloured strobes dance and flash lending a staccato surreality to the movements of the guests below. The lumbering approach of an ogre does little to reassure her - and as he leans in menacingly asking to see her 'gift' - Cerulean's mouth, highlighted momentarily by the dazzling lights, defines a perfectly shaped O. ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Seekers of Babylon - Scholars Division BG

Finnius OOC: I would like to point out that I did remember Cerulean's present. And what a gift it is! And now, for a little self-parody. BIC: Gyr-Wyvern, Brute-Wyvern, and the psuedo-mob are crowded around a table tossing dice. Presents are piled up to the ceiling, alchohol flows freely, but Cerulean still hasn't showed. In the corner, a furry four-legged dwarf and "Culex" are laughing and pointing at just about everything. The false-fur-covered, bluish-purple, having-trouble-walking-on-four-legs mage watches with interest. These creatures should not be allowed in the same room together. There is already a line going around the block of masked mages with boxes. Could things get any sillier? Oh yes. And they will. Soon. Very soon.

Tyrion OOC: Mindspawn, you rule! I like the miniature oil flask for indoor use too... IC: Tyrion, carefully disguised as gas tank, couldn't stop himself from hearing about newbies to flame. He then walks up to HolyChaos and says : "Newbies to flame? But I am right here! It's me, Gas Tank!" But right after that sentences, he runs away with an awkward look on his face. 10 minutes later, he comes back with a medium size box he puts with the others. ------------------ -Elite Warrior of the Superstars of Bowling (S.o.B.) (Blitz Guild) -FOoD member, trusted helper for lumpenproletariat (Beta)

Holy Chaos HolyChaos...er...Culex grinned, and said "cool! not all the guests have shown up yet, and we already have nekkid women" What we need now are some newbies to flame. Perhaps Kifif shall show. Whirling what looked like a crude copy of the infamous +12 ion sword, he walked over to where Glyrfalcon stood. "hey, when you figure out how to fly, pass me some hints. Dominons are supposed to fly around ya know" ------------------ - HolyChaos - Maro-Necromancer of Terra - Blessing be upon you, and may you live and die in peace - Proud MODERATOR of the Celtic Warrior boards HolyChaos@Hotmail.com Ascendant Guide Nether Guide

Tzimfemme and Rydia A group of four mages arrive at the party. The first one to approach is clad head to toe in an old-fashioned red robe and carries a kicking, protesting ("I give the orders around here!") burlap bag. It pulls back its hood to reveal blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and few distinguishing features. Only one psuedo-Wyvern recognizes his once-guildleader’s robes. . . The mysterious red mage upends the burlap bag. Out of the bag tumbles BelZpock, the Wise Man of Terra, clad only in bright red briefs with "Allt detta och hjärna därtill"* printed on the front. "I brought him to entertain us," smiles the false BZ, breaking the disguise with fangs. She glides over to Peredhil’s table and bows while Wyvern’s and Scarlett’s goon squad haul away the protesting entertainment. On that cue, the other half of Minta Rose zooms in, with a third blue eye stuck onto her forehead and blue dust scattered all over her body. She rips open another blueberry pixy stix and touches up her disguise, gobbling up the remaining sugar. "I’m Nimmy!" she shrills, bouncing from one foot to the other. Producing a cloth Nim doll from her pocket and hugging it goodbye, she drops it onto the pile of presents, then rockets around to all the Nimball players with a big grin. Rydia comes in next in a business suit and a kooky grin (with her hair still green and flipped upwards), with red-and-black-striped Carp strung around her neck. She lifts her familiar from around her neck and sets it free in midair. "Hi!" she smiles with an ultra-cheesy grin. I’m back and I’m loonier than ever! Say hello to everyone!" She holds up a laundry tablet, waiting until Carp notices it, then throws it into the party. With a growl of "Carp!", the pseudo-Killer Necktie pursues the treat. Pseudo-Birdman removes a sheaf of glossy photos and one Fury of God scroll from her suit pockets and puts them with the other gifts. Last of all is someone in a voluminous black robe, shuffling forward on her knees, poking her toes out from behind the robe. Also poking out from the robe are a skeletal tail, ear coverings, a pack of black markers, and a large cube of Post-It notes. She dashes one off and sticks it on the true Decanter, which goes onto the presents pile, then hastily scribbles another and presents it to Scarlett with a SQUEAK: "Can I strip too? All this clothing is killing me!" * "All this and brains too!" ------------------ Tzimfemme (the naked); "Deleting nothing between maiden and mage" Rydia adorned with pearls; Owner of the Anti-Spam Carp Minta Rose, sunshine and moonlight; Calculus for the Masses!, Server Guilded Proprietress of Happy Hentai Wholesale, Angels of Apocalypse, Ager Guilded Constant Reader and Moderator, General Assembly and Ager Guilded

Gyrfalcon Having spent a half-hour working on it, Gyrfalcon had finally gotten his balance under control, and was now walking aroud normally, though coordinating the wings and tail was making his pace slower then normal. "Ok, now all I have to do is figure out how to fly...." Gyr thought to himself before heading for the table where Finnius and Mindspawn were. Soon after that, Tyrion likewise joined the group, and the topic shifts to jokes, with Tyrion taking the lead in number and quality. As he prepared to give the punchline, a looming shadow fell over the group. "......" finised Tyrion. Wyvern explained the point the mages had forgotten, and several sets of eyes widened as the ogre impatiently shifted the club on his shoulder. Gyrfalcon, in a moment of brillance, drags out an object hidden beneath a wing. It looks quite a bit like the Decanter of Endless Booze. "Well, my costume won't be quite as complete without it, but..." Gyr places the Decanter on the presents pile accumulating by the box "It isn't the actual Decanter, but it *does* hold enough 'Ole Pecuilar to last through he night." the half-elf turned wyvern said. Gyr then turned back to Tyrion and said "Perhaps you could repeat the joke?"

Mindspawn Tyrion, or rather Mindspawn in disguise, leans closer to Wyvern and speaks in a quiet voice. "Ah, there you are Wyv... uh, I mean, Brute. I need some help with the present thing, since I unfortunately don't know Cerulean all that well. What do you think she would like most, a magnificent fire-works display, *taps a few of the miniature oil flasks gently*, or jewellery?" Wyvern's eyes widen slightly as he realizes that the star-shaped silver amulet resting in Tyrion/Mindspawn's hand, next to a matching Ring of Djinni Summoning, is in fact the legendary Chaos Ward... ------------------ Seekers of Babylon (SoB) - BG Order of the Lily Embraced by the darkness, breathing it in.

Wyvern OOC: I'm not sure about other wyverns, but personaly I walk on two legs Gyrfalcon... IC: Happy to see that Archmages are starting to show, Wyvern enters the party wearing a dark cloak. His claws have been colored a ghastly white, and he has a terrible looking rubber Brute mask over his face. The mask is very unconvincing as it barely fits on his visage... A few other mages greet him at the door. "Hey Wyvern!" "Huh?! How did you guess it was me?!" "It's kind of obvious... you're tail's sticking out the back. Lemme guess... you're supposed to be Knight right?" "No..." "Gyrfalcon?" "No..." "Arawn?" "No! I'm supposed to be Brute!" *Oooohhh...." The mages gathered around Wyvern look at each other and nod in semi-approval. They walk off laughing and joking about Wyverns attire. Wyvern sighs and heads off to greet the other guests... Gyrfalcon, Finnius, Tyrion and Mindspawn happily converse at a table located at the far end of the party. Tyrion is about to finish the punch-line of a joke he is telling, when suddenly the four mages are covered by a dark shadow. They look behind them to see Wyvern/Brute accompanied by an enormous ogre, which is casting the long shadow that covers them. The ogre bobs a huge club up and down in one hand. "Good evening gentlemen." Wyvern says smiling serenely "So glad to see you could make it... only I must inform you that you have forgotten one thing." Wyvern points to the party conduct parchment which has been posted on the wall and that reads: Admissions Fee: A present for the lady of honour, Cerulean. "You had best hand them over... before Buba here gets restless. Isn't that right Buba?" The enormous ogre grunts. ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.-BG Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Mindspawn Tyrion swaggers in through the double doors, wearing a marvellous crimson outfit in dragon-scale pattern. A broad leather belt around his waist, adorned with exquisite miniature oil flasks for indoor use, holds his robe together. For some reason, he is busily reading a small piece of parchment containing the incantation for the Inferno spell, moving his lips to form the unfamiliar words, while taking great care not to say them out loud. ------------------ Seekers of Babylon (SoB) - BG Order of the Lily Embraced by the darkness, breathing it in.

Scarlett O'Harpy Scarlett is still getting ready. She has been ensconced in her dressing room for several hours, and Rapture - her date -begins to drum his fingers impatiently. Surely other women don't take so long to prepare? There is a waxing noise, duetted by a heartfelt yelp. This is followed by the sound of filing. Harpy is evidently sharpening her teeth into neat little points. At long last she emerges from the mysterious depths of her boudoir. Twirling around for maximum effect, Harpy finally displays her revealing costume. Rapture opens his mouth, closes his mouth, opens his mouth, closes his mouth. This procedure repeats for several long minutes, whilst his former ability to speak scurries madly to catch up with his thoughts. "You're...you're...you're...NEKKID! Weren't you supposed to dress up as another Mage?" Scarlett grins wickedly. "I did, I'm Tzimfemme." Harpy links Rapture's arm, and the duo make their way over to Cerulean's place to transport her to the party. ------------------ Scarlett O'Harpy The two phases of fire are craving and satiety

Tyrion Tyrion enters the room desguised as no-one else but good ole gas tank (you heard me, gas tank) "Anyone want my technique for a high spell level? I just beat my record and reached 59 in 500 turns!" ------------------ -Elite Warrior of the Superstars of Bowling (S.o.B.) (Blitz Guild) -FOoD member, trusted helper for lumpenproletariat (Beta)

Finnius 'A wolf dressed as a dwarf, a polymorphed half-elf-wyvern, a rastafarian treeman, and several mobsters,' thinks Finnius. 'If this ain't the place, may God have mercy on my soul.' A blue skinned man with fur haphazardly glued to his face, arms, legs, and generally everywhere walks into the ballroom. He sits a large box in the corner, and adjusts the ears perched on his head. "What in the BLANKETY BLANK are you doing?!" growls an irate Canid/Hydrus. "You can't just come in here looking like me and not follow through! Get on all fours!" The now-bluish-purple fur covered mage sheepishly obliges. "And where's your tail?!"

Canid OOC: Don't wyverns have two legs?

Gyrfalcon Wyvern strides through the door... or more exactly, shuffles through the door. The creature looked around slightly, a forlorn expression on his face. Harpy immediently springs on Wyvern, asking the most important question "Did you bring the Decanter with you?" The Wyvern looked intent for a second, then responded. "I'm afraid you have the wrong Wyvern." "What do you mean the wrong Wyvern? You look like Wyvern, you sound like Wyvern, so did you bring the Decanter?" Harpy asked again. "This *is* a costume party, yes? Well I came costumed as Wyvern. Well, more exactly, I came polymorphed as a wyvern. Now I just need to find the real one... do you know how hard it is to coordinate four legs, a tail, and two wings?" The wyvern shuffled off, slowly learning how to move around as a wyvern, but trying to find the real one for some tips. OOC: So as to not have too many OOC: posts hanging around.... Matter of opinion. I've always visulized wyverns as mini-dragons, and dragons can either walk on their back legs (using wings and tail to balance) or go on all fours. As I haven't really had time to master my new form, I'm going around on all fours rather then try anything difficult like trying to stand with wings, a tail, and a new center of balance or trying to fly.

Peredhil A young lad dressed in white robes enters the hall. He is followed by a pair of the mighty Dominion of legend who close the doors to the hall. A faint whisper... "Guido, you wait here, Nuncio, you follow me" One stands at strict attention, whilst the other strides to the side of the boy. Most of the eyes in the room now seem transfixed upon these strangers in their midst. Seemingly unconscious of the wondering stares, the youth with the wise melancholy eyes takes a seat in the corner with his back to the wall. The mighty Dominion stands with arms crossed over his majestically muscled chest. A harsh whisper... Boss! Dees suits is hot when youse gots a fur coat underneath! The youth shoots a quelling glance to the Dominion. The other Dominion ambles over and stands on his other side. Shaking his head, the curious youth mutters quietly to himself You can put a Guinea Pig in a Dominion suit, but it's still a Pig ------------------ Elrond Peredhil, 31 Bard of Terra The Pen is Mightier than the Sword-BH Seekers of Babylon, Order of Scholars-BG A Polite Mage ~Searching for Quality, not Quantiy, in posting~ ~Member of Nekkid Mages #1 Fanclub and Worshippers~

Canid A four legged dwarf with a four foot orange mohawk trots into the room. The Mohawk is dripping with pigs fat. The dwarf has two sewn on arms, one of which has a battle ax glued onto it. The dwarf has a wolfs' tail for some reason.... (Canid is dressed up as Hydrus if you haven't already guesses.) "For the lady of honour!" He/She says as Hydrus' chest shoves forward holding a diamond studded jar of delicasies between two rows of teeth. "Raw dragon liver rolls, I tore them up with my own teeth." Says Hydrus' chest. The dwarf flops backward as the rear set of legs sits down. ------------------ A wolf is to be admired, for it is a symbol of all that is good, In this world you shall find none more loyal, kind and beautiful than a wolf, Be as the wolves! Canid Leader of Natures' Keepers

Holy Chaos HolyChaos backs out the door, and enter again in a few seconds dressed up as.....none other than Culex As he enters he hands Cerulean what seems like a stick of celery made of solid gold... ------------------ - HolyChaos - Maro-Necromancer of Terra - Blessing be upon you, and may you live and die in peace - Proud MODERATOR of the Celtic Warrior boards HolyChaos@Hotmail.com Ascendant Guide Nether Guide

Wyvern Hold it! HOLD IT!!! All mages stop in their exact positions, as if the entire party was a video and Wyvern had just pressed the pause button. Very well... (he takes out a small parchment) Ahem. Ceruleans un-birthday will be held in the following manner: -Eggs -Potatoes -Fruit Punch -Smut magasine ... Wait a minute, this is my grocery list! Sorry, wrong parchment... Wyvern takes out another parchment: Theme of Ceruleans Masquerade -As the title suggests, this is a costume party... but not just ANY costume party. All Archmages must come dressed up as another Archmage from the UBBs. Be creative. -A Casino, swimming pool of booze, and 'Tunnel of Love/Raging White Rapids' ride (combined into one) will be supplied at the party, so everyone is expected to show up. Food and drink will also be kindly provided by the moderaters of the Conservatory, or at least I hope... (I haven't asked them yet. ) -There is an admissions fee for the party: you must bring a gift for the lady of honour, Cerulean. And it better be expensive. --------------------------------------------- Right... Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get my 'Brute' outfit from the dry-cleaners... ------------------ Wyvern ...almost a dragon. Proud Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Diplomat and representitive of Succubi or Bust (S.o.-BG Unofficial member of the Mr. Bunny fan club. "GIVE ME A CARROT GODDAMMIT!" -Mr. Bunny

Woods, Crooner from Hell Woods shambles into the Banquet Hall for the last time in his long and inglorious carousing career. He's heard through the grapevine (Ents and grapevines speak approximately the same language) that Cerulean is hosting one of the funkiest parties the good people of Terra will ever have witnessed. The bad people of Terra will, naturally, be there as well... So why has the long-absent atonal ent decided to show his ugly face tonight? Two reasons will suffice. First, Cerulean is one of only three mages in the whole of Terra to have ever expressed an opinion on his singing that doesn't rhyme with 'clucking jacket'. For the record, the other two are Ardoveerin the Deaf and his son, Ardoveerin the Even Deafer. Secondly, Woods has wanted for some time to make one last comeback. His swansong if you like. Except for the fact that if a swan started singing like him it would have its neck wrung before it could reach the chorus. So he arrives, but incognito, disguised as a Rastafarian giant with huge green dreadlocks. This is to avoid any premature unpleasantness. Grabbing a flagon of Ol' Peculiar, Woods retires to a corner of the room and begins to write one last song...

Peredhil Peredhil walks strolls along, puzzled by the erotic perfume permeating the sidewalk air. Noticing a discarded notebook, he pauses and looks around. No owner is in sight. Attracted by the crimson ink and the smoldering fingerprints, he picks it up and reads. A quiet affair of the Lady Cerulean?! Tonight! A pained look crosses his face It IS tonight! Peredhil touched his Ring to his forehead for a moment. A sapphire flash and he opened his hand to reveal an envelope sealed with a blue wax embossed with a rose. On the front Elven Runes spelled Lady Cerulean Placing the envelope in the notebook, he spoke a Word. A pristine white dove hovered before him. Deliver this to Lady Cerulean at her party tonight. In an impatient beat of wings, the dove sped away. Sighing in regret, Peredhil continued to his next meeting. ------------------ Elrond Peredhil, 31 Bard of Terra The Pen is Mightier than the Sword-BH Seekers of Babylon, Order of Scholars-BG A Polite Mage ~Searching for Quality, not Quantiy, in posting~ ~Member of Nekkid Mages #1 Fanclub and Worshippers

Scarlett O'Harpy Harpy races out of earshot and emits a piercing scream. Still shuddering inwardly at concepts such as tasteful and classy, spoken in the same sentence as PARTY, her fingers are a blur of activity as she taps digits into her mobile phone... The line connects. Someone answers. Harpy breaks into a purr... "Wyyyyyvernnnn baby, Scarlett here, you gotta help me -- it's an emergency... Yes?...Cerulean's unbirthday...Party... TONIGHT!...Huge...Yes...Raucous...Absolutely...Everyone welcome? Of course...Oh that sounds fine...*Sniggers*...Won't she be surprised...Wonderful...Perfect...And you can get all this done today?...You're my hero! Don't forget the Decanter, Nymphs, sexy, sexy men, lights, music, oh and....plenty of action!" Relieved that the entire event is now in the extremely competent hands of the legendary party thrower himself; Scarlett begins to prepare herself for the wildest few nights Terra has ever known... Unnoticed, the discarded notebook flaps idly in the gutter. OOC Over to you now Wyv ------------------ Scarlett O'Harpy The two phases of fire are craving and satiety

Cerulean Harpy swings through the double-doors balancing a tower of shiny packages in one hand and a huge frosted birthday cake in the other. The cake is a none-too-subtle blend of preservatives and kitsch decoration - virtually indistinguishable from its bearer in fact...Almost coming to grief on the doors' backswing, Scarlett totters precariously on one stiletto heel, regains balance and greets her friend's arched eyebrow with a cheerful grin. "Couldn't forget a cake on your un-birthday", she rasps, basking in the glimmer of a Trisharillion* of flickering candles. "Here, blow them out and make a wish" Cerulean sighs and silently wishes that Harpy wouldn't turn up dressed quite so outrageously, for what was meant to be a quick organizational meeting to discuss the evening's celebrations. Harpy settles langorously onto the couch, smooths down her red leather outfit, and puts pencil to note-pad. "Okay honey, what's the grand plan?" Cerulean shifts a little uncomfortably on her chair, aware that her design of an elegant intimate soiree will be lost on Harpy, but proceeds with determination. "Well, small - definitely. Candle-light and cocktails, I was thinking a string quartet maybe, a select band of respected guests... Harpy's pencil scratches diligently over the notepad Surprised at Scarlett's unusual sang froid, Cerulean continues with mounting confidence: "You know the type of thing I like, understated, cerebral, ordered and well-managed. Nothing more than close friends helping me bear witness to the passage of another year..." She trails off as Harpy nods sagely and concludes her scribbling. "Right!" Smiling with rather too much display of teeth. Harpy stands, tilts her fingers in a parody of a friendly wave, and prepares to leave. She clutches her notebook rather tensely - but otherwise shows no outward sign of disapproving of her friend's wishes. "I'll collect you this evening, and (gazing at Cerulean's exquisitely tailored, yet rather conservative robes)...wear something pretty..." Scarlett exits in a cloud of perfume and an aura of one on a mission. Cerulean gazes with resignation upon the former cake, which is now little more than molten sugar with a candle-wax coating. *A very large number, nuff said. ------------------ Cerulean Dark Mistress of the Desert Guardian of the sacred stick of celery Seekers of Babylon - Scholars Division BG

Finnius Haiku: Prolific as spring's new growth, Memory 'till time ends.

And if you haven't searched on Finnius, you're robbing yourself. arch17.magewar.com/ubb/Fo...00137.html Spring day's twilight death Desultory reads...delight! Jewel graces board. Reply to Tzimfemme, same thread. Black Adder watcher?!? Nekkid Magess...sigh...supreme! Sweet Hentai Haiku. But Lord Finnius, A Nether Breaking Rhyme Schemes Defines Evil Haiku!

Marvelous thread, arch17.magewar.com/ubb/Fo...00118.html Dandelion seed- The Nimball blown to and fro. Insanity’s game. Gyrfalcon molting Feathers flying fracas mounts Nimball slips away Shining Ball, bounce high! Quivers at apogee...falls. Gravity wins again.