Patrick

"Life is not a mystery to solve, but a reality to experience." Frank Herbert - Dune

Seriously though...what's up with all these spammers/advertisers? Have some spambots found the Pen?

Buy cookies! Pictures of naked almost dragons! Free!

I fully agree with both points there, that is also how I saw the roles of GLs and Elders. About the AAA, since I don't lead it, apart from some poking, I can't do much, but that is part of the other discussion going on at the moment, anyway. Again, this would step out from the main subject of the thread, and is being discussed elsewhere, I won't go into detail here, but yes, I was referring to the guilds in their "forgotten corner". It's not really a good situation, neither for the guilds, whose image has suffered quite a bit lately, and neither for the members, who don't really get what the guilds can offer. I might not have been too clear, but I was actually making two points (or trying to ) One was, that I would like to see more critical feedback, because in my opinion we tend to highlight the positive much more than the negative (which isn't a bad thing), but I feel (and I'll stress that this is my opinion, though others might share it) that some more pointing out what was bad would be welcome. The other point I was trying to make (since I saw some recent examples) was some people's reactions to critical feedback. I saw in several cases, critical feedback (maybe the feedback mentioned a lot more the negative points of the work, but it was still feedback) being not appreciated, when the feedback level of the writer of the poem/story specified in the profile said that anything was game. Having good feedback rejected like this can make others hesitate giving critical feedback afterwards (I know of at least one example).

I think that those are still higher percentages than any other group of registered users. And frankly, I also think that the opinion of the membership is more interesting than that of its leaders. You can have the best leaders, but without sufficient backing its all useless. Now, as to what I would like to see from the Pen. As a guild leader: I'd like to see less emnity towards, and more activity in the guilds. It's easy to say that nothing is happening with the guilds, but if those who are guild members do not take part in them, then of course the guilds are going to be inactive and nothing will be happening there. As with what I said above, it's not only the leaders who should be taking part. As a member Sometimes I would like to see more critical feedback. I have the feeling that when replying to someone's works we usually do not mention the bad things we read, in fear of hurting the feelings of the one whose works we are commenting on. The Pen is a writing community and some do strive to get better, but with the "rather friendly, but not really critical" feedback, which I've seen more and more lately that isn't easy. This would also need people to actually accept feedback, which fits into what they describe in their profile feedback level, and not cry foul immediately if someone goes harsh on their works, or to update their feedback level accordingly to what they are ready to accept. more might follow, but I'd better get to work for now...

1 Heartfire 3E433, Merchant's Inn, Imperial City Yes, I did miss yesterday's entry, but having finally gotten to sleep around four in the morning, I was in no way capable of writing a diary entry. It is now almost midday, I have just woken up. Lunch in the form of boiled potatoes and boar meat lies on the table in front of me. The portion of boar meat alone cost me more than thirty gold pieces, but after the events of the prior day and the night I feel that I deserve it. The bottle of Tamika vintage 415 is also splendid. Definitely the best wine I have had so far. I had a really tireing day yesterday. First thing in the morning, I visited the crypt Agarmir's journal had mentioned. Sure enough, there he was, but unfortunately he had an accomplice. I was not one to be overcome so easily so after a short dialogue in which Agarmir boasted about having lured me inside his trap, I summoned a skeleton. Between its axe, and my spells, Agarmir and his companion fell. Not rapidly though, for it took almost fifteen spells from me to end the combat, and I bore some marks of it. Luckily I still had just enough magical energy to heal myself. Collecting the portions of bonemeal and Agarmir's muddy shovel, I went back to see Thoronir. He still pleaded innocent! I could not believe what my own ears were hearing! At least he gave me a ring, but he should have known that he could not buy me off so easily. I collected my reward from Jensine, and as she was quite happy afterwards, I managed to get the name of the corrupt Imperial captain out of her with just a little persuasion. I intended to talk to this guard captain to find out more about his methods, and the possibility of using them myself later. My inquiries though led me to Hieronymus Lex. That pompous captain, in his shiny armour had no intention of helping me though, his full attention devoted to the Gray Fox. I'm starting to hear so many rumours about this legendary thief, that I'm starting to believe them myself even. Captain Lex had directed me to another captain, whose name has already escaped me. He wanted me to get two people to testify against the corrupt captain. Seeing it as my best chance of finding him, I accepted. Not one of the three people concerned was willing to testify! Jensine outright refused and the two customers need a bit more working on. In a few day's time, I'll go back and work on them a bit more. After a brief stop for a few more potent spells at the Mystic Emporium (they have quite a selection, I'll have to go back at some point), I spent the rest of the afternoon making myself a bigger name in the Arena. For a brief part of the afternoon I was a bloodletter. I had quite liked rolling that name off my tongue, the sound of it pleased me, but by the end I had a new rank. I fought four or five battles, I can't exactly remember, since in one of them I even had to fight two opponents. This time I always allowed them to come in closer to be able to watch the expressions in their faces as I burned their flesh nice and crispy. A few hundred gold richer, I went to have my supper at the Merchant's Inn. Thoronir was there, drinking again. I couldn't believe how smug he looked there, having thinking that by simply donating his inventory to the temple, he had bought his redemption. He wasn't redeemed in my eyes. It was past midnight when he left, but even though I was quite tired, I followed him. I'll really have to get used to a different sleep schedule than the one I had in prison, otherwise all these late nighters will take a toll on me. I waited for five minutes after Thoronir entered his home before moving in close to the door to remain hidden while picking the lock. Since I only had one lockpick, I had to take my time with the lock, and Thoronir must have heard me while I entered, for he was waiting in his shop, an annoyed expression on his face. My burning touch caught him mid-sentence and he doubled over in pain. I of course had no qualms about burning his head next, which finished him. I took care going through all of his belongings both upstairs, where I had a majestic late night feast on the food, and in the basement, where finally I found the proof I had needed. A single portion of bonemeal it was, but in my eyes it was proof enough to Thoronir's complicity in Agarmir's crimes. As I was about to leave, a guard came in the front door, which I had forgotten to lock with Thoronir's key while searching. I do not know why he had come, but seeing Thoronir's prostrate body will have told him what had happened. I did not wait for him to draw his sword before casting my first spell. A few minutes later his body, stripped of all armour and insignia lay next to that of Thoronir. Suffering under the weight of all that heavy armour I took special care of locking the shop from the outside. The Copious Coinpurse shall now be closed indefinitely. To my horror, just as I was about to enter the Merchant's Inn, a guard stopped me, and told me there was a fourty gold bounty on my head. Fourty seemed very few for paying for a double murder, so I paid it all, and since I had no stolen items with me at the time the incident passed without further problems. It was nigh four in the morning when I finally got to sleep, but it was not the restless sleep I had hoped for. Just an hour after I had fallen asleep, a black robed man, his name Lucien Lachance woke me with a thoroughly interesting proposal. I'll have to write about it in this night's journal entry though, as it's nearly two in the afternoon now, and I do have some business to take care of. OOC: The 40 gold bounty and the guard interfering in Thoronir's house were I'm pretty sure from Thoronir shouting assault, since it seems the right amount for that. Since no one saw the killings, there was no bounty for that. Made level 7 (+3 intelligence, +2 willpower, +3 speed).

30 Last Seed, Merchant's Inn, Imperial City I actually slept in until midday today. Staying up so late last night definitely threw off the sleeping schedule I had gotten used to in the prison, where every day at nine in the evening, the torches were quenched and there was nothign left to do except sleep. Oh and of course listen to the ramblings of that jerk in the cell on the other side of the corridor. I preferred sleep. By far. I had a light breakfast. Or should it be called lunch at that hour? Anyway, once I had eaten, I made my way to the Tlalos Plaza district. In the daytime the statue of the dragon sure looked terrifying. I'm happy that none of them exist in our day, for they are nigh unbeatable creatures. To my dismay, from the sounds of messy eating inside, I gathered that Agarmir was home. I had to do something to pass time, and I wasn't going to just wait outside of his house. I wandered around the district, and found myself once again in front of the dragon. After picking the few mushrooms at the base of the statue, I went into Umbacano manor. I had met a manor guard the previous day in the Market District, who had spoken of valuable artifacts in Umbacano's collection, and I just wanted to check out the manor. As soon as I entered the butler accosted me, and told me that his lord was an avid collector of Ayleid artifacts. I tried lying that I had one, but even when I said that I'd only show it to Lord Umbacano the butler did not let me do so. The pompous fool told me that he was able to determine what was worth showing to his master himself. I long for the day when I can get past him, after showing him a true treasure. Agarmir was still home, so I went into the Tiber Septim hotel. The price of a room here was exorbitant, so I went upstairs to check what could possibly make the price so high. I was unable to enter into any of the rooms, but there was a lot of unguarded food in the dining room, along with several good bottles of wine, which I promptly took. In the light of future events, it was lucky that I mixed all of the food (and ate three strawberries) right there. I sold the thus created potions back to the not-suspecting receptionist for the hefty sum of six hundred gold. You might not be able to sell stolen items in this city, but potions made of stolen ingredients are easy to pass on. Agarmir was still at home, to my ever increasing annoyance. I was already starting to feel fatigue, and knew that I wasn't going to be able to pull another late-nighter. I walked round the district, talking with guards and townsfolk, showing my face, so that they got to know me. Being known is the first step towards being trusted, and I wanted to be trusted in case I had to defend myself against accusations of crime. As I passed by Agarmir's house once again, I almost bumped into him as he came out. After we shouted curses at each other for several minutes he finally walked off. I waited for the coast to clear and then set to picking the lock on his home. I wasted almost thirty friggin lockpicks on that stupid lock! My skill is nowhere near sufficient for this type of work. I'll have to look into some serious training. Quite possibly from the Thieve's Guild. I literally trashed the place while looking for clues, throwing bowls, books and cutlery all over the place. Agarmir shall surely have a few hours of cleaning up and putting things back on the shelves when he next comes home. Then, just as I was going to try my luck on his basement door, a guard entered his home! I had messed up! He had seen me picking the lock, which when I think back isn't surprising given the number of curses I had given off after my failed attempts. Luckily I only had to pay a five gold bounty. One thing was for sure. I wasn't going back into prison this soon...Unfortunately all of the fine bottles of wine I had looted from the Tiber Septim Hotel were confiscated by the guard, along with a few books I had taken from Agarmir's home. After those formalities were settled, I headed back to Agarmir's house. To my relief he had not come home while I had that unfortunate episode. I was still faced with the challenge of unlocking the door to his basement. I had nearly had to give up, but with my last lockpick, I pushed the last tumbler into place and the door clicked open. Surprise would be a mild word to describe what I felt upon seeing what was down there. So Agarmir was not only a thief, but a grave robber? I promptly collected every single portion of bonemeal in there, for I knew it was a potent alchemical ingredient. My suspicions were confirmed when I read the book Agarmir had so foolishly left out on the desk. It was now time to pay another visit to Thoronir. I caught him just as he was closing his shop for the night. I pushed him hard, with the firm evidence in my hands. Thoronir faked innocence, but I suspect he was not innocent in the matter. In the least, his crime was not asking Agarmir about the origin of the merchandise. I have nothing against thievery, but disturbing the deserved rest of the dead is something I do not condone. I have the firm intention of confronting Agarmir, if needed even inside the latest grave noted inside the book. Agarmir has to die, and so does Thoronir for his complicity in these foul acts. OOC: made level 6 (+5 intelligence, +2 speed, +2 personality)

I'm sure there are quite a few around. For example, I wouldn't mind brushing up a bit on my rusty D&D skills, seeing that I haven't found a playing group here in France yet... As for my own feedback. It'll come a bit later, when I've had a bit more time to think.

OOC: the previous chapter's ending has been modified, so if you've already read it, be sure to check again.

29 Last Seed 3E433, Merchant's Inn, Imperial City Well, technically it's already the 30th of the month, since my following Thoronir and his accomplice lasted long into the night, but I am still to go to sleep. But first things first. In the morning, I went to see Thoronir, who was taking away business from all of the shops in the district (which I couldn't let happen, because certain shops I wanted to see prosper). His shop was a disordered mess, and no wonder he was taking away business from everyone. I took advantage of his cheap prices and bought some food, but then interrogated him about his "business practices". The wily bastard he is, he didn't tell me anything. I decided to follow him, check on what he does once he closes his shop. For a moment I had contemplated staying outside the shop until he closed, but threw away the idea due to its sheer boringness. I spent the rest of the morning mixing potions in my room in the Merchant's Inn. I'm starting to get quite fond of the room. The bed is nice and soft, and sometimes I even get food delivered on the table. The innkeep now greets me as one of his best customers and serves me my usual potatoes and ham each night for supper without me even needing to ask. He's a really pleasant fellow, and knows how to please a customer, and please his own coinpurse in the process. But I don't mind. Money had never been an issue for me. Whenever I ran short, I resorted to actually doing some work, or in dire need to thievery, at which I must admit I never was too good. But with the training that blond-haired woman has been giving me almost daily (in exchange of a considerable sum I must say) in the Market District, I'm slowly, but surely getting better. I've heard rumours of the Thieve's Guild and I might investigate their truthfullness later. It's not that mixing potions is a bad way of making money, but it is quite tireing. The feeling of accomplishment when succesfully creating a potion is also tarnished by the smell the process usually gives off. I also heard rumours of a certain Dark Brotherhood. They say that if you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood will come to you in your sleep. I'm not sure whether I like that method of recruitment, but should I happen to murder someone, I'm pretty sure I'll find out more about them. After a satisfying lunch, and with an apple in my hand, I made my way over to the Arena. I had originally intended to only watch a match, but a certain fire ignited inside of me and I found myself down in the Bloodworks. The so-called Gray Prince, a filthy orc, whose skin for once isn't that disgusting shade of green, but a sickly gray hailed me down, and before I could escape him, he gave me the mission to find something out about his heritage. I hope that whatever I find shall be negative for him. The fool even gave me a key. Little does he know that I plan to loot the whole place to which he had given me the key. Angered by my conversation I accepted the fight proposed to me by the blue team's leader. His name I have already forgotten. Luckily my anger dissipated before the fight, for my opponent was a considerable one. The usual number of ice blasts did not suffice in taking him down, and it took a considerable time of running round and blasting away at him, before he finally perished. The crowd had loved it though. Their cries of joy and the applause rang throughout the Bloodworks. I must admit, I'm starting to like the glory offered by these fights. For being someone who is well known does have certain advantages to it. I was exhausted when I returned to the Merchant's Inn and knew that if I wanted to follow Thoronir after his shop closed it might last well into the night. I slept for four hours and was lucky to wake up just five minutes before the supposed closing time of his shop. Of course, and to my great annoyance, I had to wait half an hour until Thoronir actually came out. I followed him quite openly, as someone going about his normal business, as he went into the Merchant's Inn. That man has some serious alcohol problems! For two hours straight, he didn't stop drinking! While I waited to see whether anything interesting was going to happen I practiced summoning skeletons in the corner, where no one bothered me, and I didn't bother anyone. Finally, around 11 pm, Thoronir stood up. To my astonishment he was still able to walk. And not only walk, but there was no effect of the alcohol on him. That man has some serious resistance to the stuff! After walking round the Market District and checking several times whether anyone was following him, Thoronir met a man he called Agarmir. I watched their exchange crouching in the bushes. While Thoronir buying from this man would have been completely acceptable, their exchange left a lot of question marks. I decided to follow Agarmir. He was much more careful than the blundering Thoronir and more than once he nearly spotted me, flitting from shadow to shadow. I'll have to work on my stealth skills if I am to tail others like this, for now they are close to non-existant. In the end I tracked Agarmir to a house in the Plaza district. I'll have to take a look once he isn't there, but right now I'm dead tired, and need sleep. OOC: made level 3 (+5 personality, +4 intelligence, +3 speed), level 4 (+5 intelligence, +2 speed, +2 personality), level 5 (+4 intelligence, +3 personality, +3 agility) made Journeyman in Conjuration, made Apprentice in Speechcraft. (an eventful day skill-wise)

And a happy birthday from me too! Hope it is (was) great.

Activity closed. Pity there wasn't more participation...

I know that, but the character doesn't.

28 Last Seed 3E433, Merchant's Inn, Imperial City What an eventful day today. When I woke up, I found that counting the three bottles of ale and the supper I had had the night before, along with the room, I was left with only 8 measly gold pieces. A loaf of bread and three apples later I was all out of gold, but at least my hunger was satisfied. Oh how I loved this great food after the crap they gave us in the prison. I needed to get money and fast, if I wanted a place to stay in the coming days. Outside the Merchant's Inn, I spotted a big poster calling attention to the Arena. I had never been much of a gambler myself, and besides with no money that wouldn't have been easy, but trying my luck as a fighter seemed like a risk free occasion of making money. For how could I be in danger if I blasted my opponents to crispy bits before they could even reach me? Sure enough the first two fights happened as I had predicted and I was suddenly 100 gold pieces richer. My confidence boosted by these two victories, I made the almost fatal mistake of taking another fight. My next opponent was a blasted archer, and shooting away at me from a distance, nearly always managed to dodge my spells! I conjured up a skeleton, and luckily it managed to distract that confounded bow-wielder long enough for me to be able to get two ice blasts in and finish him off. Before moving down in the tunnel, I painfully pulled the arrows out of my body and healed my wounds, but I fear there shall remain at least one scar to teach me my lesson. Archers, just after the beggars and the foul-skinned orcs, are my most hated species. 200 gold richer after my trip to the arena, I had a short walk in the center of the Imperial City. I had just planned to think about my next course of action, but to my surprise, I managed to pick up more than 60 portions of Fly Amanita Caps in there. I also sweet talked some guards, for in the future, I shall quite probably need some of them who sympathise with me. I stopped in again at the Main Ingredient, where I bought quite a few cheap ingredients from Ogier, whom has already started calling me by name. This seems like the start of good future economic relations. I mixed a part of the ingredients together and then to my surprise managed to sell the potions for more than the combined price of the ingredients in the Gilded Carafe. Suites that bitch well to pay me that much. I bought ingredients from her too, mixed the potions in her shop even and then sold them back to her. She didn't realise a thing. With my newfound gold I bought myself food for supper in the Food Bag. I decided not to get any mead for I wanted a clear head when confronting Thoronir tomorrow. Just outside the Merchant's Inn, where I am now writing this entry, I met someone who offered Security training. Who knows it might come in handy later, so I had five training sessions with her, and spent most of my hard earned gold in the process. Oh well, I can always make some gold off of the Gilded Carafe owner by mixing potions in the future. OOC: Notable events of the day: made level 2 (+5 agility, +5 speed, +4 intelligence), made Journeyman in Alchemy.

The replies to get insane (probably not the only possibility): Internet Explorer Canada Mass-murderers Little hamster in my head Canada The job of evilness What is this music you speak of? People Movies of Evil How evil I am

A mugshot taken of our hero, just outside the Imperial City, looking ready for a fight:

"Hah! Another bidder! Truly this beautiful beach...I mean mountain is worth more than that!" OOC: 40 geld.

27 Last Seed 3E433 Dear diary, This is the last time I'm ever going to call you that, since I feel that it is a much overused cliché. The only reason I still call you that once is to satisfy whomever happens to read this diary, which shall only happen once I die, since I will not leave this diary anywhere. I don't want my private thoughts, confessions about future crimes to be read by anyone, do I? Anyway...time to get down to writing. Through some stroke of incredible luck, I escaped the prison I had been rotting in for murdering that pestering beggar. I still can't understand why they had convicted me for that. I mean, anyone who was pestered day and night by that annoying woman, would have eventually snapped. It had been a simple fireball, but unluckily for me, a guard caught me in the act, and I ended up in prison. And all through the seven months I spent there, that bastardly son of a whore dunmer in the cell over the corridor didn't stop teasing me. I swear that one day I shall come back through the filth in the sewers I had to wade through to escape and kill him. Seriously...those sewers I had to trudge through were awefully disgusting. They were full of rat droppings and bones thrown away by those annoying goblins. I took great pleasure in burning both the rats and the goblins nice and crispy. At least it took away some of the foul smell in that place. Oh yeah, I just remembered. I also met the Emperor and some of his guards. They seemed to be fleeing from some sort of assassins. Serves them well for having thrown me into the prison in the first place. I had hoped that the Emperor would be killed by the assassins and to my pleasure my hopes were fulfilled right in front of my eyes. The killer struck the Emperor down, sending his blood flying through the room, but then before I could congratulate him, he turned on me! I had no choice but to burn him too! Before he gave his last breath, the Emperor gave me some petty trinket that he had thought important. I tried using it, but to my dismay the amulet did not want to remain around my neck. Frustrated, I wanted to drop it, but through some magic could not. I guess the only way to get rid of it is to deliver it to that guy the guard had mentioned...his name I've already forgotten, as I thought it unimportant at the time. I do recall something about Weynon Priory though. I had wanted to kill the only remaining guard, Baurus his name, but his sword looked pretty sharp, and I preferred keeping my magic powers for the way out. As mentioned, I had to go through the stinking sewers to come out. I don't know what else other than the rats were in there, but the smell was awful. I threw up several times on the way out, once over a goblin, who I must say did not appreciate it. He's dead though. I found several interesting items on my way out. In the caves, even before reaching the sewers there were several species of mushrooms, and I even managed to lay my hands on a mortar and pestle. At long last I can practice my passion for alchemy yet again. I had completed my collection of alchemist items in the Main Ingredient in the Market District. A really pleasant shop, much better than the Gilded Carafe, run by that opressive woman. Even though I've only seen her once, I already hate that voice of hers, telling me that she has everything for the budding alchemist. I'm pretty sure I can make better potions than her, so she can stop calling me budding. Maybe one day I'll make a potion, or should I say poison, for her. One she can enjoy for the rest of her spasming life. The shopkeeper of the Main Ingredient spoke to me about a certain Thoronir, a bastard who was taking business away from him. I'll have to look into this matter. A green-skinned orc, may his kind perish painfully, spoke to me about some corrupt officials also. I'll have to look into helping them. The officials I mean. Extorting money from certain shopkeepers would certainly come in handy, since upon coming out of prison I only had the handful of gold coins I had managed to scavenge off the bodies of the goblins. Another beggar, filthy creatures as they are, tried asking me for a coin. Luckily, since there was a guard just a dozen feet away, I managed to restrain myself, and apart from spitting an insult back at him I didn't react. And now it is time to lay to rest. The inn cost almost a fortune, and hurt my purse a lot, but oh does this bed feel good after that uncomfortable straw mattress in the prison.

OOC:Following in the stead of others, who had written diaries or stories of their adventures with other games, I've decided to write mine, diary style of Oblivion. So without further ado: I present to you the adventures of Plaxica, evil breton mage. Since this is an evil character, the story might in the future be moved to the Scarlett Pen. And of course, spoilers abound. This will also be roleplayed, so expect every night being spent in a bed, no keeping awake for a week.

Ahhh...to be able to simply lie down and relax, away from all concerns in this world, and enjoy the sunshine and the pleasant smell of waves crashing against the surf. - those were Patrick's thoughts as he made his way to the auction, and he was greatly surprised to see the description nailed onto the wall next to the auction stand. "Oh well, I can still lie down and relax. And the skiing should be fun. And hiking under the trees...hiking...I've been looking forward to that." OOC: I bid 20 geld.

Took me a few tries to get it, but since no one's actually gotten it yet here... (btw that isn't the real me )

It was after the fifth round of ale went round the table, that Cain, the dwarf realised what he had already realised the previous dozens of times they played this game. He simply sucked at it. Between the elf who could read his mind to find out what cards he had and the catman, who could determine from the scent he gave off whether he was bluffing or not, the odds were well against him. It nearly always came down to a match between Talia, Hrrrriska and the elf. Carandil was his name and he was the most recent member of the party, having joined a mere seven years ago. He had been a cast-out among his own people and it was more out of pity than necessity that Cain had suggested they take him with them. His abilities and magic proved most useful in the tightest of situations though, and he quickly became a valued member of the group. However, had Cain known of the elf's luck in cards, or more accurately, cheating, he might have suggested otherwise. Every other night he lost more than ten gold to his companion, who in turn paid for his ale, all in friendship. The stereotypic change in air was well present when the inn door slammed open, and in stepped a member of the city guard. The adventurers looked up and immediately dismissed the figure. He wasn't anything like the customary old sages, or half crazy lunatics who gave them missions in such taverns. Sure enough, the guard had not come to see them. His mission lay elsewhere, as it seemed that the barkeep's less than beautiful daughter was his love interest. The adventurers interest quickly died down, as none of them was interested in watching the young guard kissing his girlfriend. As the night dragged on, jokes became dirtier, and the regulars paid less and less attention to the adventurers, as their minds began to be clouded by the smoke and alcohol vapours they inhaled and the liquid courage they ingested. Surprisingly, or perhaps even because of the adventurers, there were no fights in the inn that night, for the first time in more than four months. Dawn arrived and the adventurers were still playing their game. What eventually started the long chain of events that led to their deaths started at the unholy hour of 5 in the morning, when normal people would have already been asleep. Indeed many of the locals and regulars had drifted into a deep sleep in their seats, and even the inkeep was dozing off, leaning on his counter. His daughter had long disappeared with her lover, to a place where they could do whatever they did in private. The woman entering the inn was not the usual employer, but she immediately piqued their interest, and Talia nudged Heff, the halfling awake as soon as she appeared. She seemed as out of place here, as did Hrrrriska himself, her rich clothes and dark skin speaking already volumes about her noble upbringing and origins. Rich golden embroidery decorated her deep green robe, and a pearl adorned her silver necklace. She was definitely way out of her depth, but luckily for her most of the shady regulars were already well past their tolerance for alcohol.

Adventures like this always started in an inn. The inn, where our heroes presently found themselves was a dark and shabby establishment, nowhere near the fame of its luxurious counterparts in the rich suburbs of the city. Dimly lit tables were closely shoved together, most of them fully occupied by the filth of the slums, busy taking their daily dose of liquor, or losing their daily earnings at cards. Spillt beer and rotting chunks of food inside the cracks in the floorboards were evidence to the neglect to cleaning. The inn was as badly worn down as its patrons. No one complained of this strange union. The innkeep was happy to have the profits flowing in, as well as having quite a few well-muscled men around at all times, who easily kept the law enforcement away. And the patrons were happy to find a place where they were accepted and could drink the sorrows of their lives away. One of the tables where there was still an empty chair was occupied by a most strange company. Of the five sitting around the once round table, only one looked human, the others each had definite characteristics, which distinguished them as not belonging here. Non-humans were not unheard of in the city, but they were definitely rare, and to see four of them so close together was definitely a rarity. Most of the patrons had already seen a dwarf, an elf or one of the undergrown halflings before, but never had they seen or heard of the fifth character who sat at the table, his furry tail sprawled out behind him. Only once had a regular made the mistake of treading on the tail earlier in the evening, and he had nearly paid for it with his life. Catmen were of course not creatures suddenly sprang alive from distant folk tales and legends, their existence was well-based in history, and those well-versed in a particularly bloody chapter of history known and distorted in popular legend as the cat wars, were perfectly capable of the ferocity and viciousness of these creatures. Persecution and the threat of extinction had however curbed back these instincts and those specimens which had survived the millenia came from more peaceful bloodlines and hid their animalistic instincts under a civilized veil, fitting into the society around them. It was common to find them in the distant southern lands, but never before had one been seen so far north, sparking much gossiping inside the tavern. Feline ears easily picked up the gossip, but harmless words did not bring any reaction from the furred figure. The catman did not carry any apparent weapons other than his claws, but it was a taste of these that the patron unfortunate enough to trod on his tail had discovered, almost losing an eye in the process. Violence was no stranger to the tavern, but it had been several weeks since such a violent outburst had been seen, and after it, even the regulars stayed away from the table. "It's yourrrr turrrrn to play, my elven friend," the feline almost growled over the table. Despite the tone being used, the five of them were steadfast friends, their friendship forged together by the many hardships faced together. "Patience, Hrrrriska. It is a virtue, and cats normally have it, able to wait hours for a bird to make a wrong move. I never understood how when you cross a human with a cat, this virtue is so irrevocably lost," the human interjected in a soft, silken voice, identifying the person behind the voice and under the hood as a female. "We are not a cross between-" the catman started replying but was cut off by the elf. His voice was like honey, able to charm almost anyone into doing what he wished them to do, if its power was unleashed. "Hrrrriska! Talia! Enough of that. We have a game to play-" "Aye! And I'm fresh out of ale! Sweet maid'n of the golden tap of ale!" the sweet maiden referred to was the barkeep's daughter, a girl in her twenties, who had been somewhere amongst the last in line when the gods were handing out beauty and intelligence. "Fill up the flagons!" "And bring some food!" the halfling shouted afterwards, ever eager to satisfy his unsatiable hunger. All in all, it was a pretty typical party of adventurers, in a typical setting for receiving adventure. An adventure which was not far away from reaching them...

It was a sad day when Robby the rhino, my favourite plush toy was sepulchred. He had lasted for almost a decade but when the boom-a-rang had hit him, it had easily ripped his fluffy head off of his torso. I had dug the hole myself, inside our garden, in shallow earth. His tiny plush hands were still gripping the lightning rod, with which we had defeated so many enemies in our imaginary adventures, when I pushed the last pile of dirt to cover him. Next words: hypothetical ravage subsurface knight

Quite a mysterious story/start to a story, Xaious. I'm not saying that it needs more written after it, as it can easily stand as a whole as it is, it just got me pondering several different possibilities at the end, and that's a feeling I like to have at the end of a story. A lot of things are left unsaid in the story, but I think it suits the style well. If there will be a continuation to this, I'll be happy to read it, if not then I'm content to say to have enjoyed it.