Patrick

From the moment this man stepped on board the ship I knew that he was a gambler just by his looks. Although the ferry journey between England and Ireland does not take long, the casino on board shall long remember him. In the first twenty minutes he won nearly five thousand pounds, playing poker. “A glass of water please!” – he asked after winning a particularly large bet. “I’m sorry sir, but we don’t serve water at the bar. If you want water you’ll have to go to the other bar at the other end of the ship.” The man, who was very polite, and I just noticed had a moon shaped scar on his right wrist looked at me with a puzzled face. “You don’t have water? Well, well. I’ll give you one hundred pounds if you go to the other bar and bring me water.” That was a lot of money. I decided to go and get him his water. I just wondered why he had sat at the bar labelled “alcoholic drinks only” if he wanted to drink water. “Here’s your water sir.” “Thank you, my lad. Why the little flag inside the slice of lemon?” “It’s a custom of this bar. With every drink we give a flag with our company logo.” “I see. Here’s your one hundred pounds.” He handed me the money and then proceeded to win twelve thousand more before we reached Ireland.

It was indeed Phnom Penh. I've been found! :woot: :woot:

Patham, still wet from his experience at the diving/fishing stand and with an oyster shell in his hand walks up to see what Sweetcherrie is doing. "Stories for kids and finger painting? I'm not sure that I'm the person for..." - then he saw Sweetcherrie's stare. "Oh allright, I'll take part." - he said with a broad smile on his face. OOC: that is a signup for both activities.

How did I get here? What is this place where people speak a strange language I don’t understand. Right now I’m in front of some sort of palace where three rivers meet. The people stare at me as if I were an alien. They can probably see from my eyes that I’m different. Theirs are just slits compared to mine. Passing a genocide museum, I remember the terror of the K (smudge) R (smudge). As I buy some noodles in a sidewalk shop (with my last remaining US dollars) I marvel at the beauties of the city. Not far away I can see a pagoda, which is of a silver color. A small hill crowned by a pagoda marks the founding place of the city. There are elephant rides available, but I don’t have any more money. Soon I am going to run out of edible food…someone help me please! Oh yes the elephants are clearly of the Asian variety, I can tell by their size. I am lucky to see a spectacle performed, which I recognise as apsara dancing. Hopefully whoever reads this message shall know where to find me.

Patham had listened with interest to the yellow-toothed carnie’s offer. He had never fished before, and wasn’t particularly interested by it. A friend of his had been a passionate fisher, and was capable of waiting for hours before a fish caught the bait, but Patham knew he would not have the patience for that. He was among those, who had started walking off after the announcement of the fishing, but when he heard about the treasure diving he knew, that he had to take part. He was among the first to ask for a diving suit, but waited to see how others fared with the fishing and diving first. Then he decided that it was his time to go for a dive. The suit did not fit perfectly; it was much too large around Patham’s waist. “This suit is too big.” – he shouted at the carnie. “You told me your size, and that suit is of that size.” “Well then clearly you and I have a very different notion of sizes.” – he could see however that the carnie wasn’t going to do anything about it. – “Would you have a smaller size?” “Sorry, only one suit per person.” Annoyed Patham decided to let the problem go unsolved. Besides the discomfort, what could a not perfectly fitting diving suit do to you anyway? He found out two minutes later, when he reached the deeper regions of the water and felt the cold water against his stomach. The water had simply passed between the large waist part of the diving suit and his stomach and in this way the diving suit did not protect him from the cold. I’m not going back without anything. Even with faulty equipment I shall be able to find something! – he vowed. He saw fish of all shapes, sizes and colours swim around him. As he dodged the fishing lines in this area of the water, he suddenly felt something moving against his stomach. Something scaly and slimy. Starting to panic, Patham tried throwing off the diving suit, but had forgotten about the oxygen can. He managed to get out of the suit, but unfortunately also threw off the can of air with it. The weight of the can, as he held on to the breathing piece started pulling him downwards, towards the bottom. Patham tried frantically untangling the can from the suit and managed to do so eventually, putting the can back over his naked back. The fish had all moved away when Patham had started frantically moving. However, he was already at the bottom of the water, and somehow he was starting to feel strange. His ears were ringing and he felt his head throbbing. As he felt consciousness slipping away he gripped at the bottom and found something. He came to fifteen minutes later, floating ten feet underwater, with a half-rotten boot in his hand. He kicked himself up towards the surface, and getting there realised that he had a long swim ahead of him to get back to the shore. “Where is the diving suit?” – the carnie demanded when he took the can of air back. “It was too big and slipped off.” – replied Patham. – “If you’re lucky someone shall find it later today while diving.” Patham turned and made ready to leave. “Oh, I found this shoe while diving.” It was only then that Patham spotted the small oyster shell inside the shoe, inside of which he would later find, was a small, white pearl. He took the oyster shell, to remind himself of his adventure, and handed the shoe to the carnie.

“What has happened? Celenia?” – Julak asked again. “…is here.” – she tried to say, but clearly she was totally out of breath. “What? Who is here?” – alarm had started creeping into Julak’s normally calm voice. “The hunter is here.” The statement acted as a bolt of lighting, striking Julak numb with shock. For several long moments he was silent. “All has been in vain then…” “All is only in vain, if you yourself lose hope Julak. You have told me of your mission, and you simply can not lose hope.” “He sent Urgbul?” “Yes. Urgbul is the one, who hunts us. I met him in the tavern. He was asking for information about you.” – Celenia was seemingly regaining her strength. “I am no match to Urgbul. If he finds us, all is over, and I shall have failed in my mission.” “Then you must not let him find you.” “Unfortunately Urgbul has an uncanny ability in finding people.” “I know.” – she whispered. – “He caught my brother when he tried to escape. I was forced to watch while they tortured and killed him. His screams of agony, and his painful face shall forever be etched into my brain.” “I’m sorry.” – Julak said. And he meant it. Despite having saved Celenia’s life and having been with her for more than a dozen years he had never learnt much about the small fairy. Although she could do little to help him with his mission apart from gathering information for him, she did that with such a devotion that it surprised even Julak. When he had asked her why she did it, Celenia said that she had a debt to repay. Although love between them would be something extremely unusual, a very close friendship grew between them, and Julak found that he could tell Celenia things, he had not even talked to himself about before. In a certain way Celenia became Julak’s companion in his times of need, helping him through the crisis’s he faced. “We have to get out of town, if Urgbul is here. Do you know where he went?” “No, I was blown away by the wind.” “Are you okay?” “ I'm just tired, because of my hurried flight. I’m okay.” – she lied.

“Celenia. What are you doing here?” “Julak. I’m so lucky to have found you.” “What happened?” – concern was in Julak’s voice. He saw Celenia’s lips moving, but did not understand what she was saying, as he was swept up in his memories. ~Several years ago~ “Help…” – the voice was weak, and Julak had nearly not heard it. He turned and looked for the source of the voice. About five feet away, chained to the cavern wall, by the smallest chains he had ever seen he spotted a small creature, barely two inches tall. The creature was chained to a candle, which in a few minutes time would burn down and burn it alive. “I don’t have time, little one.” “Please…” There was something in the voice, it’s pleading quality that made Julak change his mind. He knew if he left the creature chained up that he would forever regret it, and his conscience would never let him rest. Walking the five feet distance, he reached the wall and easily snapped the chains. “You are Julak, right?” “My name has no importance here.” – Julak replied. “I thank you for what you have done. In return let me warn you. What you are preparing to do, no one has ever succeeded in doing. Why would you be the first to not fail?” “You know nothing about me little one.” “Celenia is my name.” “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to chat. Time is something, of which I wish I would have more.” He turned and started walking away. “Would you take me with you?” Julak turned back, a strange light glimmering in his eyes. “Isn’t it enough if I fail on my own? Do you want me to be responsible for your death too?” “I have heard others in here talk about you. You wouldn’t try if there weren’t a chance for success.” “As soon as he learns that we’ve escaped, he shall hunt down both of us, you are aware of that?” “Isn’t an hour of freedom better than an eternity of imprisonment?” A tear appeared in Julak’s eye. “Come on.” – he said. Freedom was all the little one could think about. In this place it was all everyone thought about. Julak was the only one, who wanted to leave this place because he had been given a mission. A mission, which could change the destiny of the world.

Sounds interesting. I'm in! :-)

Paul of house Mib'Duad (character based on Paul Muad'Dib Atreides of Dune) Paul's father had been killed because the king had seen him as a potential threat to the throne, and everyone thought Paul to also be dead. He returned two days ago to the court, after he had heard the departure of the king. Remaining members of his family had been ruled to be outlaws, but such a ruling hadn't been made against Paul, since they had thought him dead, and thus he can move around freely in the absence of the king. Not many people know however of his return as it wasn't done publicly and only a select few have heard from him. Paul has black hair and matching dark eyes. He is rather tall and thin. He very rarely shapeshifts, but when he does so it varies what form he takes and due to him not having been seen in the last few years, it isn't easy to recognize him in his other forms.

Happy Birthday Nyyark! Ah the memories of twenty years are still close. *reminisces, then remembers easily since they were just over a month ago*

Great game, congratulations to the villagers, pity I had to pull out for lack of time at the beginning.

An owl flew through the portal and landed softly in the sand before stumbling in a small rock and falling on its face. In a flurry of feathers and arms Patham appeared, stood up and dusted off himself as if nothing had happened. He looked around to see whether anyone had seen his small accident. Patham walked to the stage and listened to Cheermynx describing what was going to happen. A beauty contest. Patham although not the most beautiful thought that he did have some charms. And besides it could be fun. He picked up the clipboard and the pen and signed his name at the top of the page. Smiling at the kitten he handed the clipboard and the pen back.

I'm interested in debating and might have a few topic suggestions after thinking about them. Do you want them posted or pm'd?

Morning arrived, but to John it did not bring any salvation after the night's events. After his nightmareish dreams, he had been torn out of uneasy slumber by the horrible news. It would have been his duty to go and inspect the scene of the crime, but he just couldn't bring himself to go there. His own son DJ. Why? Why did he have to die? What had he done to anger anyone? And that other child, Mary. John had seen Derrick with Mary several times before, but what could they have been doing out at night? If only... "If only I could have at least told him that I love him..." - John said half an hour later to the priest. "God loves us all John, and you know that." John had been religious ever since he had known, but this night's events had rocked his beliefs. "If God loves us, then why didn't he save my son?" The priest, slightly at unease, averted his eyes from John. "He must have judged that for Derrick James it was time." "What? Is that all you can say? My son was meant to die? For heaven's sake, he was only 15 years old. He still had several decades of life to look forward to." "There is no use in angering yourself John. God works in mysterious ways and I can not strive to be able to fully understand him, and can not always give you an explanation." "This is a messed up world...seems to me that he has abandoned us. How else would all these wars have happened? How else would my innocent little boy have been murdered? Does God even care?" "Of course he cares. Think of it this way, John. Maybe Derrick James is in a better place, where there is no more suffering." "He wasn't suffering in life. He was living a happy life. You're not helping me, reverend! WHY DID MY SON HAVE TO DIE? Damn you and your stupid god!" John stood up from his chair and strode to the door, which he slammed behind himself. A tear started slowly rolling down his cheek and John did not bother trying to stop it.

It had taken John and several of his collegues more than four hours to gather all the evidence they could find at the murder scene and by that time Robert had already placed Irene under arrest, based upon several witness accounts. The day had been long for John, but still he knew that he had to report to his superior, about all he had seen during the day. He went to security headquarters, and entered the metal structure. Inside he asked for the "boss" and was told that he could go and talk to him. Half an hour later John was nearing the end of his account. "...so the death was probably instantaneous, right?" "Yes sir. At least he died painlessly." "Thank you John. I know you have done much today, but I would like you to take the first watch of the night where Irene is locked up. Try talking to her. I'd prefer to have more to go on than just eye witness accounts." "Understood, sir!" John walked slowly back towards his home. He still had half an hour before he had to go to Irene's place. He had a quick shower and told his wife of the days events. Derrick James was not home yet, but John did not want to argue with him at the moment. Arriving at Irene's home John replaced Robert, who was glad to be able to finally go home. He waited until movement around the home died down and then knocked on the door, thinking he would ask Irene for her version of the facts, pretending that it could help her.

Since John has gone an NPC I'll be making some posts for him, but also feel free to use him in lynching/wolf posts if he is needed (finds bodies,etc...)

"Ni?" - I softly murmered to myself. Was this some different language, or the incantation of a spell? Who could this man be? I decided it would be best to ask him. "Hail knight! What brings you to this cave? Is it for the treasure that you come also?"

As it was his job John rushed to investigate the source of the scream as soon as he heard it, running from the storage past the kitchen until he reached the source of the sound. Many people were already standing there, and after a cursory glance at the body John stood among them listening to what they said. All information he could come by could interest his superiors. A murder had happened. For several minutes John just listened to the gossip of everyone around him, noting some phrases. Then he remembered his duty. "Listen to me everbody! This is a murder scene, and as there might be some evidence around here as to who the killer is, I would not like anyone touching anything. It would even be....it would be better if all of you just go outside. Yes. Everyone go outside if you will!" Two of John's collegues just got there and helped him secure the murder scene while they waited for the arrival of their superior and the doctor, who would need to establish cause of death.

Looks like I am going to get the time to post today, which I didn't think would happen.

I shall be probably missing until wednesday or thursday, while travelling back to Hungary. Feel free to use my character as NPC until then if needed, Vene.

Books? Quill Quest? Vene? Fun? What are we waiting for? I'm in!

OOC: Written collaboratively with Sweetcherrie. "Derrick James! Come and eat your breakfast!" DJ turned around sleepily in his bed when he heard his father call. He was annoyed by the fact that his father kept calling him by that ridiculous name, everybody called him DJ, so why couldn’t that old geek use that name as well. “I don’t want any!” He shouted back. He would move to the kitchen a bit later that day, and get something from there. Cook wouldn’t like it, but she wouldn’t know either. He closed his eyes again and was about to fall asleep again, when he remembered that Mary might be helping in the kitchens. He jumped from his bed, and slipped on his overall. He put on a white t-shirt and tied the sleeves of the overall around his waist. DJ checked in the mirror and, as he run a hand through his sleek hair, decided that he looked cool. He walked to the other room where his father was, and went to leave without a word. John sighed. Why, oh why did Derrick always test his patience? It was as if he did it on purpose, but John knew that it was only the boy's nature to act thus. He finished his breakfast of ham and eggs and did the washing up, putting Derrick's untouched breakfast into the fridge. He left a note on the fridge door for his wife explaining when he was going to get back from his duty, took his gun, issued by the shelter. He had never once drawn the gun from its holster, neither had any of his fellow security guards as far as John knew. He fastened the belt of his uniform and left his quarters, entering at first a small corridor, then the main corridor leading towards the kitchens and the supply area. As he passed the kitchens going towards the supply area, where he had to stand on duty during the morning he saw DJ near the kitchens. From the position he had chosen he could see the kids running away from cook, and her following them into the hallway. DJ saw Kyraine holding cook up with her mindless babbling, and decided that this was his chance to move in. He was just about to slip into the kitchen when he heard his father coming, he straightened up, said hello, and decided he’d have to come back later. DJ wondered where Mary would be, especially since she hadn’t been in the kitchen. He turned the corner in search for her, avoiding any other contact with his father.

Aranix, I think you have it now, this might be your lucky day. - I thought to myself. Gurg, my golem, shall soon finish clearing the rocks from the entrance of the cave and then we shall be able to go inside. The treasure awaits us!

John Doe John was barely three days old, when his father, a soldier, left him at the shelter and went off for war, never to return. He had given no name for the infant and it was thus that the inhabitants of the shelter had named him John Doe. John is now 45 years old. He had married at the age of 24 and had a son, Derrick James, at the age of 30. At heart John likes DJ, as all fathers like their children, but sometimes the boy causes a bit too much trouble. John had previously worked as a technician, but for the last seven years has worked as part of the security team of the shelter.

Happy Birthday to both of you!