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Posted in BirthRight
Save the Heir
Awarded a medal for saving the youngest prince from stable fire.

Sadly the elder prince died.

Leif, Egil, Martel and Khamila came to the keep to talk with Klaus. They discovered panic and the stables on fire. One of the stable boys cried out that there was somebody still inside. Leif and Egil both dived straight into the building. Egil took an early breath of smoke. Leif faired better and managed to pull both Egil and the young prince out of the fire. Later it was realised the older prince was missing and a body was found further in the stables.
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Epic × 3!
Page 14
New words
few • Thard Harr • enough • however • sneak • underneath • disguise • attack • definitely • hairy • fought

There is a large floating shape that I can see from here out my round window. I think that I see Kytharrah walking on it somehow. How is he doing that? What is he doing?

The others have left me alone on the flying ship, which I call Frihet. They are trying to stop a very bad genie who wants to controle Hakam's home and land and let very bad hobgoblins live there. He is pretending to be a god. I wonder if the Maker is only pretending to be a god. He made me though. I am alive. Solisar said when I asked him that I am alive like a flower or an animal and not like that very grose person that attacked us on the ice many months ago or the dead things that attacked them in the cave a few days ago. They told me that those persons were dead and only moved because of magic. I move because I am alive and want to move.

If the gods or people like the Maker make all of us, are they so smart that they can figure out everything that we will ever do just like I figured out how much air Frihet carries around it? Does that mean that it is only pretend that we chuze things? Is being alive only like one of Szordrin's magic tricks? Are all of us really dead?

If this is all true, then are bad people bad? Or are they only broken and need to be fixed? Are hobgoblins broken people? When people break a lot, do they become hairy?

Hakam says that some gods are bad? Can gods be broken? Is it the god's fault if someone is broken since the gods made her? Are bad people mistakes made by broken gods? If this is also true, who made the mistake and made the broken god who made the broken person?

Kytharrah is not on the shape anymore. I see a giant man. Maybe he is one of Skata's family. He just vanished. Now they are all talking to Kytharrah. Now Belvordû cûig dêag mûchadh___________________________
Session: 100th Game Session! - Wednesday, Jan 24 2018 from 4:00 PM to 7:00 PM
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Posted by the GM
De Exilio
Chapter 5 — The Great Genie
After several minutes of questioning, they ascertained that Pharos, the ancient baelnorn guardian of the Spinning Keep, had slain Allu's archwizard, Booyagh, and that Kytharrah had been fortunate enough to be standing on the correct panel when the remains of the goblin were ejected.

   "So, we succeeded then," said Szordrin. "The genies are still entrapped."

   Just then, with no announcement, a massive being loomed over them.

   It was a humanoid male standing some 25 feet tall. He was bald and had a pointed and trimmed goatee. He was dressed in an open vest and baggy pantaloons with booted feet, looking exactly like the images of djinn from Hakam's childhood stories, except that only the most powerful of noble djinn were said to be so very large. A small gem stone seemed to be embedded in the genie's forehead.

   Leokas and Belvin stood there like stone, not knowing what to do in the presence of Calim, the great ruler of the ancient empire pre-dating Calimshan.

   "Kytharrah," said Szordrin quickly, "are you sure that you did not touch the crystal?"

   Kytharrah shook his head. The genie looked each of them over.

   "How did you escape?" asked Szordrin boldly.

   "I bided my time until I could convince her to take her revenge against the efreeti," said the enormous figure with a booming voice. "She foolishly listened.

   "Now, enough talk. Give me back my creation."

   "Begone, evil djinni!" commanded Hakam, and he tried to dispel any magic upon their visitor, but there was no effect.

   Solisar spoke to the genie in Lantanese, and the others heard a reply in the same tongue before he spoke in Common to all of them. "Tell me where she is."

   Leokas suddenly understood; this was not Calim at all. "We have escaped out of exile to put an end to your plans. It is the will of the gods!"

   "It is Samber in another form," Solisar explained to the others.

   Hakam immediately joined Leokas in protest. "You are defying the laws of nature and the multiverse! Cease at once. The gods do not permit a mere mortal to create new life at his whim, nor do they...."

   "Be still," commanded Samber with a wave of his massive genie hand toward Hakam. The Calishite cleric felt a powerful compulsion in his mind, but he overcame the magic with the force of his will.

   "Your shadow magics will not affect me!" Hakam shouted back, emboldened.

   "For whom do you seek?" asked Solisar, simply to buy time while he swiftly but secretly performed the motions required for one of his most powerful divinatory spells.

   In response, the genie simply frowned and closed his eyes. "I ask you one more time," he said, "where is she?" Suddenly, all of them felt a presence in their minds.

   "Get out of my head!" shouted Leokas, and he tried his hardest to imagine Vashti and their early adventures together, so as not to picture Ilthian and where she waited for them on the spelljammer.

   Szordrin tried to bluff. "She was a hindrance to us, so we left her in the far north, selling her as a bride to one of the primitive tribes there."

   Samber opened his eyes at this, and his frown turned into a look of confusion. They all felt a lessening of the "presence" in their heads for a brief moment, but then the "genie" smiled and looked at Kytharrah.

   "Thank you, young minotaur."

   Then the genie vanished.

   "I did not get to thank him for healing my arm," said Belvin.

   The others seemed far more concerned about other matters. "What were you thinking about?" Hakam and Szordrin asked Kytharrah simultaneously.

   "Play with Little Sister."

   "The magic alarm is triggered," said Solisar. "He is on the ship!"

   "Kytharrah can still fly," said Leokas. "He is our only chance to protect her."

   "I can go with him," said Belvin, as he hurriedly began removing his clothing and gear.

   "Fly with Belvin to the ship and protect Little Sister," Solisar instructed the minotaur.

   Belvin, now in the form of a pteranodon, shrieked and flapped his wings, taking to the air.

   "Go!" said Leokas, giving Kytharrah a little shove.


Minotaur and pteranodon landed on the main deck. Calim's body was lying there lifeless, now barefoot. Belvin shifted back into an elven form and approached the body. Blood was on the massive body's forehead. The small gem stone that had been there was gone, leaving a tiny hole.

   "More blood," said Kytharrah. He knelt on the opposite deck by a pool of red. "Little sister."

   Small, bloody footprints led away from the main deck down the stairs. They rushed down them to Ilthian's room, finding the door open.

   Ilthian was standing there and turned to face them. She was carrying a satchel, which Belvin recognized had been hanging from Calim's belt previously. In her other hand, she held a bloody kitchen knife. She seemed to be wearing the missing pair of boots, now shrunken to fit her much smaller form. She was covered in blood, which seemed to have come from her head, but she had no clear wounds.

   "You cannot stop me," said Ilthian's voice.

   Then Samber vanished.
Session: 100th Game Session! - Wednesday, Jan 24 2018 from 4:00 PM to 7:00 PM
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Posted by the GM
Gurps Deadlands
Kieser Pooped the shoot
Keiser in desperation to show what he is made of shot and killed the hooker with maniacal laughter. Hahahaha I am EEEEVIL!
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It is cold, the winter morning, but Valindra has risen early to practice sword-craft with Solera. Soon the others will rise from their bedrolls to break camp. Jarl Grugnar has fallen, and they have claimed The Orb of the Autumn Winds. A long journey to the Forest of Ardred now awaits.

Valindra breaths deeply of the frigid morning air and takes stock of her surroundings. A few flakes of snow fall gently. The saw tooth mountainsides rise around them into the grey sky. And her opponent, Solera Windrunner, awaits her some twelves paces across the snow covered ground. Should she come at her high or low, Valindra wonders. No matter what the angle of attack, the snow elf always seems to have a response.

Since winning Bodil from the risen dead on the sea ice, Valindra has felt the need to hone her skill with a blade. Such a mighty and elegant weapon demands nothing less than a skilled hand to wield it. Though the longbow has always been her weapon of choice, she has of course received training in the art of the sword. But she knows that she can improve. And who better to tutor her than Solera.

Valindra has never seen one more gifted with the sword than she. More than once in the midst of pitched battle, she has found herself utterly awed by Solera, awed by her grace and savagery as she weaves a singing net of steel about herself and glides deftly among her foes. Most barely register that death has come as the sword-maiden slips inside their defenses, strikes the killing blow, and circles on to the next. While in battle, she embodies both poise and ferocity. At times she seems almost a dancer whose feet barely kiss the ground. But she is a vicious killer as well, cleaving helm and byrnie alike with antaean strength as she hews down those foolish enough to oppose her. And she is awed by her in other ways as well. Yes, Valindra counts herself lucky to have such a skilled teacher.

Over these long months, through all their trials and travails, she has grown ever closer to her teammates. Ainorei, Blair, RaRa, Diogenes, have all become her family. Revanthas. It is the Elvish word for “Friend,” and is the same word as “Clan.” It means other things as well, things which cannot well be translated into human tongues. It is a title reserved for only for the closest of companions and the members of one’s own tribe. For the elves, all people of the world are either Revanthas or Ravathas-neh. Not clan. There is no longer any doubt what these companions have become to her.

But there is something different than Revanthas in her feelings toward Solera. Something more. Something not felt for many seasons.

Valindra watches her now, as she readies herself for the first move in their morning dance. Eyes of blue ice, white hair streaming like fire in the morning breeze, faint smirk playing about her mouth, twin swords at the ready. Her beauty is as still sunsets of bitter evenings when all the world is frore, a wonder and a chill. She is as a sun-stricken mountain uplifted alone, all beautiful with ice, a desolate and lonely radiance late at evening far up beyond the comfortable world, not quite to be companioned by the stars, the doom of the mountaineer, a boon to her friends.*

“Are you just going to stand there all day, Lindy, or are we going to spar?”

Her reverie broken by Solera’s playful taunt Valindra smiles and launches herself at her partner. Swords whistle and steel sings.

Thus their dance begins.

*Lord Dunsany
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