Campfire

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Aug 12, 2018 1:41 am
OOC:
This thread is for occasional instances that you guys can share fun/interesting information about your characters. It could be a flashback to flesh out some background information, or your character's reflection of events in the game. It can be in the form of words spoken to the companions, or personal thoughts held in reserve.

This is the place to post and keep track of these experiences, and I'll give rewards in-game - which will most likely be bonus XP, but aren't limited to just that.
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Post-Yxonumei Campfire starts here!
Aug 12, 2018 1:55 am
Tonight Nessa is uncharacteristically quiet. There isn't any of the usual banter or pranks. Instead her thoughts are driven inward. Frustrated at her mother, pessimistic about meeting with her father, all wrapped up in an impotant rage. She wants to beat on something, kill and feel the adrenaline burn away her frustration.

There are a few zombies near. I could vent my frustrations out on them. They never listened to me either. So much like my mother. Maybe when everyone's asleep I'll sneak away and kill them all. That'll help me sleep tonight. I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep otherwise.

No, that's a terrible idea. I'd probably just die....or would I? Maybe if I can think of a way to do it so I only have to fight one at a time?....
Aug 12, 2018 2:06 am
Fluphy drifted around Zenithral's head as he sat a short ways off from the group. His eyes kept drifting to Alalla.

That battle had been close. Too close. She had died and there was no Father Tulfgyr to save her. Mother Egenia had sacrificed her life instead. Zenithral winced at the gash in his chest, the one he took instead of Alalla. What was the point of that? She died anyway. He hadn't removed anyone's suffering, hadn't actually saved her, yet he still suffered the pain. He could see the tactical benefit of being able to sacrifice his own vitality for another's, but did he actually care about relieving the suffering? Would he do it even if it wasn't life-threatening?

He had done it for Mother Egenia when he didn't necessarily need to. Clearly he believed it, at least some degree.

He looked at Alalla, almost in wonder. She had cheated death so many times in their time since Easthaven. She was remarkable.

Nessa had experienced a near-equal trauma; killing her...mother. Zenithral shuddered. He planned on doing the same to his father, but though demonic he acted, Erestor wasn't literally a demon! He squinted his eyes and tilted his head in Nessa's direction. Was her cheeriness just a ruse, like the illusions she weaved? A mask to wear to cope with the trauma? It seemed likely. He'd have to keep an eye on her. "An unstrung bow is just a stick," his grandfather had told him.

What?! Now he was just seeing his comrades as weapons?! He'd have to keep an eye on himself too...
Aug 14, 2018 6:44 am
OOC:
A flashback from Al's dad Simeon.
"You in there today?" Ellis asked sharply, after the fuming woman left. Simeon looked up from his carving. He blinked as though taking in his surroundings for the first time, then nodded to his brother. "Then you had better talk to her," Ellis said, jerking his bald head at Alalla who stood in a corner. Her head was down and she kept clenching and unclenching her fists, looking at the blood glistening on her dark knuckles. Simeon didn't think it was hers. "This is the third brawl she's been in this week. It's getting ridiculous."

He nodded again, and Ellis left the room, putting a tender hand on Alalla's shoulder as he passed.

"Come here, fierce one," Simeon beckoned to his daughter in Orcish. He thought she almost flinched at the pet name, though it was one he used often. "So you beat up the Fletcher boy?" He asked, trying to recall the woman's shouting from a moment ago.

"His mother conveniently left out the part where he had been harassing Linny." Alalla leaned into the harsh consonants and guttural sounds of her childhood tongue in her anger and disgust.

Simeon frowned as Al thumped onto the bench beside him. "That tiny slip of a child? Isn't he usually in charge of taking care of her?"

"Exactly. He was laughing at her while she cried and pushed her back into the mud every time she got up. She's too little to get away and where would she have gone? He was supposed to be looking out for her. Someone had to do something, and he just laughed at me when I said to stop."

Simeon snorted. "Only an idiot is so brave. You're almost twice his size."

Alalla rolled her eyes. "He didn't think a girl would fight him. He learned his lesson."

Simeon eyed his daughter. He didn't like how darkly she had said that. "Did you have to teach him so thoroughly?" He took her dark hands in his and wiped the blood off her knuckles with a handkerchief, admiring the way their near-black complexions were almost identical. She had a green undertone to her skin that his didn't of course, if you looked close.

Alalla was quiet for a while, watching her father work before she spoke. He almost jumped when she did. He forgot he had asked her a question. "I wanted to see him bleed," she said quietly. To Simeon she sounded... afraid. "I feel sick about it now, but then... I just couldn't stop." Simeon noticed properly for the first time exactly how she was looking at her hands. Not just like they belonged to someone else. Like they were vipers that could turn and bite at any moment. Something clicked in his head. He felt foolish for not realizing it sooner. His mind had been so slow lately.

"Is that why you stopped carrying knives?" Almost everyone carried some sort of belt knife for common tasks, but Alalla had been refusing to hold onto even a small whittling knife for longer than it took to cut her food at meal times. She nodded sullenly.

"Hmmm," Simeon hummed thoughtfully, as be bundled his daughter into his lap, as though she were a small girl again, and not a tall young woman. "I think it's time for you to have proper combat training."

"What?" Al jumped off his lap so quickly she might have been burned. "And fight more? I'll go stark raving mad and start killing for fun, like that half-orc Martin talks about."

"Oh hush," Simeon chuckled, gathering her up again. "You know better than to listen to Martin." He didn't say that he had known the half-orc man in question, decades ago. The story wasn't as fantastic as Martin liked to make it, but it had ended in blood and death and heartbreak. But Alalla wouldn't be like him, he told himself. That man hadn't been a child of love, and had always been a little twisted. And he wasn't Al.

Realizing he had let silence stretch between them, Simeon shook off his reverie. "Well if you want to stop fighting, then next time you see little Linny in trouble, you will just have to walk away," he said reasonably. His daughter replied with a flat look. "Well if you can't do that, then you will have to throw yourself at her assailant's mercy, and take their wrath." Al rolled her eyes. "Well then, you will need to learn to fight properly. Some take all their rage and anger and unleash it that way, it's true, but many don't. You will learn precision and control; when to use your strength, and how much in what way. You know, I even knew some who said practicing with their weapon was like meditation, and used it to clear their mind. " Al looked doubtful. "You know I know what I'm talking about," he said, tracing the many scars cross-crossing his arms with a thick finger.

Alalla sighed. "But you don't know about this," she gestured up and down at herself.

"I don't, fierce one. Your mother didn't have much to set off her temper alone in the mountains. But she also didn't care for people like you do." Simeon took his daughter's chin in a large calloused hand. "It isn't your fault you have these feelings. But I know you're stronger than them. You're a protector, Alalla. Don't let them stop you from being one." He tapped her nose and Al smiled, a large grin that showed all her teeth. She smiled like that so infrequently now. He missed those smiles, especially since he saw Shelur in them.

"Thanks, Father," Alalla said, embracing him. Simeon blinked. For what? "I'll talk to Uncle about it." Ah, the training. Of course. He nodded as his daughter bounced off. She would do well. Most didn't think of orcs as graceful, but Shelur had had a grace to the way she moved, and her daughter had inherited it. He was lucky he had found her out in the mountains. How would his life have been if he hadn't?

Simeon returned to his carving, lost in thought about his dead wife, his conversation with his daughter already forgotten.
Last edited August 14, 2018 6:46 am
Sep 10, 2018 3:33 pm
Ugs years with mama were the best he could wish for. She taught him to cook in the kitchens with her, gave plenty of perfect hugs, accidentally taught him some interesting curse words, and stood up for him unconditionally. When it came to defending Ug, she truly was the best kind of warrior. Though he was twice the size of other boys, and could easily fend for himself, it became known quickly to never mess with Nancy’s son. And Ug made it clear to never mess with Mama. After a very brief, and easily won school scuffle, the other young gnomes learned to never use the "your mamas so fat she gives herself flanking advantage" insult again.

The only ones tough to silence were the priests. To them Ug would never belong, though Ug couldn’t understand why. "He cant stay, he is not one of us!" They would yell. "He’s one of mine!" mama would scream back. Mama Told Ug they were alla bunch of Moop’s. The priests claimed that their gods told them Ug would bring trouble. Ug decided that if a god told you to yell at a mother, then he wanted nothing to do with it. That didn’t help the tension.

Ug learned to despise them as much as they did him. As the years went by the tensions grew. Ug saw the stress that it brought on his mother, but didn’t know how to stop it. It was when he threw the "sacred orb of harmonious joy and peace" at a priests head who had shouted at his mom, that Ug had gone to far. Ug approached his dearest mama and told her he was ready to prove to the gnome priests he wasn’t a "token of pure evil wrapped in loincloth." He would go out into the world and create a name and glory that would put the priests to shame.

Mother was sad but understanding. She helped him pack, made sure his loincloth was secure, and with a pat on his backside she told him she loved him and to "be an Ug out there."

Ug left dorns deep with the optimism and high hopes to make true friends, conquer evil, and make the world a better place. He would make mother proud.
Last edited September 10, 2018 3:43 pm

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