Life is stranger than fiction.
“Gah, watch where you’re poking those fingers!”
So sayeth the bard, Ptolomous Rye.
“Quit yer cursin’, lass. The sooner we get it done with, the better. And to get it done properly, it has to be –tight-.”
“SSSSSssssss!!!”
And thus it is the bard’s noblest venture to experience life first and foremost, to collect from its vast and limitless pool of experiences and to share but a glimpse of them, a piece of the truth of all creation with the common and not so common man his performances touch.
“Get her legs, lad! No, not her legs, the wobbly bit what looks like a snake’s arse! And for the love of Orren, mind yar fangs.’”
Life is strange indeed, and by some mischief of the gods, you’ve been granted a chance for more of it. To feel the wind upon your brow once more, to breathe deep of life's peculiar perfume and feel its taste upon your....
> [1/2]
>>46719455
Well, no one ever said that life was 100% kind, but as you stand here holding a thrashing gorgon’s midsection to a makeshift operating table, feeling your bones groan in protest as the crazed cleric bandages her wounds, you can at least say that Ptolomous was not wrong. Life was definitely strange, and only bound to get stranger given your new… “condition”.
You are Lee, bard, lover, fighter, and more recently numbered among the walking dead. After being forcibly torn from the glorious twilight of the afterlife, you awoke in the recesses of a dungeon with a lot on your mind and not a lot of meat on your bones (none to be precise). At least before you had a chance to sink into the distraction that such a rude awakening could impose, you found yourself swept up in the heat of action, falling in line with your skeletal brothers to fend off an invasion of some sort.
You livened the pace with a bit of rhythm, put some life into those old bones and with a little brute force, a little bit of luck, and a charming musical number managed to turn the conflict on the other side around on its head, saving the life of a mother gorgon and possibly three adventurers in the process. Now you are here, trying to help patch up the damages and keep the nice snake lady from biting the kindly priest. And as the frankly ludicrous amount of anaesthetic she’d been given kicks in, it gets easier.
>>46719455
Oh yeah!
>>46719673
As her breathing slows, and her eyes glaze over, you can finally give your aching back a rest, snapping the vertebrae back in place with a satisfying snap. That just leaves you, a skeleton, and a man of the cloth sitting by each other with nothing but hundreds of pounds of snake and a thick silence between you.
> What do you say?
>>46719726
"Hey, babe. Wanna bone?"
>>46719726
Play a tune to lighten the mood and ease her pain.Do you have a link the previous thread?
>>46719780
>>46719726
Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/46600923/
>>46719818
Thank you
>>46719726
"So, Father, these dungeons animate the dead on their own? And the lady mentioned the previous tenants being vampires?"
Look around.
"I say, the place definitely needs some new furniture."
>>46719743
>>46719780
The gorgon is fast asleep, guys.
The only one awake is the crazy cleric.
>>46719938
Then I switch to this.>>46719921
>>46719726
“So, Father…” you start, attempts to clear your throat sending an awkward rattling down through your rib cage. “You seem to be somewhat well at ease for a man surrounded by skeletons. I mean, not that I mind when you keeping your head on straight means I get to keep mine, but could such a thing really be true? Did the dungeon bring me back? I’d ask my fair lady here…”
“Sssss…” she sighs softly, tail tip twitching in time with her breathing.
“But…”
“Well,” he says with a sigh, hands continuing to move to double check his stitching and snug the bandages around the unconscious gorgon. “I reckon I can’t be too sure what’s what till I’ve had a crack at one of you bone heads meself.”
“At the very least,” he says, when you raise a finger to interject. “I can say it ain’t necromancy. Bones don’t tend to get back up after a healthy dose of holy fire, you know. That, and it ain’t exactly unheard of. Every daft bastard and his father’s father’s evil uncle what built these sorts of places had a different means of arming ‘em to the teeth. Been plenty of cases of skeletons being brought back as something other than skeletons. Never heard of a talking one though.”
> Write in
>>46720346
"I assure you I can do more than just talk. It will take some doing, but I'm sure that I can find another one or two amongst my clattering brethren who can carry a tune, and then we shall have the band back together.
"Oh, but I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Lee, and my previous occupation was a traveling entertainer/adventurer."
>>46720510
Supporting
>>46720510
This works.
>>46720346
>>46720510
This, but also offer him a nice glass of milk.
Remark that it's good for your bones.
>>46720346
“I assure you, I can do more than just talk. Singing, composing, a bit of dance for that theater flare. All I need to do is hunt down a few of my new clattering acquaintances and see if they can carry a tune. Next thing you know, I’ll have a proper band back together.
“Oh, right, my apologies for not introducing myself. The name’s Lee, formerly a traveling entertainer before my unknown stint as a cadaver.”
“Yeah, well, pleased to make yer acquaintance, I suppose,” remarks the cleric. “But before you go terrorizin’ the local country side as a band of travelin’, playin’ spooks, could you hand me the holy water from the bag?” You flinch. “Ah, nay. Don’t give me that look. The Church of Orren keeps fire water in their holy water. Good for disinfecting and the like. Just need a dab here or there for the lass and she’ll be all cleaned up.”
“Ah, then of course,” you say, rattling away your concerns, and without further delay go fishing for the requested vial.
An ornate bottle quickly comes to hand, filled with a clear liquid and capped with a silv-
The sea of light is calling, warm to the touch and wondrously vacuous. You stare into that cavalcade of white and finally let your eyes relax. You are home. You are s-
“You feelin’ alright,” asks the cleric, snatching the vial from your hand before pouring some on a rag. With a bit of passing concern, you note white smoke pouring off of it.
> What to do?
> [] Tell the cleric
> [] Hide it
> [] Other
>>46720950
>> [] Tell the cleric
He seems cool.
>>46720950
> [x] Tell the cleric
>>46720950
>[] Other
"So, what does the Church say of the undiscovered country beyond the veil of death? As someone recently returned from a vacation there, I've been left with more than a simple passing interest."
>>46720950
>> [] Tell the cleric
>>46721039
This as well.
>>46720950
“Umm” you try not to panic as you shake your now wisping digits back and forth. “My good man, it seems I might have an allergy of sorts.”
“What are ye talking, abou-“ His jaw clenches when he sees your offered hand. “Well, that might be troublin’. Reckon, ye can bring it closer so I can take a look.” With a little bit of a nervous shake, you proffer your limb to the good priest.
“Hmm,” he mumbles, turning the smooth white bone over in his hands. “Ain’t burning the bones themselves at least, but something ain’t playin’ nice with the divine magic. Reckon it might be… Hmm… Ah, hell, hard to say what it is without knowin’ what made ye to begin with. Offhand, reckon I’d say it looks like yer spirit wanting to get outta these bones, maybe make its way back to the other side.”
“That reminds me,” you say, the diminishing smoke you notice helping you to relax a little. “What does the Church say of the undiscovered country beyond the veil of death? As someone recently returned from a vacation there, I've been left with more than a simple passing interest.”
“Well,” he says, obviously struggling to keep things casual. “Reckon everyone’s got their spin on the damn place. Heard everything from fluffy clouds to a burnin’ hellscape filled with constant battle. Damn near the only thing they can seem to agree on is that it’s a wee bit nicer than what we have here on Earth. It’s why it’s a crime to bring back the dead. There’s no greater crime than to tear someone from their god and force ‘em back into the world of the living.”
“Now, now,” you say when you notice him passing a meaningful gaze down on the gorgon. “I’m confident that she was telling the truth. Stake my life on it, cross my heart and hope to die.”
*Rattle-Rattle*
The priest, for his part, seems to be growing a bit more anxious as though questioning something.
> What do you do? Say?
>>46721396
"Speaking of the Church, your two companions; were they also of the faith?
" And good heavens! My Lady's young daughter! How could we have forgotten about her? She must be worried sick for her mother. We must find her and let her know her mother is safe!"
>>46721651
This!
>>46721396
I think I picked a bad night for the quest to run, unfortunately. I had meant to start earlier, but it's a bit of an odd weekend for me. At this rate, I'm not sure we'll have the necessary amount to archive, which would mess up progression more than a little. Does anyone have any thoughts, suggestions?
>>46722022
Drat. This was fun. Well, we could restart again another day though I liked what we got.
>>46722022
We could still archive, just that it'll be a short thread.
If you don't feel that you can come back to this tomorrow, a new thread might be needed, with all of your story posts dumped in the beginning of the new thread.
>>46722088
I like where it's going as well. Just running a little low on energy and audience at this point. Anyway, I think my plan right now would be to keep whatever has been voted on tonight and begin the next night with a longer opening post. Just a question of when.
>>46722144
I like this idea. Whenever you have time, really.
>>46722176
I could try tomorrow night, instead. I'm saddled with some group work that might run late, but maybe I could do the 6:00-8:00 CST start up time. I don't know if that's too late for people.
>>46722289
I think that could work though I don't know if the majority of people are on the east coast. It would be great for us West coast guys
>>46722289
Late Sunday nights don't seem to be too good for people, unless it's an already invested player base, because of work on Monday morning.
Though 7pm CST to 12 should still be okay for people.
>>46722443
>>46722432
My weeks are simply chaos embodied. I might have the day off. I might be working until four in the morning on a project. Whatever the case, I'm not usually going to be available before five on any given day. Sorry folks, but I guess I'll give it another shot tomorrow.
>>46719455
I just found this quest on the archive about 30 minutes ago, I'm glad it didn't fall away. It seems fun, and anything other than a Mary Sue fan fic beats the set bar. I'll be sure to watch for it in the future.
