Quote from: Neshm hiKumala;1044973Seconded.
Thanks for sharing this with us, Chirine.

You're welcome!

Quote from: AsenRG;1044999And here I thought I'd learn a new approach! Ah well...

That sucks, Uncle! Hope at least you'd get a nice overtime bonus!

I can imagine...
Care to elaborate more on this incident;)?

Sorry.

Nope. It's straight time, with a shift change.

Gary thought that it would be clever to carry blue lanterns and bells in the underworld, on the assumption that it would scare most of the Dire Perils away. What he didn't think of was that the real Ssu would come and see what their friends might be up to...

Mayhem, as I am fond of saying, ensued.

Quote from: chirine ba kal;1045096Sorry.

Nope. It's straight time, with a shift change.

Gary thought that it would be clever to carry blue lanterns and bells in the underworld, on the assumption that it would scare most of the Dire Perils away. What he didn't think of was that the real Ssu would come and see what their friends might be up to...

Mayhem, as I am fond of saying, ensued.

No reason to be sorry, Uncle. I can live with this one.

That, however, is even worse!

And that was a smart idea...both on his part, and on Phil's part:D!

Quote from: Baron;1044882And I'm just painting up one of these guys!
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Has a Shunned Ones vibe. Who's the manufacturer?

Blaise

Quote from: chirine ba kal;1044917Sorry to sound snarky; I have to be back into work at eight tomorrow morning to cover for a co-worker, which I found out about at three this afternoon, and I've gotten home jus in time to hopefully go get some sleep.

I'm experiencing something similar myself these days. Have been since February. But chin up and all that. Karma has a way of balancing things out. (I'm sure there's a Trickster aspect to one of the gods. Don't know which one.)

Blaise

Quote from: bconsidine;1045260Has a Shunned Ones vibe. Who's the manufacturer?

Blaise

It's a Reaper "Brain in a Jar." :-)

Quote from: Baron;1045267It's a Reaper "Brain in a Jar." :-)

Somehow, that just seemed too obvious...

Blaise

In honor of the solstice:

4.1801   The Shores of the Goddess, And The Treasures Found There;

Winter Solstice, 2360 A. S.; Ru'su, in the Nyémesel Islands

The crowd in the central plaza was getting thicker and denser as the light began to fade; Chirine stopped where he was, and looked for a reasonably clear path across the plaza through the throngs of local people that were filling the broad space. He'd forgotten that this was the evening of the winter solstice, and despite never having been here in Ru'su before, he suspected that the theocrats who ruled these islands had some sort of ceremony in mind. Being a foreigner, and one who stood out amongst the crowds of the commoners due to his dress, he wanted to be out of sight and out of mind when the festivities got started; many of the places that he'd been in his career had interesting and unusual ideas regarding how strangers could take prominent parts in their colorful traditional ceremonies, and many of the less civilized ones usually resulted in the stranger being sacrificed to the local gods in interesting and unusual ways.

His linen kilt and gold collar of plaques, which in Tsolyánu would have been considered dreadfully informal for a high-ranking military priest-priest, looked like formal or ritual garb here among the commoners of these islands. They all wore minimal loincloths at best, even on this evening of ceremony, with the only finery on display being necklaces and hair ornaments made of the seashells that all of the islanders prized. Considering what they had to contend with to get those shells, he mused, he'd value them as well; fishing in the seas around the Nyémesel Islands was fraught with danger.

The sound of a conch-shell horn echoed over the plaza, and he felt the crowd draw back a bit; there were too many of them to be able to see anything. The horn sounded again, and a path opened in the crowd in front of him as if on command; the people on either side of the narrow corridor they'd just opened looked at him and gestured for him to pass ahead of them into the central part of the plaza. He could see the heads of several of the priests of Mrettén ahead of him, at the end of the corridor, and their bobbing sea-shell helmets gave the impression that they were looking for something. Or someone, and he had the feeling that he was what they were looking for.

The helmets were joined by a tall headdress of plumes as he moved towards them, and he wondered what that might indicate; Khéshchal plumes were an exceedingly valuable commodity here, and he'd never seen anyone wearing them in the short time they'd been docked in the harbor buying provisions. Hárchar, always eager to make a kaitar, had gone around buying up all the plumes he could from his passengers to sell to the ruling priesthood; he'd been truly annoyed by the heaps of reddish seashells he'd been offered in exchange until Chirine had reminded him that the shells were the local currency – and were quite valuable back in distant Tsolyánu, where they were used in the making of the deep purple dyes sacred to Lord Hrü'ü, and worth their weight in gold to the dyers' clans. Hárchar was greatly relieved and reveled in his profits, much to all of their amusement.

The helmets resolved themselves into two priests, as he thought; the plumes, on the other hand, topped a masked helmet worn by a rather slender and rather muscular woman. Unlike the priests' blanket-like wraps of dyed sea-grass, she wore a filmy garment of the finest Thésun gauze which was draped from her shoulders to her hips. Like the plumes, the silken gauze was both rare and valuable here, and he assumed that the woman was a priestess of Mrettén in some sort of ritual vestments. She saw him, as he broke through the last of the crowd, and gestured to the two priests. They turned and saw him, and both broke out into what looked like smiles of happiness or relief; Chirine had the feeling that somebody was late to the ceremony, and that he'd been tapped as the replacement. The woman turned away and walked into the plaza's center, and the two priests fussed over him like two old women over a grandchild. They handed him a tall helmet similar to theirs, but with a masked face and various emblems worked on the surface of the shell that it had been made from. Once he had donned it, they led him through a line of yet more priests who had formed a large open circle around the middle of the plaza, and pointed to a spot in the exact center.

When Chirine had crossed the plaza earlier, he'd noticed that it was decorated by what looked like arcs of shells inset into the stone pavement; they had been in different colors, from what little he could see of them under the stalls and people's feet, and now he could see that they formed large circles, five of them, paved with shells in different colors. The center spot that he was headed for was just large enough for one to stand in, and done in golden-colored shells that glittered in the fading light. Ahead of him, facing the setting sun, was what looked like the cleric who was going to preside over the coming ceremonies.

As Chirine stepped into the central circle, the cleric raised his arms and gestured to the ring of priests; half and half, alternately, they either blew conch-shell horns or uncovered lanterns that illuminated the plaza in a soft golden light. From behind this circle came five dancers, each in gauzy fabric costumes that had been dyed to match the color of the shells that made up the five concentric rings in the pavement. They spiraled inwards towards him until each stood on the circle that matched the color of their costume, and stood still for a moment while the presiding priest made an incantation; the conch-shells sounded once again when he was done, and the five dancers began a stately procession around their circles, dancing between formal poses as they went. Each moved at a specific pace, the outermost moving the slowest and the inner ones faster and faster, twirling in the light from the lanterns.

The dance might have looked like some ordinary folk ritual to one untutored in sorcery, but to anyone with even a smattering of temple knowledge it was more then that. To someone of his training, and his experiences, it was much more then that; he was at the center of what amounted to a human replica of an orrery. He'd seen the mechanical version from the height of the First Imperium of the Engsvanyáli that had survived in the Tsoléi Islands. There, the five planets that orbited Tuléng were represented by sorcerous globes; here, bejewelled dancers played the parts of the various worlds.

The next ranks of dancers who spiraled into the circles simply confirmed his surmise; a dancer for each of the little worldlets that orbited the primary planets in Tékumel's sky joined in the dance, again accompanied by fanfare from the shell trumpets. The middle dancer of the five was joined by two dancers, one in dusty red and one in bright green, and he started as he recognized the dancer portraying Tékumel as the woman he'd seen with the two priests. The two acolyte children, for such they were, revolved around the older woman in the same counter-rotating way that the two moons Gayél and Káshi did about Tékumel, and as they joined her the crowds beyond the ring of priests took up the chant of the high priest; drums, rattles, and other musical instruments came into play, and the air of festivity seemed general.

There also seemed to be an expectation that something else, perhaps of a more dramatic or miraculous nature, should be happening and Chirine had the feeling that the high priest who was presiding over this ceremony was giving him a certain look. Chirine had the feeling that he'd better do something interesting and appropriate, preferably of a dramatic or miraculous nature, in the very near future or it might go badly for himself and his companions.

The fading twilight gave him an idea, and when the music and chanting reached a high point Chirine raised his own arms and outlined a sigil in the air over his head. He cupped his hands together, and drew them apart; a sphere of golden light grew and shone over his head, and lit the dancers, the priests, and the near ranks of the crowd. The music and chanting stopped for a heartbeat, and the dancers all froze in their places; time itself seemed to stop, and there was a complete and utter silence in the plaza.

He spared an instant from his concentration on the spell for a glance at the high priest. That worthy had gone from astonished shock to euphoric happiness in that briefest of moments, and Chirine went back to concentrating on maintaining the sphere of energy. The high priest called out to the silent throngs, saying something that sounded very important and not a little triumphant; the crowds thundered back, and the music and the dance resumed with a new energy and a very real sense of satisfaction from everyone.

After what seemed like an eternity, the music slowed and the dancers began to spiral back out to the ring of lanterns. The acolyte children from the outer rings left first, followed by the older dancers until only the woman and her two small companions were left. She began a slow spiral inwards to Chirine, and as they came closer to him he modulated the spell so that the sphere became both smaller and dimmer. The two acolytes continued their dance for a moment more, then they too spiraled off and were lost against the surrounding circle of dark shapes. The woman danced closer to him, and he could see the fine sheen of sweat on her skin.

As she came within arm's reach, he lowered his arms, bringing the now man-high sphere of energy down to surround himself. She finally stopped, facing him, and she extended her own arms out to match his; they were both surrounded by the golden sphere of light, alone in the center of the empty and now silent plaza. He felt a delicate touch on his fingers, and let the spell fade slowly. As he did so, the priests in the surrounding ring extinguished their lanterns, leaving only the two of them lit in the glow of the now dim sphere. The woman gracefully swung away from him, still touching one hand so that they stood side by side in the glow of energy. She led him slowly to the high priest, who waited until they stood before him; the priest gestured to Chirine, and he let the sphere die away completely until they stood in the dark.

This seemed to be the signal that the crowd had been waiting for, and what sounded like general revelry broke out. The high priest stepped forward, took both their hands in his own, and led them out of the plaza to the gate of the Temple of Mrettén. The gates opened at their approach, and they went inside to a shrine that was just inside the temple grounds. It was small, not very grand, but endowed with an aura of sanctity that one could sense from outside the gates. The shrine's doors were opened by kneeling priests of what looked to be high rank, and then he and the woman were alone inside; the high priest had ushered them in, and then closed the doors with his own hands while bowing deeply to them.

(It was one of our very best nights with Phil, ever.)

Quote from: bconsidine;1045261I'm experiencing something similar myself these days. Have been since February. But chin up and all that. Karma has a way of balancing things out. (I'm sure there's a Trickster aspect to one of the gods. Don't know which one.)

Blaise

Understood! It's the schedule timings; I'm not as young as I used to be. On the other hand, it was to help out my co-workers, so it was a worthy cause; they've had a run of family emergencies that have to be dealt with, so I am happy to help out. I'm flying solo tonight, as an example, but we'll deal with it. So, probably no posts tonight, depending on how I'm doing.

I think that my mood stems from this past weekend. I had a grand time on the Saturday, with a truly wonderful time running the game with some great players. I came out of it really stoked, and eager to get back into the groove. I was even able to buy the thee boxes of Zulu regiments that I'd been looking at for a while, as I'd gotten a pretty big award at work and The Missus thought that I should celebrate. The day ended on a euphoric note.

Which was totally crushed on the Sunday. I found out that somebody was posting excerpts from this thread and my blog over on another forum, which was a surprise as usually people e-mail me to do an interview, which they then publish with my blessings; one of the forum regulars, a Very Big Name ex-TSR person, took exception to something I mentioned about my experiences with Gary and Dave, and things went quite downhill after that. I - to be frank - failed my morale check and seriously thought about taking the boxes of figures back to the FLGS and getting a refund. The Missus stepped in, as she did after the debacle with the Shieldwolf figures, and we're keeping the impi. I will not be back to that forum, or any others; this thread, and my blog, will be the limit of my connections for the time being. It was a very bad day, and I am still not back to my usual upbeat mood; probably after Sunday's game, though.

That's life, I guess.

Hey Chirine, I'm generally pretty new around here and I just wanted to say that I had utterly no idea who you were or why anyone could possibly have multiple ongoing hundreds-o'-page-count threads with their name on the tin.

Or at least, I didn't until recently when I began reading through your blog and your associated forum posts (some of them at least). All excellent stuff, but in particular your reminiscing about your early experiences and how those have affected your ongoing tastes and preferences in roleplaying games has been fascinating to ingest and reflect upon (as I continue to dissect my own series of experiences and preferences in gaming). It's fantastic to be able to read about your enjoyment and perspectives of the hobby itself and to see those embers of passion, exploration, collaboration and creativity still burning hot to this day. You've brought me back a taste of my own personal early years of wonderment, and now more than ever I'm inspired to go back to my roots and rekindle the fires that made me love this hobby so much to begin with.

So thank you. For all the countless words you've enthusiastically shared with the rest of us along with the wisdom and history they carry, and for your ongoing willingness to engage openly with people about your ideas, your introspections and experiences, rather than sitting on them out of shyness, fear, intolerance or even simple indifference.

I'm afraid that the Internet, jealousy and rose-tinted spectacles make for a very toxic environment in a lot of places. There's always some sort of feud going on stoked by the anonymity of posting under 'handles' and you may have inadvertently upset someone by your memories of the people you mention and been improperly familiar rather than kow-towing to their brilliance.

If we do not learn from the past we are doomed to repeat it.
Please teach us the history of EPT.
=

Astonishing day today; just getting in now; saw all your messages, replies tomorrow after the game session. Kraken to be released.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_WoKrRycvQ

And we're back, after an afternoon of dance-offs at the tiki bar, chugging back drinks with little paper parasols in them, stealing pirate ships from the pirates, setting the town on fire, evading the city guards, and going underwater for a visit to the palace of the mermaid Queen. All the usual mayhem, actually...

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Next Sunday, they are off to the sunken city of Atlantis, to see what the Kraken is up to...

Quote from: Antiquation!;1045397Hey Chirine, I'm generally pretty new around here and I just wanted to say that I had utterly no idea who you were or why anyone could possibly have multiple ongoing hundreds-o'-page-count threads with their name on the tin.

Or at least, I didn't until recently when I began reading through your blog and your associated forum posts (some of them at least). All excellent stuff, but in particular your reminiscing about your early experiences and how those have affected your ongoing tastes and preferences in roleplaying games has been fascinating to ingest and reflect upon (as I continue to dissect my own series of experiences and preferences in gaming). It's fantastic to be able to read about your enjoyment and perspectives of the hobby itself and to see those embers of passion, exploration, collaboration and creativity still burning hot to this day. You've brought me back a taste of my own personal early years of wonderment, and now more than ever I'm inspired to go back to my roots and rekindle the fires that made me love this hobby so much to begin with.

So thank you. For all the countless words you've enthusiastically shared with the rest of us along with the wisdom and history they carry, and for your ongoing willingness to engage openly with people about your ideas, your introspections and experiences, rather than sitting on them out of shyness, fear, intolerance or even simple indifference.

You're very welcome, and thank you for the kind words. All I'm trying to do is share that sense of wonder we felt, and I think we still do. I'm still quite surprised that these pages still seem to interest people, to be honest. But then I still hold that The Thread belongs to all of you, not to me, as it's your questions and interest that keeps it going. (And Pundit's patience, of course.) I enjoy what I do, and I try to keep that 'laughter factor' in mind as much as I can, especially when the going gets tough.