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Found 9 results

  1. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Location: ??? Year: [Inapplicable] Members: All * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Fadran walked down the hallway, whistling to himself as he stared out the window at the (currently covered and somewhat unclean) pool. He’d finally finished taking down all the christmas decorations, leaving the entire building… refreshingly normal. There were still some wintry bits and bobs here and there, but those could stay until spring decided to show up. Cleaned the rooms, polished the doorknobs, removed the ceiling spikes… check. Scrubbed the counters, wiped the tables, filled the breakfast bar… check. Fixed the chandelier, filled up the netherworld entrance, exorcized the cursed cockroach infestation… check. “Looks good to me.” Fadran said out loud. You lined that door to the vampire-infested billiards room with silver? Icona asked. “Sure did.” And finally fixed the squeaking at the grand entrance? “Yup.” Then that should be it. Fadran cracked his knuckles. “Then let’s get this going.” He drew his Channelblade: now a long, aquamarine-colored katana, sheathed at his side beneath a cloak of deep green. With a snap of his fingers the two grand front doors swung open, revealing the sprawling snowcapped courtyard and cobblestone walkway sitting and waiting patiently for their guests to arrive from the intersection at Maybe Street and Somewhat Avenue. A grand red ribbon was pulled across the pillars before the doorway, the middle tied with a brilliant bow. “Ready?” I suppose. Fadran slashed his blade across the ribbon, cleaving it cleanly in two. With that the Mishmash Inn - the headquarters for the Fellowship of the Thing - had officially begun its grand reopening. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * OG members: @Nathrangking @Enter a username @xinoehp512 New members (interested parties): @The Bookwyrm @Ookla the Inverted @Telrao @Mr. Misting @Thaidakar the Ghostblood @PyroPhile @Shining Silhouette @Tani @NerdyAarakocra * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * CURRENT MISSIONS
  2. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Location: Caladi (Eltelia) Year: 1414 II Members: [Audit Pending] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The portal to Eltelia was a large, ornate iron gateway; the sort that wealthy Vangari could afford to lead into the courtyards of their manors. Metal was something of an opulence in a world built of bamboo and wood—not the sort of thing people went and sought at all too willingly. The likes of pewter lanterns and nickel silverware were locked up tight every night for that very reason. This one in particular led to a decently sizeable house, made of brick stones and oak wood up to two stories (plus an attic). It was almost perfectly square, with a sort of rustic, earthy feel to it; led into by the tall cobblestone wall surrounding the front yard. Thick velvet curtains, wood-shaft shutters, a gleaming iron doorknob, and old vines adorned the walls. Kris stood at the receiving end of the portal, tapping his foot like he always did when the last couple minutes before a mission started seemed to drag on and on for hours. He’d put in this mission request weeks ago, but Fadran had been uncharacteristically steadfast in his putting off the deployment - the Mishmash Inn, he said, was nearly finished. All that meant to him was that there were probably going to be a whole load of green recruits this time around. Hopefully they weren’t the likes to cause any unnecessary trouble, but there was really no telling with the folks Fadran seemed to rope into his “Fellowship.” But whatever. Business was business. One way or another, they’d figure this out.
  3. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Location: The Junk Yard Year: [Inapplicable] Members: [Audit Pending] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * There was actually a strange kick of excitement whenever Fadran left to go clean out the Junk Yard. That was probably because the place was just about half a kilometer from the inn, so it was sort of like an adventure right outside home: the kind he always imagined he might have with a child or two, if that had been the sort of life fate deemed him fit of. Still, nothing ever could really prepare him for the smell. It wasn’t like the noxious too-sweetness from the likes of rotten fruit, or the stank wretchedness from maggot-filled flesh. Instead it was something akin to an old antique store without ventilation. In addition to the musty smell of old books and dusty wood, there was also a kind of wholly uncleansable sweatiness - like a ghost of bad hygiene had been wandering the shelves for decades. Hm. Fadran thought to himself while they strode to the Yard. Maybe there is a ghost out here. Perhaps we should check for that too. The Junk Yard itself was probably as vast as the Inn, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Mostly it was old scraps like broken furniture, dirty glass, rusted armor, and other generally unusable pieces of garbage. He’d originally developed it on a whim during a deep pondering as to where all the pencils he’d lost over the years had gone, learning soon enough that just as people can become lost and wind up at his Inn, lost and discarded items could just happen to show up in his micro-dimension as well. It had taken him nearly a week to contain the phenomena - boy had that ever been hard to explain to Ayia. Of course, opening the dimension to junk also meant opening the dimension to junk-residing monsters. Most particularly in this case were the kleevers, who - as they’d learned when Fadran just about forced Kris to give them a study - had actually spread into a few extra universes themselves. The little guys looked, sounded, and acted just about how he imagined a gremlin might, but with the added perk of gathering around primordial sludge and acting as an energy source for potential swamp monsters. Basically, that had been one heck of a week.
  4. Fadran walked down the seashore, scanning the beach. He needed to find that treasure... where could it be? "Come out, come out, wherever you are..." he said under his breath. With a start, he saw a section of uneven sand. Picking up his pace, he ran forward and started digging. He hit wood, then began digging around the sand and pulling up the chest. "Hello beautiful."
  5. You stand before the Mishmash Inn, exhausted from your many adventures. This place is a five-star Adventuring Hotel: The perfect place to relax after a long campaign. Entering the building, you are welcomed by a smiling receptionist. "Hi, welcome the Mishmash Inn. How may I help you? If you're here to stay, I can automatically upgrade you to a Copper Guest. Oh, or are you looking for work? We're always in need of more staff." She gestures behind herself. "If you would like to take a room and stay here for awhile, then go talk to Tari: she can help you get signed up for a room. We have an all-you-can-eat Breakfast Buffet in the morning that runs from 7:00 - 10:30. If you would like to apply for a position as employee, then talk to our UnderManager, @Channelknight Fadran. I hope you enjoy your stay here!"
  6. Martin walks out of the portal, and nicely, does not find himself floating through zero-g. Rather the opposite, in fact. There's dirt and rocks under his feet, and a slightly overcast sky overhead. The air smells - not quite clear, but not bad, either. Where ever they've ended up, it's reasonably safe.