Kobold King

Granted. They are screwed into your skull, and can never be removed lest you burst your head open. I wish for a loaf of gluten-free garlic bread.

I wouldn't say it's not worth it. If we'd let fate dictate which characters we developed, we'd never have seen the Sadry's, the Regways, or Mr. Meh.

Actually, I was planning on having someone engage him in midair. Give me another couple of hours and I'll get that second Dalles post I've been promising written.

Does Murk use the same spells as Samuel? If so, could I get the list too?

Yeah, I'd have to side with Twi on this one. Fleshwarping isn't the same as necromancy; while the effect would be totally awesome, I simply can't see the Panda being able to pull off such a feat quickly. Personally, I don't think the Panda should be able to affect dead tissue at all. It... doesn't really fit with his power profile. The ability to transform dead organic matter into living flesh seems like a totally different power than the ability to manipulate living tissue. You're welcome to all the vanillas you can round up, though. It'll be tragic, and it'll enrage the City Guard, but it's certainly a logical and solidly attainable strategy for the pandas. EDIT: I should, of course, point out that the necromancy issue is only my opinion. Lightsworn, I'll accept anything you decide and the GM allows. Hope I didn't come across as too harsh.

Thanks for the recommendations! I'll be sure to listen to them later. Unfortunately, creating cannon fodder Epics for The Dalles City Guard is not an option. It's been too definitively established that their ranks include only a very small number of documented Epics. Cannon fodder vanillas would be fine, but random Epics aren't. I'll have to check a map of The Dalles. By this point though, the City Guard will have a solid perimeter around the city, well-equipped by Arsenal. It would be exceedingly difficult to breach any part of it, and holding onto captured territory would be very difficult for pandas in wooden armor. Ultimately, the pandas are good at causing chaos, but I think occupying a part of the city for more than a few minutes would be impossible for them. Also, welcome home. I've never been on a plane, but it doesn't sound fun.

"Portlanders hate him! Man figures out how to destroy cities with this one weird trick." ^ Preview for my upcoming Epic character, Clickbait. ^

Backtrack has to be pretty deep into Overconfident Slontze Mode before he initiates a flirt.

Buy. I bet Wayne'll try to sell him an anti-logic talisman, too. An elderly Marasi will appear in the second Mistborn trilogy.

Count me in. If Backtrack gets to stare forlornly at them from afar, it may wind up as the most popular scene in the RP.

You forgot to name one of the moons of Uranus.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe Prince Caspian Voyage of the Dawn Treader The Silver Chair The Horse and His Boy The Magician's Nephew The Last Battle Without looking it up, name at least one moon for every planet in the solar system. (Where applicable.)

Hmm... sell, but the Sanders may surprise me on this one. It just seems like Book 3 of a ten book saga is way too early to start offing major protagonists. The Knighthawk Foundry is run by an Epic, but that Epic's name is not Knighthawk.

And here I thought this was about a forum get-together in Switzerland. I like this idea. I don't know how plausible it is, considering how little information we have on their purpose and activities, but I could see them filling this capacity. Assuming that they don't have a particularly vested interest in the welfare of some Shards or planets over others.

Sorry you're feeling blue. And it's a shame you're so strapped for time. Getting an overload of work sucks. Have an upvote. Though for what it's worth, I thought the Quota post was great.

Most excellent lampshading, then. We just need for Funtimes to break the fourth wall a bit and she'll officially be the Reckonerverse Pinkie Pie.

Lycra!Lightwards, at this point in time, would result in an all-out Epic brawl on the street. Not necessarily a bad thing, and it'd certainly be entertaining, but I'm afraid it wouldn't quite mesh with our plans as a whole. (The Drunktimes post was awesome, by the way. And I'm wondering just how accurate Funtimes' estimation of the meeting time was. )

Here's this one I started. A lot of quality suggestions came from yonder. If you're into science fiction, there are a lot of great books named on this thread too. Good luck with the surgery!

Granted. Everything you touch from now on, including your clothes, family members, and your computer, will be transformed into charcoal. (You should look into the Reckoners RPG. Awesome members, an epic storyline, and no one can kill your character without permission. ) I wish for an indestructible rubber duck.

That's awesome. In a world where a deranged necromancer and a glittering menace threaten to tear society apart at seams, a band of misfit heroes emerge... Alright, so only Remington only counts as a hero in the villain-stopping sense of the word. But you can bet that Sam and Revolution will mock them at every turn, and Nathan will try desperately to talk some reason into them. Also, one of them unicycles in a kilt and a Darth Vader mask.

Portland post is up. I've gotta admit, I quite enjoy writing Drunk!Lightwards. Far more than when he's somewhat more rational in his evil at other times. Also, Sam may or may not hold onto her fleeting brush with badchullery. I think the most reasonable thing for her to do with that clipboard note right now is to let Remington deliver it to the Reckoners.

"Milady, that was a wonderful demonstration and it quite solves the problem I had," Altermind said with a suave smile. "Prof, I had a similar idea, so before I came, I had a technician work this up for you." Lightwards scowled in his direction, both at the compliment towards Lucentia and at the use of the word 'Prof.' As far as he was concerned, any professor who allowed the nickname 'Prof' was either an idiot or not a real professor at all. Quite probably both. Granted, he wasn't entirely sure if he was a 'real' professor any more. His employment at UC Davis had most likely been terminated after his incident there. But storm it, he'd worked for his degree and he'd worked for his position. And he hadn't done that work for some two-bit illusionist with a superiority complex to demean his status! The illusionist continued to jabber on about the mobile, which Lightwards took awkwardly and examined with growing internal rage. The screen's too bright, Lightwards observed bitterly, toning out Altermind as he chattered with Funtimes. Typical. You'd think the technicians would notice things like that. Little details to make things easy on the users. But noooo, they're just like the Knighthawk Foundry. They've got a monopoly on the industry and throw quality to the winds! I'd like to sit down with whoever the sparks runs that place and give him a piece of my mind. Scratch that: I'd blow his brains out. Everyone in the world needs their brains blown out, because CLEARLY THEY AREN'T USING THEM... Oh wait. There was a screen brightness setting. Adjusting the brightness level to the lowest possible setting, Lightwards looked up again at the giggling Funtimes and the solemnly staring Altermind. "Thank you, Altermind," he told the illusionist stiffly. "For your aide to the Empire you will be lavishly rewarded when the rest of this state comes under my control." Pfft. He's going STRAIGHT to the allosaurs when I topple Thoughttown. "Are there any other points on the agenda to consider?" he continued, privately forming a list of potential allosaur fodder. "I have a fortress to close down for the night." Stifling a yawn as she finished her last postscript, Sam slightly held up the clipboard for the dictator to see. As she waited for him to read her response, she subtly peered around the board to view the table. Funtimes was giggling and nodding her head like the psychotic slontze she was. Lightwards was glaring and grumbling under his breath as he fiddled with the phone he'd been given. Revolution seemed to have grown bored and was making goo goo eyes at a cute Thoughttown guard across the table, who seemed mildly conflicted by the attention. Altermind's illusion was sitting stoically as usual, staring impassively at his fellow-- Altermind vanished. Sam felt her eyes widen in shock, quickly glancing about in search of him. He was completely gone. He'd cancelled the illusion entirely. But why...? Sam's slid downwards, staring into the glossy table top. Faintly reflected therein was the shadow of a face. A face that loomed right over her shoulder. She immediately jumped in her seat, twisting around to look behind her. And for just a fraction of a second, He was a scrawny young man with thin straw-colored hair atop his head. There was a gross mole-looking thing on his neck, and he was just as short as she was. But the most striking image in the second she saw him was his face. His face was average in appearance, but completely contorted with rage and shock. His teeth bared like a beaten dog. His eyes were wide and torn somewhere between complete bewilderment and murderous hatred. Under all the illusions Altermind looked like a normal guy, but that face was utterly inhuman. The man disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared, and the fake Altermind at the dinner table resumed his position. Sam turned back towards the table, heart pounding. She'd turned off Altermind's illusions. No idea how, but she had. Every Epic had a weakness, and something she'd written had triggered his. She jumped yet again when the pen raised in the air, picked up by Altermind's illusions. Her eyes weakly turned to Funtimes, who hadn't seemed to have noticed anything. Sparks. He's going to kill me now, she thought, drops of sweat on her forehead. He can put that pen right through my eye socket in a second. Sparks. Sparks sparks sparks... It was hard not to give an audible gasp of relief as the pen instead struck the paper, scrawling a new message onto the clipboard. Once he was done and the pen clipped back to the board, she read his note. You ungrateful little swine. Even under the circumstances, Sam smiled weakly at that. She'd touched quite the nerve, apparently. You'll regret this one day. You'll wish you had joined me and especially that you had at least been kind. I'll see you again soon, Samantha. Don't forget me. She faintly heard the sound of footsteps behind her, presumably as the real Altermind walked closer to his fake. Her relief turned to another round of surprise as her mother appeared beside her. Her mother appeared in an instant, clearly an illusion. But she was on her knees, her hands cupped around her eyes as deep sobs shook through her body. Her face was bruised and cuts covered her body. And she was sobbing. Sobbing her eyes out, suffering in her own unquiet misery. Sam closed her eyes, wishing she could do the same with her ears. Storm it, why'd he have to pick this to show her? The sound that still plagued her nightmares some nights. Mom crying. Dad yelling. Her eyes opened again, darting first to the picture of her weeping mother and then to the fake Altermind. The man looked more fake than before now; his face was vaguely the same, but everything else was different. He was tall. He was muscular. He was tan. He was handsome, and that ugly birthmark was gone altogether. He was so fake he was almost absurd. Pushing down the anger and the bad memories, Sam tore off the page she'd written on the clipboard. Lucentia and that cheesy magician Epic were already looking at her with unhealthy interest. If she were going to get to use the information it held, she'd need to keep it away from them. 'Don't forget me,' Altermind had said. Oh, I won't, Sam thought to herself, folding the paper and putting it down her shirt. This is when you threatened my mother and showed me how to kill you in the same evening. I am never forgetting this night.