Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Apr 5, 2017 18:00:05 GMT
Her guild had been licked.
Or so it seemed, they were downright.... dead. The ships were either out - indefinitely; or they were docked - indefinitely;
All because of the seize thanks to that good for nothing Sveden war. Well not anymore, she was going to drag her hibernating scalawags out of bed if she had to do it one by one. Starting with this “one”. The mistress who owned the Salty Dog pub. And if she wasn’t mistaken, she bet she could find more than one BOR holed up in that joint.
Caitlin hastened to the shoreline, and down the boardwalk till she reached the familiar haven. The door chimed as she pushed her way through and was met with a full house. She scanned the room casually as she cut her way to the bar to find Rava.
Calling all BOR! Lets reignite this fire! and get our blue-butts back on the map
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
evey since the hist Rava has had her head down working to keep attraction off the docks and all that could have been bad , she had only recently lost one asset she once had but at lest things seemed to have calmed down ever since the curfew was lifted and busyness was back in full swing. however one of the people she was not expecting to see was Cait as she busted through the door and made a b-line towards her , Rava had a feeling she was in trouble as she poured out a drink for Cait and greeted her "ah hay Cait, its been a while ? since the hist ... am only guessing i did something? " she asked having the feeling stuff was about to go down
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Apr 9, 2017 12:05:09 GMT
Thrakazog groaned, then sniffled, and then hesitated, before sneezing into an old rag he had held in one hand. His other hand held a soup spoon, which seemed only reasonable for two reasons: it manipulated the inexpensive lunch from its bowl to his mouth, and the soup was the only thing he really wanted when he felt this way.
What was 'this way', one might ask? He didn't have a cold - oh, no. Colds were annoying, but fairly straightforward. They lasted two to eight days, and then they were over. He might have caught a cold once or twice in a ten year period. That was something anyone could deal with, really.
No... this was the beginning of allergy season. All of the same symptoms, with none of the relief until Spring was over.
Oh sure... there were ways to mitigate the discomfort. Doctors prescribed 'nettie pots' to cleanse the sinuses. Others suggested teas for their healing properties. Still others tried simple masks in front of the face, figuring if pollen can't get to your insides, then you couldn't be affected. But it wasn't just a breathing issue - it was on the skin, in the pores, and in the eyes. It found its way in, and the only relief, over the years, was for Thrak to be shipped out to sea on a voyage. Yes, pollen got out there too, but not nearly as intensely. It made Spring bearable. Sadly, with the war, 'shipping out' was not really happening this year.
Thrakazog sniffled once more, blew his nose into the rag again, but felt no better than he had in the past couple of days.
Then his beloved Captain walked into the establishment, passing almost within arm's reach as she headed to the bar, to engage the tender. Well - within Thrakazog's arm's reach, anyway. But he couldn't muster the energy to actually lift that arm to greet her properly. Instead, he blathered out, "Ug dere, Cap'un. Whatchoo doin'?" And that, was followed by a somewhat gruesome sounding snort in a vain attempt to clear his throat.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Apr 15, 2017 18:25:22 GMT
Cait blinked at Rava.... which was curiously in sync with Thrak's sneeze. "I don't know... DID you do something, Rava, that I should know about?" She looked the other woman over, head to --- well waist where the bar cut the rest of her off from view. She seemed as per usual. No suspicious hobbling, no added defects (other than the one's that Cait knew to exist already, like her eye). "I'm here to collect my guild. We're done hiding. How many have you got hanging around your pub these days?" She glanced over at mr. sniffles in his corner, looking miserable as he hovered over a bowl of soup. "And please tell me they're not all under-the-weather"... She waved to the big man in response to his greeting, hoping she could signal him over if he could muster the effort.
Though to be honest, that would be a great excuse for why they weren't all hunting her down to curb their restlessness. A flu flying around would excuse their lack of ambition lately..... her's too... she thought in a quiet voice, holding it close to herself, not wanting to be found lacking in her own capacity.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
"no other then a few bits ... mostly personal things" Rava explained as she stood up straight as she answered her question with honesty "well i know we got our normal group who drink here, we also have Thrakazog over there " Rava said as she pointed him out " as for the others i have not heard a thing for the most part every since at the hist at the palace , everyone just been hiding under the raider as so not to get nabbed by the army and locked away " Rava sighed a bit as she tried to think where the others where.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on May 23, 2017 13:35:11 GMT
"That's a good reason," she conceded. Rescuing BoR members from the Army had proved very, very difficult - and costly. She'd had to do it twice now. She didn't want to go after a third.
But she was feeling restless. Blue... deflated. and She hated that feeling, like a caged bird. "We've got to do something, I think we've kept our heads in the sand long enough now. The Army has bigger things to think about besides their resident rogues. Its time we took advantage of the distraction."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on May 24, 2017 18:02:44 GMT
Thrakazog snerked and snorked. He wasnt' sure if Caitlin wanted him to head over to her or not, but if she didn't, he understood. In Lodan, the best policy to avoid being sick was the stay away from the sick. He himself usually stayed out to sea as much as possible to avoid sickness, but in this case, it wasn't 'sick' - it was simply allergies to the pollen. It didn't make it feel much better though, as Thrakazog affirmed by honking his nose into his napkin.
He finally decided that Cait might have a job for him that would do what he needed - send him out to sea - though he could hardly imagine how, with the war still going and the ports blockaded. So he got up (his soup bowl was empty anyway) and ambled over, managing a weak salute and a, "Ug dere, Cap'-un."
He thought he recognized the slight woman behind the bar, but couldn't remember her name, or where he knew her from. So he followed up with an, "And ug dere, youz. Tanks for da soup."
Then, back to Caitlin, "What yooze doin in heer, ma'am? Youz habbin' da lunch? Da soup's guud."
Fortunately, Lodan wasn't very dry for long - the pollen would get knocked down in the next rain, and rain was a regular occurrence around these parts.
"why do i feel you really want to do stuff " Rava said as she sighed "i mean i don't blame you you have been out of the loop for a while , but doing something big will redraw attention of the army back to us , and sure it during a difficult time other then having people hiding or missing . unless we find some sort of way to sneak out and go somewhere else and then come back when the war is over , i don't know how to avoid any more trouble " she explained as Rava nodded to the salior / fellow pirate after being thanked for the soup.
"so what do you have plan?" Rava asked knowing there no way around the question
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Jul 7, 2017 3:26:37 GMT
"We shouldn't be wholly concerned with avoiding trouble, or else we aren't doing our jobs justice then are we?" She asked Rava. Then on the heels of Thraks recommendation: The soup is good; she added, "I'll have the soup." with a smile.
"A pleasure to see you again, Thrak." she turned to the man in the stool, biding her time before she answsered Rava's last question. She'd have the soup first.
Then they'd discuss the next best thing. An inventors Fair. Rava and Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson were just the humans she needed to attend such a thing.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Jul 19, 2017 17:02:19 GMT
Thrak looked over at his Captain briefly, then grabbed his napkin, turned to the side, and blew his nose.
Well - most people 'blew their noses'. Thrakazog made a sound that would have put a braying steer to shame, and it caused a few patrons to look his way in startled surprise or horrific disgust. But the end result was that finally - thankfully - he could breathe again, at least for the moment. He guiltily closed his hand around the napkin, eliciting a quiet, squishing sound, and placed it on the bar next to his empty soup bowl before pushing the whole thing away from him.
"Sorry," he offered sheepishly, doubting that Rava would be accepting of the apology.
He then replied to them both, "Dere was dis guy, down on da docks dis morning, shouting how da 'war is over'. Is dat true? Is it 'finely' done? If so, mebee we nub hab to sneak out of Lodan at all - we kin just get back to da sea if we wants to."
He had no idea that Caitlin's next move was a trip to an Inventor's Fair, however.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Jul 20, 2017 15:11:32 GMT
Caitlin brim with a dazzling smile, despite the disgusting performance with Thrak's nose and that napkin.
"That's the word on the street, and I know when and where they'll announce if its true or not." She leaned in to further claim the other twos attention. "The inventors fair. Heard talk this morning that they were setting one up, and I think that the BOR have gone a bit soft in that department compared to the EIRALS who've no doubt built up their inventory with all Mingo's could crank out since the start of the war. We should definitely have a presence in this fair, and honestly..... that presence needs to be a pair of rogues who can physically handle these shiny new toys that'll be on display." She leaned back resting in her chair and hoping she'd made her point.
"So what'ya say? You two up for the task? Consider this a nice neat new field trip, and all that unspent loot we've been floating on the docks can go toward purchasing" - yes they were actually going to pay for once - "some upgrades."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
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