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Post by Viking Dong on Sept 15, 2009 16:12:21 GMT -5
Thxee mcgee.
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Post by egyptiandong on Sept 15, 2009 17:48:42 GMT -5
This is so orsum.
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Post by sascrotch on Sept 16, 2009 20:11:19 GMT -5
toitr
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Post by Conan Dong on Sept 21, 2009 15:28:35 GMT -5
olo
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Post by Viking Dong on Sept 29, 2009 7:21:29 GMT -5
After days of traveling at a hard pace, the Argent City loomed before him at last. Standing on the last hill before the descent into the plains surrounding the city, the sight never failed to take his breath, even after so many, many years. Built into the side of a solitary, colossal mountain, it was a grand spectacle; a plethora of white towers soared to the sky, and the layer of seven walls soared with them. Even from his distance, he could make out tiny figures amongst the terraced portions of the city, traversing through the many winding, paved roads the snaked around more buildings than he had ever cared to count. Smoke lifted from thousands of chimneys, and he could just barely make out the sounds of festivities floating across the plains.
He shook himself. This was no time to gawk, especially at nothing new; there was work to be done.
It took the better part of an hour to finally reach the outskirts, the large number of farms and villages that surrounded city out in the plains. Dusk was near to falling, and the sounds merriment hung thick in the air. The Grand Dalf could not feel their festiveness. At every hail and offered pint and pipe, he merely waved them away, smiled, nodded, and commenced towards the gates. There was no time for gaiety on this night.
Eventually he had to push and shove his way through the merry-making, but at long last he stood before the gates of the grand city of Arthemae.
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Post by Viking Dong on Sept 29, 2009 7:44:59 GMT -5
As the Grand Dalf made his way through the city, he let some of his burdens slip away from his mind and remembered the first time he saw the city and walked through its streets. He was a lad, then, a wizard in training at the Magistorium. The city was imposing and intimidating, with so many streets, shops, inns, taverns, estates, and, above all, the walls. Wherever he went, it seemed he was always in sight of one of the seven walls; and even if he wasn't, he felt their presence regardless. He got lost so many times, back then. He smiled to himself, and the width of his smile doubled when saw one of his favorite old taverns. It was custom for him to stop there every time he entered the city, and he could not even begin to count the number of times he had woken up severely hungover in the back alley behind it.
He shook his head sadly, though. There simply was not enough time, not even for a quick pint. He made his way through the throngs of merry people - as night was falling, the feasting and partying was increasing. Everywhere there was music, singing, dancing, and laughter, and around every corner came a wagon carrying humongous barrels of ale and wine, waiting to be tapped for the night. Already his sharp nose was picking up the scents of various smokes. He glanced involuntarily towards the northwest sector - aptly nicknamed The Sky-High Sector - and the towering building the dominated its center. The Arthemae Bongitorium was the second largest structure in the city, but it was easily the most popular. If there was a type of grass one wished to smoke, it be there. There truly was no question about it.
The Grand Dalf patted his smoke pouch in the of many folds of his gray robe. His cabashi was running nearly empty. He would send for some more to replenish his pack.
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Post by Viking Dong on Sept 30, 2009 9:53:34 GMT -5
The Grand Dalf was starting to lose hope after the what was likely the hundredth scroll he had browsed through. The cabashi in his pipe had long been cold, and it hung limp in his mouth. Next to the stacks of papers and books, a half full pint of stale ale lay untouched for hours. He grimaced at his current scroll: Herbs of Magickal Properties and Associated Apparatus Vol. 2. The Arthemae Bongitorium did not lack for information on smoking; but nowhere did he come across anything even remotely close to Billy Bo's bong. "I know there must be something.... somewhere... where have I heard of that bong before...?" he muttered to himself. The door behind him creaked open, and one of the servitors, a portly, jolly man named Ramun, came in with another pile of scrolls. "Here you go, my friend. I've found some more." He stopped when he noticed that the candles were nearly extinguished, and his food, drink, and pipe untouched. "Ah, Grand Dalf, must be intense, eh?" With a seemingly fluid movement, he relit two of the candles, and edged them away from their precariously close proximity to the papers. "Why the rush, friend? The papers are old, aye, but they'll still be here." The Grand Dalf shook his head. "The need is more dire than I had thought, or I would not have been here even now, Ramun." He quickly scanned the papers Ramun brought, none catching his immediate attention, just more of the same - except the last one, and essay called "The Relics of Kings & Gods" by Prince Dilornidil. The Grand Dalf's eyes widened in revelation. "Ramun!" The servitor jumped at the intensity of the wizard's exclamation. "This essay... does it discuss anything about a bong...? One with tremendous power?" The portly servitor scratched his head. Within his mind, Ramun had categorized and stored nearly all of the works in the Bongitorium. If there was something to be known in any of the books, scrolls, or tomes, he knew it, and knew it well. "Aye, Grand Dalf. Prince Dilornidil acquired a bong in the Great Wars. He goes into some detail about, I believe, and how he was attached somewhat to it." "What happened to it, Ramun? Do you know?" "Aye... the prince was slain, along with his caravan, when returning from the wars, victorious. A sad tale, that." Suddenly it all came back to the tall wizard, and he was sore afraid.
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Post by egyptiandong on Oct 2, 2009 8:14:32 GMT -5
Fucking Epic!!! Bongotarium for the fuck ya.
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Post by sascrotch on Oct 4, 2009 21:05:00 GMT -5
I think I had a mindgasm
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Post by Viking Dong on Oct 6, 2009 7:51:13 GMT -5
"And the bong, Ramun? What happened to the bong after Dilornidil's death?" The Grand Dalf asked impatiently. Ramun shook his head and shrugged. "It was lost. Various reports say different things, but they agree on at least one aspect, aye: he was slain near a river. They found his corpse in floating in the Pale Deer River, they say, but the bong that he spoke of in his journal was not to be found." The Grand Dalf's mouth went slack with horror. "Ramun, how would one be able to discern if a particular bong was, in fact, Dilornidil's?" The portly servitor hesitated. "Dalf, my old friend.... there can only be one reason you are asking. And from the look in your eyes, you know the answer." The Grand Dalf grimaced, and nodded. He didn't want to believe it. How could such simple, cheerful folk such as Frobbits come to possess one of the greatest weapons of the ancient world? "I must depart quickly, Ramun." The tall wizard embraced his friend, and sped towards Frobbiton with as much haste as he could summon.
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Post by egyptiandong on Oct 6, 2009 9:55:30 GMT -5
yay
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Post by sascrotch on Oct 9, 2009 0:06:39 GMT -5
hell to the fuck yes
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Post by Viking Dong on Oct 12, 2009 9:45:02 GMT -5
Thxee lads.
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Boone stumbled in through the door and into the lobby of Shag-End, still somewhat buzzed and feeling more than a little happy; the combination of Southport Ale and Cabashi was always a good one. He fumbled along the walls, searching for the lever that would supply fuel to lamps in the manor. After trying for a few minutes - and ultimately failing - he hazily decided to light a fire in the main living room. Upon entering the room, though, something was amiss. It was bright. Boone stared dumbly at the lit fireplace, and then yelped as a hand tightly grabbed his shoulder. "Boone!" "AHHHH!!!!" "Is it secret? Is it safe?!" rasped the Grand Dalf from behind him. "Holy shit!!!!!" Boone screamed.
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Post by egyptiandong on Oct 13, 2009 18:24:46 GMT -5
Lol humerouse
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Post by Conan Dong on Oct 15, 2009 15:43:04 GMT -5
Surely there will be a collection of the complete work once it is finished, yes?
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