(no subject)
it isn't my fault. i am world renown for how gentle i am to my player characters. as a dungeon master, i am basically an ewok. so small & fluffy, just so. & on top of things, today was the "lets be friends, build party unity, & establish the characters as forces within the city." & well, for seven hours, they were even doing it! they were being a party & having discussions instead of arguments! it was swell! & emma found out that xocatla is a bitch, but not that big of one. she's a diva is all! & then they confronted jadobe-dao perademenzhji, panarch of the jadobe-dao cabal, suzerain of the fading urth, lord of the boiling blood, shaman of the last thought, king of the world. & while they didn't really patch things up between the jadobe-dao cabal & the itsle-shatero cabal, they at least bought off emma's debt. then they sort of ran off with buck serjeant neville stocton roe & the rest of heathcliffe's irregulars, which i half-expected. i toss out these skeletons of a story, & wait to see what they latch on to. there was plenty a-brew! so far, so good! they even all got high on xitar together, & emma got laid. everybody is having a good time! so they mount up to go save sleeping hansel & grettle from the hecate! but man, before they even get close? chaos! but it wasn't my fault. by now, everyone knows not to say..."it." they should at least! but apparently not garrick. he not only said it, he went into the hallway, then turned the cornor, then opened the door. so now...he's broken.
always broken, forever.
always broken, forever.