GloryRhodes

The Screaming Never Stops {IC Post} Wednesday Oct 21, 2015 at 8CST. Something has happened at the South Shroud Landing, something horrible. Where once had been a thriving camp of Coeurlclaw poachers, now there is only blood washed away in a recent storm and pieces of Moon Keepers scattered among the foliage. There are rumors of something living in Rootslake now, something that does not belong. Sign Ups: 1) Leanne 2) Orrin 3) Klyn 4) Jana 5)

South Shroud Landing Khuma trembled, clutching the pale, featureless mask fastened tightly over her face. They were supposed to protect them. They were supposed to keep this from happening. From above, the rain continued to pour, beating a cold wet rhythm on her dirty leathers, soaking her bowstring to uselessness in the mud half a dozen fulms away. The masks protected them from woodsin. That's how they could live out here without fear. The masks collected the woodsin, and then they burned them and got new masks. They could live out here forever without even conjurers, that's what they'd said. That's what had been true. True until tonight. Bathu screamed; had been screaming; was still streaming. She wouldn't stop. Khuma refused to look and stayed hidden behind the tree, clutching her mask, praying to Menphina to make it end. The thing, the horrible thing screamed as well, howling in a hundred voices, each one different, unique, pained, but Khuma could still pick out Bathu's cries. "Help me! Someone help me!" She didn't move. The rain fell and the screaming continued, and she hid, terrified, shivering in the cold and the wet and the fear like an animal. On the other side of the tree something moved. Khuma froze. At the very corner of her vision a shape slithered across the ground towards her bow. Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't make a sound. The shape became a hand, an arm, a person. Bathu's fingers clawed down into the mud and she pulled herself along the ground, still screaming. Khuma stared, peering out through the darkened holes of her mask. Bathu's mask had fallen off, leaving her face bare and terrified. her eyes were crazed as she screamed again. "Help! Help me! Someone!" She was going for the bow, left discarded in the mud. or maybe she was just trying to get away, to put distance between her and that awful screaming thing that was even now moving on the other side of the tree, teeth crunching down on something wet and warm. Her fingers touched the bow, and she scrabbled for it wildly, flinging mud in every direction. Desperate, he clutched it and turned over onto her back. Her legs were stumps, taken off mid thigh by those impossible teeth in the screaming thing that had descended upon the camp. Bathu raised the bow, triumphant in death, and realized she had no arrows. Khuma had arrows. They dug into her back as she pressed harder against the tree, watching her sister. Then, despite her prayers, Bathu finally saw her. Their eyes met, and Bathu began screaming again. "Arrows! Give me an arrow! Help me! Khuma!" Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. It can hear you. It's coming shut up. Shut up and die. "An arrow! Give me an arrow!" She didn't move. She didn't say anything. She just looked at the ragged mess of bleeding meat where her sister's legs had been, and she shook her head. No. No shut up. Go away. Go away and die! Leave me alone! Bathu pleaded. She was crying. Even in the rain and the dark Khuma could see the tears in her eyes. She was begging, dying for an arrow. Then there was a snap; cracking bone. Bathu was lifted from the ground, bow still dangling from her hand, but her body had gone limp. She hung in the air, tears still streaming from her pleading eyes. "Why?" Then she was gone, and Khuma was alone. Almost alone. She clutched the mask tighter, holding in sobs. They were supposed to protect them. This wasn't supposed to happen as long as they had the masks. Then the thing came around the tree, and the screaming continued.

Catuar Blood. "Actually, this clear liquid is far closer to water than it is blood... except, that is, for the cactuar it is taken from. For him it is most definitely blood."

Don't forget the Plundered set from Dzemael Darkhold at 44. It's so piratey it comes with an achievment for wearing it all. It's also sellable on the market board, so you can snatch up a full set for 100k gil or so once you hit 44.

[align=center]Tonberry's Lantern would like to congratulate[/align] [align=center]Mr. Jameson Taeros of Ul'Dah[/align] [align=center]&[/align] [align=center]Miss Edda Eglantine of Gridania[/align] [align=center]upon the event of their[/align] [align=center]Engagement[/align] [align=center]Thought to be dead, Mr. Taeros has returned to society in order to take the hand of Miss Eglantine after becoming besotted of her advertisement for Bronco Storm. Friends and family are encouraged to send their regards in person to the Eglantine family estate at Summerford.[/align]

[align=center]BRONCO GREASE[/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]YOU DON'T NEED A BEARD[/align] [align=center]WHEN YOU'RE WITH A BEAR[/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

[align=center]BRONCO GREASE[/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]PLAYING WITH THE BOYS?[/align] [align=center]THE GREASE LUBES YOU UP![/align] [align=center]TAKE A POUNDING![/align] [align=center]WITH BRONCO GREASE![/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

“This ain’t workin’, Thya.” “Hush it, Pahja. Hush it tight.” “It ain’t!” The shadow gestured towards the whimpering chocobo. She lay in the grass under the darkness of The Shroud at night, Menphina’s light blotted out by towering, oppressive trees whose branches reached over the ground below, imprisoning the pair of women. “Look at ‘er! She’s done gone bad just like all the others.” “Hush it or you’ll be talkin’ out of a mouth in your neck.” “Them damn Gridanians don’t know nothin’ ‘bout raisin’ chocobos, Thya. They’s all sick, every one.” The bird let out a warbling cry of pain, and the second shadow turned back to her, hissing. “They can’t all be sick, Pahja, that ain’t possible. We’re gonna get some, and we’re gonna-” “Gonna what?” The first shadow gestured wildly around them at the night, empty of sound and light. “This job’s a bust! Every time we snatch one she gets sick. They probably got what the one had, the one what went under the knife that first night. It’s spreadin’ the sick around to all of ‘em. We got nothin’!” The second shadow stood, and the thick bladed raptor claw gauntlets she wore flexed, “I said you shut it, Thya. Last thing I need is some loudmouth givin’ away our position like ya did last time! We barely made it outta that mess with our skins intact.” “Oh shite, ya bringin’ that up again? You saw ‘em. We took ‘em apart. You saw that shot, whoosh. Right inta that hyur’s chest. Dropped like nothin’. We weren’t caught, they wasn’t even Wailers.” “They was adventurers, you bloody arse. And they’s a hell of a sight more dangerous than Wailers. We got lucky lucky.” “All’s the more to cut and run then!” The first shadow snapped, her fingers tightening on her bow. “We been at this a moon and we ain’t got nuthin’ to show. These birds is sick. Ain’t no money sellin’ sick birds. We gotta do somethin’ else, Thya. We gotta do it quick.” The clawed shadow tensed, and for a moment the pair stared at each other, both bowstring taut, sizing each other up. Then the clawed one stepped back, and they both relaxed. “Yeah, Phaja, yeah. Maybe you got a point. This ain’t workin’. But Twelve in a hole, this was a bloody goldmine! Curse our luck!” ‘You got that right,” the first shadow said. “We shoulda known ain’t no way Gridanians is raisin’ chocobos, not in The Shroud. Them birds ain’t built for it! They live up there with them dragons I heard.” “Fine, fine, we move out. Ain’t no call for stayin’ ‘round here no longer. More adventurers gonna be comin’ up quick, and I don’t wanna be here when they get here.” “Where we goin, Thya?” “I been hearin’ rumors, Phaja. Rumors ‘bout someone needin’ some good hunters. Best hunters. Lookin’ for some special kind of hunt. I’m thinkin’ we’re just the girls for that, ya think so?” There was a flash of white teeth in the dark, “I think we might just be, Thya. Come on.” In a few moments the shadows had faded into the pervading darkness of the forest, and all was silent except for the sick chocobo, crying out in pain as it convulsed, the sickness slowly running its course through it as it had all the others.

[align=center]VICTORY![/align] [align=center] [/align]

[align=center]THE LEGEND CONTINUES[/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]BRONCO GREASE![/align] [align=center]This weekend only, behold the majesty of BRONCO GREASE in action! Only at the Grindstone can you see Bronco sponsored fighters emerge triumphant from the flames of conflict![/align] [align=center]DRINK BRONCO![/align] [align=center]DRINK VICTORY![/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

Water sloshed over the side of the tub and Xanadu shifted to reach for another letter. The past week had been quite adventurous, and in the process of so much violence and dramatic action she'd gotten behind on her paperwork. Normally bathing time was kept for personal relaxation, reflection and a general unwinding, but she was now forced to bring work along with her. This letter was a politely worded anti-invitation. It was one of the rare etiquettes of Ishgardian society for which she was one of the few regular recipients. Miss Mol, I must regretfully inform you that your presence is not required at the ball Saturday night. The chef has gone ill and cannot possibly feed all of those members of society which might wish to attend. In this time of dire need we have chosen to allow other culinarians to support the war effort rather than take away from the front the food that fuels our warriors in their righteous cause. It is with this in mind that we have also spared you the social necessity of attending in deference to your position that you too may continue your holy work unfettered by the responsibilities of society. Sincerely, Lady Lorianne Montesque Xan scoffed and held the letter over a nearby candle. She was in the habit of burning all of her mail. "She is still bitter about the finger, isn't she? It was eventually reattached. What a petty woman to hold such a grudge." Honestly, Xanadu was rarely invited to any parties, and was quite often, as was the case with Lady Montesque's, avidly encouraged not to attend. Sometimes she envied those in The Brume who didn't have to worry about the venom and spite of the higher born, but never for long. Being starving poor did not incline their mood much towards tolerance, just changed the target of their hatred. To the upper crust Xanadu was an abomination, to the lower classes she was an oppressor. There really wasn't much of anyone in Ishgard who particularly cared for her company even in her own house. "Carmine," she called, slouching deeper into the water. In a moment a young Hyur servant with broad shoulders and a slightly crooked nose appeared in the doorway. Xanadu didn't bother looking up, "Bring me paper and pen, and a dangerous looking spider, would you? In a jar, please, you know how I am about bugs." "A letter for Lady Montesque, Miss?" Xanadu smiled and glanced up at him, "You are ever an observant man, Carmine. Whatever would I do without you?" "Walk around nude and be unable to find a thing for yourself, miss." He bowed his head. "Ah, but that would be a scandal, wouldn't it? Perhaps I should, one day; allow them to count my scales to sate their curiosity." "A dignified response, miss." "Quite. Go on then, Carmine." He exited once more, and Xanadu reached for the next letter. This one informed her that the stolen Ishgardian steel had been returned, and that at least some portion of the stolen Ul'Dahn goods that had been discovered in the pirate's airship was on its way back to the merchant princes of the desert. That, at least, was settled, though she was no closer to her goals now than she had been when she'd started on this foul adventure. The next letter was a bill for damages to an airship, Halone's Teats. She sighed and tossed it aside before slipping lower into the water. Well, there went her portion of the take. With this she'd be lucky to break even. "Carmine!" she shouted. "Pray, do catch the spider and don't go buying one. I fear that finances may be tighter than I'd like and we can't go about wasting our money on designer arachnids."

Maaaaaaan... Fuck this bitch...

[align=center]BRONCO GREASE[/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]IN THE JUNGLE[/align] [align=center]THE MIGHTY JUNGLE[/align] [align=center]THE BRONCO NEVER SLEEPS[/align] [align=center]ON SALE EVERYWHERE![/align] [align=center]5 GIL A BOTTLE![/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

[align=center]BRONCO GREASE![/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]A FANTASY WORLD OF PURE IMAGINATION[/align] [align=center]A FORGOTTEN MEMORY OF A LOST LOVE[/align] [align=center]THE WARM EMBRACE OF YOUR OWN HANDS[/align] [align=center]BRONCO GREASE[/align] [align=center]ON SALE AT THE GRINDSTONE[/align] [align=center]5 GIL A BOTTLE[/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

by Spahro Llorn As many readers might not be aware, I, Spahro Llorn, am a Moon Keeper who was raised away from The Shroud. I have always held a place in my heart for the traditions of my people, and have sought them out in order to better understand my roots. I was not aware that my good faith and desire to be closer to my kin could prove so nearly fatal. Several moons ago I approached the Shroudwolf Clan, who I had met through a mutual acquaintance and was on good relations with, and I explained my desire to get closer to my cultural heritage. I offered them my services as a journalist in exchange, and they readilly took me up on my offer. Miah Polaali of the Morbolvine Clan held an intense hatred for the Shroudwolves, and Kiht Jakkya, matriarch of the Shroudwolf, asked me to gather information on her. She'd been making legitimate threats, and they wanted to know how dangerous the woman was. I agreed, knowing that if the stories being told by the Shroudwolves were true I would be putting myself at considerable risk were I to be found out. I approached the Morbolvine and, over the course of a moon, became friends with Miah Polaali. While the picture the Shroudwolves painted was not entirely inaccurate, she seemed unconcerned with them. She was a polite, friendly woman with a kind demeanor, a welcoming home and while she had a few secrets, none seemed to fit the image of the evil sorceress painted by the paranoia of the Shroudwolves. I told Kiht and Sanja this when next I saw her. I told them that I was safe, and had not been discovered, and that they had nothing to fear. While Miah seemed an exceedingly dangerous woman who held grudges, she was targeting them at others instead of herself. The Shroudwolves were safe. In return for my service, I asked only for the honor of being named a huntress for putting myself on the line as an undercover operative, and a single bowl of stew. With a smile these were granted to me by Kiht. In a ceremony before the entire clan I was presented with a dagger, a token of their trust in me and their thankfulness for the duty I had served at risk to my own life. A few weeks later Senna Polaali, a Shroudwolf member, dragged me outside and beat me for daring to touch another of their members. I had taken her hand to give her a dancing lesson. Kiht, of course, disapproved of this, and of Senna's agitation of a mentally unstable member of their clan, Nauta. She promised to look into this and assured me that I was still welcome, though perhaps I should give it a few weeks to let tensions calm. I did that. I present here, a full transcription of the events leading to my attempted murder by Senna Polaali and Nauta. I entered the Shroudwolf estate where several guests were in attendance in order to speak to Kiht about some business. I was immediately rushed by Senna. Senna: "You!" Spahro: "Me?" Senna: "You!" Nauta: "I'm going to murder her!" Senna: "I'm dragging you outside, and then I'm going to-" Spahro: "Wait!" Then, fearing that were I to go outside I would be set upon and beaten again, I fled to an inner room of the home and hid. I was quickly found by Sanja, Senna and Nauta. Nauta then stabbed me with her spear. I am not a fighter. I have never done violence upon another person in my life. I am unarmed and unable to defend myself from trained combatants. Still, for no reason I could discern, I was stabbed with two feet of sharpened steel at the end of a pole. I fell, bleeding, to the floor as Sanja disarmed Nauta while Senna continued to make threats. Sanja treated my wounds, Nauta assaulted me yet again, this time as I was defenseless, strangling me. Senna, for her part, attempted to take my outside again, I assume to finish the job and not mess up the floors, as those were her exact words, but she did so by dragging me, wounded, by the throat. I had, to my knowledge, done the Shroudwolf no wrong. It was my understanding that I had in fact done a service and was, in Kiht's own words, "Always welcome." I was mistaken. I posed no threat to anyone. I was unarmed. I was not given the option to leave. No duel was called, no grudge explained. Senna Polaali and Nauta Lyehga attempted to murder me. It was only through the intervention of Shroudwolf matriarchs that I survived. The Shroudwolf is currently under investigation by the Wood Wailers regarding this incident, but I would like to stress to all citizens of Eorzea that it was Senna Polaali and Nauta Lyehga that, with no provocation, tried to take my life. Whatever else you may here regarding this incident in the future, those are the facts.

I'm in! (Late)

[align=center]INSPIRED BY THE TWIN ADDERS[/align] [align=center]BRONCO VENOM[/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]FEEL THE SNAKEBITE ENTER YOUR VEINS![/align] [align=center]FEEL THE POWER OF VENOM![/align] [align=center]FEEL LIKE DEATH ITSELF![/align] [align=center]ON SALE AT THE GRINDSTONE![/align] [align=center]7 GIL A BOTTLE[/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

[align=center]Dubious Distributions Presents[/align] [align=center]A New Sensation[/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]Not Every Warrior Fights[/align] [align=center]On the Battlefield[/align] [align=center]Energy when you need it[/align] [align=center]Energy for what you need it for[/align] [align=center]BRONCO TEMPTATION[/align] [align=center]Passion in a bottle[/align] [align=center]6 GIL[/align] [align=center]ON SALE AT DATE AUCTIONS[/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

Page 6 Thread Summary: Question posed: Should a person that is mentally deficient be allowed to roleplay a person of intelligence, or is their implicit stupidity too egregious a flaw to allow such behavior? For the question: Wit is an inherent ability which cannot be faked and which must be presented in detail in order for it to be taken seriously. The deficient cannot do this therefore their attempts are invalid and disruptive. Against the question: People, despite any deficiency should be allowed to do as they wish, and there are methods for faking wit which must be considered before dismissal. Uncomfortable assumptions: The posters for assume that they are not mentally deficient, and that their judgement of others to be less intelligent than they is reliable. The posters against suppose that the mentally deficient do not have the responsibility to be accepted, but rather that the intelligent have the responsibility to be accepting. Unanswered questions: What is the definition of "dumb"? What is the definition of "witty"? Who is qualified to pass judgement as to what is acceptable and what is not? When judgement is passed, who is the gatekeeper to prevent such behavior? Why is the posed question important, and whose opinion determines the value of the discussion posed?

So, are you thinking you're one of the ones who are witty? Because that is not what I'm taking away here. You just made two posts in a row. whhhhy It feels spammy with the way I learned to post in forums THERE'S AN EDIT BUTTON~~~~ YOU CAN EDIT THE QUOTES YOU QUOTE FORUM POSTING IS NOT ENGINEERING QUOTE TREES!

A nose upturned, "What faith have I?" In banter found displeasing to my eye. For tis but with wit and clever words That the intelligence of men is heard! He comes to me, foul stinking wretch To curry my favor with honeyed breath. "Pardon me lady," he doth intone "Wouldst thou wish to ride my bone?" Tis these encounters with peasants thick That turns my stomach and makes me sick. "Tis wit, tis wit!" I explain so proud And set my gaze upon distant clouds. If only they could join me here In favored winds and skies so clear You can see to far and distant lands Free of grubby, clawing hands. Alas it remains that they cannot In muck and mire their wit is caught. Live there down below the gods Cowering, quivering, sniveling clods. Rochester is and Rochester be Forever above that roiling sea. But hark! They gaze upon my light And dream, yes dream, someday of flight!

[align=center]NEW FROM DUBIOUS DISTRIBUTIONS[/align] [align=center]BRONCO ICE[/align] [align=center][/align] [align=center]DRINK BRONCO![/align] [align=center]KILL A DRAGON![/align] [align=center]ON SALE AT THE GRINDSTONE[/align] [align=center]10 GIL A BOTTLE[/align] [align=center]A PORTION OF THE PROCEEDS GO TO SUPPORT OUR BRAVE FRIENDS IN ISHGARD IN THE DRAGONSONG WAR[/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

[align=center]FRESH FROM THE FRONT![/align] [align=center]INSPIRED BY THE FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN OF THE IMMORTAL FLAMES![/align] [align=center]BRONCO FLAME![/align] [align=center] [/align] [align=center]BEAT THE HEAT![/align] [align=center]BEAT THE GARLEANS![/align] [align=center]BEAT WHOEVER YOU WANT![/align] [align=center]ON SALE AT THE GRINDSTONE![/align] [align=center]7 GIL A BOTTLE![/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

[align=center][/align] [align=center]BRONCO GREASE![/align] [align=center]WORK WITHOUT REST![/align] [align=center]FINISH THAT PROJECT![/align] [align=center]STAY UP ALL NIGHT LONG![/align] [align=center]ON SALE AT THE GRINDSTONE![/align] [align=center]5 GIL A BOTTLE![/align] [align=center]Dubious Distributions is not responsible for any adverse physical, mental or aetherial effects caused by consumption of Bronco Grease Energy Tonic. Questions as to the ingredients of Bronco Grease will be met with rhetoric and evasiveness. Drink at your own risk. [/align]

Spahro is in detention for smoking behind the school building and writing WHORE on Edda's locker.