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Member Since 19 Feb 2011
Offline Last Active Nov 23 2013 06:31 PM

Topics I've Started

Immortal Heart

16 July 2013 - 10:00 AM

~A broken piece written several years ago~


Charging through Oblivion, his horses with nary a breath, spectral flames in his eyes, his dark cloak billowing behind. He has no blood, no heart, no life. His horses are beasts of the dark. Clusters of chaos shatter as he tramples through, they scream in agony and sparkle in darkest light, reaching out to grapple his cloak. Wisps of plague fetter the dark hooves and erupt like sparks upon the cobbles of broken eternity. Pillars of broken promises amass before him, the shattered remains of his army stand before him. Beasts of his darkness crawl upon their dragging bellies to catch a glimpse, perhaps to feed.

The master brought flesh victims of plague, the choking rot of carrion drawing the belly crawlers forward at an astonishing speed. The plague devourers, as they came to be known, dragged themselves pathetically to the corpses and began to feast, viciously fighting over scraps.

"Ease, my pets, there is more than enough," The man uttered with a wispy, cold breath.

His voice was as the sound of a soldiers dying breath.

Scores of the Plague Devourers crawled forth, all of different sizes, As they gorged themselves, the essence of death gathered like vapors from the now ravaged corpses, creeping across the floor with dreaded whispers. Mindless soldiers of decay rose, animated by the strings of chaos. Slowly, they added themselves to the ranks, weeping children scurrying aside as they shambled forth. The tears of plague children fed the darkness, holding the seams of their pocket of existence together.

The women of the ranks slowly deteriorated into nothing. From the bowels of their essence, their being twisted into the vaporous forms of banshees, their screams echoing through the void to haunt the living. Their shapes twisted and curled into itself, movement never ceasing. Now free from their mortal shells, they fly all over the sky wailing their misery, gaseous clouds trailing behind.

Having fed his pets, the man began to walk towards the broken spires. As he approached the rubble, the scattered pieces enveloped in dark clouds and hovered before him, arranging themselves to scale upward, the pieces all a mans pace apart. The man stepped upon them without hesitation or thought. The makeshift stairs led him upward toward the darkened sky. A ledge, of sorts, appeared through the clouds, it's likeness of black ice, sparkling and glittering, yet black beneath. The man stopped.

"So..." he mused loudly, seemingly to the air around him.

As he spoke, a portion of the ledge in front of him rippled like goo. It manipulated itself and built its own form, stretching out of the ledge and spreading out and upward. It reshaped into a complex mass of black ichor. It was solid, yet it rippled like goo. The man touched a bony finger to the surface, and a young man emerged, half his body still contained within the goopy mass. His body emanated a soft, golden glow that suddenly illuminated the ledge. Banshees nearby screamed as his hansom face emerged. They flew by him wailing, circling him like vultures.

"John, wasn't it?" the man asked as he starred at his captive.

"Where's Eva?" John uttered breathlessly.

"You're mortal wife is dead," the man stated gruffly.

"She is NOT mortal! Where-"

"The one called 'Eva' is dead," he held out a wedding band and dropped it in front of John's face, "I warned you."

John's eyes widened as he starred unblinkingly at the ring. It was unmistakably Eva's. The man smiled as John's frow wrinkled, his eyes producing tears.

"I told you she would be the one to die if you didn't cooperate with me."

"Beast! Monster! Abomination! How could you destroy something so pure?!" John sputtered through his tears, "Do you hold NOTHING sacred? Do the bonds of love mean nothing to you?! I swear, I will tear you asunder! I will expose your dark, diseased inerds to the light, and be there a heart within your rotting corpse, I'll take it as a trophy! I WILL AVENGE MY WIFE AND ONLY YOUR CORPSE WILL DO!!"

A silence fell between them, excluding the constant wails of the banshees above. For a long moment, the man said nothing.

"Are you through?" he finally asked.

"I will only be through when you are run through my blade!"

The man almost seemed to roll his eyes, if he had any, and let out a mild, groan-like rasp from his throat.

"You immortals and your 'soul-mate' obsessions and your 'holier-then-thou' attitude. Don't you realize that if you don't care...nothing can hurt you? I mean really," the man started to chuckle, "the only thing separating you from mortals is 'I' and 'M'."

The man apparently found this very amusing and proceeded to laugh at his own joke. John burned inside.

"To exist without caring would make a hollow existence," John whispered.

The man at last calmed himself.

"You've put me in a good mood, so lets have a little fun. There's a vortex that is very punctual with it's appearances around here. Care to guess where it leads to?"

John said nothing, but started to feel the mass around him turning back to goo.

"On the other side," he continued, "is a path to your sanctuary, through the chaotic springs of battle and drifting tides that create out our middle ground."

"I will NOT run from the likes of you!" John sputtered as he started to pull against the goop, feeling the substance pulling back.

John grunted as he pulled and strained through the goo, his flesh stinging like the substance had tiny hooks all over, pulling his back, denying his freedom.

'ignore the pain, ignore the pain...' he chanted in his mind as he fought, 'sweet Eva...' He pulled harder. The pain increased, but he also felt his body pulling away. He began to focus on his torso, pushing his body forward.

All of a sudden, one of his arms thrusted forward, free of restriction. One of his armlets flew off and skidded across the icey-black ledge. The man, who had been watching with interested, grabbed John's arm in a flash and thrust it back deep into the goopy mass. With the other hand, he pushed John's other arm deeper. John's head and part of his chest were all that emerged now, his head the only thing free to move. He struggled against the man, but now his arms were in so deep, there was nothing he could do.

"NO-O-O-O!!!" John screamed in open defiance, his eyes filled with burning hatred.

"Oh, come now, wouldn't your 'sweet Eva' want you to make it out of here? To fight me with all your strength and power of the 'holy' light?" the man taunted.

The man put his relaxed palm before John's face.

"I am all powerful here. I shape and control EVERYTHING here."

The man flipped his palm upwards, then began to focus. The surrounding darkness immediately was sucked into his hand. It swirled with false light and ominous clouds. John became transfixed, the swirling like the formation of a star within the palm of this twisted corpses hand. The man slowly brought his face down to Johns level, and taking a sickening rasp that was apparently a breath, he blew the cloud into John's face. The cloud forced it's way into his mouth and nostrils. He coughed heavily, the pestilence resting in and infecting his insides. Blood began choking it's way up his throat as he wheezed. His golden glow faded dramatically as his body began to feel heavy and weak.

The goop encasing his began to recede, leaving him face down on the cold ledge. He felt sick and weak, but something told him he had to move, and he had to do it NOW. He struggled to get himself to his feet, stumbling as he lifted himself.

The man glanced up as John steadied himself, "Right on time," he said casually.

John looked up and saw a violent vortex overhead. It was filled with twisting light, both false and true. It was the way home, the way to Eva. She was waiting for him...wasn't she? No, she HAD to be!

He spread his wings and pushed off the ground with impressive force. He beat his wings hard and fast. The screams of banshees made his ears ring. They were chasing him. They grabbed and pulled at his pure white and gold garments. They pulled hard, slowing his rise. He watched as the vortex began to close. Fear engulfed his heart. In defiance and desperation, he reached towards the light swirling within the vortex and drew upon it. He pulled the light to his hand and formed a sword. It was weak, but enough. Crying out with vengeance, John hacked away the wisped forms holding him at bay and beat his wings with all his strength, pushing him through the vortex to the other side and disappearing to freedom.

Far beneath him, still watching from the ledge, the man started laughing.

"Well, I'll be damned, he made it!"

He turned to a woman laying on her side, obviously plague-ridden and in agony. She had been hidden by the sickly clouds hanging about the surface of the ledge. The shroud lifted off her and wisped away. She lay motionless, her haggard breath loud and pitiful.

"What do you think he'll say when he finds out you're still alive?"


~End Prologue~

Issue with NPC-NPC dialogues not firing

11 February 2013 - 08:41 AM

Tob, new game, NPC-NPC banters not firing, though NPC-PC dialogues are. I tried forcing dialogue by advancing "Real Time" and game time. nothing. I noticed sometimes the triggers get "stuck" and you can "un-stick" them by initiating dialogue directly with a character and the most recent dialogue will fire (NPC-NPC, not initiated dialogue) Even this little trick isn't working. Is compatibility to blame here or is there other possible reasons for this?

(didn't bother listing my mods, nobody knows ALL the incompatibilities, so why bother, right?)

NPC: Caoco

18 January 2013 - 10:03 AM

NAME: Caoco


GENDER: Female


CLASS: Fighter (Possibly Berserker)


STATS: (Draft)

                STR: 17

                DEX: 16

                CON: 14

                INT: 15

                WIS: 10

                CHA: 13


Caoco…A vicious, Blood-thirsty killer…a chaotic and evil woman wandering seemingly aimlessly across Faerun. Her dark origins are as hidden as she can manage, her dark temperament not nearly as controlled.


Her origin…Born amidst the flames of Baator, she fled the city in youth and, with the help of her half-sister…found her way to the city of doors. From there she tells nothing, but that she eventually found her way to the Material Plane…Faerun. In her youth, she was scorned and feared, for her devilish wings and aura frightened many common folk. She retreated to the wilderness. There, she committed to plotting and fantasizing…her ‘half-sister’ and her ‘father’. There power and station barred her from the Nine Hells…and the power rightfully hers to share…but share she would not. One day she would over-throw them. One day, she would slaughter them…but over time she realized, why stop there? She could rise further. She could descend the layers of Baator and destroy everything…and with the right tools and enough power…usurp Asmodeus himself. The Nine Hells all to herself. Could it be possible to dethrone he who has never been dethroned? She fantasized it to no end.


A fools errend…ambition that would end in disaster. An insane proposition…but what if she could? What if she gathered all the power she could across the planes, all the allys she could muster, all she could grasp…could she do it?

Avernus, Dis, Minauros, Phlegethos, Stygia, Malgolge, Maladomini, Cania…Nessus.


But it would start in Phlegethos. Her father and “sister” would taste her wrath first and foremost. As far as Caoco was concerned, their time in power was limited. She just needed the means.


In order to find those means, she needed to blend in. Her wings…given to her from her Erinyes mother… were useful...but they were also cumbersome and reeked of brimstone no matter how much she washed them or tried to mask the odor. Finally, in desperation, she cut them off herself. She writhed in pain for days as she slowly cut through the bone, the difficulty unfathomable as she cut very nearly out of reach. At last, one by one they fell upon the ground. Through tears of pain, she smiled in triumph. Now she could walk among the mortals undetected and left to herself.


However, there was another sign she could not remove. Her…heels. Her birth defect. Her perfect imperfection. She had to hide it…but how?


In her mother’s womb, Caoco’s fibula overgrew. The back bone grew beyond the front and extended through her ankle and heel, protruding from the skin. As a result, she walked on the balls of her feet…and her bone as a makeshift heel. It was attempted to cut it off, but strangely it grew back…and continues to grow. Every now and again, Caoco has to cut the bone down to stop it from extending so far she can’t walk.


After long suffering in oversized boots, she found a solution. She found woman that wore strange shoes that were shaped just like her mutated feet. She commissioned these shoes to be made in a way to “sheath” the bone and be comfortably padded the front. They were fashioned to appear as boots, but inside, no normal foot could wear them, not even slip inside.

As Caoco wandered Faerun in search of all the power she could grasp, she eventually found the Sword Coast…rejoicing the end of some tyranical figure ended by someone named [CHARNAME] Intrigued, she pursued information about this one, this “Hero of the Sword Coast”. Through over a month of research, she found a rumor that excited her beyond anything she had found so far upon Faerun…there were whispered rumors that the hero was the child of a God…a dead god...


Fate must have guided her to this place, for this was the opportunity she had been seeking for years. The child of a GOD? This one’s power must have been immense…and a tool worthy of being wielded.


Immediately, Caoco made plans to seek this Child of Bhaal out, but soon found that her quarry had completely disappeared. Unwilling to let opportunity slide through her fingers so easily, she scrounged together everything she had and saught powerful mage to divine a location…but the divination failed. Over and over, she spent just about everything she had amassed in pursuit.

But all efforts were in vain…until one day…


So, that's what I have so far on concept design. I'm outlining her quest now, and still pondering over romance options. So, I wouldn't mind feedback, do you think it sounds a little extreme? Or any other comments.

uhm, yeah.

The Nine Hells

15 January 2013 - 01:41 PM

LOOKING FOR someone experienced in the ways of the Nine Hells, specifically dealing with Devils.


Need detailed information and opinions about society, social structure, hierarchy, and pretty much able to answer any questions I have.


REASON, building an NPC and quest line based off the Nine Hells, and unfortunately, the reference books I have available to me at this time do not cover what I need, (I have, for example, the Demonomicon (3.5) and the Monster Manuel (3.5))


I need someone who will NOT become irritated at many questions and on short notice, who will be willing to take in what I'm attempting and be able to answer cleanly what I would need to build around it.


Thank you.

Why isn't SoA showing up in my Tutu options at main menu?

13 January 2013 - 02:57 PM

Hey, topic title says it all, I have a full install of EVERYTHING, BG1+expansion, BG2+expansion, installed the full Tutu(with ToB version) but my main menu screen where you are supposed to be able to choose which game to play only displays BG1 TotSC, anyone know why my BG2 isn't showing up?


I've had Tutu in the past, never had this problem before.