OOSM Story Night Participants

[Elmer]

This gathering was so much fun, I asked Poppygirl if she was ok with me sharing it. Enjoy .

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Trisha Pawm

So this is the story of "The Great One and the search we didn't know we were on!" This isn't a fabricated story or poem. More of a story from Ideocleasia.
There was a group of intrepid explorers and geologists in our city that had begun work with the Barrows and excavating some of the most beautiful gems in the city. You'd see them and imagine you saw your reflection ten times back they were so pretty and pristine!
Yes...I know they are Barrows but the best stuff is often hidden amongst the worst!

This intrepid group were digging and digging. On the hunt for the vein of gems that they had been searching for, for months
Rocks and dirt going everywhere as the team worked together to excavate areas other than graves. Gotta have some respect of course!
This group was on the last "Dig" of the evening when they discovered something truely remarkable and...not a gem.

More dusting and digging to uncover a golden name plate..."The Great One" etched into the otherwise perfect metal.

Those of the group whom were bold enough to open the casket..found what you would describe as "A Great One" At least ten feet in length and it's thickness was likely to match of a Monster Emphant.
Skeletal, clearly it was an unmarked burial. There's a point to the story beyond re-telling it. Never stop searching and discovering. There's amazing things even when you aren't looking for them!
Also we took notation of what we saw, and replaced everything how we found it. As it would've been disrespectful to leave it unearthed and exposed. Just for note!

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Mandus - Poetry

"Baggage."

I hope you have some baggage.
Lots of ripped up packs and sewn up cases - stained bags pulled from the garbage.
That draw stifled laughs from leering faces.
I'll help you carry those bags up ten flights of stairs - just to show you someone still cares.
I hope your dad missed your recital.
Wished he'd had a son who caught his first fish.
Your mom thought you'd make the ugliest bride, with all those jagged white scars from cuts she didn't kiss.
I'll tell you that you're gorgeous... And a long sleeve shirt isn't too atrocious.
I hope you think you're damaged goods and have lots of rotting skeleotons in your closet.
Because we've all missed a million shoulds and coulds, and all wished for a way to pause it.
But I'll hlep you bury those hidden bodies, and then we'll laugh over a couple coffees.
I'll get us a few beers, and we'll chit chat about our fears.
I hope you make an awful pun, and blush like you ruined all the fun.
I'll smile gently while you look at the ground, but I'll get us another round.
Because you're broken.
Just like me...

"Vows Unbroken"


For how long will the evil darkness shroud?
A lightless, baneful shadow it has cast,
A horror over the decent and proud.
As hope fades, we form our fated defense.
When your defiler heralds a descent,
This beaten flesh shall be your noble shield.
My somber death is but a mere portent.
Mourn not my demise, for my fate was sealed.

But an acute cost paid, you shall live on.
Enduring night now waning to a cease,
Its fear apparent in the coming dawn.
The knell now sounds. You shall know gentle peace.
As I am laid down to eternal rest,
Forget not, as you gaze upon my crest...

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Coraal

Time is a strange and wonderful thing for within a dream it loses its hold upon us. Something that happened only a short time ago can seem like ages past, while others that happened far distance seem like only yesterdream.
It was a time of risen strife within the City, when dreamers fought chak and Art at each other's throats, and Titans wandered with arrogant freedom in our halls and fields.

A group of warriors, called together from many different paths and yet joined in unity of purpose, were called to witness the chaos that spawns when a being is allowed to operate without restriction.

A Titan warrior, whose lies became his truth, made proclaimations and threats, and twisted the minds of honorable dreamers to his cause.

He destroyed and robbed Strongholds of their power, and fostered a near constant state of war and fear.
The group of warriors strove to maintain themselves in this state of affairs and found themselves in a prison created by this Titan; a place designed to hold and contain their dear friend.
Among these warriors was a quiet woman of kind bearing and sweet demenor who was loved by all who knew her. She ventured forth with her fellows to free their comrade from imprisonment and stood with her friends as they entered the prison

Dreamers from all over the City were in attendance, some supporting this mad Titan and others in opposition. This mattered not, when during another outburst of arrogant preening, the Titan murdered the comrade they came to free.

Battle promptly ensued with chakrams flying from all directions, Arts being evoked, and in the middle of the prison the lifeless Soul Sphere of their lost comrade. The group of warriors were shocked and appalled by the loss......and joined the fray with the gusto brought upon them by grief.

As the combat died down, as these things tend to do, the group was left mostly alone in the presence of the mad Titan. Now, the brave woman, the quiet and kind soul, stood beside her fellows and listened as another round of insanity was spoken, and insults launched at their group without pause. In yet another effort to prove his power and masculinity, the Titan collapsed a number of the group and threatened to end their dreams on the spot!

It was at that moment, when dreaming death was looming, that the quiet, gentle warrior...Poppy...took her chak and began to beat the absolute piss out of the Mad Titan Xun'rok.


The battle was something you might read about in a story of legend, when heroes of old took up arms against impossible odds to combat seemingly unbeatable foes.
Poppy was not at all deterred and Xun'rok was shocked by this display. The combat was fierce but Poppy did not for one moment relent. That Titan bled that day and Poppy worked him around and around while her group, the PC escaped Fayd's Fortress for safer locales. The PC members were concerned for Poppy, because Xun'rok was a Titan and could Strike, but had nothing to fear when Poppy arrived in safety shortly thereafter.

It should be noted that Poppy arrived *after* Xun'rok vanished, proving that she, through her valor and strength, drove him from his position.


This will always be one of my best and most favorite memories.
And there is a lesson, as I mentioned, to my tale, for I was among the PC members whose dreams nearly came to an end that dream
And the lesson is this, so pay attention carefully.

Those who prefer the path of combat in our City often are those whose bravado and strength of arms is prevalent and on a constant display
But do not, for a single moment, discount the power of love and resolve that is held by our kindest and most gentle members.
Because, quite often, it will be the kind and gentle soul who will, when pushed against the wall, be the one to ruin your dreams for a time and leave you bleeding and hurt on the floor.

Thank you for saving our dreams that night, Poppy. It is a debt I will forever be repaying.

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Arlyana Jax

On my shard, we still have a monarchy.

Now, most would give second thought to calling a royal out on a mistake, Royals are not...known for their acceptance of criticism

Betha was not your average lady, She was smaller than most, but unless she stood next to you, you would not notice.

She was a renowned marshal of jousts and other pursuits that involved beating others with sticks
At a joust, the royal champion was felling competitors left and right

While one would expect a champion of the crown to be above average, Betha sensed that something was amiss.

His Majesty, having had...a little to drink........thought that he would take on his champion and prove once again why he was the king.

No one, not even the queen could sway him from his foolhardy quest, no one, until Betha.

Standing a full two heads shorter than the king, she stormed onto the field, wielding her marshalling staff like a weapon.
She called the king out by his full name, not an easy task, until he turned to face her
21:30:42: Arlyana Jax: He began to argue with her about how it was his right, blah, blah and so forth
21:31:02: Arlyana Jax: Without missing a beat, Betha thwapped the king on his head

She then grabbed his ear and turned his head towards the champion's tent, Lo and behold, the champion was pouring something on the end of his lance.

Betha's keen eyes saved not only the king's life, but his honour as well.

When his Majesty's head had cleared **Arlyana Jax coughs... inaboutaweek**

He thanked her by not only allowing her to choose the scoundrel's punishment, but granting her permission to wear purple,
the colour of royalty, and to call herself a member of the royal family.

A phrase I had heard before but never understood "Though she be small, she be mighty" was embodied in this fine lady.

Best not judge by one's size.

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Story-Go-Round : Improv. - (This is a game where each person makes up a sentence or two on the spot.)
Elmer, Purple Lace, Mandus.

(Elms)
There was a man in a small town who everyone knew, the town tavern owner! A friendly strapping fellow who was always quick with a smile and a joke!

(Lace)
HIs woman, however, was much less.... jovial. She grumbled from dawn to dusk,
mostly about little things and the fact that the man would NEVER put his dirty laundry in the hamper!


(Mandus)
The tavern owner spent most nights sighing and nodding to his wife, being too tired from his heavy work at the tavern. He eventually took to keeping his clothes behind the bar at the tavern.

(Elms)
The customers, after some time began to notice a rather pungent odor....they'd say hey Frank!
no offense my friend but i swear to the GODS it smells of soiled uh....unmentionables in here...what IS it?

(Lace)
One afternoon, when the tavern owner had the doors open, airing the place out, a busty young lady sauntered in, asking if there be work to be had within the Tavern. The owner had both hands full of old, stinky shirts.

(Mandus)
The lass looked at the owner with a warmth he'd not known in quite some time, taking one of the handfuls of dirtied linens.
She smiled as she washed them, and the tavern owner, more than twice her age, watched with a burning in his chest.


(Elms)
Frank said, "what is your name my darling and where have you been all my life??
The woman smiled with a bat of her lush lashes and said in a sultry voice...you can call me whateverrrrrr you like, handsome..

(Lace)
The lass replied, "Why Uncle Frank, don't ya remember me?
I'm crushed! I'm Aunt Hilda's second daughter's third born, of course! Matilda!" About this time, here comes Mrs Frank, with a broom!

(Mandus)
Mrs. Frank swatted the tavern owner with the broom over and over again, berrating him the whole time:
"I know how you look at the girls! That's your niece you lunatic!"
She took his clothes and hurled them outside, kicking them around in rage until one pair of unmentionables got stuck on the lantern hook out front.
And that's how we got the tavern name "The Smelly Undies."

(Elms)
AND the moral to the story Is!!!

(Lace)
The..... moral to the story is....
Never aire ye dirty laundry to everyone.... ESPECIALLY family!!!

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Tamarisk
A Boy and a ButterKnife.


One dream....long long ago, In a fortress, deep on the Barrows. A young boy was practicing to become a great warrior like his father.

Suddenly, out of the facade portal comes a menicingly large figure

YOUNG MAN!!! I WILL NOT TELL YOU AGAIN THAT IT IS TIME FOR THE HOUSE MEETING AND YOU WILL GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!!!!

But MOM, I'm practicing....the little one said.

I SAID THIS INSTANT!!!

The little boy tucked his blade into his belt like his father does and skips into the house for the meeting.

As the meeting drolls on and on, the little lad got bored...as little boys often do. He was jostled out of his daydream
when one of the Guardians declared that the MARE MEETINGS would soon begin.

Oh the little boy could hardly contain himself.

He began to rush for the portal when his mother exclaimed...YOUNG MAN YOU WILL STAY IN THIS HOUSE AND NOT STEP ONE FOOT OUTSIDE UNTIL THIS IS OVER!!

Awww mom, I want to help...the little boy said.
His mother pointed a finger at him and gave him the MOTHER STARE.

As everyone else ran out to dispatch Tethu and his minions, the little boy couldn't stand it any longer so he grabbed his poor little blade and ran out the portal.

What he saw made him scream with fear and giggle with joy at the same time. Mares were everywhere.

He grabbed his blade in his hand and ran down the steps swinging it wildly all the while he was yelling his little boy warcry...which sounded more like a scream of fright.
He chased the mares around and around the facade swinging his tiny blade and stabbing at the cloaks of the mares.

Above all the battle noise you could her a shrill paniced voice,...YOUNG MAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? YOU ARE GOING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED!!!!

Nuh uh mom...I'm helping!! he yelled back as he ran right...into...the...back...of....TEHTHU HIMSELF!!!

Now the young boy flies back onto his behind and looks up at the monster as it slowly turns to look at the little boy.
The little boy screams and then stops....that's not manly...he screams again and then just shrugs.
He jumps up and starts to stab at the monster.

Tehthu the Mighty just laughs in his mare laugh and reaches out his nasty claw to touch the little boy.

Oh NO!

The little boys eyes filled with fear and he turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could toward the house flailing his arms and screaming...I'll be good...I'll be good!!!!

The giant monster couldn't help but chortle at the antics of the boy, leaving himself vulnerable to collapse.

With their leader collapsed, the other mares were no match for the gathered army.

The little boy was a hero and made the official DarkMare distractor for when the mares came to visit.

And that's how the little boy and his butterknife saved the day.

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Uthanatos
Parable or Prophecy?

Our tale begins centered on a young man, bright and clever, but more than that, dedicated.
When the young man set his mind to things he accomplished them, thoroughly and without fail.

He travelled far from home in search of education and found a school, the headmaster was acclaimed for being fair
and even and the young man buried himself in his studies and works.
Some months later, the headmaster gave a task to all the students equally, to replicate the stars in the sky.
The young man was abashed, such a grand task seemed impossible, but he set to it and each night, he spent the entirety of the night lying on his back in the courtyard,
mapping each and every star.

On the third day, several of his peers turned in theirs, just bits of paper covered in sap and copper shavings and he looked upon the works in confusion.

He couldn't fathom how anyone could think that was acceptable...it had no actual bearing upon the stars in the sky,
and the headmaster told him, "Not all are as bright as you, they should not be judged by your talents"

Over the months, as he worked, he realized the stars moved and he tracked them, night after night.
In the meantime, one after another, his classmates turned in subpar works and each was given praise.

Finally, after nine months of work, he had charted the stars and their movements, each in precision and he approached the headmaster with his work, presenting it proudly.

The headmaster, however, shook his head, looking at the young man disdainfully and he said,
"You are more clever than this, what of the stars for the missing three months?"

So the young man set back out, night after night, but his heart had fallen, each night he grew more and more resentful.
Those who had presented paper with copper shavings were praised, but he, who worked so hard was spurned.

Finally, after a year and a day, he brought his works to the headmaster once more and as the headmaster poured over the tomes...

the young man plunged a dagger into his back!

As the headmaster slumped over a year of the young man's life, his blood staining and tainting the pages, he gasped a single word, "why?"

The young man drew the dagger from the headmaster and donned his robes, taking his sceptre and keys, then spoke as he turned and walked away,

"You acclaimed my wit and intellect, but berate my efforts, when so many do so little.

Knowledge is universal, but judgement is subjective."

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Story-Go-Round 2
Elmer, Arnaya, Aileron, Uthanatos

(Elms)
Our previous story this evening saw Frank the tavern keep, getting pummeled senselessly by his grumpy wife's broom...
well let me tell ya Frank had had enough, he packed his bags, locked up the tavern and went on his way...good riddance wench!

(Arnaya)
As he walked home through the darkness of the gathering evening, the faintly guttering torchlight from
the center square of the village did little to help him find his path... as his toes discovered as he...

(Aileron)

Winces, it wasnt just the path that his toes discovered but the rustling of what was looking as a pile of soiled rags shifts with a deep grunt.
"How dare ye distrub my slumber" The voice followed a waft of spirits that would knock out any normal person.
"You appear out of no where sir..are you magic?" Frank asks.
"Magic?...are you soiled in the he--Aye...i am magic" the voice replies

(Uthanatos)
The pile of rags rises up, in the form of a wizened old man, "well..so am I!
What has you out here wandering the night with the lost souls?"
Frank stumbled back a bit from the stench, "Just looking for happiness, I guess". The old man...

(Elms)
The old man said....har har!! well, you aint gonna find no HAPPINESS!,
with that old woman a yers whappin you upside the noggin every five minutes with her broom!
to find true happiness you have to....


(Arnaya)
Do what escapes the richest, and wisest, and most powerful of men..."
The old man peered at Frank from beneath his dirt encrusted cowl.
A slow grin creeping across his lips as his eyes glinted mischeviously.
"But I wonder.... perhaps you will be the one to succeed at...."

(Aileron)
"What fails most of all us to be truly happy?" Frank looks, an expression of loss crossing his face.
"Your words mean different things to different ears." The pile of rags shifts and an alcoholic chuckle rises from it "But what does it mean to you, Frank?"
Frank lifts his head, a sudden spark flashing through is being as he laughs to himself, turning before running off saying "
..its pronounced Fronk..and thank you."

(Uthanatos)
Frank ran and ran, down to the docks.
He found a sailor sleeping along the street and took his purse and cutlass and set off, bags full of booze and a cutlass on his hip.
He, was going to be an adventurer!


(Elms)
He wandered along happy as any man could be! yes...an adventure! he opened one of the bottles and guzzled from it, coughed, and suddenly....
felt pain in his head..ow! owww!!
he snapped his eyes open to see his old woman thwapping him over the head again with that damn broom!
he grumbled...aw shit...what a dream....he sat up and said LISTEN HERE WENCH!...

(Arnaya)
QUIT HITTING ME WITH YOUR POLE BEFORE I PULL MINE OUT AND RETURN THE FAVOR!"
His bellow nearly shook the room as his wife recoiled, reflexively looking to the broom handle in her hands, then back at Frank with an appraising gaze.
Her words dismissive as she replied: "If yer gonna threaten me, you'll have t'do it with something bigger than a...

(Aileron)
"Small nail that a carpenter can barely do anything with!"
Frank looks to his wife and glares before laughing merrily
"On our wedding night you said it was the biggest peak that erupted your lands."
She looks to him with a smirk "what a woman says is merely context, small one, now get up and work."
Frank gets up with a chuckle then stops..turning to his wife, his face serious "Do you want adventure?"

(Uthanatos)
She glared back at him, raising the broom menacingly, "You have an adventure! Drunks need serving."
With that, he took his coat off the hook and walked out...
As he walked home through the darkness of the gathering evening,
the faintly guttering torchlight from the center square of the village did little to help him find his path,
which he discovered as he stubbed his toe on an old soiled pile of rags...