Game: I, Modron "An Eye for an Eye"

The ninjas looked at the mostly undamaged modrons for a moment and then glanced at the few strands of smoke that had once been their allies. They shared a glance and then, as one, threw down small black pellets at their feet. The motions activated the modrons’ readied actions, four strikes, three ninjas reduced to nothing but wisps of smoke. The two shadow warriors that survived the lawful onslaught release their pellets, releasing an acrid black smoke that engulfs them and the modrons.

When the smoke clears the exemplars find themselves alone on the rooftop, those surviving ninjas having vanished. The tiefling, now fully cognizant, glances around at the group and then at the bloody crossbow lying at its side (pushed out by the healing spell) and grunts. “What happened?”

The modrons plummeted like building blocks dropped from a tremendous height. One by one they reached out their limbs and grabbed the wires as they passed, their lawful reflexes acting in the blink of an eye. There was a slight jarring sensation in their shoulder joints as the force of their fall was halted and then they were hanging there. One tiefling and one… two… three… four… four… four….

Box-in-Bloom missed her catch and she plummeted like a glowing ball of metal and neon lights, the butterflies clinging to her vegetation in a frightened manner. She plummeted for what seemed like forever. As the ground welled up, the modron unconsciously closed her eyes. Suddenly she felt her fall begin to slow and she opened her eyes…

Back atop the conveniently placed and completely aesthetic wires the tiefling gazed at the modrons. “None of this is real!” he shouted at them, “We’re trapped in a pocket universe inside a bauble that I just purchased from A’kin! A Night of Action, he called it. I had the key in me pocket, but it seems to have given me the slip! We’re in a whole heap o’ trouble here, lil boxes, a whole heap o’ trouble….”

“Please remain calm, Mr. Del Mar, my good man. I am so deeply sorry for this trouble that you seem to be in,” a soothing voice said as a pair of tiny glowing hands floated towards the modrons, carrying Box-in-Bloom between them. “I will have you out of this predicament in one moment.”

The universe seemed the shimmer and then collapse in on itself. All six of the people (and the dozen or so magic insects) all suddenly found themselves lying on the sidewalk. The ‘Friendly Fiend’ sign was brightly visible above them and a dog-headed figure in long green robes stood over them, bowing and looking completely and utterly apologetic.

“I am so so sorry, to all of you, please, please, come inside. I will put on a pot of tea and you may all rest and relax. I am so terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Here you go, Sir Del Mar, I have salvaged your purchase and picked up the key that you dropped. Now all of you, please come inside,” the fiend’s manner was that of a mother who was frightened that her children had nearly been injured. As he led the modrons into the building he immediately went into the back and vanished for a few moments.

The Friendly Fiend’s establishment was a wonderful place. The room seemed much larger on the inside than the out, but this was accomplished through proper use of space. Each of the walls was covered in shelves stacked full of books, baubles, oddments, and trinkets. The floor was covered in a wide circular rug that seemed to shift in color with each glance. A number of quite comfortable chairs sat arrayed around the room for the comfort of its customers.

A few moments later the purveyor of the establishment reentered the room, a teapot in his hands and a set of glasses floating magically behind him. “Here you go, sirs and missus, it is my own blend,” A‘kin poured tea into each of the floating glasses which floated into the modron’s hands, “I am so deeply sorry. I hope none of you were grievously wounded by the ‘Night’. What may I do for you all to make you more comfortable?”

The arcanaloth's eyes lowered sadly. He paused for a few moments, "Yes, it is entirely possible that you could have been destroyed by the fall. The item is made to create a quite lethal simulation that scales its difficulty to the skill level of those within it. It is quite lucky that I was able to locate the item key in time."

A'kin. The Friendly Fiend. The jackal-headed yugoloth was a living legend around the Cage. He and his shop had existed as long as anyone could remember - and some in Sigil could remember back a long long time. Noone trusted him behind his back, but when confronted with him, when speaking face to face with that muzzle full of sharp fangs, one couldn't help but trust him. It wasn't some magical enchantment that did it, A'kin was merely that polite and trustable.

The arcanaloth clicked his clawed fingernails on the wooden table. "I am sorry mistress, would your 'pets' require something to eat? I have a bouquet of Arborean glow-roses... they have a sweet magical pollen that I am told by some of my insectoid associates is quite delicious."

"Indeed I am," A'kin said, bowing to Kilojoule. "Ah, you were sent by Eye? How is the cycloptic little orb doing these days?"

"No, no, I purchased it off of a Sensate who had come upon hard times, as of late," A'kin responded, "I do not know where he had found the device."

A'kin sipped at a tea cup and stood up, walking across the room to tap at the side of a glass jar for a moment. There was a slight yipping noise coming from the jar and the arcanaloth smiled pleasently as he turned back to the modrons.

"Its own hierarchy, eh?" he asked, nodding sagely, "An interestig notion. And you are its assistants in this endeavor?" he asked, no note of prodding in his voice, merely mild curiosity,

I have to say I'm stumped.

You have a single objective at the moment. Deliver the letter to A'kin. You have the letter? Check. You have A'kin? Check.

And the game is stalled... this bothers me immensely.

I WILL institute crazy time if this continues... I'm sure A'kin has something in his shop that can kick your asses. AN oven that continually belches forth pastry elementals or something... if he gets bored and leaves who knows what could happen... EYe'll need another set of rogues to do this particular job.

(Back ye heathens!

: Primus takes a shoe tree to Dretch and Eco-Mono :

Calling all modrons - does anybody speak Infernal?

If you have not yet allocated your languages and suddenly decide that you speak infernal for no other reason than because I've asked then I'll give you what I gave them!

: Primus waves madly at the crushed bodies of Dretch and Eco. Wields shoe tree liberally :

Hey hey there kids. Finally, I am free to use the interweb at my leisure (Spring Break.. wooo!) Hopefully I'll kick this game in the pants.

Currently my priorities are as follows: Fixing this piece of crap computer; posting something painfully interesting in this game that will pull everyone back on board and get us rolling again; writing hooks for a BCD game; making my BCD character for Rhys and MJ.

Sadly, the first thing on that list is far harder than I thought. COmbine a 56k modem, Windows ME, a complete lack of Spyware protection, and a group of computer illiterates pounding at it while I'm away and... yea.. : FACE! :

Yes, Clue... I may end up doing that. You see this is my home computer. My shiny nice dorm computer is all XP and shiny buttons and spyware protection. My home computer which I have neglected and my family has abused is... not good.

Really, I should try to switch out of using Windows... but I'm to lazy to learn Linux or Unix and using Mac is like moving ot France - it may be better, but who the hell is actually gonna do it? Besides Depp, I mean.

"I am sorry, Master Sidrem. Yes, yes, I am fine. I am sorry for acting so strangely," he said with a sigh, "I was merely reminded of a rather uncomfortable event."

A'kin looked up at the modrons over the lid of his teacup and drew in a deep breath. The nervous tapping stopped as he uncrumpled the letter and then folded it neatly once more. With a slight nod, he handed the missive to Box-In-Bloom. The vegetated modron shuddered slightly at the fiend's touch; there was a venom there, a dark spiritual poison that caused her flowers to wilt a bit before straightening again. As A'kin released the note his eyes looked deep into Boxy's and he smiled a little bit. Those eyes were deep, the druidess noted, deep like endless chasms, so deep that if one were to fall in one would never be able to find their way out again. The eye contacted lasted only a moment, but Boxy was left a little stunned as she moved to unfold the letter. Meanwhile, A'kin had sat up to full height and steepled his fingers.

"Eye and I have been associates for quite some time," the arcanoloth said in a storytelling tone, "He assisted me with a small problem, and, in turn, I assisted him with a matter that would be better left unmentioned. When I first encountered him he was practically identical to yourselves and called himself Unit 0. It was not until a cycle ago that he had assumed his current shape and began referring to himself as Eye."

The shop-keep sipped at his tea as he paused for a moment. The druid-dron, having opened the missive, found herself confronted with a page full of completely indecipherable symbols. There was something almost familiar about them, but also something that hurt her eyes to look at. The modron was forced to look away, the contents of the letter remaining a mystery. As she looked up at A'kin the other modrons could see the strange baatific letters which still seemed to be reflected in her eyes. The shadow reflections remained there for a few ticks of Boxy's internal chronometer before turning to ash and vanishing. The modron blinked as the ash sprinkled to the floor and then vanished. She was about to say something when A'kin returned to his story.

"Eye has always been a kind being and he's always seemed somewhat sorrowful. I had always assumed that he was a bit lonely, some kind of remnant of his severance from the collective modron mind. Since his transformation, however, he has seemed a bit more hopeful and determined. He never discussed what happened, but it would seem that he had come up with this plan of his. It must be why he's seemed so much more optimistic as of late."

A'kin noted Boxy's discomfort and made an apologetic face. "I am sorry, I neglected to ask if you could read Infernal... those without proficiency in the language sometimes experience discomfort."