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Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by Jerusha on Today at 10:05:45 am »
Oh my.  I hope Archer and Wash can manage to join forces before they kill each other.  Fantastic writing Laurna!
2
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by DerynifanK on Today at 09:49:38 am »
Laurna you are really good at leaving readers on the edge of their seats. Not sure my fingernails are going to survive this, keep biting them.
3
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by Bynw on Today at 09:07:13 am »
The plot is like a good stew. Thickening as it simmers.
4
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by revanne on Today at 07:15:37 am »
Racking up the tension nicely, Laurna.
5
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by DerynifanK on Today at 07:04:38 am »
 Could there be two Archers? I thought  Archer was Kelson's spy but in this scene he sounds like Feyd's accomplice. I'm a bit confused and even more concerned about what is going to happen to Wash.
6
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Last post by Laurna on Today at 04:43:13 am »
“Afternoon yet?” Washburn asked into the darkness.  His voice didn’t travel far with the thick stone all around him. Even the sound of the bells did not penetrate this deep into the rock palisade. There was certainly no light to suggest the passage of time. The only means of counting were the passages of the guards before his cell. Eight times he had seen a torch pass the door grill, eight times a pair of eyes lit by the torch had stopped to stare at him. The ninth time, Washburn missed it. He had dozed off; exhausted from all manner of abuse. A great bang on the grill startled him to wakefulness. “No sleeping! Hear me! I’m supposed to be off duty, in my bed right now, but NO! That assassin fellow stabbed the Baron, and until he lives or dies, I’m not allowed off duty. See here, if I don’t sleep, you don’t sleep!” The anger in the guard’s tone gave Washburn a shiver. The darkness was exhausting. Then there were the drugs, the lack of good food, and the pain in his ribs, which had subsided for a while--Feyd must have added a pain reducer to whatever other mystery substances he had added to his prisoner's morning drink. The pain reducer was warring off; the anti-magic drug seemed to be working overtime. Nothing unusual about that, Washburn thought.  Desciding to think of more positive reasons for his exhaustion, Wash considered the energy he'd used to Heal his and face and his jaw... and... this thought brought on a faint smile...the lack of sleep while in the hands of a loving, warm woman.

The guard must have missed it; his torchlight moved on.  Back in full darkness, Washburn found himself dreaming pleasant dreams of the girl who had touched his soul. Her hands were both delicate and strong, her kisses, angelic. She was back in the circle of his arms, kissing his lips, when the startling sound of metal banged against his door, tore him away from his dream-filled bliss.  “I told you, no sleep!” It was obvious this angry guard needed his own bed. Again the guard moved away, bashing other’s doors and yelling at other prisoners.  Washburn wasn’t sure if he found solace in the fact that he was not alone down here. Far down the cells, the noise echoed through the place. Apparently no one was going to be sleeping this day.

Being watched so frequently, Wash was fearful that his partial recovery would be discovered. Purposely he sat with his left side against the wall. He hid the Healing of his face from the door by resting his left cheek against the shackle around his wrist. As to the bruises on his face, he had no idea if they remained. For certain the pain had gone. But did Healing clear up bruising too? He didn’t have enough experience to know. Best to hide his face when the torchlight came near.  Also this position availed him to wrestling with the ring in an attempt to loosen it from the wall, but even after hours of pitting his strength against it, the ring was as tight as the stone it was embedded in.  Considering the heft of these iron shackles and the thickness of this chain, Washburn wondered if they were meant to hold a bear. When it physically could not be budged, angry bouts had Wash searching for magic to free himself from the shackles. Master Feyd had done his job too well. His magic was non-existent. Fingers sore from scratching at the stone and mind numb from the lack of sensory that he had been trained to use all his life, Washburn finally gave it all up and turned to sleep. He shifted his legs out on the floor and tilted his head against the wall in attempt to sleep and perchance to dream of her.

The echo of bars rattling beyond his cell kept sleep at bay. The oppressive small space and the surrounding dense rock filled him with increasing doom. He was cut off from everything he had ever known. The world that existed above ground was untouchable down here. He was trapped between the world of the living and the world of the dead. How do you keep from going mad? he thought. Hold memories of life close, was his first answer. Trouble was, all the memories in the forefront of his mind were memories of resentment for being ill-used by his family and his king. Those memories seemed detestable to him, even alien in their nature. Yet even though the memories felt contrived, they still raised his ire and overwhelmed him with resentment for the abuse they showed he had suffered. Memories of estranged family will only put you closer to the grave, he thought in resistance.

The lesson the saint had taught him was that he would gain no ethereal help if he relied on hate. His memories of resentment weren’t the key. The key was his faith. Believe in the light, he told himself. Yet, hate and resentment were ever present in his mind. How can I believe in Light when i’m buried underground? Did he dare plead for help from the saint when he surely had already been given his quota of miracles? He wanted to scream that he didn’t deserve what was happening to him, that God owed him, but then he ducked his head in shame. One did not expect to merit miracles from heaven or from saints. They gave only to the worthy and the devout. In his bitter mind, he had become neither. Seek the light should be his new mantra. In this total darkness it was hard to envision Light: Light of the heart, light of the soul. On a whim, he wondered if he could manage the light of hand fire.

Wash could not see his hands as he brought them together before his face. He cupped them upward like in the days his maman had first taught him to spell-craft Handfire. His test surprised him! ((Washburn handfire testing to see if he can do it. /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (5+6) = 11)) The flare was instant, and as instantly he extinguished it, suddenly fearful the light had been seen. Washburn waited in the black silence, anxious for a repercussion. ((Guard at the other end of the dungeon, could he have seen the flash? Disadvantage roll /r 1d6 @Laurna: 1d6 = (1) = 1)) The sound of the guard harassing other prisoners did not change. Washburn sucked in his breath, letting it out slowly. Idiot, do you really want to get dosed with drugs again or something worse! he scolded himself.

Now that he thought on it, he didn’t remember Feyd passing across any vial of drugs to his new captors. Maybe...now that he was securely chained... they wouldn’t waste effort on such exclusive drugs. Merasha would hold him powerless just as easily, with longer duration times. That gave him a chill of what to expect in the near future. But then it occurred to him, they might be thinking of duration effects in terms of merasha, something like a full day, not the drug that eased off after eight hours.  What had Feyd given him just before arriving here, anyway? He just used his powers to create handfire, so the drug could not have been the same.  Knowing he should hide his gradually reforming powers, Wash tried to raise his shields; previously they had been the first of his powers to returned. This time, he could not find any shields. Washburn panicked. They weren’t just dampened by Feyd’s insistent orders. No! He just did not have them. “Khadasa!” he exclaimed under his breath.  What was Feyd playing at this time? No shields left him helpless to mind control. Why? Who needed to control him now and in this place?

Deep breath. Think this through. Bide your time, Washburn encouraged himself, If fledgling powers are returning; stronger energies will soon be mine. I can find a way out of here before they drug me again.

No need to fight for wakefulness anymore, his mind was racing.  Optimism! Think of the best way out of here! You’ve beat many an opponent just by planning ahead and knowing you were the better man. Wash considered his successes of the past. Of course it helped that his reputation preceded him. Wash didn’t have that here. Yet, put a sword in his hand and he was the best in the land. Trouble was Washburn’s sword had been taken by the guard who had shackled him up in this cell. That guard would have considered it justifiable loot. The knight of Lendour frowned. That was the last time he would see any of the three pieces of the Lendour weapon set. Why had Master Feyd even bothered with securing the sword to him? He had some devious plan; what would it be?. Think best case scenario. I get my powers back, I use my powers to unlock the shackles, then I unlock the cell door.  Up the ladder, into the guard room. I find a sword to win my freedom. Pretend to be a noble of the household and escape out the gate, or better, climb down unseen over the wall.

Washburn laughed at the joke of it. Even I am not that optimistic. If it happened that way, it wouldn’t be just the saints on his side but the devil would be there too. That would not bode well. Think this through realistically. He would have to overpower the guards quickly so that they could not call the alarm.  He would need to have his hands free to do that.  Washburn tested his mind on the shackles about his wrist. His magical senses were starting to emerge. He could see the pins in the lock, but could he move them? ((13:56 Washburn Washburn first attempt at Telekinesis with his emerging powers. Still at disadvantage. 13:57 Washburn !roll 1d6 13:57 derynibot 2 == 2)) Sweat covered his brow, his powers were coming back, but they were far from full strength just yet  Hold on a little longer, he told himself. Perhaps a little prayer to the powers that be would not go amiss here.

Think of the light of heaven, not of the light of Handfire, he jested to himself. Ironically the darkness around him was complete. Again he put his hands before him, clasping them in prayer. What prayer would Uncle Duncan offer at a time like this? He considered for a moment, then began a prayer in a minute whisper, gaining strength as his faith filled each word.

A torch thrust through the grill in the door, giving light to the darkness. There was a great clang on the grill behind the torch. “No sleep, and no groveling to God!” growled the angry guard. ”Heaven doesn’t have time for men who are already condemned to Hell.” Washburn did not pause his words, rather instead, he rushed them, wanting to get to the “Amen.” The Guard rattled the door disruptively, “Do I have to teach you who’s boss? You’re new, so I guess I do! Archer!” the guard called down the dungeon corridors, “Help me teach a lesson to this buffoon.”

The torch withdrew, the lock clicked open,and the door swung wide. A pair of torches, almost blinding to Washburn, filled the tiny cell with light. Wash had to squint hard to sense the two guards entering behind the light; one was mindful, one was angry, both held clubs. Washburn’s prayer fell silent with a hesitant “Amen”. Had he just condemned himself to more abuse. Tensing at their dominating postures, Wash recognized one guard as the one who had brought him down here hours ago. That man looked none too pleased to be following his partner’s whim. Both guards appeared strained in the flickering torchlight, both looked like they had not seen sleep in days. That made both of them a danger. Wash chastised himself for having drawn their attention, he had just wanted to say a simple prayer before he attempted greater magic. Now he did not dare to show that magic for fear they would drug him before he had a chance to make an escape attempt.

 “Archer, I’ll show you how ta handle these pretentious king’s men. They think themselves better than us. No way! They ain't nothing but worn out flesh by the time they get down here. Grab that arm firm. Guid’! Now stretch it hard, like so. See the chain stretches his chin up, forces his head back. Ya, just like that. Hold him tight!” The two guards wrestled Washburn’s right hand tell it was stretched as far the the chain allowed. His left hand pulled painfully into the ring. Their paired strength was greater than the knight could fend off. His right hand smacked against the wall. The chain between them pulled taut across his larynx.

“I got ‘em, Piers.” Archer claimed, holding Washburn’s hand outstretched.

 “You don’t get to bother God any more!” Piers hissed. He dangled a leather strap before him. ((Rolling for guard /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (6+3) = 9)) “This will not only keep you from bothering God, but it will keep you awake until I tell you otherwise.”  ((Rolling for Washburn disadvantage save test. /r 1d6 @Laurna: 1d6 = (4) = 4)) Wash held his jaw closed until the guard purposely kicked him in the ribs. The intake of breath was all the guard needed to stuff the strap into Washburn’s mouth. “Ha, you can’t best me!” the guard laughed. The strap was pulled tight to the back of the knight’s head and buckled to the ring. “That will take care of you. Should have done it when you first came in.”

Washburn had squirmed but to no avail.  His upper torso was trapped.  His assailants were too close for him to kick. But then the angry guard stupidly backed off a pace. Washburn timed his kick well, his boot hit the man’s inside thigh.((Washburn Kicking, standard attack with his boot toe /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (5+4) = 9)) The kick made a clean connect and the guard fell back, cursing. With adrenaline rushing, Washburn tensed every muscle in his shoulder to thrust his hand against the short guard who held him. ((Washburn thrusting his arm out against the guard named Archer /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (3+5) = 8)) Archer may have been short but he was fast, unable to hold the arm by himself, he danced away before being bruised.

“Damn you, Archer! See that spike there? Why didn’t you put the chain over the spike, that would have spread his arms taut. Didn’t they teach you anything?”

Belatedly the short guard pulled the torch over to see the spike in the wall. “You didn’t tell me that before!” he sneered. Now that Washburn had the motion of three full feet of chain, neither guard wanted to get near to him.  Piers hefted his club and swung it into the knight’s pained side. ((The pissed guard attacks with a club at the prisoner’s wounded side. /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (4+4) = 8)) Quicker than the guards thought he could respond, Wash blocked the blow with the shackles and chain on his left wrist. ((Can Washburn twist the club out of the guards hand. /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (1+6) = 7)) Attempting the trick he had missed that morning with Otis, Wash twisted the chain around the club and pulled if from Piers’s hand. Pulling the chain through the rings quickly, he managed to get enough slack for his right hand to grab at the falling club. Suddenly, the knight had the weapon well balanced in his right hand.

((Can Archer retrieve the club from Washburn's hand using hidden magic /r 3d6 @Laurna: 3d6 = (5+4+1) = 10)) Archer wasn’t about to make a grab for the club, he knew better than that. “Wait. Valerian gave me something better than a weapon.” With a devious smile, Archer stepped into the reach of the club. Wash began the weapon’s swing.

Piers yelled, “Are you mad?”

Archer yelled out a forceful, “Hold!” Without Piers knowing it, Archer put magic into the compulsion, just in case he was wrong. He wasn’t wrong. Washburn’s every muscle froze unmoving. Piers tapped the prisoner’s feet, then he poked at the strap over the cheek bone.  Other than glaring eyes, the prisoner made no move. “Our grand duke gave me his voice controls, Hah!” the guard claimed.

 “You didn’t tell me this before,” Piers accused his partner.

“You didn’t tell me about the spike in the wall!” Archer countered. “Not like I can see a black spike against black stone.” Without further fighting, Archer retrieved the club from the knight’s clenched fist, then he hefted the chain and jammed a link over the spike on the wall. Washburn swore he saw pity in the guard’s eyes as a mind brushed his mind. Finding no shields, Archer turned away from the prisoner to return the club to its owner. Piers would not have guessed there had been magic in Archer’s words, but Washburn knew it for what it was. “Look Piers, he’s a trained warrior, how do you think I got him down here so easily?”

“No food. No water for you, warrior. That is the last fight you will ever have,” Piers snapped at the chained nobleman with a triumphant smile.

The Deryni guard watched his partner go. When he was sure he was gone, his hand touched Washburn’s forehead, covering his eyes.  Your controls will help me immensely for what is to come. Feyd is indeed a Master at what he does. Impressive to me that he could set your controls so absolute. Must be frustrating for you, if you’re in there somewhere. Are you? We’ll figure that out later. I have a mission; I need your body, your warrior skills, not your mind. Afraid you won’t like me much in the hours ahead, not until your shields return. Until then, we will make a good team. Free the world, we will, of injustice. I’ll go now and take care of Piers. Get yourself prepared. The time is soon when we have a job to complete. As Archer pulled away, Washburn’s eyes followed his every move. Archer nodded assuredly, then left the cell, locking the door shut behind him after he left.

A Deryni! Was he Valerian’s? No! Was he Feyd’s family? Oh! Perhaps a family member looking out for that 200 year old revenge? Hidden in Valerian’s nest?  A coup was underway, and Feyd wasn’t going to take the blame for this murder. No! Washburn Morgan got to do the deed, under the guise of revenge for his father’s murder.  Wash considered his next moves. It didn’t take much to know this Archer could force him to do the deed. That is why Feyd had made sure he had no shields, so Master Feyd’s accomplice could control Morgan’s every move. Valerian had it coming to him, Washburn was sure of that. It would even put an end to the rebellion, and save Gwynedd’s king no end of trouble. Not that Washburn cared about that. But what was Feyd’s real motivations? Wash wouldn’t live long enough to find out. Archer would be here to see to that.  Very well, best take Archer down before he was compelled to do Feyd’s dirty work. 

Washburn realized the guard Archer had probably only tested for his shields and not for his returning powers. The adrenaline rush had been enough to clear the cobwebs from the magic of his family’s race. While Archer was stopping Piers, Washburn needed to get out of his confinement before the assassin guard returned. ((Washburn uses telekinesis to unlock one shackel. /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (6+2) = 8)) A mind trick more precious than any he had ever learned, opening locks, came to him with practiced ease. The pin in the lock turned the shaft. It slid opened just like someone had turned a key. One hand came free.  Washburn turned his mind to the second shackle. The lock was just in his peripheral range. ((Second shackle unlocked. /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (6+2) = 8)) With the same ease, the second shackle fell away. Both hands free, it was a matter of fumbling with the strap holding his head firm in one place. ((Unbuckling strap with telekinesis. faster than if he used his hands. /r 2d6 @Laurna: 2d6 = (4+3) = 7 Ok not faster.)) Unable to visualize the buckle behind him, Washburn spent precious long minutes fumbling with tense fingers to release the buckle.

Could he get free before Archer returned?
7
MerchantDeryni's FanFic / Re: Not quite fanfic
« Last post by Bynw on September 21, 2018, 11:40:43 pm »
The policing of it would be difficult if the Deryni population is still a fraction of the human poplulation. But as the Deryni population grows. Methods of detection will also come about. A Portal can be felt if one stands on it. Unless it's one of those Camber portals.

Katherine wrote in Deryni Magic the following when it comes to detecting a Portal:

"Perception of a Portal location requires close proximity to or contact with the
Portal square – the term most often used to describe the boundary of the Portal location,
despite the fact that an octagon is used in construction. The energy pattern of a "live" or
operational Portal usually is perceived as a tingling or a pulsing sensation, though this
clearly is a psychic rather than a physical phenomenon, since humans do not feel it. A
Deryni accustomed to Portal use can lock onto a familiar Portal merely by stepping onto
the square; a neophyte may need to make contact with a bare hand before the distinctive
energy pattern can be felt.

The interweaving of energies that causes the tingling or pulsing sensation
sometimes is called the Portal matrix. It is this matrix that holds the coordinates of a
particular Portal and that must be Learned before an operator may use it. An adept can
learn the coordinates of a new Portal merely by standing on the Portal square, but
individuals memorizing Portal coordinates for first time use generally will place one hand
flat on the floor or ground, in order to complete a physical circuit and allow the psychic
information to percolate to appropriate levels of consciousness. Physical contact,
especially with a hand, also is helpful in attempting to locate an unknown Portal or one
grown weak through disuse, as when Duncan searches for a long-destroyed Portal site in
the ruins of Saint Neot's."

And she wrote this about the energy cost of using a Portal:

"Portal transfer requires an energy outlay on the part of the operator. This
outlay is nominal in the case of single short jumps by an operator whose handling of the
energies is efficient, but the drain on the operator can be cumulative if efficiency is less
than optimal or the operator must execute a series of jumps in a relatively short period of
time. In addition, very long distance jumps take considerably more energy than shorter
ones, perhaps in a geometric rather than arithmetic ratio. When Tiercel first begins
teaching Conall about the use of Portals, he warns the prince against overextending.

This would seem to indicate that a certain energy expenditure is required simply
to activate the Portal, each time the Portal is used – to which is added an additional
expenditure that is directly related to the distance to be traveled. The individual operator's
efficiency/ability level also would be a factor, as would the residual energy level of the
Portal itself."


This means, given proper training, which has been absent in Gwynedd for some time for the Deryni population. That detecting a portal, even a private one. And private means not common knowledge of it's "address" you could potentially still sense it even if you weren't standing on it. There are exceptions, the Portal that Camber/Alister made for example but not all portals would be of that nature.

And as we move into the world with technological advances with the Deryni magic as well. The detection of a portal could be done like we detect radiation or other forms of energy or even detecting the USE of a portal. "We have an energy spike in the portal wave length in section 87." The officer in charge sends a team to investigate the use of an unregistered portal.

Since the statement was about boarder enforecment. It would still be enforced but there would be additional methods. Just as tunnels under boarder happen today. With magic one would be detecting un authorized portals.
8
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by judywward on September 21, 2018, 11:35:00 pm »
I had to read the wedding scene again, it was so sweet & wonderful, so tender and sweet! I know they will have much love in their lives and probably a good bit of adventure, too. Great writing everyone!!
9
MerchantDeryni's FanFic / Re: Not quite fanfic
« Last post by MerchantDeryni on September 21, 2018, 10:25:23 pm »
The borders being non-existent comment was to argue that if a smuggling ring wanted to bring in drugs or sneak people into a country they could simply build a Portal on one side of the wall and then send a crew in to build a Portal somewhere within 300 miles of the border.

Lets use Mexico/USA as an example. A drug and human smuggling cartel could buy a house in Mexico near the border. They could build a Portal there. They send the Portal team north disguised as tourists and purchase a house within Portal range of the Mexican Portal. Then they shuttle drugs and people across the border without any issues.

They could extend their own clandestine network from drug lab or field all the way across the U.S.. Forget public portals, it is the clandestine ones you have to be worried about.

Larry Niven wrote about these sort of issues in his transfer booth series of stories (Flash Crowd and others  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flash_Crowd )

Imagine the Harry Potterverse with a drug cartel setting up their own Flue portal and smuggling in all the naughty critters and evil ingredients for Diagon Alley.
10
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by Jerusha on September 21, 2018, 07:49:03 pm »
Wonderfully done, revanne!
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by Jerusha
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by revanne
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Re: Ghosts of the Past by Laurna
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Re: Not quite fanfic by Bynw
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by judywward
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Re: Not quite fanfic by MerchantDeryni
[September 21, 2018, 10:25:23 pm]


Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by Jerusha
[September 21, 2018, 07:49:03 pm]

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