Drhoz

Re: The cranky thread *sighs* Taxes calculated. Once again I owe the government more money. At least it's under $100 dollars this year, and most of it is the Emergency Flood Levy. The annoying thing is that I asked work to take a little extra tax out of my pay each week, so I wouldn't be hit with a tax burden come mid-year. And it still happens. Guess I'll be volunteering for extra Saturdays again.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... no idea. why?

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... dePledge's man and his entourage are escorted back to the landing site, to be kept under armed guard by Brother Gunhildr - his desire to exterminate anything that doesn’t live up to his own high standards makes him a poor choice for possible diplomacy. His reluctance to speak to anybody won’t help, either, although that may have something to do with the ball bearing in his larynx. Techmarine Tawhaki: When you hold the magnet up high his voice goes up, and when you lower it it goes down. It's like helium without the helium. Apothecary Hippocrates: Or testicles without the testicles. We press on to find these Eldar, find out what the dePledge chirurgeon is up to, and destroy whatever Webway portal the Eldar are using to trespass on an Imperial world. Tac-marine Telemachus: Thank you SO much for putting me, still wearing chapter marks from a chapter the Eldar despise and revile, in charge of a mission where we may have to negotiate with them. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: Clearly the Watch-captain was in fine form today. 'We've got Orks? Send the Orky guy. We've got Eldar? Send the Eldar guy.' 'But sir, we've got orders not to kill-' 'SEND THE ELDAR GUY. *sits back* I am the best Captain.' At least the debriefing report will be short. GM: Who can summarise? Apothecary Hippocrates: Landed tanks found mutants followed got shot by Elder shot them found truck. All: *applause* Techmarine Tawhaki: Bear in mind that there's Dark Eldar on planet too. Them, we can kill with impunity. So if they're spiky, shoot 'em. If they're not spiky, check first. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: What do you mean, two kinds of Eldar? Tac-marine Telemachus: There's Xenos, and there's Xenos plus Chaos. Techmarine Tawhaki: It's double heresy. Tac-marine Telemachus: The Heresy Has Been Doubled! Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: We need them to send down six titans - then we can combine them and fight as one giant robot. Techmarine Tawhaki: I'll get right on that. GM: Feel free to insert an ad here. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: *sings* Heresy Flakes! They stay crunchy - Even. In. Blood! The trip up into what the locals call the Mountains of Madness – a charming kind of nomenclature – is brought to a sudden halt by our two Razorback tanks coming under fire. Or at least, receiving a warning shot, from a weapon soon identified as an Eldar Vibrocannon, a sonic device of shocking destructive power. Naturally, most of us disembark at spreed, since the tanks make very good targets. Interestingly, the Eldar don’t follow up their advantage, and we can’t detect any other Eldar watching us. Telemachus gestures his desire to parley – after all, if we can force the Eldar to leave with no further shots fired, then we achieve the mission objectives and don’t risk warfare with their Craftworld. The vile Xenos have set up a communication station halfway up the slope. Apparently their psykers had predicted our arrival, and that this warning shot and parley was the best way to avoid a blood bath. Luckily for them, they were right. GM: *attempts Vulcan salute* Tac-marine Telemachus: *salutes back, actually managing the salute* Nanoo, Nanoo! All: *also all manages salute, and variants* GM: Ok, so my players have all demonstrated they have better manual dexterity than the GM. That just means you're all clever Mon-Keigh. Tac-marine Telemachus: Shazbot! Eldar leader Kaumangla: Greetings. How may we help you? Do you even know yet? Tac-marine Telemachus: > We seek information on your Dark Kin. Eldar leader Kaumangla: Clearly your augmentation has increased your intelligence. All: > Despite that insult, our orders (and recipe advice for MacIan) mean we don’t simply open fire. GM: His words are coming over your vox channel - or perhaps inside your heads. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: Oh, hello voice in my head, I’ll introduce you to the others. That's Barry, he's a real nutter but great fun at parties. Eldar leader Kuamangla: By the way, when you're making blueberries tarts you should use more accurate chronometers. Twenty minutes and 15 nanoseconds at 200 degrees will give you better results, especially if you use a little cinnamon on top. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: That's genius! I like you, Xeno, I'll purge you last. Kaumangla volunteers some interesting news – dePledge’s agent was not only there to trade with Xenos while inside Imperial borders, he was insane enough to attempt trade negotiations with Eldar and Dark Eldar at the same time. This will probably ensure we execute him when we resolve the case, regardless of the legal intricacies. GM: Possession is nine-tenths of the law, and right now you possess all the boltguns. Naturally, the opportunity to obliterate some Eldar without unwanted political ramifications is not to be missed, so we head back to the mutant township in a nearby caldera, and wait to ambush the raiders. This ambush goes very well indeed, and the Dark Eldar are extremely surprised when we expertly blow half of them out of the sky, before they decide that discretion is the better part of getting the fuck out alive, and retreat. They may have been alarmed by the way MacIan seized two by the ankles and used them as bladed weapons. Techmarine Tawhaki: Obviously these aren’t the Dark Eldar, they’re the Derp Eldar Apothecary Hippocrates: A-herp-a-derp-a-derp. Slightly more alarming is MacIan's choice of bedtime relaxation. MacIan’s player: ‘Once a character is on fire he takes one point of damage and one point of fatigue each round’ So... Regulus’s player: Yup. You can put something to sleep. MacIan’s player: MacIan can soak one point of damage a round easy! So when he really wants to go to sleep he just sets himself on fire Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: BANG! I hit jack shit. GM: Jack Shit dies. Techmarine Tawhaki: Poor bastard. Apothecary Hippocrates: Only untainted human on the planet and catches a stray round Regulus drives the point of a breeching auger through the chest of one of the raiders. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: Screw you! Assault Marine Regulus: Here’s their stones. Techmarine Tawhaki: Dark Eldar don’t use spirit stones. Assault Marine Regulus: Not those stones. Techmarine Tawhaki: At least whatever we do to them can’t be worse than what they would have suffered in the hands of the Dark Eldar. Techmarine Tawhaki: If you want to give the Dark Eldar a chance, Brother MacIan, perhaps you should tie both your hands behind your back? Pausing only to secure a few surviving Dark Eldar as gifts to the not-so-dark Eldar, and for Hippocrates to practise his enhanced interrogation techniques on, we head back towards the Eldar meeting point to get some of the raider’s records deciphered. That, and order the mutant township burned to the ground, on the grounds that some of the Xenos may be hiding there. With the Thunderhawk drop ship, orbital cruiser, and deciphered Dark Eldar data, we swiftly determine the position of the main Dark Eldar force, and move in to attack – especially interested in capturing the Dark Eldar leader and the Webway portal generator he is presumably carrying. The Dark Eldar don’t try to retreat – after all, they came here looking for victims to torture, and we’re coming to them. Techmarine Tawhaki: Silly, silly, Dark Eldar. That’s because we arrive with a regiment of Iocanthos Infantry, a thunderhawk dropship, a handful of tanks, and several thousand white phosphorus grenades. The entire forest and most of the Dark Eldar go up in flame. Even their leader catches a lucky round, and is dead by the time we get to him. And with THAT, it’s all too easy to really surprise the Craftworld xenos, by using the Dark Eldar device to break into the Webway, and emerge from the Eldar portal right behind them. And then proceed to set up demo charges on the portal, happily confident that if they open fire on us it’ll start a war we both want to avoid. Kaumangla agrees to a token duel to first blood, in order to save face after ordering his forces to fall back into the Webway, and after we secure the dePledge chirurgeon. MacIan is delighted for the chance at some one-on-one action, and both duellists manage to wound each other on the first swing. Kaumangla does get in the last word as he leaves. Kaumangla: I retreat in defeat and disgust, and hope we meet again someday. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: I hope we meet again too, byebye! Kaumangla: I hate you and your recipe for blueberry tarts still sucks. Assault Marine Gilroy MacIan: You’re a monster! *bursts into tears*

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... Bolos? I'm confident the investigators will do or say something to call down some much-deserved Highland wrath, though

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... Mah, more likely the kind of fun where the cultists sit back and relax, and the investigators get curbstomped to death by random locals outside a Glasgow pub.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... Not from me, at least not deliberately - my accents are *terrible*. I once got an award for how appalling my attempts were

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... They'll be heading up to Edinburgh and Glasgow later. I predict Fun.

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group...

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... The Papyrus scroll in question - used with Jason McKittrick's permission. ( see also his website Cryptocurium ) [ATTACH=CONFIG]44326[/ATTACH]

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... Hon. Lord Frontbottom: That's our peanut gallery - never oily, always dry. Call of Cthulhu, supposedly an investigation of horrors – and Frontbottom sunbathing in a thong certainly qualifies. Certainly, the stewards eventually come around and ask him to stop terrifying the other passengers. Spoilers ahead for The Mauretania and Death In The Post Frontbottom and Timmons attempt to identify the mystery priest, but discover that he is unlisted on the passenger manifest. Unfortunately, their bizarre excuses about why they have urgent need to talk to the priest, compounded with their earlier and subsequent behaviour, lead to a conviction among the Mauretania’s stewards that the pair are drunk. These behaviors include rifling through the luggage holds looking for stowaways, and checking every lifeboat for same. Timmons helps himself to a bottle of wine from somebody else’s luggage, reasoning he had to have some excuse for being down in the holds. Frontbottom is unconcerned by the possibility the crew will have him locked up for the rest of the trip, claiming he’ll escape into the ducting and become the Phantom of the Mauretania, emerging every so often to steal a meal or leave a seahorse’s head on the captain’s pillow. Although the crew do promise to take the claims of a stowaway disguised as a priest seriously, insofar as anybody can take the Monocle Brothers seriously. And perhaps they did, which is why the priest reappears, punches a steward in the face, and attempts to flee into the bowels of the ship. The eventual battle deep in steerage leaves three dead, but fortunately none of the investigators are among them. And the priest and his compatriots are revealed to be Bolshevik assassins sent to kill Krosov! Byron Timmons: What's so impressive about killing somebody with a bazooka? If someone came up to me and told me they're going to kill me with a pencil, and did, THEN I'd be impressed. Prof. Deborah Einstein: No you wouldn't, you'd be dead. There’s a certain amount of irony in the fact that a certain Lord Frontbottom and petite bourgeoisie Timmons manage to dispatch the Russian communists with stolen Mauretania silverware and a sword cane. Frontbottom extracts one of his purloined steak knives from the chest of the assassin. Hon. Lord Frontbottom: The king sends his regards. At least Agent Johnson can claim all the credit for himself and the anti-communist agenda of ONI, even if he missed the entire battle due to falling down the stairs and breaking three ribs on a potted palm. Of course, their triumph ensures their hope of arriving in London incognito are utterly quashed, especially since they already have a reporter in the party... NAVAL INTELLIGENCE FOILS ASSASSINATION OF RUSSIAN COUNT Dramatic Scenes On Cunard Liner In other alarming news, Frontbottom spends the next few days of the trip learning from the Givetti Grimoire. Hon. Lord Frontbottom: The world is suddenly a more dangerous place. I know Dominate. February 5th - The group stay in Southampton overnight, while they plan their investigations. Aldous Quinn: We'll have to go round the palace and get that photo for Mr McGinty. Use mind control on one of the Guardsman and get them to smile. GM: Is that really an appropriate use for your magic points and sanity? Getting through Customs presents some drama as well. Most of the party leave their guns at the docks until they leave the country again, having neglected to arrange for their ownership in the UK. The top-hat full of dynamite would be more difficult to explain, especially since the UK considers silk goods dutiable, but fortunately Customs doesn’t actually look inside the hat. Customs and Excise: Anything to declare? Byron Timmons: Yes, I'm cold and miserable. Happily, Prof. Einstein never went through with her threat to pack a hot air balloon, given the aforementioned tax on silk goods. However, the customs officers do take some time going through her underwear. Customs and Excise: Is there any duty on circus tents there, Bill? Prof. Deborah Einstein: I don't have any silk underwear. GM: It's hessian or nothing. Aldous Quinn: He says he's English nobility, and he acts like it. It explains how he gets away with what he does, too. Byron Timmons: Why do you even have me along to do the translating, when we're in a country that speaks English? Prof. Deborah Einstein: Because the people who sent you just wanted to get rid of you. Byron Timmons: ....No! Dad wouldn't do that! He pays for everything! GM: It's not like you went out kidnapping rival university's sports mascot. Byron Timmons: Only the once. Agent Johnson: And they never caught you. Byron Timmons: And they still haven't found it. Hon. Lord Frontbottom: We could always tell them Professor Einstein is a man - they'd probably believe us. Aldous Quinn: What's the one industry that survives financial upheavals? GM: Organised Crime? Frontbottom alarms Timmons with various jokes about the large number of knife-wielding maniacs that populate London – jokes that don’t seem quite so funny when one of the headlines is the following: EGYPTIAN MURDERS CONTINUE! Scoop Offers Reward! THE BODY OF AN UNIDENTIFIED FOREIGNER was found floating in the Thames this Tuesday, the 24th victim in a series of bizarre slayings. Though Inspector James Barrington of the Yard had no immediate comment, sources exclusive to The Scoop agreed that the victim had been beaten severely by one or more assailants and then stabbed through the heart. This series of murders has continued over the space of three years, to the bafflement of our faithful Metropolitans. Must we hope that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, though reported by Mr. Doyle to be in retirement, will one last time rise to the defence of our majestic isles? Readers of The Scoop are reminded that this esteemed journal has a standing reward for information leading to the apprehension and conviction of the perpetrators, in an amount now risen to £24 with the latest death. Be on guard! - THE SCOOP, Feb. 4, 1925 Byron Timmons: One pound per death? That seems reasonable Nonetheless, they decide to make visiting George Edmundson, Egyptologist, their priority, after Aldous makes reservations for himself at the Ritz. Aldous Quinn: I wouldn’t fit in at the Savoy. That’s for Old Money. Whereas the Ritz will take anybody’s money, as long as it’s real. Abbagale likewise books in advance – after all, Daddy is paying for it. Just as well it’s not the London Season, or neither of them would be able to get a room. Johnson, Timmons, and Frontbottom, after gagging for a bit on the pea-souper fog, ask a cabbie for advice, and he recommends a Temperance hotel. Clearly he’s an excellent judge of character and wasn’t very impressed by the investigators. Byron Timmons: Is the weather always so miserable? Agent Johnson: Well, it warms up about three degrees in summer. Byron Timmons: I can't stand it. I can see why the locals go around stabbing each other in the face. Aldous Quinn: Oh, I dunno. I kinda like it. Brisk. Byron Timmons: And you look like you've been stabbed in the face. Aldous Quinn: ... Hon. Lord Frontbottom: I'm sorry Aldous, he's young, and doesn't understand respect. GM: The kind of respect due to large, ugly, heavily muscled men Aldous Quinn: Who could squash your head like a grape. Timmons sets an equally poor example at the bank, when he’s purchasing a safe deposit box for any tomes they’re carrying, and at the nearby newsagency, where the locals patiently attempt to explain the intricacies of Imperial currency to the poor benighted Colonial. Hon. Lord Frontbottom: For God's sake, Timmons, you take your money, give it to the man, say 'thank you for not taking advantage of my stupid American companion' and go! February 6th - At least they’re on their best behaviour at Edmundson’s – they even leave the top hat stuffed with dynamite behind. Funnily enough, high explosives weren’t on the list of things banned at the temperance hotel. Although, no doubt, by the time they leave it will be. Edmundson wonders why they have a physicist in their party, and not an Egyptologist. Hon. Lord Frontbottom: We don't know either! There they make polite small talk over the excellent meal, and Johnson stomps heavily on Frontbottom's instep until he stops trying to pocket Edmundson's silverware, before retiring to the drawing room for cigars, port, and mystery. One mystery is why Jackson ever went there – according to Edmundson he only wanted to know about something called the Eye of Light and Darkness. Despite being an expert on Egyptian ritual beliefs, Edmundson could only theorise that it was an alternative name for the Eye of Ra, and recommended Elias try the d’Anastasi Collection in Leiden.That said, mention of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh does provoke one connection. By a curious coincidence, Edmundson recently came into possession of a papyrus, apparently a very early curse document that begs a certain Dark Pharaoh smite the author’s enemies. He has some doubts about the authenticity of the artifact, doubts soon confirmed by Quinn’s freakish knowledge of hieroglyphics and forgery, Timmons knowledge of archaeology, and Johnson’s unhappy ability to recognise a genuine Mythos spell when he sees one. GM: The same sort of freakish skill-set as Fluttershy's knowledge of high fashion? Although I don't believe Fluttershy was ever in Sing-Sing. The name in the cartouche – Niar Lat Hotep – variously translated as The Chaos at the Gate, or He Who Is Gratified by Sacrifice, also gives the investigators profound cause for worry. Despite their worries about possible dangers the scroll poses – especially in the hands of a collector of Egyptian occult material - Edmundson refuses to identify his source for the document, but promises to contact them and encourage them to talk to the investigators on the morrow. They return to their respective hotels, but sad to say their first visitors next morning are a constable and an Inspector from New Scotland Yard – Edmundson was horribly killed in the night. Aldous Quinn: Called it. Happily, the investigators can prove they left well before the death. Although, of course, that doesn’t mean they didn’t go back later, something that will no doubt occur to the Inspector once the corpses start piling up.

Re: New Pyramids! I have honking great reservations

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... Mr Jensen has been getting previews of the session tapes, and came up with this. I'm particularly amused by his ideas about parallels with other pop-culture - The Temptation of Harry Johnson by ~mokkurkalfe on deviantART An illustration for Drhoz' & the Perth Gamer Guild's game of Call of Cthulhu: Masks of Nyarlathotep; a recent episode had the much-beleagered agent Harry Johnson in a pickle - faced with the inquisitive questions from a female (gasp!) reporter, should he reveal to her the cruel, dark truths of reality, or find another solution? Perhaps I'm reading too much into these games, but it's interesting to note that the main villain/Great Old One/Outer God/supernatural-embodiment-of-the-Mythos of the current campaign (Nyarlathotep) is also known to manifest in the guise of the Father of All Bats (i.e. the gawddamn Batman). Meanwhile, the intrepid band of erstwhile investigators combatting the nebolous forces of San Bat, are led by McGinty (AKA the New England Shit Vortex, the Giggling Madman, the Drunk Irish Joker etc) and agent Rondale (a young man with a zealous determination to fight criminals and cultists alike, who suffered grievous facial injuries during the course of his career, and whose player has now adopted a new character: the faceman-stabbing maniac, Lord Frontbottom; a decidedly TWO-FACED approach to the Call of Cthulhu RPG). Oh, and we mustn't forget Aldous Quinn: a brawny behemoth who quickly came to fear, respect and adore Paddy McGinty (any claims you may have heard that Aldous is the illegitimate lovechild of Solomon Grundy and Harley QUINN, are totally spurious and vicious rumours!) ;P

Re: "Neat" Pictures Almost ridiculously pretty He'd be a male model for the cover of romance novels in Equestria, I suspect.

Re: "Neat" Pictures now that's a pretty pony (Yes, I know it's a horse - I wonder which breed?)

Re: Last Dance With Mary Jane... Vitus : *shrugs* not my problem. Anyway, if the authorities are going to complain about marijuana crops they'll want a word with his teammates - after all, we made Bangladesh's native cannabis forests (the country got it's name for a reason, people ) regrow one afternoon. A few hectares is nothing compared to 147,570 km2 Zero : Should probably do something about this. Stoned people broadcasting good vibes interferes with focused telepathy. ROVER : Would be deeply confused by all the contradictory information the mediasphere has on the subject. Would ask teammates for advice. Girl Anachronism : Help herself to some buds.

Re: Creepy Pics. Neat - caecilians are awesome amphibians Did you know that in some species, the young flay their mother alive for food? She gets better though...

Re: Creepy Pics. d'aww, what an adorable little jumping spider. I hope they didn't kill it :/

Re: A Thread for Random Videos The Olympic Ticket Scalper with Sir Patrick Stewart, Ryan Lochte, Simon Pegg & Maisie Williams

Re: How was it in the store? P Pretty much ditto. I have a very clear mental image of Vitus looking down suspiciously at whatever half-eaten food he had just bought for lunch.

Re: "Neat" Pictures well there's a thing because I know your brother via LJ Neat job on the video, btw

Re: "Neat" Pictures find this via my post on the other thread, or via elsewhere?

Re: Quote of the Week from my gaming group... *grins* well, no wonder they wanted shot of you

Re: More space news! As a friend of mine put it "Right. Bloody marvellous that we landed a one-tonne rover on Mars. A flying unit that descends on rocket power rather than wings, detaches a central unit that is actually an overland vehicle with digging tools. And flies off! Who let Gerry Anderson into the planning room?!" thusly...

Re: Royal Pain Vitus : Pick the brat up by the scruff of the neck and throw him into the Kingdom City dimensional vortex. If Slobovia complains, tell them to send a better behaved monarch next time.