Whatever happened to...?

[Large Hero]

Well met, sandwich man!

Ratface definitely was in the mindset of "this aide is either too big for his britches, thinking he can control a Templar, or he really IS able to influence a Templar, which makes him dangerous".

I loved that he was one of the few people who understood "taking business into the alleys" and that it wasn't an outright death sentence to go in there. He was willing to "learn" and picked up on things very quickly.

Ratface just didn't want to give up his favorite toy (the assassin that managed to kill a noble) and unfortunately, that toy let slip some damning information. I HAD to play Ratface true to character, which was to try and protect his assets and pin it on someone else, despite the fact that NOBODY EVER believed Alme was behind any of it. And as I've mentioned to people before, he'd probably STILL be alive if I, as a player, kept to the idea that Guild Bosses should stay in the alleys. I was bored and wanted some RP sessions, so I went to meet with someone southside and got caught.

As a player, I never believed Alme would get blamed for the assassination, but Ratface thought if he made the story believable enough, there would be some doubt, and he wouldn't have to give up his toy.

You hit a perfect storm of bad luck: 1) Alme happened to be sneaking around at the time and saw Ratface in the Commoner's Quarter, and then found him in the Ginka, and 2) Balthazar happened to be logged in at the time.

Alme was dangerous...he was able to influence Balthazar, to a degree (and as I said above, this is only because LauraMars was a fair and skilled enough roleplayer to allow that to happen; Laura was definitely OOCly aware of the times Balthazar was ICly being manipulated, and was cool enough to go with it).

But like I said, Alme tried to save people more than he tried to hurt them. He saved Ratface from death in the jails at least once, because unlike Balthazar, Alme knew that it was better to work with the Guild than to fight against them. Alme thought saving Ratface's life would be the start of a mutually beneficial business relationship...but I guess Ratface had other ideas.

If Ratface was more amenable to chilling out a bit, he could have been rich. But, when you started trying to get Alme killed directly, he needed to go. 

[Dar]

I remember I crit failed on someone and my 'not-so-mundane' identity got revealed. Thankfully it was some Red Stormer Half Giant raider. So I'm walking along the tradesman street, all wondering on what to do about it and there stands Balthazar. You! Come with me!

Holy fucking shit, that was fast! I fumble along with him to his dome meeting place expecting to get me head ripped off and it's just an info shake down. Ooooopphhhhhhh. I remembered this moment IRL where I think to myself, "I should probably start breathing again."

[sleepyhead]

I had one interaction with Balthazar and it was terrifying ICly and even OOCly. I was Seren, a fresh Oash servant. I ended up storing soon after to play in the Tablelands, but the fact that Balthazar was around in Allanak always made me question my decision. Great job.

[TheWanderer]

I genuinely enjoyed Balthazar and Alme. Sorry to hear the former was stored.

[Marauder Moe]

Clearly Laura is the best at crazy.

[WarriorPoet]

Balthazar was a shit head. We actively plotted on him for rl weeks but I think no one pulled the trigger because he created bonkers conflict and kept everyone anxious and alarmed.

I loved playing with him.

[Akaramu]

Clearly Laura is the best at crazy.

I'm not sure about that... Fathi does some awesome crazy, too. 

[LauraMars]

he created bonkers conflict and kept everyone anxious and alarmed.

This was my goal. Glad to hear it worked and that most people enjoyed it.

Large Hero (whose lavish praise has made me blush) is correct, Balthazar could be influenced - and rather easily, if you knew what buttons to push (of course, if you pushed the wrong ones...). I created him with such a thing in mind. I wanted him to be a weak character who still had a great deal of power, since that seems like a common "Templar" archetype few people are willing to explore in this game. There was a hilarious scene in the jails where someone (Ratface?) successfully negotiated his way out of execution by feeding Balthazar a sob story about how he was actually selling spice to make money to buy his poor sister an erdlu.  I think Alme may have been feeding him these lines. It worked though (much to my OOC amusement), and the guy walked free...that day.

Not as many people caught onto the whole 'Balthazar can be manipulated!' thing as I'd hoped.  I guess they were scared to try it. Understandable. But Alme was fantastic at it, and was a perfect lackey in general.  His willingness to play the 'straight man', obsequious toady, and act as a buffer between the public and a dangerous nutcase was nothing short of heroic. 

And yes, Alme saved many, many people from horrifying deaths.  A lot of characters ended up owing Alme their lives without ever even knowing it. It was a precarious tightrope to walk, and the poor dude got nothing but shit for it.  Only Alisima Oash (who was an out of this world character too OH YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW /craigmiddlebrooks) really understood the relationship between Alme and Balthazar. But she knew Balthazar better than anyone.

Also The Wanderer, the amount of OOC frustration and rage I experienced when Valorisk got snuffed was extreme. I was legit so mad, I actually cried. They had such a great rivalry. Practically every scene together was electricity and scary conflict. I was sad to see it end (and even sadder that I had nothing to do with it.)

[Zenith]

Not as many people caught onto the whole 'Balthazar can be manipulated!' thing as I'd hoped.  I guess they were scared to try it. Understandable. But Alme was fantastic at it, and was a perfect lackey in general.  His willingness to play the 'straight man', obsequious toady, and act as a buffer between the public and a dangerous nutcase was nothing short of heroic. 

This was fantastically amazing of both of you. LauraMars was the recipient of my first ever efforts to seriously manipulate another character in the game. I'd been playing for seven months and was legit shocked when it worked. Alisima accomplished many, many goals by letting Balthazar play with her hair. Literally nothing more.

Alme is perhaps my favorite Aide character ever. It was so enjoyable to watch his struggle, and to see how he supported his own goals, Balthazar's goals, and often my goals. He had this fabulously cocky side that I'm not sure how many people got to see. And there was a sense of kinship I felt with Alme in some ways. Like I could tell when he was thinking, "don't worry, we'll fix that (whatever new crazy thing Balthazar had done now) later." (Or maybe that was just me?) 

Only Alisima Oash (who was an out of this world character too OH YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW /craigmiddlebrooks) really understood the relationship between Alme and Balthazar. But she knew Balthazar better than anyone.

I honestly doubt I will ever find the sort of crazy, awesome, exhilarating RP again that we shared. You took me on such a ride, but I loved every single moment of it. Thank you for teaching me so very much. I would not be the player I am without you. <3

[Zenith]

The water witch elf? I got him killed for being a home-wrecking necker.

Did not.

He was my first ever PK, albeit by proxy. See above and the hair-playing.

[LauraMars]

The water witch elf? I got him killed for being a home-wrecking necker.

Did not.

He was my first ever PK, albeit by proxy. See above and the hair-playing.

Confirmed. Sorry, BadSkeelz. Zenith gets to claim this one.

[TheWanderer]

Also The Wanderer, the amount of OOC frustration and rage I experienced when Valorisk got snuffed was extreme. I was legit so mad, I actually cried. They had such a great rivalry. Practically every scene together was electricity and scary conflict. I was sad to see it end (and even sadder that I had nothing to do with it.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gs069dndIYk

Likewise. Alas, there is no valor without the risk. Maybe I'll eat you next time.

[BadSkeelz]

The water witch elf? I got him killed for being a home-wrecking necker.

Did not.

He was my first ever PK, albeit by proxy. See above and the hair-playing.

Confirmed. Sorry, BadSkeelz. Zenith gets to claim this one.

Aww, not even partial credit for giving Zentih's PC as poor an impression of Tears as I possibly could?

[Large Hero]

Balthazar and Alme have just concluded a meeting about political matters. Let's put Balthazar in blue and Alme in green.

At long last, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar stands up from a large round table in the center of the room.

You stand up from a large round table in the center of the room.

You say, in sirihish:
     "Shall I make arrangements to have your party in some weeks, at the time we spoke of? I have not yet made those arrangements, given...events, Lord Templar."

Pointing a finger towards you, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "This is at the forefront of my mind, Alme. But outside these walls...not a word. Not a thought. Not a single breath of what we have spoken of will pass your lips."

Immediately bowing, you say, in sirihish:
     "Of course, Lord Templar."

Addressing your earlier question, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Oh. Well, I suppose we may as well. It seems less exciting somehow, all things considered. Perhaps we will just make it a small, general announcement on Meleth's Circle. "

You ask, in sirihish:
     "So...not a party. Only an...announcement. Wine, food - no?"

With a wave of one hand, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "No, no. Just an announcement, I think that should do. Oh, and Lady Alisima and I have quite repaired our friendship. "

Rising from his bow, you say, in sirihish:
     "That gladdens me, Lord Templar. It is good. It will strengthen you."

His ugly features assuming an expression of regal sacrifice, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "I see now I was wrong, all wrong, to shun her. It is not her fault I am marrying someone else."

The short, pech-haired man's eyes pop wide.

You say, in sirihish:
     "Oh. I thought. You were marrying her. Lord Templar."

Shaking off his noble expression and gazing in shock down at you, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar asks you, in sirihish:
     "Whatever gave you that impression?"

In deadpan, blunt logic, you say, in sirihish:
     "I assumed your announcement was of marriage, and I was not aware that you were involved with anyone else."

With a dreamy chuckle, moistening his lips indecently, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "But of course I am, Alme. The love of my life. The ginka of my eye!"

You ask, in sirihish:
     "...Lord Templar?"

Seeming in quite good humor by whatever thought occupies that...brain of his, chuckling to himself, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar asks you, in sirihish:
     "Yes, Alme?"

You ask, in sirihish:
     "Who..?"

You say, in sirihish:
     "You've, ah. Never mentioned their name. In my presence. "

Beginning to look rather severe, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Of course I have. I must have referred to her hundreds of times."

You think:
     "No, never."

You notice: A dangerous glint appears in the sallow, bowl-shorn templar's wet grey gaze.

The short, pech-haired man turns slightly, away from the sallow, bowl-shorn templar's eyes.

You say, in sirihish:
     "Ah...please, indulge your servant's faulty memory, Lord Templar. "

You say, in sirihish:
     "Sometimes, I am very stupid and forgetful."

Tapping the side of his nose, all good humor restored, as he indulgently chuckles at you, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "Oh, my dear servant. My dear and loyal servant. Aaah, Alme. My good servant Alme!"

Quietly, still looking away, you say, in sirihish:
     "I am that, Lord Templar."

His gaze sparkling like he has just recieved thirty years worth of birthday presents at once, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar whispers to you, in sirihish:
     "It is a surprise!"

You ask, in sirihish:
     "To...me?"

Clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace, his expression noble and lofty once more, well, as noble and lofty as such an ugly face can be, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "To the city! They must be surprised by the most excellent union I am about to..."

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Well, that I am about to embark upon."

With resignation, as if unwilling to probe further, you say, in sirihish:
     "Very well, Lord Templar. It shall be a surprise."

Nodding sagely, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Yes, Alme. Yes. Well, I must go and see my sweet, lovely erdlu, Sapphire, before I meditate."

Changing topics quickly, you say, in sirihish:
     "You asked me the other week to probe into House Kadius, Lord Templar. I cannot do this effectively, yet. But I have a plan. It will be very easy."

You ask, in sirihish:
     "I do not think you care overly much if that Zhaka Kadius dislikes you. Am I correct?"

After a longing glance to the door, and the things which might lie behind it, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Oh - do you? Wait - Zhaka Kadius - he dislikes me? How strange! I was under the impression he favored me, given the amount of donation he has shoveled my way."

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "But I do not care what a peasant thinks of me, no."

The short, pech-haired man stops, suddenly, frozen.

Alme remembers something Balthazar said on a prior occasion.

You think:
     "Earlier, he said..."

You ask, in sirihish:
     "Why does Sapphire need a wedding present, Lord Templar?"

With another indulgent chuckle, giving you a warm, comrade-like slap upon the shoulder, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "Ah, my clever servant, Alme. I can't keep anything from you!"

The short, pech-haired man regards the sallow, bowl-shorn templar with uncloaked, wary suspicion, his squint not abating even as he's clapped.

Coolly, slowly, you say, in sirihish:
     "I've heard it said...that I don't miss anything."

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar just chuckles and nods, continuing to pat you on the shoulder.

The short, pech-haired man lifts a hand to his head, and rubs the bridge of his nose and forehead, as if he were suddenly struck with a great headache.

Briskly brushing his hands together as he sets off for the door, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Well, I really must meditate."

With a hearty chuckle, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar opens the door.

Striding forth from the meeting chamber, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "A most excellent servant you are, Alme! I confess, all my troubles seem to melt away to nothing when we speak!"

The short, pech-haired man can't seem to move.

Just assuming his servant will follow him, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar walks west.
You follow the sallow, bowl-shorn templar, and walk west.

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar begins to stroll towards the stairway, his head up, his stooped shoulders back, arms swinging at his sides. He doesn't seem to have a care in the world.

You say, in sirihish:
     "Lord Templar...I, ah...left my...bag...containing your letter. In the room. And it isn't...proper."

You exclaim, in sirihish:
     "For me to be there. Alone. Very...improper. Will you, ah. Accompany me. Briefly. Back into the room. Yes!"

With a gasp, swinging around to notice you behind him, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar asks you, in sirihish:
     "You did? My letter - in the room - really???"

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "Alme, how could you be so irresponsible!"

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar hurries back in, peering about the meeting chamber.

You close the door.

You say, in sirihish:
     "Oh. Silly me, Lord Templar. I have it with me. Pardon me for wasting your time. "

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar looks from the door to you.

You notice: A suspicious look begins to cross the sallow, bowl-shorn templar's homely face.

You ask, in sirihish:
     "Where, ah. Where will Sapphire be? During the announcement?"

Beginning to slowly reach for the door handle, his gaze fixed upon his short little buddy, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "By my side, of course."

You say, in sirihish:
     "Why? Why of course, Lord Templar? She isn't normally by your side."

You think:
     "ARE YOU GOING TO MARRY YOUR FUCKING ERDLU"

The short, pech-haired man smiles, in an utterly false manner.

Beginning to sound quite baffled at your current attitude and demeanor, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar asks you, in sirihish:
     "Because - we are - why wouldn't she be? Given the circumstances?"

You say, in sirihish:
     "The circumstances! The circumstances of a...Templar. Making a wedding announcement, to a Lady of Allanak! Yes. A highborn, human lady of Allanak. "

You exclaim, in sirihish:
     "A Lord Templar would want his trusty erdlu at his side, yes. During that announcement. The announcement which does not otherwise involve the erdlu!"

The short, pech-haired man looks at the sallow, bowl-shorn templar almost beseechingly.

At this speech of yours, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar frowns deeply, he frowns darkly. He frowns most forbiddingly at his servant, you.

Looming over you, his features grim beneath the mushroom-shaped dome of his haircut, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Alme, I am beginning to be troubled by your persistence...on this topic."

Skipping the questioning of it, skipping the why-the-fuck of it, and coming from a different angle, you ask, in sirihish:
     "Why...Lord Templar...must it be -public-?"


After spending some time considering your question, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Because, my servant. It will give the people hope. It will give them encouragement. It is..."


The sallow, bowl-shorn templar flaps his hands in circles, grasping for just the right words to say what he is about to say.

The sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "It is the right thing to do. Besides, my endless devotion to my future wife cannot be understated, no! "

You think:
     "I have to kill this fucking erdlu."

You say, in sirihish:
     "And the Lady Alisima. Knows that you are...going to marry...your erdlu."

The short, pech-haired man says this slowly, bluntly, with barely-concealed derision.

You think:
     "By the fucking Highlord, save me."

With a pleased smile that bends his perpetually grimacing mouth into a more upwards-seeming direction, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Ah, no. I told her it was a surprise."


You notice: The sallow, bowl-shorn templar watches you closely.

(The short, pech-haired man seems to have a delay in his reactions, as if his brain were processing too much.)

Slowly, with very practiced neutrality, you ask, in sirihish:
     "And you think she will be filled with hope and encouragement, on learning that she will be passed up in favor of your erdlu, Lord Templar?"

Looking past your shorn scalp at the wall beyond, his features once more suffused with noble suffering, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "She does not think that way about me, Alme. We are only friends. She has stated repeatedly that she has no romantic interest in me."

You say, in sirihish:
     "...and you would prefer Lady Alisima. To, ah. To..."

Struggling with it, you say, in sirihish:
     "To Sapphire."

Nodding his head sagely, wisely, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "In truth, I do feel much the same way for her. A great deal of strong affection - a great deal, a very great deal - she is very wise and very sweet - but that is where it must end for us."

Turning a fraction away, and nodding just as sagely, but at the wall, you say, in sirihish:
     "And the true depth of your affection can only be returned by Sapphire, your erdlu."

Instead of answering you, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar just exhales a sigh, intaking the sight of the ceiling as if the answers to the world's most puzzling questions were written there upon the tiles.

Murmuring the single word, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says, in sirihish:
     "Sapphire."

Beginning to turn towards the door, his movements energized, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims, in sirihish:
     "I must go and see Sapphire!"

You say, in sirihish:
     "You know, Lord Templar. A noble marrying a highborn is a ridiculous idea, isn't it? Marriage. Marriage is...a contract? Yes? It's not...a relationship. It's a business arranagement."

You exclaim, in sirihish:
     "You can't enter into a business arrangement with an erdlu!"

Whirling around to gnash his teeth at you, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar exclaims to you, in sirihish:
     "It is a union of hearts!"

Thunderously, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "And you can't tell me what to do! You are a mere peasant! You can advise! You can suggest! But no - you cannot order me."

You exclaim, in sirihish:
     "...you will hand Valorisk Borsail every victory in all your future rivalries, with this, Lord Templar!"

You think:
     "Appeal to that. It will work. "

His grey gaze flaring wide, his expression one of pure lunacy, shaking his fists at the ceiling, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Valorisk Borsail...Valorisk Borsail...I demand he be present at the announcement, Alme. I demand it."

After a long pause, you say, in sirihish:
     "...allow me to accompany you to see Sapphire, hm? If this is to...go on, I should buy her a bloody present! A...collar, from Kadius, maybe."

You think:
     "I just want to see where she's kept. The guards. That sort of thing."

Nodding his head a few times as he strides for the door, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "At last, you see sense."

They depart.


It's gold, Jerry! Gold!

[LauraMars]

That scene remains one of my favorite Armageddon memories. It was a glorious culmination of weeks - MONTHS - of story build up as Balthazar dropped hints of his affection for Sapphire everywhere I could realistically slide them in. I have never laughed so god damn hard at anything that has ever happened in this game ever. I'm talking uproarious laughter of the sort that made my husband enter the room and ask "What the fuck is going on right now?"

Alme's portrayal of frustration and confusion and shocked surprise was so picture perfect (and so indicative of the emotions his player must have also been experiencing), it still causes me a delicious shiver of  sadistic glee whenever I recall it.

[Feco]

That was incredible.

Incredible.

[WithSprinkles]

That whole scene was awesome, thanks for sharing. From the moment Alme started screaming in his own head in the log, I was cracking up.

[WarriorPoet]

I was involved in some of this on the fringes and I honestly thought it was all gossip and bullshit.

You people are magnificent.

[deathkamon]

That was one of the greatest logs I think I'll ever read. I actually remember playing as a Borsail servant (Holzen) at the time Balthazar was around, and he was piss scared of Balthazar.

[nauta]

Alme, you were supposed to fill those vials with Aide Aida's tears! (Love, Big Bush.)

[WithSprinkles]

Aww, you were Big Bush? (hug with hearts) I loved that character!

[whitt]

The water witch elf? I got him killed for being a home-wrecking necker.

Did not.

He was my first ever PK, albeit by proxy. See above and the hair-playing.

Confirmed. Sorry, BadSkeelz. Zenith gets to claim this one.

Peering at your face, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "Are you crying because you're sad, or because you're leaking? No matter."

Striding a step closer to you, hooking fingers into your gem to pull your face close to his own, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar asks you, in sirihish:
     "Any last words, elf?"

The silver-eyed, sleek elven male shudders, flinching as the sallow, bowl-shorn templar's fingers near your dull black gem.

Loosely folding his arms across his chest, quite chipper in demeanor as he remarks, the short figure in a golden-beaded, crimson silk greatcloak says to you, in sirihish:
     "I can't wait to hear you scream."

You say to the sallow, bowl-shorn templar, in sirihish:
     "His... Shadow... Protects."

Giving a sharp nod to the soldier holding you in his grasp, the sallow, bowl-shorn templar says to you, in sirihish:
     "It does. But not you."

[lairos]

I have some very fond and crazy memories of all the characters involved in these recent posts. Thank you to each of you 100 times over.

[Refugee]

Someday I'll share more, but I just want to add to the accolades. Valorisk+Alisima+Balthazar... Holy shit you guys.  Thank you for the amazing fun.   

Also Alme and Ratface...someone did think it was possible and was hunting.

[Miradus]

Alme, you were supposed to fill those vials with Aide Aida's tears! (Love, Big Bush.)

Big Bush was one of the very first characters I met as a newbie and convinced me I liked the roleplay here. Also probably my first kudos sent too.

*hat tip*