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  • File :1238457012.jpg-(243 KB, 1023x452, lovecraft-rock-band.jpg)
    243 KB Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)19:50 No.4137465  
    Continued from >>4131937
    (Pic related, the guy on the left).

    When the cities put out a call for explorers willing to venture into uncharted wilderness, the last person they expected to see was Ilsenhoon. A mindflayer as part of the expedition? Preposterous they said. But nonetheless, Ilsenhoon packed up his guitar and boarded a ship as they made way to the new lands.

    He was quite a hit on the ship, entertaining crew and passenger alike. He didn’t eat much of anything, except when the crew made up some kebabs, to get rid of some meat before it went bad (and really, that one passenger who ‘fell overboard’ hardly counted as a meal). He even offered spiritual wisdom for some who followed Pelor, keeping morale up with scripture set to music.

    When the ship landed, however, things were a different matter. The new jungles looked imposing and dense, but the worst part was the other ships. Somewhere along the way, any idea of cooperation and civility had gone out the window. Groups formed, each claiming land as their own sovereign nation. Truly, Ilsenhoon was impressed. He’d seen more monarchies, democracies and republics form and fall in a week than he’d ever seen in his life.

    Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder if humans and illithids really were so different. Every once in a while, he saw that spark. The illithid spark of control and domination. It made his heart warm, and yearn for home.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)19:53 No.4137497
    archive of the previous thread, just in case:
    http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/4131937/
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)19:53 No.4137501
    >>4137497

    Gracias, sir.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)19:57 No.4137524
    moar.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)20:03 No.4137594
    ...well?
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)20:04 No.4137607
    >>4137594

    Patience, grasshoppa
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)20:10 No.4137643
    Ilsenhoon soon found himself teamed up with a woodsman, both deciding to ignore the shore-side politics and do what they came here to do: explore. The elf ranger led them deep into the jungle, where they came upon several relics of considerable age. They found sculptures of snakes and scorpions, bronze swords that Ilsenhoon dated back at least two thousand years, of not more. Everything was in remarkable condition, despite the environment.

    The elf frequently remarked that what they found would be work a mint back in the cities, sold to the rich and powerful. Ilsenhoon shrugged. Money wasn’t really what he was after. Just uncovering the artifacts was good enough. For once, he was making the story himself.

    Each expedition into the jungles, Ilsenhoon noted a considerable change in his companion. At first the elf was content to store their loot aboard the ship, but he’d noticed lately it’d been sneaking small relics off, and burying them along the tree line when it thought no one was looking. Foolish elf. Its eyesight might put a human’s to shame, but it couldn’t see in the dark, not like Ilsenhoon.

    The snap finally occurred during one particularly extended trip into the wilds. While investigating a stone temple, overgrown with vines and trees, the elf discovered a large, thick tome, with a heavy gold cover. Ilsenhoon, eager to attempt a translation, requested the book.

    That’s when the elf lost it, “I knew it! You’re only after the money! You want my collection, don’t you? Well you can’t have it, flayer!” It dropped the tome, and drew both of its scimitars, sneering at the mindflayer cruelly.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)20:18 No.4137710
    >>4137643
    I don't know why, but all I can think is 'Yer afta me Lucky Charms!"
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)20:21 No.4137729
    >>4137710

    Damn, I knew I shoulda made him a gnome.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)20:35 No.4137849
    Ilsenhoon could only laugh at the elf, each chortle reverberating around in its head like an echo. EVER SINCE WE TEAMED UP, I’VE GAUGED YOUR ABILITIES. YOU ARE INFERIOR. EVEN IF YOU WERE AN ILLITHID, YOU WOULD BE INFERIOR.

    Furious, the elf charged forward, swinging both blades at him. Ilsenhoon ducked under the first and backed away from the second. He pulled his guitar into hand and played a powerful chord, directing the sonic wave towards his former ally, distracting it with reverberations long enough for him to retreat to a safe distance.

    When the elf regained its faculties, Ilsenhoon had already disappeared into the foliage. It searched nearby, finding nothing. “Come on out, coward! You’ll not get my collection!”

    COWARD I AM NOT. TACTICS, FRIEND. TACTICS, Ilsenhoon’s thoughts bellowed.

    “Your only tactic is cowardice!” the elf shouted, swinging a blade wildly at the closest bush.

    ARE YOU A FAN OF LIMERICKS? I’M NOT TERRIBLY FOND OF THEM. TOO SHORT, AND THERE’S HARDLY EVER A PUNCHLINE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR ONE?

    The elf tore another bush apart looking for its target.

    SINCE YOU’RE AN ELF, I’M SURE YOU’LL LIKE THIS ONE.

    THERE WAS AN OLD DWARF WITH A BEARD,
    WHO SAID, ‘IT IS JUST AS I FEARED!
    TWO OWLS AND A HEND,
    FOUR LARKS AND A WREN,
    HAVE ALL BUILT THEIR NESTS IN MY BEARD!’

    The elf grumbled an began thrashing at the temple altar madly.

    NOT EVEN A SMILE? THAT JOKE’S A KILLER, Ilsenhoon said, approaching the elf from behind. He reached out with one psychic hand and twisted something inside the elf’s head. Instantly it fell to its knees, gripping its sides in pain as it began laughing hysterically.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)20:49 No.4137954
    an illithid delivering limericks of comedic doom. This is almost as cool as the bit from the previous thread about him eating shishkebabs.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:02 No.4138054
         File :1238461375.jpg-(52 KB, 400x400, orcaristocrat.jpg)
    52 KB
    This is of excellent quality. Please, do you have more?
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:03 No.4138057
    >>4137849
    This is fantastic. Also, pre-emptive archiving: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/4137465/
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)21:11 No.4138114
    Ilsenhoon sighed softly and pushed the corpse of the elf away. Elves never tasted quite as delicious as humans. Too scrawny, that was the problem. You’d eat one, then thirty minutes later you’d want another. There’s no filling. Now humans, they’re good eating. Just enough meaningless knowledge and emotion to add flavor.

    He stood and wiped his tentacles clean before retrieving the golden tome and making his way back to the camp. What he returned to, however, was not what he’d left. Black-skinned humanoids in loose leather clothes had the crew of the ship in chains. They all had stark-white hair, and many had white tattoos covering their face and arms.

    Oh great, Ilsenhoon thought, Drow. Within seconds, half a dozen drow seemed to melt out of the jungle, quickly surrounding him. They all held forward curving blades, and brandished them in a menacing manner, although Ilsenhoon could clearly tell they were more than a little scared. Likely they’d never even seen an illithid before. The Empire didn’t particularly like to deal with the elves. They were nearly as arrogant as the beholders, but only half as cooperative. Usually when there was cause for diplomacy or trade, the Elder Brain would send a drow thrall to broker the deal, a wonderful gesture that always brought a smile to Ilsenhoon’s face.

    He just grinned at them all and raised his arms in surrender, WHITE FLAG, DROW. TAKE ME TO YOUR MATRIARCH.

    They all looked at each other before removing his equipment and tying him together with the rest of the captives. Little did they know, however, that Ilsenhoon managed to hide a lockpick, and that as they walked, he carefully fiddled with the cuffs.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:16 No.4138142
    >>4137465
    goddamn, i remember that picture
    >> Teens are still idiots. 03/30/09(Mon)21:29 No.4138263
    THIS IS AMAZING!

    I just wish he had some sort of real weapon, like a dagger or something. The whole guitar gimmick is AWESOME but its still not BADASS enough.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:30 No.4138278
    >>4138263
    He's not meant to be badass. He's a bard. Bard's don't need "badass". They've got STYLE.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)21:33 No.4138306
    >>4138263

    What, killing a githyanki by whacking it with a guitar isn't badass enough for you?
    >> Teens are still idiots. 03/30/09(Mon)21:35 No.4138317
    >>4138306
    No. ;_;

    I WANT TO SEE SOME PSYCHIC MIND BLAST or some shit.

    And I don't mean how he spock'd the guy.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)21:37 No.4138328
    >>4138317

    Psychic mind blast shit coming up.
    >> Teens are still idiots. 03/30/09(Mon)21:38 No.4138336
    >>4138328
    Fuck yes you are on the list of awesome writefags along with that guy who did the captain of the support IG artillery shit.

    How did that end?
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:40 No.4138351
    >>4138114
    Oh shit, Eberron drow? Did Ilsenhoon get banished across the planes?
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)21:45 No.4138397
    >>4138351

    Technically homebrew world. Different drow on different continents. Plus I just love Eberron drow.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)21:54 No.4138463
    It was a long walk back to the drow city. Surprisingly, it was not deep underwater. Instead, it was carved into the side of a deep canyon. The drow led the line of captives down several rickety ramps and finally into a large underground meeting hall. Opposing the entrance was a large stone throne, adorned with scorpions. The drow lined up their captives so that all were facing the throne.

    A moment later, the drow matriarch appeared from a hidden door behind the throne. It glanced up and down the row, its eyes settling on Ilsenhoon before it sat upon the throne.

    “Kneel!” One of the drow captors shouted, punching a crewmember in the stomach, making him double over onto the ground. The rest fell to their knees rather quickly, hoping to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Ilsenhoon remained standing, however.

    He took the cuffs off his wrists and let them clatter to the ground as he stepped forward. AN ILLITHID DOES NOT GET CAPTURED. AN ILLITHID MERELY PLAYS ALONG. ANY OTHER ASSUMPTION IS ASININE.

    The matriarch hissed an order, and the other drow in the meeting hall drew weapons and closed in. Ilsenhoon just gave them the wide grin again and thought to the matriarch, AND ALSO, BY THE TIME THIS IS ALL THROUGH, YOU WILL BOW TO ME, BITCH.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:58 No.4138488
    There is something especially awesome about that last line. THAT is badass. Not powerful weapons, not invincible armor, but only attitude defines badass.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:59 No.4138496
    >>4138488
    You mean the part where he goes completely out of character?
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)21:59 No.4138499
    >>4138463

    that bit in the first line should be deep underground, not underwater. Why the fuck was I thinking underwater?
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)21:59 No.4138503
    >>4138463
    Oh God, please continue.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)22:01 No.4138513
    >>4138496

    Eh, I prefer to think of it as him embracing his inner humanities. But breaking character could also be accurate. I haven't slept in the past 26-some hours, so that might affect it.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:01 No.4138516
    >>4138488

    If it were a little more eloquent, maybe.

    Is his dialogue mixing in with humanoid dialectics, thereby making him occasionally crass?
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:03 No.4138528
    >>4138496
    Not really. If you read it, he's always been contemptuous of every other race and has gone out of his way to provoke people several times. That line is completely in character.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:03 No.4138529
    >>4138496
    >>4138513
    >>4138516

    outofcharactermind?
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:05 No.4138542
    Sometimes the lesser races have ways to say stuff that puts it in better perspective than any fancy words can... It wouldn't suprise me that he learned that from his bardic heritage, the difference is he never had a point to really use it, until now.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:26 No.4138753
    moar?
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)22:42 No.4138881
    As the drow charged forwards, Ilsenhoon concentrated, drawing upon an ancient pact with the old gods. A bright light shone down upon him. The drow charging forward all looked into the light, their eyes narrowing a bit from the brightness. In the light they saw fast, unfathomable creatures of impossible dimensions, covered with eyes and tentacles, tongues and pustules. Before their eyes they saw a creature the size of a planet get swallowed whole by something no larger than a pinhead, and yet it remained the same size.

    The drow all shrieked in horror, turning from the light in such obvious pain. As the light dimmed, Ilsenhoon was half-way towards the equipment pile. The drow shook off the fear and turned their attentions back onto the mindflayer.

    Hearing a battlecry close behind him, Ilsenhoon turned backward, seeing a particularly large drow close behind, and let loose a storm of psychic energy towards it. The dark-skinned creature faltered for a moment before tumbling forward, and coming to a stop on the stone floor, blood oozing out its ears.

    Ilsenhoon reached the equipment pile and snatched up the guitar, before sliding to a stop while giving the instrument two quick strums, both chords conflicting violently with each other. The next drow charging towards Ilsenhoon fell to its knees, clutching its ears in pain.

    The third drow raised a hand crossbow and fired as the other three moved in. Ilsenhoon wasn’t quite fast enough, and the bolt nailed him right in the shoulder , the tip just barely poking out the other side. Giving the drow a loathing glance, he readied himself, but rather than strumming the guitar, instead he reached out with his mind, grasping the drow’s psyche and choked as hard as he could. In reality, the drow’s eyes turned bloodshot and blood began leaking out of his nose, ears and tearducts before he fell backwards.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:44 No.4138900
    Continue. We will graciously allow you sleep when the hivemind is sated, which has yet to come to pass. Still we hunger.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)22:53 No.4138972
    This story is relevant to my interests.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)23:02 No.4139058
    I'm stuffing my vagina, WITH BIRDS!

    Also, bump.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)23:05 No.4139080
    SATE THE HIVEMIND

    DU EET
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)23:20 No.4139200
    Three drow remained. They circled around Ilsenhoon, each holding a khukri at the ready. As one darted in, Ilsenhoon deflected the blow with his guitar, but the other two took the opportunity to strike as well, scoring deep cuts on his back. Ilsenhoon winced and pushed back against his main attacker, sending a sharp note after it, which cut into it light a knife, sending it reeling backwards.

    He spun round at the other two. COME ON, FELLAS. I’M SURE YOU’LL DO BETTER THAN YOUR FOUR FRIENDS. I MEAN, IT’S NOT LIKE THEY WERE YOUR SUPERIORS, WERE THEY? He laced the thoughts with magic, causing them to cut deep into the drow’s heads like timebombs, just waiting for the right time to off.

    One drow advanced, but the words caught up with it, and it hesitated momentarily, but long enough for the spell to complete. A quiet pop echoed around the room as a portion of the drow’s skull exploded outwards.

    Ilsenhoon stared at the final guard, HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF A BROWN NOTE? He asked, patting his guitar. DEATH IS ONE THING, HUMILIATING DEATH IS ANOTHER. The drow quirked an eyebrow for a moment before understanding dawned on its face. It backed away slowly before turning around and running at full speed out of the meeting hall.

    Looking proud, Ilsenhoon turned towards the Matriarch, NOW ABOUT THAT KNEELING THING. The Matriarch smirked, but said nothing. Instead she stood, narrowed her eyes and began to change. Her body shifted, armored plates grew on her flesh, a tail sprouted. Her arms grew into giant pincers. Right before Ilsenhoon’s eyes, the drow matriarch transformed into a giant, black scorpion, ready to fight.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/30/09(Mon)23:21 No.4139213
    >>4139200

    for the record, that timebomb spell thingy was effectively the Satire of Bravery spell, in case it seemed kinda awkward
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)23:23 No.4139227
    The adventures of Squiddy Sue.
    >> Anonymous 03/30/09(Mon)23:52 No.4139493
    What level is this guy suppose to be at anyways? The way he's tearing through these guys it's like he's Level 11+ while these guys are like level 5 minions.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/31/09(Tue)00:01 No.4139616
    Troublesome. He’d expected the matriarch to be a cleric, not some sort of druid. He backed off as the scorpion advanced, snapping pincers his way, and setting up a clear shot for its tail.

    He backed away into the rest of the captives, who, up until now, had been watching the fight with fear. Now as the giant scorpion scuttled towards them, they all stood and ran out of the cave, albeit awkwardly as they were still chained together.

    Ilsenhoon was at a loss. He dodged left and right, hoping to find an opening somewhere in the scorpion’s attack, but none presented itself. A quick snap caught the side of his left thigh, leaving a deep wound almost to the bone. Limping away, he made a quick, telepathic prayer to anyone who would hear him, asking for assistance.

    A stirring of an answer came… not from without, but from within. Several voices, all within his own thoughts began to voice themselves. They spoke of a being called the Summer Queen, and her songs. One of them flooded his head, and he couldn’t resist but playing a haunting, but powerful melody on the guitar. He instinctively aimed it towards the scorpion, which recoiled in pain with a chittering hiss.

    Ilsenhoon took the momentary opportunity to back outside, onto the rickety rope bridges that connected the canyon city. The scorpion followed after, but it didn’t seem altogether too stable on the planks.

    Ilsenhoon backed off onto the platform behind him and waggled a finger disapprovingly at the scorpion, and strummed two sharp notes on his guitar, sending the chords off like daggers to cut the ropes on the bridge. An almost human look of rage and despair hit the scorpion’s face as the bridge gave out underneath it.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/31/09(Tue)00:02 No.4139637
    >>4139493

    Actually, yeah, he is about level 11 now. He's tearing through them so easily because I don't think /tg/ would rather have several pages filled with "He casts Vicious Mockery at the drow, but it misses."
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)00:13 No.4139746
    >>4138463
    >YOU WILL BOW TO ME, BITCH
    I first read that as: YOU WILL BLOW ME, BITCH
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)00:15 No.4139765
    >>4139746

    Also good, but I do believe he lacks the requisite equipment for that.
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)00:27 No.4139869
    >>4139746
    And now I recall that line from the "Juggernaut Bitch" parodys...

    "You bow to me, now you blow me. You. Blow. Me."
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/31/09(Tue)00:32 No.4139922
    Ilsenhoon descended another set of bridges to the platform the matriarch landed on. Its body was broken, now fully drow again, leaving limbs bending in directions they truly shouldn’t. Ilsenhoon stepped on one of her hands, eliciting a sharp scream of pain from the thing’s gurgling throat.

    IT MAY NOT BE PROPER KNEELING OR BOWING. BUT IT SEEMS LIKE GROVELLING ENOUGH TO ME, his thoughts cracked in the matriarch’s mind. He bent down, lifting the drow’s head and began to wrap his tentacles around it. One slipped around the broken creature’s neck, strangling it, while two kept it still and the fourth made for the things eyes, wriggling into the sockets and bursting them like oversized maggots, so that even in death, the matriarch would be unable to see again.

    His mandibles dug into her skull and eagerly consumed her brainmatter, savoring the taste of new magic, new history and best of all, the flavor of a leader.

    Afterwards, he pushed the corpse off the edge of the platform, letting it fall to the bottom of the canyon before quickly departing the area, before more drow arrived.

    As he made it back to the campsite, he found the rest of the crew there, getting out of their shackles and packing up the ship, readying it to leave immediately. Giving the jungle one last look, Ilsenhoon boarded the ship as well and settled in for the long trip back.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/31/09(Tue)00:37 No.4139953
    I think that's all I got left in me... Perhaps I'll return later with tales of my exploiits.
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)00:40 No.4139972
    >>4139765
    Yeah, that confused me until I re-read it.
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)00:42 No.4139987
    >>4139922
    Mandibles? Illithids have lamprey like mouths.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/31/09(Tue)00:45 No.4140004
    >>4139987

    yeah, elsehwere in the story I'd also used the term beak... and the lamprey mouth. Just consider it all interchangeable terms for the same thing.
    >> Ilsenhoon 03/31/09(Tue)01:03 No.4140143
    Well good night all, I hope you enjoyed that, despite the glaring inconsistencies. I'm off to sleep now. Well deserved sleep, I think, considering I started the original thread... 18 hours ago.
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)01:20 No.4140275
    This better be here in the morning...
    >> Anonymous 03/31/09(Tue)01:24 No.4140304
    >>4140275

    If it's not, it'll be on suptg



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