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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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I look around again, trying to get a feel for how the fight is going. Buri and Sloane have more or less finished their opponents and are just mopping up. Galen is soundly beating a bandit with his wooden staff, precise economical movements striking his enemy in all the right spots to send him tumbling to the ground. Blake is hacking apart one unfortunate bandit who he snuck up behind. Well then, all is going well, I think. Wait a second, where’s Sal’vir? I look around again but don’t see him, only my other friends and the swiftly decreasing number of bandits. Then I hear a high pitched shout.

“Someone help!”

Ah, there he is.


Old threads here.


1d4chan page here.


Tvtropes page here.


Please feel free to contribute to either of the articles.
The audience is listening.

Coming right up.
I hate you so god damn much.
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That's just rude.
Well, I had to be honest.


I can understand disliking the story, but you can just go right past it and not read.

Hatred implies I am doing something terrible to you.

Stop overreacting.

I whirl around to look for the elf, seeing him on the edge of the fight. It seems that the elven mage has once again run out of spells at a bad time, waving his hands uselessly at the onrushing bandit. He turns to run and makes it a little way, before tripping on a tree root an falling face first onto the ground. The poor guy doesn’t have a hope in hell of making it out of this alive if I don’t help, so before the thought even reaches a conscious level I am already moving after the bandit with all the speed I can muster.

Sal’vir is looking up at his soon to be killer with wide terrified eyes. The bandit raises his blade over his head and starts to swing down. Then he is struck from behind with a sudden extreme force and falls to the ground. I imagine he would be shouting right now, if not for the pair of long fangs buried in his neck, piercing down into his chest cavity. I wrestle on top of him, constricting a little to keep hold as I empty my venom glands into my opponent, wrenching my fangs back and forth just to make sure he dies. His twitching convulsions stop after a few moments and he lies still. I glance up to Sal’vir, who is looking back in white faced terror. Understandable, he did nearly die after all.

I wrench my fangs from the corpse’s neck with a fresh spray of blood before slithering over to the elf.

“You alright?” I ask, reaching out a hand to help him up. He stares back up at me seemingly still scared, so I smile widely and wave my hand insistently.

After a few moments he finally accepts my hand.

“I’ll be fine.” He says quietly, “Um, you have a little, uh.” He points to my face.

I wonder what he’s talking about so I reach up and wipe my mouth, my hand coming away bloody. I look down to see my front stained with the blood running from my mouth.

“Right, sorry.” I say.

Eating dinner, just a moment.

Sal’vir rises shakily to his feet, leaning on me for support. The elf’s heart is still going like a snare drum from what I can feel, and he’s having a little trouble walking he’s so jittery. I put my coat over his shoulders and hold him up with an arm as we go back to the others, and that seems to calm him down at last. I look around to see nothing but bandit corpses where the fight had taken place, Galen tending to a few injuries on Buri and Sloane. He turns to see me drenched in blood with Sal’vir propped up in my arm and rushes over.

“Solaron, are you okay?”

“It’s alright,” I say, waving him off, “Not my blood, most of it anyway, tend to Sal’vir, he needs it more than I.”

Galen nods and starts to check over the elf while I head on over to the two redoubtable warriors.

“Job done?” I ask, looking over to the wagon.

“Guess it is.” Buri says, staring at the long patch of crimson staining my front scales. Sloane is staring as well, but he gets over it, looking off in another direction.

“Not going to waste time searching now, just load up and get the wagons back to town.”

I nod, then grimace as I hear Blake’s voice behind me.

“So, elf,” He says, “Couldn’t handle just one itty bitty bandit on your own? Had to call on your beloved to come and save you? Again?” Sal’vir purses his lips and looks away very annoyed, letting Galen tend to a bump on his head.

I scowl a bit, and lean over to Buri, whispering in his ear.

I wait off to the side, watching Buri walk over to where Blake taunts the elven mage who is still resolutely avoiding eye contact.

“You doing alright over here?” Buri asks. Galen quietly informs him that the injuries are repaired and there is no danger. Sal’vir is about to say something but Blake cuts him off. The small rogue launches into descriptions of his own heroism, whilst lambasting the elf for his near death and failure, placing a wrist to his forehead and play-feinting.

“Oh Solaron come save me again!” He says in a high pitched voice. Sal’vir grimaces but does not say anything. I sense the time is right and start to slither over behind Blake. When I get close Buri looks over to me.

“Doing okay there Solaron?” He asks cheerily.

“Just fine.” I say equally brightly.

Blake turns to look at me, and I have a laugh silently as the color drains from his face. I rear up and stretch my arms under the bright sun, the long crimson stain on my scales flashing in the light. I open my mouth wide and deploy my fangs, drops of venom glistening in the light before falling to the grass.

“But that bandit was nowhere near enough for me.” I say.

“Enough for what?” Buri asks, trying to keep a straight face.

I stroke my puffed out gut, “Dinner of course, still a bit hungry. Terrible appetite we have, Yuan Ti. Sometimes we just have to eat something, or rather somebody.”

I flare my fangs again and smile at Blake, a drop of blood running from the corner of my mouth.

A few seconds later the quiet of the road is broken as Blake runs past Sloane shouting “Help, help he’s going to eat me!” At the top of his small lungs.

I am of course not trying to eat him, as even moving very far would be difficult right now seeing as how I’m convulsing on the grass in paroxysms of laughter. Buri is wiping tears from his eyes and even Sal’vir has finally stopped scowling and started smiling. After Sloane finally manages to pull Blake down from the tree he had been hiding in we get into the two wagons and start heading back to town, Blake refusing to sit in the same vehicle as me. Sloane refuses to leave the little rogue alone with the loot though, so I ride with Buri and Sal’vir. The dwarf is still breaking into chuckles every few minutes.

“Oh, that was magnificent lad.” Buri says after he finishes his latest fit of laughter. “Never seen him jump like that, who knew he could move so fast.”

“Quite satisfying.” Sal’vir says, “Thanks for that.”

“I never liked bullies.” I say, winking back at Blake who ducks out of sight.

“Blake isn’t that bad really,” the elf says, “he just doesn’t think about how his words affect others.”

“More like he doesn’t care.” Buri snorts.

“Well, thanks anyway.” Sal’vir says again.

“No problem, that was fun.” I say as I try to scrub the last stubborn bits of blood from my scales.

The journey back to the estate of Sir Barkley passes without anything nearly as exciting, though Blake’s continued skittishness around me continues to amuse.

Eventually he warms back up though and his good humor returns, though he insists that he knew all along and was only playing along with the joke for our sakes. He seems quite convinced of this, though when Sal’vir looks behind him and says “Oh hi Sol” the way he whirls around seems to put the lie to his claim. After a few days travel we reach Sir Barkley’s country estate, the nicely appointed grounds stretching off over flat plains and rolling hills, a large manor house rising up to dominate the skyline. We are met at the gate by a number of footmen in colorful livery who take possession of our appropriated wagon.

“Everything but the staff is ours!” Buri growls at them as he watches over the footmen pawing through the bandits possessions. After a little while the footmen secure a long wooden staff and place it in a hardwood box before carrying it back up to the manor. One of the men hands us a bag of gold and thanks us for our service before turning away.

“Can’t we stay for a while?” I ask before Sloane can shush me.

The footman turns around and comes back over frowning.

“I am sorry sir but…” He gets a good look at who had spoken and takes a moment to regain his composure, “but Sir Barkley is busy at the moment and cannot entertain guests.”

“Thank you very much.” Sloane says before trying to pull me back into the wagon.

“Such a shame.” I say, “I would have liked to get to know him more, discuss business or future assignments, it would be a shame for him to lose contact with a group such as us, and vice versa, we could really help each other out in the future.”

Sloane is still trying to force me into the wagon, trying to lift me in. It doesn’t really work because I just slip through his hands and lie over his shoulder.

“Maybe the lad’s onto something.” Buri says, “Could be useful to keep this contact open.”

I lay my best smile on the footman, who is considering the proposal.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he says after a bit, “I shall go and ask up at the manor hall, please wait here.”

Sloane looks up at me. “What have you done this time?”

Have to go walk the dog now, and you know what that means.

Discussion time!

Today's topic: Yuan Ti culture!

I talked a bit about Yuan Ti culture earlier, but let's expand it a little. Discuss ideas you may have and post suggestions or questions for me when I get back, anything I like will be worked into the story as best I can.

Could be anything from formal attire, customs and traditions, or just little things that they do that are different from humanoid races.

Nothing is too crazy or bizarre, the worst I can do is refuse to use it in the story, so let's hear whatever you've got!
Formal attire: Stripper wear.

Customs: Rite of Passage in the form of apprenticeship

Quirks: Overthrowing the civilizations of the puny warmbloods, sunbathing, a fondness for beaches, deserts, and oceans, respect for authority (of the Yuan Ti variety), a lack of preconceptions about what people look like, considering the Pure Bloods...
what are the racist slurs for Yuan Ti?

if you kill another Yuan Ti especially family or a one at a higher station are you applauded or shunned?

are they immune to other Yuan Ti poison, their own poison, and do they have a level of toxicity that they are immune to?

Your description of formal attire is somewhat apt, though there is nothing sexual about it... At least not for most of them. My friend described it like a peacock strutting with its feathers out, it's all about decoration.

The rite of passage is a cool idea, it's basically what Sol's dad tried to get the bandits to do, they just failed horribly.

The quirks are interesting, and all make sense. They clearly love to laze about in the sun and those long bodies would make them great swimmers. True they overthrow the kingdoms of silly little mammals, but only when they have a reason to.

And I think Sol has no conceptions about appearance, so that's a neat idea.


Racist slurs Yuan Ti say about others, or are said about them?

If you get caught you are charged for murder, if not you might get a quiet tip of the hat. The Yuan Ti are not the Drow who exist on a steady diet of backstabbing murder and pointless cruelty, the snake people are sociopaths, not psychopaths, the difference is important.

And I would think they would be immune to their own poison, with a major resistance to the venom of others. Also, they have considerably more body mass than a human of roughly equal proportions, so it would take a lot more toxin to cause problems.

This would also mean that they have a high tolerance for alcohol...

Sorry guys, but I'm calling it for the night.

I have been too tired to write much for a few days and that is unacceptable, therefore I am going to bed early to get back on track for nice long days of energetic writing.

Thanks for reading.
Good Night, author man.
bump to keep it alive for tomorrow, because this is just plain sad to have it this small.
friendly bump
In 3.5, venomous creatures are immune to their own poison.

I can’t think of anything to say so I simply grin back at him as we await the return of the footman. A few minutes later he returns, seeming surprises but hiding it well.

“Sir Richard Barkley has, in his great wisdom, elected to grant your request. He bids you to the manor house where he will attend you later, as he is currently occupied with matters of the house. This way please.”

I flash Sloane another grin as he rubs his brow in a very tired way. We hand our wagon over to a few other footmen who take our belongings up to the house, before we are led to the entrance hall. This house is quite nice actually, a bit more ostentatiously appointed than the hall of Mrs. Bing, with vases and statuary lining the walls. The footman waits at the door, a valet taking over once we enter the house.

“Welcome honored guests and,” He looks at me, “… Snake Person, I bid thee welcome to the grand hall of the illustrious Sir Barkley.”

The valet looks us up and down, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Perhaps after such a long time on the road it would be agreeable for you to bathe and get a change of clothes before continuing further. I shall see to the washing of your… garments.”

I look down at my somewhat foul traveling coat.

“Sounds like a great idea.” I say, undoing my coat.

The valet’s eyes go wide for whatever reason, and I shrug off the coat and hand it to him.

“Do you want the belt too?” I ask, starting to unbuckle it.

“No, that will be fine.” He says quickly, “The baths are that way!” He pointe energetically over his shoulder while looking up to the ceiling.

I follow his gaze, trying to figure out what is so interesting that he is looking at. After a moment I give up and head on over to the baths, unbuckling my belt as I go.

Humans are weird.
Best time of the day has arrived

In any case I find the rooms easy enough and deposit the remainder of my gear as I wait. A few minutes later a pair of maids come in and pour some hot water into the tub, only occasionally sneaking a glance up at me despite my attempts to engage them in conversation. After they leave I sink down into the best bath I have had since I left home, nothing really beats some steaming hot water to just relax into. I lie there for who knows how long, maybe dozing off at some point, before I actually set about cleaning my scales. I go about it for a little while, finding using soap of actual decent quality quite a refreshing novelty, before there is a knock at the door.

“May I uh, come in?” I hear Sal’vir’s muffled voice through the door.

“Of course.” I say, putting the soap down.

A moment later the door opens and Sal’vir steps in, peering about in the dim room.

“Sol, where are you?”

“Down here.” I give him a little wave.

Sal’vir blinks twice and does an about face, staring resolutely at the wall.

“Sloane was wondering if you were done, the rest of us are heading to eat and he was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“Oh, sure.” I say, getting out, “Lost track of time.”

I slither over to the table and get my gear back, frowning a little at the state of my belt. Nothing I can really do for that though, not without a tailor to patch up the worn leather. Shame really, though this is a rather rugged piece of gear.

“I’ll wait outside.” Sal’vir says, making motions for the door.

“Are you alright?” I ask, somewhat concerned. He is behaving quite strangely.

“Quite fine thank you.” He says, struggling with the door latch.

I come up behind him, brows furrowed in confusion. I put a hand on his shoulder and he wheels around reflexively. We stand there for a moment, looking at each other. I buckle on my belt, looking at him curiously.

“Are you sure you’re okay, you’re acting weird.” I say.

“You were, bathing.” He says awkwardly.

I frown at this. Indeed this was a true statement, but I don’t understand the problem here. True the small room was very different from the larger public baths Yuan Ti often went to in lieu of home plumbing, but honestly it can’t be that different.

“And your point is?” I ask, hoping to get to the bottom of this.

“You weren’t wearing…” He stops when he realizes how silly his statement was about to become.

“Let’s just go eat.” He says, storming off down the hall.

I roll my eyes and grab my freshly cleaned coat from where it hangs in the hall.
why do i get the feel that sal'vir is still crushing on solaron?

Our food is served to us in a small guest room a little ways off the main dining room. Blake attempts to entertain the party with recounting of his own heroism during our fight with the bandits. A cooked turkey is placed on the table in front of us and we dig in, it seems Sir Barkley is not sparing any moderate expense to keep us in good spirits. I pull off a drumstick and lick it while listening to Blake go on and on.

“Well that one was about to sneak up behind Sloane and gut him, but then I rushed in from the side and took him down with one blow.”

“Didn’t that one take you about five hits, from behind, or were you having trouble reaching his neck?” Buri asks.

“Minor details.” Blake waves him down before continuing, “Anyways, as I was saying, I cut him down easily and then ran off to the next one, dancing through the fight with no effort at all.”

“Is that why Galen was patching you up afterward?” Sloane asks, earning a glare from the small rogue.

“Minor bruises only,” he says before continuing. “Anyways, that was when I saw the elf go down, but I was battling two enemies, one with each blade, so I was helpless to assist the mighty wizard as he tripped over a small root and feel to his certain doom. Luckily for him Solaron was able to rush to his aid and deal with the single, lone, surprised bandit who never saw him coming, dispatching his opponent with such skill and cunning as I would have never expected from a simple blow to the back.”

I open my jaws and swallow the turkey leg. Blake’s eyes widen as he follows it down.

“Thanks, I try to be helpful.” I say cheerily, enjoying watching Blake try and recover his composure.

The dinner bell is ringing, so I have to take a break.

Discussion time!

Today's discussion is two-fold.

Topic 1: Strange personal habits of the Yuan Ti which other races find weird, and personal habits of other races Yuan Ti find weird.

Topic 2: I know you all love it when Sol gets obliviously seductive, so let's hear your suggestions for future situations which could arise to lead to similar scenes. Nothing is too bizarre or unusual. Could also be legitimate romantic interest.

Be back in a little while.
I don't know if I would like sol having an actual romantic interest in someone. I like his obliviousness and innocence.
What about sol walking in on someone who's taking a shower? He mentioned 'public' showers in Yuan-ti society, maybe he gets confused?
I think we just saw a bit of that, poor Sal'vir getting all flustered seeing sol in the bath. Maybe would be funny to have Sol slither in on somebody and innocently peek in.

He just wants to see what they look like after all...
Exactly, reverse the situation.
okay, so the idea is that sol walks in on someone in the shower, or maybe bath, and innocently wants to see what they look like naked, just some simple curiosity.

But who?

And how does he avoid getting punched?
Sal'vir, because of his attitude towards sol.
Do you mean that Sol should make the elf's crush worse by peeking in on the elf naked?

I like it.

But should Sal'vir freak out and try to make him leave, or play off his innocence and let him stay?

Or just sort of cover up and awkwardly chat?

Any of these could be equally funny.
Also, are we really okay with a one-sided elf crush? I would not have expected this coming in but it could be funny.
Sorry for the long wait, more coming shortly.

Also, interesting ideas, will give it some thought.
Could be funny, if it's managed properly. But it would be on very thin ice, so maybe it's not such good idea.

As always, I hang on your suggestions and concerns.
It would probably be okay as long as it isn't too direct.
I think it could be handled properly even if it is direct, not that I see the elf ever speaking up anytime soon

Eventually we finish our meal and a maid shows us to the hall where we will be staying. The rooms are all the same, large windows with soft drapes and luxurious four poster beds. One for each of us too, having my own bed again should be a nice change, especially a bed like this. I say my goodnights and slither under the covers, letting the soft warmth lull me off to sleep.

I awake late in the morning if the sunlight streaming in through the window is any indication. I am reluctant to leave the warm covers at first, but I eventually rise up and look around blearily. Despite the pastoral beauty of the scene laid out through the window and the warm soft bed I am on, I cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong. Something in the back of my mind is telling me that all is not well, something is missing. I scent the air and feel the ground with tremor sense, but I can’t detect anything, so I simply shrug and slither out of bed. I leave my gear where it hangs and head out into the corridor to see what is going on.

I don’t see my friends, but I can scent their passage on the air, so I follow the trail down the corridor until I find Buri and Galen taking breakfast downstairs. I stop in and eat as well, trading some meaningless pleasantries before heading off to see what else is going on. I wander aimlessly for a while until I scent another familiar smell, and turn to see Sir Barkley himself striding through the hall, a trail of attendants in tow. He seems agitated about something, and is talking energetically to his crowd of hangers on.

Nametag fell off. Sorry 'bout that.

“Crack open the private reserve if you have to, bring in specialists from fifty miles if you have to I need everything to be perfect. Someone oil the hinges on the front door and dust out the main hall, tell the kitchens to get ready I need everything to be perfect.”

“Having problems?” I ask, slithering alongside. I imagine that the conversation would go on with is fever pitch, but my arrival seems to have stunned the various followers for a moment.

“No!” Barkley says before turning back to his entourage.

“I want all the uniforms polished and washed, not a single blemish in the whole lot, do you understand?”

“Because it looks like you have a problem.” I say, undeterred.

It looks as if Barkley is about to snap at me again, but he seems to have run out of errands to send his people on, so he talks instead.

“If you must know, I have been put on the spot by Sir Reginald Aquitaine to host a reception of lords and noble houses. It had been planned that he would hold the reception but instead he has canceled and left me as his suggestion to hold the event. This has been months in the planning so I cannot simply refuse, there is nowhere left to go, so instead I must host this reception under such short notice. Now if you will excuse me I really must be going.”

He leaves me then to go and speak to a florist about the exact specifications of the floral arrangements.

I smile to myself, it looks like I’m going to another party.

Sorry to go again, but I have to walk the dog.

Same discussion topics as above still stand.


Actually, I am tired and need rest. More to come tomorrow as always.

Thanks for reading, I will consider all suggestions given, and see if they can help the story.

Thanks again.

“Well of course we have to leave before the reception.” Sloane says as though what he was saying was the most obvious thing in the universe. I look at him aghast.

“Why?” I ask, desperately trying to understand the madness that has taken him over. “Why in the world can’t we stay?”

“Because it is not our place to impose.” He says, already going about packing his things.

“We’re not imposing, we were invited to stay here!” I protest, trying to shake the paladin of this mad idea. “No conflict at all here, it could even be useful for us!”

“I fail to see how letting you put on a few strips of cloth and cavort with a crowd of nobles will end in anything but disaster for us all.” The paladin says, gazing at me levelly.

“Think of the possibilities!” I say, wildly grabbing onto a hint of hope, “The greatest of the land will be there, think of the connections we could make, the employers we could connect with. We have these kinds of functions all the time back home, the greats and the problem solvers meeting and exchanging information.”

Sloane is unconvinced.

“Think of all the problems we could find, the pleas for help the nobles left unsaid, we could solve their problems, you could solve their problems, the chances are incredible, give it a shot.”

I look at him with wide pleading eyes, and after a few moments his gaze softens.

“Fine, but I am going to be watching you.”

I rear up and punch the air, “Yes!”, I say, unable to help myself. Sloane rolls his eyes and heads off, while I bask in my triumph. Then a thought occurs to me that drags me back down.

I don’t have anything to wear.

oh boy, here we go again

Sorry for no update, running around right now.

I'm sorry, I know I said more to come today, but work was long and hard and painful today, so I don't know how much I can get done, I am rather exhausted right now.
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what ever you can get out is good.

The party is fast approaching, only a day or so before the guests arrive, and I still have nothing to wear. My formal garb from before was rendered quite unbearable by my struggle with Kalen, and I have not been able to restore it to a usable state. I inquire about the possibility of using a house tailor to prepare some new garments, but Sloane heads me off, telling me that he is taking care of it. Quite heartened by this, I await the morning when the party will begin.

My sleep is troubled that night, a nagging sense of disquiet keeping me awake long after the sun has gone down. When I rise in the morning I am compelled to check every nook and cranny in my room, searching for whatever might cause my unease. When I find nothing I write the whole thing off as a lost cause and head down to eat. Breakfast is quiet that morning, everyone is either anticipating or dreading the reception later that day. Sloane in particular is seeming rather tense, and keeps staring at me, though he denies everything when I ask him what’s wrong.

Eventually I give up and simply leave, enjoying a trip around the grounds before the party, smelling the flowers in bloom and listening to the whistling of the wind in the trees. After that I figure that I had better go back to the house and get ready. As soon as I get back into the house I find Sloane waiting for me, who grabs me by the arm and pulls me along with him. I don’t protest, mostly because I’m curious about where we are going. Eventually we arrive at a dressing room if I am any judge.

“So, what have you got for me?” I ask, looking around. I don’t see anything like Yuan Ti formal wear, but Sloane said he was taking care of the situation.

“Oh, I’ve got something appropriate.” He says as I hear the door swing open. I turn around to see three or four tailors coming through the door, eying me up with rather frightening determination.
lol forced tailoring
I'm half expecting that wearing full clothes will mess with his body temperature and he's going to black out in the middle of a dance or something.
you know the girl he will then be dancing with will be some big noble and whisk him of to her room to recover and yet more misunderstanding will ensue.

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