more salvatoresque crap — avert your eyes while you still can (part 3)

"What KIND... of idiot goes... looking for hours for dreamgrass for a gryphon A FUCKIN' GRYPHON who mind you has been a complete gentleman, beast, gentlebeast oh gross.  Wait.  Did i already walk past—"  I slid and knocked my head against something hard, interrupting my rambling.

I woke up to the sight of a chubby and somewhat disturbingly cheery olive face.  "Hey there, fellow humanoid!  Looks like you took a nasty bump there, but i've patched you up!  Don't know how a guy takes so many scratches and some light burns from falling down, but gosh darn if you didn't accomplish it!  There's so much i'm learning out here—"

I held up a finger and said, "Ssshhh."  He obediently shut up.  I tried to collect my wits and stood up.  "Um.  Thank you very much for healing me."  I stuck out my hand.  "My name is Mwaele.  What's yours?"

He smiled and pumped my hand enthusiastically.  "Hey Mwaele!  I'm Feren Nor, druid apprentice, WBUDR Local 87!"

I smiled thinly.  "Pleasure.  Ah, say, would you know where i can find some dreamgrass around here?  I gotta—"

He let go of my hand and punched me in the shoulder.  "Aw, c'mon!  You're like the guys who sent me out here last month to look for a left-handed dowsing rod!  Even i know there's no dreamgrass out here!  Although, if you want to get high, there's probably some mushrooms growing—"

I grabbed his robes and pulled him close.  "Feren.  I have a hurt gryphon nearby.  Can you help me?  I would really.  Really.  Appreciate it."  His robes smelled of fresh moss.

He got a concerned look on his face.  "Gosh!  Let's go find it!"  I let him go and started making my way to where i thought i'd left the gryphon.  After a few missteps, we found it in the same position i'd left it.

"Dang, Mwaele, a tame gryphon!  I bet you're loaded with gold!"  Feren inspected its leg and whispered, "Wow, that's a harsh wound!  I'll do what i can, but i spent my big healing spell on you!"

"Well, do what you can," i said.  "And you don't have to whisper."

He blinked.  "Oh.  Right."  His healing spell involved a lot less mumbo jumbo than your average cleric's, for which i was thankful.

"Furthermore," i added, "i am not loaded with gold, nor is this my gryphon.  It came from that mess."  I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb to the smoldering ruins.  "And that's where what should've been my gold is lying, unrecoverable and useless.  Not that i'm bitter."

Feren gaped over my shoulder.  "Nettles and thorns!  That's a Category One fire!  The ecological impact could be enormous!  I gotta get back to the compound!"  As if on cue, the wind shifted and started blowing fetid smoke in our faces.  He looked at me.  "Do you know what happened there?"

"Well, yeah," i said.  "You see, we were trying to—"

"Don't tell me!  Tell my master!  C'mon!"  He looked at the gryphon.  "`Sides, i bet he can fix your gryphon up real good!"

I raised my hands.  "Look, i think i can just leave the gryphon here, now that it won't die, and you can go to talk to your superiors, and i'll make my way back to Kromalir so i can get myself a goddamn beer.  So, nice to meet ya."

He drew a sabre and aimed at me as his face turned hard.  "Don't fuck with Mother Nature.  We need your information.  You're coming with me, and i don't care if you're conscious."

I almost laughed.  I could surely take this punk even in my weakened state and without my weapon.  But... what the hell was my hurry, anyway?  Maybe these hippies could get me a good warm meal.  "OK, OK, just promise me you'll give me a beer as soon as we get there."

He sheathed his weapon and the chubby smile came back.  "You bet!  Let's go!"

more salvatoresque crap — avert your eyes while you still can (part 3)

"What KIND... of idiot goes... looking for hours for dreamgrass for a gryphon A FUCKIN' GRYPHON who mind you has been a complete gentleman, beast, gentlebeast oh gross.  Wait.  Did i already walk past—"  I slid and knocked my head against something hard, interrupting my rambling.

I woke up to the sight of a chubby and somewhat disturbingly cheery olive face.  "Hey there, fellow humanoid!  Looks like you took a nasty bump there, but i've patched you up!  Don't know how a guy takes so many scratches and some light burns from falling down, but gosh darn if you didn't accomplish it!  There's so much i'm learning out here—"

I held up a finger and said, "Ssshhh."  He obediently shut up.  I tried to collect my wits and stood up.  "Um.  Thank you very much for healing me."  I stuck out my hand.  "My name is Mwaele.  What's yours?"

He smiled and pumped my hand enthusiastically.  "Hey Mwaele!  I'm Feren Nor, druid apprentice, WBUDR Local 87!"

I smiled thinly.  "Pleasure.  Ah, say, would you know where i can find some dreamgrass around here?  I gotta—"

He let go of my hand and punched me in the shoulder.  "Aw, c'mon!  You're like the guys who sent me out here last month to look for a left-handed dowsing rod!  Even i know there's no dreamgrass out here!  Although, if you want to get high, there's probably some mushrooms growing—"

I grabbed his robes and pulled him close.  "Feren.  I have a hurt gryphon nearby.  Can you help me?  I would really.  Really.  Appreciate it."  His robes smelled of fresh moss.

He got a concerned look on his face.  "Gosh!  Let's go find it!"  I let him go and started making my way to where i thought i'd left the gryphon.  After a few missteps, we found it in the same position i'd left it.

"Dang, Mwaele, a tame gryphon!  I bet you're loaded with gold!"  Feren inspected its leg and whispered, "Wow, that's a harsh wound!  I'll do what i can, but i spent my big healing spell on you!"

"Well, do what you can," i said.  "And you don't have to whisper."

He blinked.  "Oh.  Right."  His healing spell involved a lot less mumbo jumbo than your average cleric's, for which i was thankful.

"Furthermore," i added, "i am not loaded with gold, nor is this my gryphon.  It came from that mess."  I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb to the smoldering ruins.  "And that's where what should've been my gold is lying, unrecoverable and useless.  Not that i'm bitter."

Feren gaped over my shoulder.  "Nettles and thorns!  That's a Category One fire!  The ecological impact could be enormous!  I gotta get back to the compound!"  As if on cue, the wind shifted and started blowing fetid smoke in our faces.  He looked at me.  "Do you know what happened there?"

"Well, yeah," i said.  "You see, we were trying to—"

"Don't tell me!  Tell my master!  C'mon!"  He looked at the gryphon.  "`Sides, i bet he can fix your gryphon up real good!"

I raised my hands.  "Look, i think i can just leave the gryphon here, now that it won't die, and you can go to talk to your superiors, and i'll make my way back to Kromalir so i can get myself a goddamn beer.  So, nice to meet ya."

He drew a sabre and aimed at me as his face turned hard.  "Don't fuck with Mother Nature.  We need your information.  You're coming with me, and i don't care if you're conscious."

I almost laughed.  I could surely take this punk even in my weakened state and without my weapon.  But... what the hell was my hurry, anyway?  Maybe these hippies could get me a good warm meal.  "OK, OK, just promise me you'll give me a beer as soon as we get there."

He sheathed his weapon and the chubby smile came back.  "You bet!  Let's go!"

"let's go make things out of egg cartons!"

Two Mormon kids have developed a car air conditioner based around Peltier chips which could halve the fuel currently spent on running Freonrefrigerant-based air conditioners.  Thanks to bivaughn for the link.

"let's go make things out of egg cartons!"

Two Mormon kids have developed a car air conditioner based around Peltier chips which could halve the fuel currently spent on running Freonrefrigerant-based air conditioners.  Thanks to bivaughn for the link.

la mort d'un kook

mouseworks notes that Stephen Boursy has passed away.

la mort d'un kook

mouseworks notes that Stephen Boursy has passed away.