Recent content by Méchanteau

Hometowns have it the worst, why should yours be any different? Captain Méchanteau, sea entrepreneur, wants one hundred-or-so warm bodies to ferry down to Cerak At'Thul. He set his orbits on your hometown. Expecting no noteworthy resistance, he's bringing a small caravel manned by two dozen...

Méchanteau bit back a summon-swear as the dragon's eye narrowed. The pats and praise were not to its liking. A jerk of the head was enough to send the lich a-flying through the skies and the skeleton, no doubt accustomed to being the lead of any tango, had plenty to think about during his fall...

Amassing armies, crazed spellslingers, a god-beast of prodigious size... and to think that Méchanteau had attempted sleep this very day! Perhaps his little stunt had been successful and this ever-escalating chaos was the spill of memories, tall tales, and crazed flights of fancy that had once...

Méchanteau surrendered the bottle, although he didn't looked mighty pleased about it. "Tut-tut, good captain, the supposed is to give as many answers as you were given." he admonished without much candour. He hadn't withheld anything yet, mostly because her questions were of a harmless sort...

Been on a Blind Guardian binge! (there's a bunch of versions of this one and im still not sure which sounds the clearest)

"Fool, I alone am the reason why this ship sails at all!" he roused to Talia's challenge "A woman, an orc, three landlubbers and two dead men? We tempt fate by simply flying the same flag, our fukú is quite terrible! If I don't sit here to ward off bad luck, then who?" he finished with a solemn...

Daring to hop and leap where other men would have tread carefully, Méchanteau and his headless crony kept a brisk pace despite the added weight. The lich noted the revealing draconic glyphs all around him, doubtlessly ripe with delectable cursed knowledge and that sweet thing called treasure...

Méchanteau got the impression that this shapeshifter did not hold the undead - nor pirates - in very high regard. Dragons truly were wise! As expected, this one had the vanity to match: some well-placed - if heartily felt - words were enough to mellow him enough for something more than the usual...

"You don't have to be rude." he quipped at the dragon, hands darting to fire another shot at the astronomers. Was it wipe-grip-sheen-powder-ball-powder-click-pull-BANG or grip-wipe-powder-ball-click-pull-click-BANG? Whatever the order, he fumbled it. The flintlock slipped from his hands and...

Fear! Delightful, scrumptious fear! While Méchanteau thrived on the stuff, even getting a bit of a high as he choked the lights out of one of the most craven-looking astronomers, this was perhaps going against his best interests. He dropped the man with just a crushed windpipe, whipping up from...

This ash was not much different to marine snow, both particulates had a nasty habit to fill up between fabric and bones just a tad bit faster and deeper that the lich could keep up with. Through violent shakes and beatings he did managed to keep himself not looking like a carbonized casualty, at...

The skeleton, in all of his fifty-odd pounds of bone and finery, was rattled off his feet. The noise, the shakes wouldn't end. He crawled and stumbled to get a better view on just what the devil was going on, nearly throwing himself off a balcony to at last cast his glare east to be met with...

Wrapped in fine linens and anointed with sacred oils, Méchanteau had endured great pains to experience the fickle mortal pleasure of the dream. The challenge was of an esoteric variety, something to do with realigning astral bodies and the irreality that came from it, but as a lich quite fond of...

Méchanteau was part of the long and distinguished line of captains that named each and every ship of theirs after parts of themselves, but even he reckoned that 'Salty Bitch' was a bit on the nose! True to her name and captain the ship did groan and winge even in such slight waves, but besides...

What was a death threat between pirates, really? Something akin to a currency, to be exchanged and haggled with lest one lose face. And here in dreary Cerak, face was everything! A man was only as big as the legend he cast. That was why the lich floundered a bit when Talia risked a question...