Hawk and Pine return for another misadventure.

Hawk and Pine in "Lactose Intolerance" or "Dairy Daze"

The early morning sun was just beginning to filter down through the high canopy of the quiet forest. It was a beautiful morning that came to greet Pine the Pixie as she lay curled on top of a low branch. Pine, who intended to greet afternoon, and really had no intention of associating with this morning fellow, pulled a nearby leaf over her face andquickly fell back into her peaceful slumber.

But on this fine day, morning, who normally would selflessly allow Pine to slumber while it sulked in its loneliness, had recruited a new friend. This friend made a very loud pounding sound which morning proudly echoed. Pine peered out from under her leaf, very unamused, then pulled it tightly over her head.

Morning echoed the sound louder.

When the pounding refused to cease after a few minutes, Pine ripped the leaf from off of her and gave morning a glare that would make it recoil, were it not bound by the rotation of an entire planet. Then, accompanied by a huff and a grumble, she took to her tiny wings and made a groggy hover in the direction of the offending noise.

The source turned out to be the scruffy scoundrel and her partner in crime, Hawk, hunched over a make-shift fence of timber and rope with an evil mallet clutched in his fist. The spitting image of manly labor, each strike the shirtless, sweaty man took seemed to be a proud flex, though for whom was anyone's guess.

"By the nine hells, it moves. Who are you and what have you done with Hawk," spit Pine in a biting tone that could freeze a fire elemental. "And what in the Bathtub of Bane is that?"

Hawk turned and gave a bright, confident smile. "Wha's it look like?"

She glared at the rickety circle of timber, bound and nailed into something resembling a wall.  "It looks like a treant exploded."

Hawk creased his brow briefly, but continued otherwise unphased.  "But what'cha think it does?"

"Well, you could be building us a house, which due to my desire to continue living, I will not enter."

He laid down the hammer, which was all she really wanted to begin with.  Unfortunately, she couldn't leave now, or he would just pick it back up again.  She eyed the bludgeoning Baatezu, contemplating her new quest to bring about its downfall.

"No no, see look," he said, interrupting her meditation.  "It's a corral."

Pine blinked, then glared silently at her partner.

"Y'know, like ya keep animals in," he further explained.

"I know what a corral is," the pixie responded in a flat tone.  "Hawk."

"Yes, love?"

"Why do we have a corral in the middle of the forest?"

"Fer keepin' animals, of course."  He offered a confident, charming grin.

"I don't know if you've looked around when you woke up with this hair brained idea, Hawk, but we're in the middle of the forest.  It's full of bloody animals.  We're up to our ears in damn animals, many of which enjoy trying to eat you, I might add."

"But not cows," the afresh appointed agriculturist argued.

"No, not cows.  Cows don't live in the forest.  Cows don't like forests.  What possible use is a cow in the forest?"

"Food and milk," he replied in a matter of fact sort of way.  "We get a few out 'ere, I put up some spell wards to keep the other animals out, an' we got cheap dinner fer months."

This was getting serious.  Pine liked food.  The fact that Hawk was actually making effort to feed them was uncharacteristically admirable.  Of that, she was impressed.  But, she was not a fan of delayed gratification nor gambling her meals on schemes.  Not to mention, the hammering had to stop.  She dipped and batted her eyes.  It was time to play the whiny card.  "Hawksies.  I don't want cows.  They're loud and smelly and poop everywhere.  And it means we have to stay where you put them, and can't go out and make real money."

"It's time we settled down an' made somethin' o' ourselves, love.  We can't be wanderin' vagabonds ferever.  Yer the one who wanted me to get a real job, after all."

"I was thinking more along the lines of working for someone and they pay you, like a normal person."

"Moo."

Both turned to the empty pen, then to each other.

"Moo?  Did you manage to go get them already," Pine questioned angrily.

"Nuh uh, love.  Wun' gonna go get any 'til the corral was done."  Hawk scratched his head in confusion and looked around.  "Thought ya said cows dun like forests."

Both started as a series of loud thuds crept closer and closer.  Hawk took a moment to analyze the source, then pointed Pine to a wide oak.  Only moments later, the face of a bull peered around the trunk.

"Dun make any sudden movements, love.  We'll just slowly get into the pen," Hawk whispered.

Following the head was a massive, humanoid body.  The creature was at least 7 or 8 feet tall with burly muscles and an axe roughly the size of Hawk himself.  Hawk had only heard of minotaurs, but had never thought they could be quite so big.

"I don't think your rattletrap rampart is going to do us much good, sweetie," Pine replied nervously.

"Right," Hawk returned, equally shaky.  "Change o' plans.  Make sudden movements."

Both turned and bolted in the opposite direction of the brutish bovine.  Behind them they could hear a loud snort and the pounding hooves of it charging.

Pine, buzzing along next to shirtless scoundrel, turned to notice he was also missing his rapier.  "I don't suppose you bothered to pick up any of your weapons before running away."

"Nope," he said in a tone that seemed to say it didn't really matter.

"Do you at least have your knife?"

"Nope."  He kept running.

She put her face in her palm.  "Are you going to fight this thing at all?"

"Nope."

"What if we go back and get your weapons?"

"Nope."  He seemed rather (udderly?) against fighting the 700 pound lactose lumberjack.

The minotaur caught up behind them and took a wild swing with its axe.  Hawk took a dive, just barely ducking under it, and tumbling between two trees.  Pine darted upward.  The massive axe swung between the two heroes and embedded itself into a tree.  Both took the opportunity to run around the bull and back toward their camp.  It wasn't about to give up, though, and with a snort, pushed the tree over onto the ground and retrieved the weapon. It then resumed chasing its prey.

"Y'know, love, they say a minotaur can track a person fer miles," Hawk mentioned glumly between gasps.

"Stinks being a person, huh," she goaded back.

They soon reached their encampment, where Hawk took advantage of their lead on the minotaur to quickly go through his things until he found a potion and bright red cape.  The cape belonged to a snobbish dress outfit that Hawk rarely found the occasion to wear, and even more rarely would he want to be there if he did.  He uncorked the potion and doused the cape, then grabbed his rapier and ran back to the corral to make his final stand against the beast.

"What was in the bottle, Hawksie," Pine inquired.

"Potion o' Bull's Strength.  They're s'posed to be made of minotaur."

"That explains the smell."

Hawk and the minotaur now stood on opposite sides of the corral, staring each other down.  The minotaur snorted and lowered its head.  Hawk creased his brow.  His cloak and blade were brought to the ready as he stood proud.  A slight wind kicked up behind him, blowing his hair and the cape dramatically.  The minotaur caught the cloak's scent from the breeze and gave an iron glare.  With another snort, it jumped from its crouch and charged the miscreant matador.

Boards from the fence splintered off in every direction as it burst through both ends of the corral.  In true bullfighting fashion, Hawk turned and ran.  He quickly dove into some underbrush and out of sight.  Furious and frustrated, the minotaur tore through the brush and charged onward, lead after Hawk by its sense of smell.  It stomped around a tree, only to find the smelly cloak it had been following was ditched at its base.  Hawk's smell was still near, however, and it spun around sniffing wildly.  From the trees, Hawkleapt onto its back and ran it through once with the rapier.

Much to Hawk's amazement, minotaurs, unlike people, don't seem to fall down and die when impaled once on a rapier.  He didn't really have time to analyze the workings of this as the sword went flying and he clung for dear life to the minotaur's horns.  It bobbed its head up and down as it bucked and charged about the forest and back into the corral.  He was fairly certain he couldn't maintain the rodeo show for long.

Pine zipped up beside them, watching on in a mix of morbid amusement and shock.  "Hawk, quick, look down!"  On the ground was the vile hammer she so loathed.

It was a long shot, but there wasn't much else going for him.  As the horned head bobbed down in another attempt to buck its rider, he let go of one horn and scooped up the tool.  He gave several desperate, concussive blows to the back of the beast's skull.  At first, it only seemed stunned, but it wasn't long before it collapsed onto its back, unconcious or worse.  Hawk dismounted before it could fall over onto him.  Panting, he grabbed a coil of rope.  "Pine, grab the end."  Together, they hefted the thing's limbs and hog-tied it in place, then dragged the axe off and sunk it into a large mud puddle.

"C'mon, love."  Hawk gathered his few belongings in the camp and prepared to leave.  "Let's get some distance, in case he wakes up."

"Aww, what about settling down," Pine teased back.

"We're wanderers, love.  Farm work ain't fer us."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."  She giggled and flew up onto his shoulder.  "Now, I'm hungry.  What's for breakfast?"

He gave the question a little bit of thought.  "I was thinkin' maybe a nice salad."

http://youtube.com/watch?v=CbQihtGw5LA

It's all over the sporting news.  On our independance day, we took back the title that is rightfully ours.  That's right, after 6 years, we proved our supremacy in gluttony and penchant for obesity.  Go back to your superior automotive and electronics, Japan.  The mustard belt is staying in the good ol' US of A.

Just a quick post to let you all know I'm not ignoring you.  I've been reading posts in quick sittings, but really haven't had the time to offer any intelligent responses.  At the moment, exams are in mid-swing.  I've also had a very close friend visiting from Quebec who is pleasantly occupying what little freetime I can muster.  Also, in a few days, I won't have a place to live.  (I have a place to stay, so I'm not on the streets, selling my body and computer parts for food and perception-altering substances designed to mask my troubled existance.)  

Goals at the moment are passing math, finding a roof, and celebrating the victory with a few days of inhebriated debauchery.  After I awaken from the hangover, and dragged myself from the near-collapsed fouton I intend to call my bed, I'll return to address what needs me.

Much love, LotNers.

[ I love that I'm seeing so many stories posted, lately.  Keep up the good work, all.  

I'm trying something a little weird with this one, and I'm not yet sure if I like the way it turned out or not.  My motivation to continue the format will decide if I go any further than this post.  Julia is just one of those characters I think would be easier to write for a movie screen than a book.  

I'd say the hardest part for me is having to break from my comfortable format of separating scene and action descriptions.  Having to capture the character quickly blending into a new scene without a break in action will make the "introduce character or scene, describe it, interact with it" paradigm impossible to use as the story goes on.  But, I like to think that if I can pull the new style off right, the action should flow much better.

But, I yammer way too much.  Julia, the Lady Poison, in her Venom Dreamscape.  Enjoy.]

=======================================

"Are you going to be forever with that thing, Elliot?"  Julia tapped her foot impatiently on the cobblestone street, arms crossed, and gave a toss of her long, dark, shoulder-length hair from out of her face for emphasis.  She glanced a moment down the dark, city alley.  There were still people going about their business at this late hour, it seemed.  A sour-smelling breeze kicked up, kicking up with it the dead leaves and garbage that collected along the walls like river banks.  She propped herself against one of the two tall buildings, and pinned her trench coat to the wall with a heel.  Again, though quieter, she verbally prodded a young man hunched at the door.  "Someone's going to notice, if you keep taking your time."

"I would be done by now if you would let me concentrate."  Elliot pushed his thick glasses back up his nose and continued to wiggle the two pins inside the heavy, iron lock.  His scruffy, unkempt features contorted in annoyance.  A huff of air was blown up as if to clear bangs from his face, though his short blond hair came no where near his face, exposing his mixed-elf heritage in the form of gently crested ears.  He cut a brief glance to the intimidating figure against the wall.  Much to his dismay, the annoyance hadn't blown away.  "If anyone is going to draw attention here, it's you."  

The gothic figure rolled her eyes in response and strummed her fingers against the wall.  At the tip of each finger was fastened a sharp metal talon, each of which made a loud, rhythmic clacking sound against the hard plaster wall, and continued to echo as the sound bounced back and forth down the alley.

"Would you stop that," Elliot exploded! He quickly covering his mouth after he realized how loud he had been.  He flinched at each fading echo of his voice into the darkness.  Down at the end of the alley, a heavily armored figure paused at the sound, then turned into the alley.  The light of his lantern lit up the walls of the tall buildings as he approached.  "Oh, gods, now look what you've done," Elliot whispered frantically.  "We're in for it now!"

Julia's dark eyes examined the situation briefly, glancing back and forth between the fast nearing illumination and her panic stricken companion.  She stepped away from the wall, her coat still pinned with her heel.  As it slipped off her now bare shoulders, she let it drape over her boot, then quickly kicked it behind a stack of old barrels.  On her other heel, she turned towards Elliot, and leaped on top of him.  The nook of the inset iron door provided them a dark crevice together.  He hoped this was to be for hiding, until she grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the door with a loud thud.  Shortly after, he let out a shrill scream.

The guard's pace went frantic.  "Who goes there," he shouted before he'd even reached them.  As the sun-bright lantern light washed over them, Julia slowly removed her teeth from the nook of Elliot's neck.  "What seems to be the problem here," he inquired for emphasis.

Julia lifted her head and turned to him with a sheepish look on her face, having to squint in the change of light.  One strap of her sleeveless tunic slipped down off her shoulder.  A finger was placed timidly between her teeth, and her head lulled to the side.  Elliot was still in lost panic, and panting heavily.  She removed the finger from her mouth.  "Is there one, sir?"

"Is..."  He surveyed the situation, and only barely concealed a grin.  "Is he alright?"

"Oh.  He likes it a little rough," she responded in a tone sweet enough to almost gag her, then slowly stretched a clawed hand out for reserved display.  Elliot barely managed a nod.

"This isn't an inn room, you know," he informed her sternly.

"Oh, we'll get a room."  She turned and glared into Elliot's eyes.  "This is just a little preview," she said in a low, sultry tone.

The guard examined the frail, skinny man beneath her and finally cracked a grin.  "Ah, lucky kid.  Just try and keep it down.  Folks are sleeping this time of night."

"We promise, officer."  She crossed two claws and smiled at him.

With a moment longer to examine them, the guard turned and headed back the way he had come.  Everything was pitch black as Julia's eyes adjusted to the dark again.

Slowly, the tall, brick warehouses on either side of her come into view again.  The street is just as littered as she remembers it, and cars still pass by on the distant street as they likely would all night.  She waits for the white and blue car parked at the end to pull away before letting out a faint sigh.

"Would you get off of me, so I can finish hacking the lock?", says Elliot in a disgruntled tone.  "And did you really have to bite me?"

Julia smirks and rolls off of him, snagging her coat from behind the dumpster.  "Was it as good for you, as it was for me?"  Her fingers search the inside to make sure all of her tools and guns were still there.

"That was my favorite t-shirt," he retorts with a huff.

She snickers.  "Good, maybe we can get you one from somewhere other than a computer convention.  Believe it or not, that penguin isn't a designer brand label."

"Last I checked, you were the one who had her brain fried from too much computer time," Elliot scoffs.  "What was that dream world, again?  Dungeons and Dragons?"

"Ha.  Don't lump a jolt to my head with your idea of a good Friday night out.  Have you got that keypad figured out yet?"  She fixes her tanktop strap, and slips back into her coat.

"Given the choice, it beats a night out with you, Jules."  He waves what looks like a cellular phone in front of the pad, occasionally pressing a few buttons while staring intently at the screen.  "Just about got it."  The pad makes a series of beeping noises, followed by the muffled sound of several shifting gears and rods.  "In, quick, before we get any more voyeurs."

Deleted about 200 and some change users today in deleting bots.  If I deleted some of your lurker accounts, I apologize, and please don't think I'm out to get you.  The process got somewhat mind-numbing around user number 150.

Story:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16902707

I believe I have all the kinks worked out of the updated treasure chest system I briefly released some ways back. It doesn't contain all of the other dungeon reset code that was bugging out before, and doesn't effect the actual items spawned, just the containers themselves, and fixes a lot of bugs that are untouchable with the current system.

I'd like to safely send them live in the next day or so, but I need to make sure the loot not respawning bug doesn't show its ugly head again. I have a Local Vault test server up and running on my local machine. Bring your most unfairly tricked out character for an easy test (level restrictions still apply, Item Level Restrictions are off), or a basic LotN char to see what it'll feel like when you're facing it after launch.  Parties encouraged.

IP: 137.150.210.172:5121
or under Tech Support - Moff's Test Server

Use this thread to post any notes, or just so I know what dungeons people are trodding through so I can get a rough idea of what's going on.  Again, the actual items have not been changed.  Just the containers they come in.