StrolenCon Daily Log and Journal

#1

-by Murometz

Thursday, June 21st, late afternoon: Strolen arrives

(to be continued)

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#2

It was a close call. The Kung-fu school was nearly closed when a rogue samurai and a female ninja infiltrated them putting into work a series of events. The gold, water, and wood ninjas were defeated with much celebration until the earth ninjas were encountered. After a long battle they were destroyed leaving only the ninja boss. Our hero was lost, but it was a sacrifice that took down the ninja boss. A new era of martial arts is upon us and the llamas are in control of it.

Re: StrolenCon Daily Log and Journal

#3

Friday 11:11AM EST

Moon Hunter is describing his plan for world domination, Ria has taken out a D20 the size of a tangerine, and Strolen is taking notes on Citadel Version 3.0. Muro is eating. We await Scras.

Re: StrolenCon Daily Log and Journal

#4

Sunday, 24th 11:11

Excerpt MoonHunter's log.

"Have returned from the wilds. Can connect to the internet again. No longer suffering from withdrawls. We have lost a few party members, and they will be remembered. We will recover. But are we safe, even here? Will it haunt us and draw us in again? Only time will tell. "

Re: StrolenCon Daily Log and Journal

#5

Oh sweet internets! How long have I been away?

The ideas that have been born this weekend, Red Dog's antiques, City Mascots (already claimed by Moon) and Dragonhawks! OMG so much fun!!!

Kick Ass!

Re: StrolenCon Daily Log and Journal

#6

The ability to recreate the events that happend on 22-24 June would be beyond the ability of the 20th century's greates historians and novelists. I have no illusion that my humble skills have the fortitude for the task and anything written will be but a shadow of the actual event. I have pity for those that will use the dwelling after us as the sign of Cthulhu will forever haunt that cursed premises.....and my mind. But I jump ahead as the thought of the weekend being anything other than a fun meeting was the furthest from our minds.

Signs of darkness started on the Thursday prior to doomed trip. My flight was completely uneventful. There were no screaming babies and the person in the next seat was actually skinny and slept the entire trip. The first precurser of the events was Murometz's unknowing creation of the first spiral by driving around the circular airport terminals wating for my actual appearance. If I am not mistaken, the spiral count was three when Murometz and I met and shook hands, a shake that would later be viewed as the first event in a series of events that led to the inconceivable climax. A shake after a spiral, a sealed deal after a ritualized call to hell...or worse.

Accidents filled the road as Murometz and I made our way back to the staging apartment. We were to pick up Ria Hawk, Moonhunter, and Scrasamax the next morning as scheduled so they would stay the evening near the airport. Nobody and Lanfear would have their own trip to contemplate as they were to meet at The House on Friday evening. The sky was clear and the conversation light as the drive continued uneventfully. Radio static momentarily seized conversation as attention was directed to the scratchy voice of the radio announcer: it was a weather update. The voice echoed as if it was crossing planes of existance, a slight echo haunted the otherwise normal weather report, "Severe thunderstorm watch in the greater northern New Jersey area..." The report faded out as another static strike hit the radio and traffic was back on with out the extra reverberation. I looked at Muro and he looked back, our gaze then searched the beautiful blue sky dotted with small white cumulus in confusion. Doubt passed our lips and we laughed, ignorant as we were.....

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#7

characters played:

Hank "The Tank" Tankowitz:

R.I.P. (but took out quite a few zombies before being swarmed by sixty of them. Highlight: putting 12 packets of powdered Ex-Lax into Scras' character's burrito, and watching him squirm.)

Dr. Phil Breedlove:

Briefly (and falsely) assumed he was the "chosen" of Yog-Sothoth. In fact, he wasnt. Managed to survive AND not go insane, however. Also managed to ask all the right questions during a seance. Woot.

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#8

A Remarkable Voyage
The event started off innocently enough, bringing a fresh cold Pepsi to Mrs. Scras and bidding her a fond adieu as I left out early for the McGee-Tyson airport in Alcoa. The drive was easy, up 75 north and then across to the airport. With my boarding pass already printed, getting through the airport was a breeze. I was there a whole 2 1/2 hours early, but it did soothe my anxiety about missing my flight. As I strolled across the terminal, I wandered the gift shop, sat and watched TV for a bit, and had a lively text-based chat with Muro and the Mrs. If you are curious, just send Muro a PM and ask about my mad text skillz. Facing the bank of monitors, I see that all flights are on time except one....

Mine.

My flight out has been delayed 2 hours by air traffic control. So i hit the local watering hole for a desperately overpriced burger and a couple of cold beers. As I leave the establishment I hear the first boarding call for my flight, and I rush to the gate. Woot! It's 30 minutes earlier than I was expecting. The flight out is fun, and my head is awash with ideas as we climb above the US countryside and cut north towards the Garden State. About 2 hours later, the landing gear drop and my tiny ETR-135 is sitting on the ground at Newark Liberty. I text the rest of the Strolen crew to see about my pick-up time and I find that they are on the way, 20 minutes. After the hours spent at the terminal and on the plane, 20 minutes is a drop in the bucket!

Well the 20 minutes turning into something in the vicinity of an hour. Traffic snarls the pick-up vehicle and what doesnt help is that I've stepped out the wrong door. I'm at arrivals and drop-offs, and the rest of the Valiant Strolen crew is a floor down at backage pick-up. On the phone with Strolen himself, i realize the mistake and bolt back through the terminal and down the escalator and shoot out towards the street. in all of this movement, I whoosh past Strolen who walks up behind me after describing my clothes to me. LOL SWEET! I've found the valiant crew.

The two of us walk to the curb where moments later we are met by the Indefatigable Murometz, who is also on foot. The three of us, on foot, await the arrival of the StrolenCon mobile from the curb. After a wait, the black volvo suv appears with Moonhunter at the wheel and Ria Hawk in the tail-gunner position, this is New Jersey after all. Locked in and loaded, the four of us launch for the house in West Shokan, or so we believe....

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#9

An obscure exit and a couple miles brought us to a local owned pizzeria. Muro professionally order two Philly cheese steaks and I added a fry and we went and sat down. The place was somewhat cafeteria style seating, abandoned except for some of the help that was relaxing in one of the corners. We took a seat away from the window in the back to give us a little distance. The napkin holder was empty so I grabbed it to trade it with a full one from a different table and, in my clumsiness, I spilled what I thought was the salt all over the table. Muro righted the shaker while I finished the napkin exchange. Much to my relief it was a local spice mixture…in hindsight, it must have still had salt in it after all.

Back to the car and a few turns later we were in the wooded area of Muro’s apartment complex. We got comfortable, bounced on the site a few times, and started to settle in for a quiet evening. As we were reviewing Muro’s DVD library the sun was blotted out and a large wind picked up rattling the trees. Soon after the rain came pouring down, lightning glowed, and thunder cracked. The static filled warning had the last laugh as we went on with the evening, humbled. If we were to have looked up into the storm above, I have no doubt we would have seen a vortex of doom beckoning to us.

The storm stopped as suddenly as it began and it was time to get some rest as we had to get up somewhat early to be at the airport for pickup. In hindsight, the second spiral happened that night. We went to be around midnight, I put on a classic 80s kung-fu flick for some background noise as I drifted off. I ended up stirring through the night, just enough to restart the movie three times. Three times, I repeat to myself as I write. Three times the movie went in its circular pattern, each time seeing me different part, a different part of the violent, bloody killing.

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#10

I hadn't slept at all the night before. In retrospect, that probably cushioned my mind against horrors to follow. At four AM, I left my house for the airport. Since it was four AM, traffic was only a memory between home and Knoxville. Reaching the airport by five-thirty, I discovered that there were others, just as mad as I, who had booked flights this early. The airport was moderately crowded, and my first indication of trouble was that a flight on the same airline was leaving in fifteen minutes, and ten passengers had not yet checked in, and were therefore asked to come to the desk ahead of others. But it was a small matter, and having checked in and recieved my boarding pass, I breezed through security and sat down to wait and ponder things, like why the Knoxville Airport is located in Alcoa. The plane was early, the boarding quickly completed, and the flight uneventful. I dozed off somewhere over Virginia and woke up over New Jersey. I admit it was a trifle disorienting; eastern Tennessee and Virginia are mountianous, and New Jersey is flat as a board.

My bag was the first onto the baggage claim, and I called Strolen and Muro for pick up. They were there in ten minutes, and as far as I know, saw me on the first trip through. As Moon was due in an hour or so, it was decided to simply drive around the airport until he arrived. Everything had gone smoothly. A bit too smoothly...

Re: StrolenCon Daily Log and Journal

#11

I am finally home; 23 Hours after I was supposed to. I am used to waundering, but this.. this was not a waunder as a waunderer's trip to purgatory.

My flight was to be from Newark to Charlotte NC to Los Vegas NV to Oakland. Lots of changing planes.

First flight was 1830. I was able to spend some time with Strolen. We discussed the site and his vision. Moon's 1830 flight had issues and a smaller plane was going to take the flight. Someone had to be bumped. I opted for it because I could get a more direct flight to home. Newark to Los Vegas. So I had two more hours than anticipated.

This left MoonHunter alone with his thoughts. You never leave MoonHunter alone with his thoughts. Strolen will recieve an Email about the Epiphany and ground work I did that time.

So I went to eat, feast of body and soul, secure in the knowledge that I would return refreshed and in plenty of time to walk the path of airflight. Ah to home.

Upon return I discovered the flight was now 2 hours later. I was distressed. I would miss my connection. In the back of my head, I heard the Great Oracle... It was fortold that it would be so. So of course, I ignored her and pressed on. I am never Fate's puppet.

The scribes at the desk assured me that my connecting flight was running about 2 hours late. So I sat, content that I might soon see home.

And I worked on things.

The flight was later than 2 hours, but it all seemed good. Progress was made.

I hit the terminal running. The window of opportunity was to be short. I did not even stop to check the waymap (status board). Like the wind I ran. The people moving paths only say walk or stand, but I would not be constrained by paint on the floor.

I missed my connecting flight by a mere 10 minutes. They had gotten in earlier and left as soon as they were able.

If I could transmute my ticket for cash, I would of rented a car and drove the night. Yet it was not to be so.

Trapped in Los Vegas, I returned to the scribes. Who sent me to others. Who were closing. But they sent me to others. They knew the ancient lore. Vouchers.

My path was rebooked. I was begining to feel I should be speaking in Hebrew as I was to waunder the desert for an age. To get to Oakland, I would first travel to Pheonix then from there, I would travel on to the Land of Oak. While the journey would start incredibly early and take most of the day, I would reach home about the time I would be boarding the direct flight from Los Vegas to Oakland (if that flight was not delayed).

To the Shuttle I was directed. Since three planes had failed connections, it was swamped. There was pushing, shoving, and moving trying to fit 30 people in the tiny minivan..

I made several attempts, but I was cut off each time.

Still, the cunning of the Hunter is great. I climbed in the luggage area and smiled at the driver as closed the hatch.

The magic of Vouchers was strong. A room it precured me.

In my Tiny Room, I made to take a nap, as there would be no time for real sleep. Four and a half hours would be all that could be allowed if I was to catch the shuttle to ensure I would be in line. Perhaps even time for breakfast in the Terminal, as the magic of Vouchers was with me.

The alarm did not go off. I slept an hour extra. Yet instincts well hones were with me.

I awoke and spung forth. I was up and out, but missed the shuttle my moments. 45 minutes for another. I decided to eat, but there had been a special dispatch to speed medicine and tickets to a traveller who had been staying there. I returned to discover the shuttle would not be back for 30 minutes.

A successful summoning roll and a yellow chariot appeared. It was costly in manna, but it achieve the end.

I made it with a bit to spare. My fears were less grounded this time, as the Scribes had properly registered me for the flight, so I need not of been there an extra hour early. I read my Gurps book.

I traveled to the desert. I wrote. I read. I had much caffine, even by my standards.

There I waited for a sign.

It was not what I thought.. a change of path (gate) was designated

I shuffled through the desert.

Again the gate was changed... I shuffled again.

The ship was late to depart beause they had no captain (pilot). A suitable replacement was found, and only an extra hour later, I was in the blue.. the hot desert behind me.

Still it was a pleasant journy in that last leg.

Yet upon arrival, my luggage was of course lost. With much golds worth of ancient tomes (100s of dollars of game books), I was distressed. Yet upon going to the special claim area, in search for new scribes to assist me, I found it there.. waiting for me as a long lost friend. (Did I mention that all my clothing and toiletries were in there as well, and I had not seen them for 20 plus hours?)

Into the breach of the rush hour, I sped home.

In my native pathways, I made time most excellent. I arrived home to find my hearth and family still intact.

I will revisit the convention, but this had to be said.