Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Another in a long series of fitful dreams
His fitful dreams turned back to his alternate persona Hannon, the Troll-Slaying cleric of Heimdall.
In his dream Hannon was tending to his Troll-slayer keepe, serving as harried magistrate and Lord to his newly-peopled lands in the Troll Fens. Things were going well in his life but he suffered a sense of ennui. He tried to explain everything to Salina. She just didn't understand his desire to "loaf" now that he had means. He wanted to travel to the Eastern Marches to explore the idea of Brahman, the eternal Oneness. This was pretty sensitive stuff for Hannon as he was sworn to Heimdall: son of nine mothers, swords, one arm, wolf bites and all. Hannon had the inkling however, that Heimdall was part of a larger cosmogony. A meta-cosmogony if you will.
Salina listend to his discourse on this in utter disbelief. She had sincere feelings for Hannon and wanted him to settle down as Liege of the newly-conquered Troll Fens and maybe she would couple with him in a bond agreeable to their two Deities. Hannon's dabbling with this Brawmin meta-cowjury stuff was not good for him getting the ok from Heimdall for a marriage outside his faith. She didn't want to have to convert to the Norse mythology as she was just fine worshiping Athena in her native hellenic mythos. Besides the Norse services were just such a bore. The Hellenic mythos was also more empowering to women and she would not hold to have their daughter raised in such a boorish culture without the influence of the Sisterhood of Athena.
She also noticed that Hannon had taken to smoking french cigarettes and talking about art.
She became angry at Hannon and stormed out of the coffee house where he was laying his vibe on her about the potential for an alternate unified cosmology. This was to be the last time anyone had seen her alive.
It was with this dreamed backdrop of a conflict between Hannon and Salina that Lord Turnips awoke to the sounds of Vardaman and Cash outside his cabin door fishing and japing.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Vardaman

The incandescent sun raises a thin film of sweat on Vardaman.
Meanwhile, Cash observes the Mr. Binky push his small broom across the foc’sle. Cash imagines he favors constructing baby buggies rather than coffins. Geometry favors coffins over buggies though.
Vardaman returns to his fishing – he has still caught no fish. His mother was a fish, he thinks, but not as clever as Mr. Binky. Mr. Binky knows a lot more than he lets on.
In another land, Johnny Sixguns realizes no prison can hold him and he blows the cell door off its rusty hinges with a cocktail of bat guano and coal dust.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Oooh, Oooh BLACK DIAMOND or Coming To Your Emotional Rescue

Lord Toranaga continued his conversation with Lady M as his three henchmen, The White Shadow, PW Giant Chin and Jimmy stood mutely guarding the exits.
First, surveying the grand hall with sweeping hand motions, he spoke to his henchmen, “Dunderheads, do you recall when I bought this magnificent stronghold?”
The three simpletons nodded like marionettes.
“Are we gonna go downrange boss?” PW interjected.
“No, not now. I have yet to weaponize the combination of your common sense, the White Shadow’s pick-up lines and Jimmy's sense of humor.”
“OOOOH, I want to be called Jimmy Fresh!” Jimmy shouted.
To which the other two replied, “Shut up or we are gonna call you ‘&*# bird’!”
The situation was clearly headed in the wrong direction.
Lady Marzipan looked appalled at this cretinous behavior as well as the White Shadow's poor table manners (he was licking the top of his ale bottle). Toranaga realized he had to quickly regain control of this scene before this opportunity to sway Lady M's opinion was spoilt. Without her, his plans to extract and purify slag, phosphor-gypsum, and calcium sulfate wastewater from Antipodan Mountains would all be for naught for she had the technical knowhow.
Perhaps it was time for the tender, sensitive approach.
So, presently he turned to Lady Marzipan, appearing in soft focus; now holding a cute widdle baby tiger cub drinking from a bottle in his arms,” If this home doesn’t appeal to you we can live with our in-laws until we find the palace of our dreams or a citadel that some mid-level manager with Enterprise Rent-A-Frigate bought two years ago because it was real big and nice and he got a 3.8% loan with 42% ARM. Now he is divorced and has an addiction to oxycontin and Jack Daniels and can't pay the 4,500 gold piece per month mortgage. I love the pain and suffering of others during the holidays.”
Before, she could reply Toranaga added for good measure, “Oh and I’ll kill Johnny Sixguns if you don’t agree to marry me – being the sensitive type I’ll give you until the sunset tomorrow to decide – sleep tight.”
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Sinister doings in the Antipodes


Have examined the multi-spectral imagery that indicates that enormouse amounts of slag, phosphogypsum, and calcium sulfate wastewater has been removed from Mount Cook Mountain. (Since Lord Turnips is indeed a decendent of Captain James Cook, I shall refrain from using the slang Aoraki Mountain)

Friday, December 19, 2008
Karen-ologists at Odds Over Cryptic "RBBB" Reference



Thursday, December 18, 2008
The Talented Mr. Binky

Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Through the astral portal, a glorious visage
"My Lord, I announce the arrival of a daughter to this realm of time known as Northern Virginia in the early 21st Century"
Lord Turnips was surprised at his Lady's ability to use the astral gate without his help as she normally struggled with all electronic devices and seemed to make it a point that his knowledge of electronics was some sort of character flaw. But, his appreciation for her at that moment outweighed this foible. "My Lady, our daughter is born? Halleleuah!!! Praise the Lord! And just in time for me to change my benefits before the new year tide, and in time to take advantage of the additional beneficiary in this year's inland revenue filings. Lady you are truely wise and good."
She then asked him if he would like to see the etchings she had commissioned of the Baby Turnips?
"Verily, my wife"
(Behold!)
Sunday, December 14, 2008
A Very Blue Monday
After having made up, Woody and the Admiral began discussing some other ways of profiting from their current adventures in order to satisfy the filthy lucre-hungry Schlamazel the Butcher.
"I was thinking that perhaps we could sell a souvenir mug or pictures of our heroic battle versus the vile Sahuagin to the locals at the pier or to our own crewmen as a 'keepsake'" Woody said.
The Admiral seemed confused.
"Picture? What is a "picture"? Do you mean the etching I had made of that battle? You've probably never ventured down to sub-deck 4 in the lowermost level of the Panetary Sovereign. That's where I keep my army of artisans who document every aspect of my life via skectches, etches, painting, writing epic poetry, creating interpretive dance routines of what I have for breakfast, and writing illustrated children's stories about my belly-button lint."
To which Woody testily replied, "I thought I was in charge of epic poetry!"
At that the slap fight recommenced.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Shoot that Poison Arrow Through My Heart
Actually, Lady Marzipan was seated at one end of a long oaken dining room table in a quality, well-padded dining room chair. The chair arms were a little high and didn't fit under the table so that was a little awkward. Tornaga was seated at the other end per standard idiom. There were lots of candles and highly flammable fabrics draped about the room.
“I do not speak of love” Toranaga said.
“Your love is rotten to the core” replied Lady M
“I’ve told you before, I do not wish to speak of love” Lord Toranaga continued, “And I suggest you re-consider my offer if you care for your friends.”
Lady M would have none of this - “Toranaga, I care enough that I can never love you!”
The horrible Lord Toranaga rose from his seat and said “In that case you will bleed for I have no time to mess about!”
Lady Marzipan was outraged but maintained an unflustered exterior. As she idly picked at her cheese toast she quietly exclaimed, “My friends will come and crush you Toranaga.”
“Oh I don’t think so because EVEN IF they make it past my Sahuagin warriors and the Daughters of Odin AND Count Grimani AND the black chainmail turtleneck wearing assassins at the Kristal Stadt Coffee House at Kierkagaard Square, I still have two of my top agents on the Planetary Sovereign! MUHAHAHAHHAHAHA” Toranaga cackled.
Lady M looked momentarily taken aback.
Toranaga raised a crystal goblet of egg nogg to his lips and spoke, “Ah yes, I am well aware of what has been going on aboard your friend, the Admiral’s vessel - we shall be prepared for them and I’m afraid they shall all die.”
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Killing Moon Will Come Too Soon
As Lord Turnips began to ruminate over the past few days he felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck along with a burning sensation. He could not place it but he felt a pang of unease whenever he thought about certain periods when he had less than perfect recall of events. He seemed to have an image in his head of a Valkerie speaking with him while he stood at the lip of a crater. He also seemed to recall that she refererred to him as Hannon Trollslayer.
Without consciousness he scribbled the following words on the beech parchment with a diamond tipped fountain pen that Admiral Rossoroni had provided :
Monday, December 8, 2008
Harmony Restored and A Perilous Decision Awaits

The two sparring warriors calmed a bit following Turnips departure. Each looked quite abashed.
Woody: "I'm sorry"
The Admiral: "No, I'm sorry"
Woody: "I'm sorriest"
The Admiral "Ok, you are the sorriest, but I'm still really sorry"
Woody: "Friends?"
The Admiral: "Friends!"
The brave and manly former-combatants shook hands and reviewed the situation.
Woody: "Where did Turnips go?"
The Admiral: "Oh brother, weren't we trying to cheer him up?"
Woody: "I think he was kind of upset about all that sacking even though the sacking was only light to moderately sacking."
The Admiral: "I agree, he's too lawful good for his own good whereas you and I are rather more of the chaotic variety. And, a little more neutral-ish (and here he caught himself) although we are totally committed to rescuing Lady M and Johnny Sixguns, re-building the magic dingus of seven parts and restoring Livoniumtonchester to its former glory. Yes, ok so we are a little chaotic neutral-ISH. But certainly not EVIL! And, I did get a nice Hummel figurine that I was looking for - Its rated quite highly on the Bradford Exchange."
Woody: "Oh sure, but you know if you don't pay Schlamazel the Butcher back, he'll grill our &%%^%^$ that'll take more than a Hummel Figurine and a couple of enchanted gizmos."
The Admiral (putting his finger to his chin, pensively): "True, True, that means we might just have to do some more freebooting."
"Back to Kristal Stadt?" asked Woody? "All we got there was this magical porcelain horseshoe shaped thingy."
Writing Frightening Verse to a Bucktooth Girl in Luxembourg

Hannon/Turnips was in a deep funk.
He sat at his spartan bunk gazing through sunken, red-rimmed eyes at his two adventuring mates, Woody the Half-Elven Illusionist and the Admiral. He absentmindedly twirled the magical dodecahedron in his fingers.
Lord Turnips/Hannon clearly re-emphasized that whilst the Good Party enjoyed many outstanding adventures and had blasted to smithereens, rendered unto dust, dispatched with make-do monster vertebrae flails, and generally smoten . . . many a foe, they had done so under the banner of lawful goodishness.
He also raised a point about the appropriate casus belli that led them to sack the Temple of the Daughters of Odin and Count Grimani’s Castle.
But, it was more than this, it was more than Salina or the imprisoned Lady M or the creepy pair of characters constantly building coffins in the ships’ hold.
Woody hesistated at first but decided they had to do something, “Look Turnips, you know what I do when I when I’m feeling down in the dumps like you? I compose another brilliant poem!”
The Admiral sensing an opening added “And I write entertaining stories in my logbook in which I visualize outcomes to my liking!”
“Sure” Woody added, “And look at old Bocking, he composes rude songs about people when he’s not planning their murders. That’s how he takes his mind off his troubles.”
“I’ve actually started one” replied Turnips as he showed them his own notebook.
Inside was indeed an introduction to a poem. It went as follows: “The day is gone and all its sweets are gone, soft voice ..”
Woody broke in sounding annoyed, “No, no, oh no, not all gooey like that! You need to write poems about dragons, dirks and lances and vanquishing wicked Lichs!”
“Now wait a second Woody, I’ve seen some of your stuff about certain ladies and its just like that” the Admiral chided.
“What were you doing looking in my personal poem book Freebooter?” said Woody, hands place petulantly on his hips.
“Well, it just so happens that I’m the Captain of this vessel..” but the Admiral was unable to finish his statement because both he and Woody somehow found themselves in a slap fight with Turnips caught between the two - each launching highly ineffective blows on the other.
“I think I’ll go talk to Cash and Vardaman” said Turnips as he escaped the cabin.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The Inept Wizard of The Rusty Palm

After receiving the gift of the Magic Dingus of Seven Parts from the glistening misty figure: Raven Odinsdottir, Hannon/Lord Turnips considered his plight. He looked into the blood-strewn crater and saw a scrap of a parchment. He picked it up and read it. It was an editorial from the Elders of the Fort of the River Straights, an important center of artisanry in the Kingdom located in the South East Corner of the Peninsula of the Rusty Palm (aka Michigan).
(Carl the Inept)
Carl the Inept --a wizard who has sat upon the Council of the Important in an impressive marble building for 30 years (1979-2009) in league with fellow important wizards. This wizard sat upon as chairman of the all powerful Armed Services Committee of the council of the Important for most of these years. During this time his home province, the Peninsula of the Rusty Palm has received naught in federal military spending and indeed even drew down several important bases. Carl the Inept now stands up to defend the Peninsula of the Rusty Palm during its most critical hour. He mounts no rebuke at all to the Bane of the Peninsula's citizenry, Lord Shelby the Jackass, of the Province of Crimson Tides who has secured innumerable federal dollars for the seer-sucker and straw-boater garbed denizens of his province, and provided lucrative incentives for lucky foreign artisans who have protected home markets to come produce at lower cost in his province so as to undercut the people of the Peninsula of the Rusty Palm. So now when Lord Shelby the Jackass argues that the artisans and industry of the Peninsula of the

(Lord Shelby the Jackass)
Well, thanks a bunch Carl the Inept and thanks a bunch Lord Shelby the Jackass, from the people of the Peninsula of the Rusty Palm and our sister states of the lands of the Snowy North. We'll keep you in mind when the next hurricane comes to your land. Perhaps you should have seen that coming? Wishing a plague of ghoul frogs to devour your homes and for a Basilisk to kiss your mothers. Eds.
So back to our story.....
After reading the editorial parchment, Perhaps it was a memory from his own youth when last his home peninsula was under the same level of duress, Lord Turnips/Hannon remembered a little better that he wasn't supposed to call Debbie V. In fact she was the sister of John V and she was often tantalizingly present to enjoy the banter of meetings of the Good Party co-led by John Wisshard and Hannon Troll-Slayer. Although John V served in a Chief Financial Officer role and had substantial perks and benefits of the other members of the C-suite, he had no veto power over party adventuring activities.
Lord Turnips/Hannon recalled also that whilst the Good Party enjoyed many outstanding adventures and had blasted to smithereens, rendered unto dust, dispatched with make-do monster vertebrae flails, and generally smoten . . . many a foe, they had done so under the banner of lawful goodishness. So it was with some confusion he asked Admiral Rossoroni the appropriate casus belli that led them to sack the Temple of the Daughters of Odin and Count Grimani’s Castle?
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Hannon, Warlord of Turnips

Homework, twenty-sided die, thief …that was weird.
Hannon / Turnips was back in the crater again … same black hat, same miscellaneous body parts, same ethereal figure of a gorgeous Northern maiden bearing down on him.
Wait. Check that. That maiden bit, that was new, he hadn’t noticed it before.
The misty figure spoke, “Fear not brave Hannon for I am Raven Odinsdottir and I have a gift for you.”
“Nice! What is it? A magic sword? A magic ring?” replied Hannon/Turnips.
Raven Odinsdottir tossed her lovely hair back, raised her right hand skyward and said, “No, it is a dodecahedron of wondrous power!”
She continued “I also have a Hummel figurine – it’s a limited edition – a young lad with a pot on his head, having his hair trimmed by the village barber. I didn’t want the Admiral to leave the Temple of Odin’s Daughters empty handed.”
Turnips was confused “What shall I do with this regular geometric solid?”
“Oh that? I think its part of the Magic Dingus of Seven Parts – one down, six to go” the ghostly figure added for good measure. You can find another one in Kristal Stadt.”
Friday, December 5, 2008
Good heavens, Miss Sakamoto! You're beautiful!
This was not his usual sartorial fare. Normally he adorned himself in loose hanging comfort typical of his station as a middle aged, minister of government and supremely rich proponent of agriculture and the arts.
As he looked around he saw the severed limbs, heads, and torsos of dozens of orcs. Slightly further away he saw the snakey vertibrae of an Ogre that had been used as a flail to dispatch several dozen skeletons. [ed. SEE] A little beyond that he saw a crater which contained naught but a black wizards hat and staff and possibly a few body parts strewn across the crater indicating that someone who had been dressed like a wizard had been blown to smithereens (although Turnips did not know what a smithereen was.)
At that moment he remembered that he needed to phone Debbie V. on the pretext of helping her with her homework and that she kept promising to come over to play a thief character named Salina. Maybe he could get her to come over to check out his dice collection?
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Shot Through the Heart and You're to Blame: You Give Love a Bad Name (Bad Name)

That evening, following the somewhat less-than- successful sacking of the Temple of the Daughters of Odin, the party gathered around the steam harpsichord in the Planetary Sovereign’s ample lounge. The Admiral was holding forth beneath the swaying, candle filled crystal candelabra on the topic of the mysterious and charming Salina. In support, Mr. Mudskipper, the ship’s graphic artist had designed several charts depicting Salina in various slinky guises for the purposes of visual recognition. The entire party paid absolutely rapt attention of the sort normally reserved for a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.
“Gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, prior to charting a course through mer-man territory we’ll be paying a brief visit to the port city of Kristal Stadt, located here” and the Admiral gestured at a crudely drawn map with an X identifying the port’s general location somewhere to the southwest.
“Oh please” cried an exasperated Lady Lyme Weoghe, “That is absolutely the worst map ever! Schott could have done a better job – just how do you expect us to navigate with that? I mean, this is the bonehead that convinced us that there were just a 'couple' of skeletons and orcs at that so-called 'temple' and that 'fire elementals' were actually just a type of matchstick.”
But she was unable to finish as the hubbub rose.
Woody raised an eager hand.
“Yes Woody, what’s on your mind?”
“Why are we going to Kristal Stadt? Are we running low on Courvoisier?”
“Not Courvoisier exactly, but we are running low on the stuff that puts the ‘booty’ in ‘freebooter’ and by that I mean, gold, gems and the like – someone else’s of course.”
The Admiral continued, “Plus, I want to stop at my favorite restaurant, ‘Le Glace Lune’ to grab a quick bite.”
Rushing turned to Ali Baba el Mendab Penna the Younger and said quite excitedly “I hear you can get the best grilled cheese sandwich in the entire doggone Theocracy of Pale there.”
Ali Baba el Mendab Penna the Younger began to reply but before he could finish Zimbar stepped between the two and placed his grimy halfling hands on the lads’ shoulders “Why yes indeed that is true, and I shall take the opportunity to renew my partnership with our dear friend Kaotic E, thirteenth level fighter/thief. I believe he’s currently their executive chef – I understand he’s been looking to moonlight though.”
Turnips broke in. “Now wait just a second because (dramatic pause), A: who is Kaotic E and B: what about Salina?”
He was starting to feel there was no sign of the morning coming; that he’d been left out alone, like a rainbow in the dark.
Luckily the wise Admiral had a plan. “Ahh, Salina. You see Turnips old boy, she’s made a financially advantageous engagement to that aging lothario Count Grimani. No need to fret then, we will execute a financially advantageous sacking of Count Grimani’s Castle; rescue Salina and buy some spare parts for the Fedor.”
“Sorry” Turnips replied, “When there’s lightning, you know it always brings me down.”
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The Temple of the Daughters of Odin


Undated picture of Penna the Younger
"It's that 'chap' I'm worried about, Woody," replied the Admiral. "A low level sorcerer who can only summon elementals and skeletons could never throw fireballs like that. And they don't attack well defended castles either."