Lord Shield's Bar.... I've no idea what number.

A man walks in the bar, eyeing everyone carefully. "This seems like a nice place. Bartender, give me your finest." SecretMaster says.

[Tiamat]

Watsup mortal!

[Neb]

(OOC: An Aasimon is a QUITE strong creature from one of the good upper planes.)

The bartender complies with the request. He also twitches at the sound of the greeting that Gwhanos uses, it's one of the most annoying ones in existence and comes from a truly horrible Prime world.

Everyone who remembers Encard greets him. In Tiax's case this is done by thwacking the mage over the shins with a mace, which is then teleported from the gnome, and shouting, "Tiax rules all! Bow before him!"

The Aasimon and Dantes go about playing their game of poker. Luck allows Dantes to win thirteen out of twenty rounds.

Various planar creatures are constantly ducking inside, having a few drinks and leaving again, some stay. There's already a few more Aasimon and Aasimar that have taken up permanently staying in or around the Bar. So have a few Baatezu. And those are the more normal creatures that have decided to do so.

[Tiamat]

OOC: I believe that Gwhanos is a Tanar'ri or a unique demon all his own...........
A Cornogon walks up to Gwhanos with ease......
C: YUUUUUUUU! *picks me up* YOU ARE NOTHING! I WILL HAVE MY AVENGANCE OF MY FATHER! *throws me into a table*
Gwhanos: You will pay for that! IGAGL!
* a shadowy symbiote -seamonster thingy with red eyes comes launching out of my maw*
Cornogon: Held
Cornogon: Energy Drain
Cornogon: Spell Drain
*as their battlion member is in trouble, 2 more cornogons come to help!* They use lightning bolt; the 'tongue' is severed!

Gwhanos, in pain....... regenerates it and creates a 3 headed incarnation!
Gwhanos wraps his tongue heads around the cornogons...... and they begin to fade.... and an effigy of light black surges through the symbiote.......... Gwhanos has 'won over' a being; he now permanently owns the cornogon's abilities and spells. the second 1 got absorbed aswell..... but thurd...... teleported to a safe area (the kitchen)
Gwhanos puts his 'sappers' away.......... *they rematerialize to gwhanos's tongue......*

[Neb]

Ghwanos's draining suddenly runs in reverse, he loses the power of the two Cornugons and they rematerialize in the Bar. A loud rumbling voice speaks, "Nothing can be killed within the Bar, go outside if you MUST do battle. And also remember that nothing can leave unless it wishes to leave itself or I wish it to leave."

In other words, Gwhanos can't kill the Cornugons inside the Bar and he can't drag them outside unless they WANT to come with him. Which they of course won't since he's stronger than them.

(OOC: Tiamat, do you know EXACTLY how strong a Cornugon is? Someone who can defeat three of them that easily is dangerously close to being a munchkin.

Everyone feel free to take control of a random NPC within the Bar, except for the Aasimon, who's my personal character. And the staff.)

[Tiamat]

Their pretty simple in ToB. You just dispell their confusion and hack them to bits. Im about as strong as a true DnD pitfiend or just a unique balor..... just to give u an idea..... I choose to have a pitfiend's abilities, and they are about on par with planatars.. and I notice that good is always stronger than evil.......... and isnt there some sort of Omni demon or something........

[Neb]

(OOC: Sorry Tiamat, but you'll need to tune down those powers. A Pit Fiend is worth 57500 XP, you will NOT be allowed to be as strong as or stronger than that. Create yourself a.... Level 7 or 8 character with no special abilites or immunities and that'll be about the strength that I'll be allowing here.)

[Tiamat]

You are some sort of deva-thing tho!

[Neb]

(OOC: I am the DM of this thread. And a Twilight Aasimon doesn't have the powers to truly uber. It's only worth 6000 XP. Now either create a less uber-ish character or LEAVE. You've already managed to kill one RP with your ubering.)

Khael'reth the Twilight Aasimon walks over to the newly arrived person who's just ordered the Bar's finest. "Hello good sir, I sense something special about you. Who are you? What are you?"

Meanwhile something strange is happening outside, a swarm of butterflies have enveloped the Bar, the bartender curses, "Spire butterflies, damnable things will keep people from entering or leaving the Bar. Anyone willing to go drive them away?"

(OOC: They can fire their stings like Magic Missiles, though it kills them, and they can drain magical items as well as memorized spells. There are a good hundred of them.)

[Cyril Darkcloud]

Myron Epimetheus

On the uppermost floor of the tavern is a door that has not opened in a very long time. Few would even remember that night so long ago when a strange little man went upstairs to his quarters to pursue an intriguing idea found in the margins of a book he had chanced upon. All that night he pursued the idea trying to understand it. The pursuit continued through the next day and the one after that as well. Stopping neither to sleep nor to eat, he thought and he read and he considered and he reflected, allowing himself only the pause required to write down a few notes from time to time. The idea was subtle, however, and elusive to his grasp. To master it he had need of other ideas and so he pursued these as well. Idea led to idea and thought led to thought and the scraps of paper bearing his scribbled notes formed piles of formidable size. All this time the door remained closed and the strange little man continued his chase of ideas. Patrons in the rooms below would sometimes comment on strange mutterings invading their dreams and the sound of nervous footsteps pacing above them, but the door to the room on the upper floor remained closed, the elemental servants obediently respecting the command not to disturb the occupant of the room. Perhaps the door would never have been opened again, but the strange stasis which had settled over the tavern slowed down even the mad and unrelenting thinking behind the door. The sudden return of life and vigor to the tavern and its patrons stimulated and redirected the thinking of the little man.

The dry and tight skin of a lifeless hand turns the handle of the door. A pile of scribbled scraps of paper falls out into the hallway and restless feet shuffle out of the room behind a soft and steady muttering. “There is just so much to do. So many books to read. So many thoughts to think. So many ideas to pursue. Yes, there is so very much to be done. So very much and in so little time. Time! O! There is just never enough time. Never enough time to do the many things one needs to do.”

ooc: Myron is an undead sage. He is exceedingly knowledgeable but also quite mad. He is a scholar and not an adventurer and is essentially harmless.