Knights of Perakis

Miss Demeanor
And so it Begins
Girls and all that entails.
They're ALWAYS named Chad

"Come on, man," Chad said, flopping down on the couch. "Come out with us tonight. We'll hit the clubs. Listen to some awesome music, hit that crowded dance floor, and hit on girls!"

Sam glared at Chad. "That sounds like something out of my worst nightmares." he picked up the remote control and turned up the volume on the TV. "Dark rooms, big crowds, and THOSE kinds of girls," he rolled his eyes. "Overpriced food and drink. Bleh."

"I'm offering girls, here, Sam," Chad insisted. "Close quarters, get right up close in there, go with the music, who knows what will happen?"

Sam barked out a laugh. "You'll come home at two A.M. exhausted and broke, alone. Like every night."

"You're hopeless," Chad threw up his hands in disgust. "All you do is watch this stupid What Doctor all day, when you could instead go out and hit on girls."

"That's the difference between you and me," Sam chuckled. "You would settle for any old girl."

"Hey," Chad sniffed. "Not OLD girls. Just, you know,"

"Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before." Sam laughed, and hit Chad with a pillow. He glanced up and across the common room. "Hey, Natalie!" He waved one hand over his head as he paused the episode with the other.

Chad snorted. "Like she would hang out with you." He rolled his eyes back at Sam. "She's only one of the hottest girls, and you're just a nerdy little dweeb—"

"Who happens to be a fellow Hufflepuff." a woman's voice interrupted him. The brunette's arms wrapped themselves around Sam's neck, her hair falling around his head, hiding Sam's smirk. "You know, Chad, some guys actually care what's going on in my head more than what parts of me may or may not be visible." She laughed and pulled her hair back behind her shoulders. "What's up, Sam?"

"We still on for Nerdycon, Captain Marvel?" Sam asked, craning his head back.

Natalie laughed. "I've got the hair dye and my cosplay is just about done.?"

"You going to be wearing a slave Leia costume?" Chad leered.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Contrary to what men might think, we don't dress up for YOU. We dress up because it's fun, and we like doing it. You still planning on being Castiel, Sam?"

Sam grinned. "Are apocalypses drawn to the Winchesters? Found a kick-ass coat in a thrift shop last week, but I'm gonna be wearing a bow tie and suspenders, and making it an Eleven Castiel."

Natalie laughed. "I'll see you there," she said, and bounced off after ruffling his hair.

"Man, I never get tired of watching her walk away," Chad said, his eyes following her as she returned to the other side of the room. "Why do girls like her always stick me in the Friend Zone?" he complained.

Sam grinned. "Maybe you just don't have game, son. You see, you're going to sit here alone next weekend after striking out, again, and I'll be taking her to Nerdycon. You see, it's all about close quarters with people who ACTUALLY share your interests, THOSE kinds of girls, and overprices food and drink. You know, dark rooms watching previews and presentations, getting right up in there with the fandom wars, going with the flow of the con—who knows what will happen?"

Chad nodded absently, not really listening. "Yeah, so are you taking Natalie? I mean, she's the hottest girl I've seen in a month."

Sam burst out laughing. "Chad, you're so naive. Natalie's nice, but I can do way better. I mean, she's pretty and everything, but I need a girl that's a lot nerdier than her."

Chad nodded earnestly. "So she needs a pair of thick glasses, then?"

Sam threw a pillow at Chad. "You're hopeless, you know that?"

The Tombs of A Giant
In the Library of Forever

"But, my dear, they are all here," Seshat said quietly, glancing up at Mitch from behind the desk and its mountain range of books. "All of the Greats have tombs in our halls. We wouldn't be much of a Library if we didn't." She slunk to her feet, and her hand swam through the air, one of the library's halls seeming to swim towards the outstretched arm, rather than the other way around. "What is one of your favorite authors?" Her voice whispered into his ear.

Mitch swallowed. "T-Terry Pratchett," he muttered.

One perfect eyebrow rose in surprise. "Tolkien is one of the more usual responses, but Pratchett it is." She flowed around the desk and down the indicated hall, and Mitch found himself following more as if he were caught in her wake rather than a conscious choice. Her sonorous alto continued a running commentary, and he found himself running to keep up with her soft speech more than to stay in sight.

"Most well known for Discworld, Sir Terry Pratchett was a frequent visitor to the Library, and his spirit remains here, as well as many other authors." She paused at that, and looked over her shoulder, expectantly. Mitch followed at her heels, looking up at her expectantly.  "To the question you didn't ask," she murmured, drawing Mitch in even closer, "We do not have their bodies. No, that is too vulgar. This is no mere cemetery, and I am no mere death goddess. THIS is the Library, and I am Seshat." With a slight sigh of fabric, she came to a halt.

Mitch found himself unable to stop in time, and closed his eyes as he braced himself for a collision with the goddess. A soft, warm hand wrapped itself around one of his, and he suddenly found himself moving. Spinning.

A warm arm wrapped itself around his back as he came to a halt, and he opened his eyes to see the laughter crinkling the Librarian goddess' eyes. He quickly realized that he was being held in one arm, in a dancer's swoop. The Librarian's hand twitched, and he found himself once again spinning away from her strong arm's support, and he came to a stop directly facing a large pair of double doors wrought from a dark, solid-looking wood.

Across the doors there were no decorations. No plaque or name-plate. Only a simple phrase, written in a shimmering, purplish color. "AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER."

"You have no idea," Seshat murmured, "How difficult it was to invent the colour of magic. I could have just gone with purple, but only Octarine would do for him." One hand floated up to the doors, and at a soft caress, both doors opened silently.

Inside, an orangutan looked up from a desk and a pile of books that echoed Seshat's from the main entrance. Upon the desk, there was a simple nameplate that read "Librarian." "Ook," it remarked blandly, and pointed to a nearby sight before he  returned to his paperwork. The sign read "The three rules of the Librarians of Time and Space are: 1) Silence; 2) Books must be returned no later than the last date shown; and 3) Do not interfere with the nature of causality."

Seshat made her way inside the room, and Mitch found himself once again caught in her wake. Shelves were filled with colorful titles, and were adorned with organizing plaques proclaiming By Chronological Order, City Watch, Witches, Rincewind, Wee Free Men, Kids (and Kids at heart), By Order of Silliness, Death, and Cats. The books rustled quietly, the covers flapping quietly. Tacked to one wall were a series of maps.

In the back, an enormous book lay on a marble podium, with a white light shining down on it.  Written on the podium, in Octarine, was written "Complete Works of Sir Terry Pratchett (in a single volume)." The massive book had a wrought-iron cover, and the cover was flapping urgently, trying to lift off into the air, but a chain with links as thick as one of Mitch's arms kept it firmly secured to the podium. From the pages, an Octarine sheen could be seen rising from the pages like a heat mirage.

"Welcome to the Tomb of Sir Pratchett," Seshat intoned quietly. "We do not deal with such petty things as bodies here in the library. Give it a few hundred or thousand years, and all that will remain will be dust. Here," she said quietly, brushing a finger over a display case full of loose sheets of paper placed in seemingly haphazard piles, labeled Rough notes, 1978. "we do not remember what someone looked like, or merely what they did. Here, in the Library of Forever, our catacombs lay to rest the prose and ideas of great men, rather than their bones and marrow.

"You may destroy a body completely," she continued smoothly. "But it is much harder to destroy a dream. It is my job to ensure that those such as he are never forgotten, and remembered until after the end of time itself." She smiled tenderly. "As he himself once wrote, 'Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?'"

Welcome to your campaign!
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5. Write your first Adventure Log post

The adventure log is where you list the sessions and adventures your party has been on, but for now, we suggest doing a very light “story so far” post. Just give a brief overview of what the party has done up to this point. After each future session, create a new post detailing that night’s adventures.

One final tip: Don’t stress about making your Obsidian Portal campaign look perfect. Instead, just make it work for you and your group. If everyone is having fun, then you’re using Obsidian Portal exactly as it was designed, even if your adventure log isn’t always up to date or your characters don’t all have portrait pictures.

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