crystal

[bouchonne]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Byerly
RECIPIENT: Everyone
NOTES: Please write dumb bullshit

Good evening, Riftwatch. In the spirit of no ideas being bad ideas, I'm currently looking for novel plans to defeat Corypheus. I recently was considering the merits of sending him a dog to soften his heart and improve his temperament. Bastien pointed out it'd be cruel to send a poor pup to fulfill that purpose, so we're thinking we'd recruit some shapeshifting mage instead.

All suggestions welcome. And since I am a sporting man, the most creative one gets a bottle of 9:36 Antivan red.

Comments

[lumelume]

[SWEATS LOUDLY]

[bouchonne]

[ bork bork motherfucker ]

[glandival]

I will seduce him.

[bouchonne]

Perfect. What do you think he's into?

[glandival]

Redheads, évidimment.

[ And then, after a moment to think about it; ]

And foot things. Which will disgust me, but we make sacrifices where we must.

[bouchonne]

You are as great a hero as Andraste herself, madame. I must also imagine he's the sort of man who likes to be dominated.

[glandival]

Ah oui, with that ego of his. But he will need to be cajoled about it first. [ Spoken like she's eyerolling about it. Men. ]

They should release this part of the Chant. I know some who might convert for an Andraste who will step on them.

[bouchonne]

Oh, Maker, yes. Myself among them. We should share this with our Chantry-affiliated brethren. I know they have something of a recruitment problem.

[glandival]

I bet our arrived Templars have an opinion on the matter.

[bouchonne]

I'll pay you two copper if you suggest it to them.

[glandival]

[ That gets a real laugh. Two coppers. Two! Coppers. ]

That they release their Andraste féminine domination sex secrets to the masses? I will do that for free or for one hundred gold.

[okayimin]

And where do you two think all of those limericks about the Maker's rod and Andraste's fair toes come from to begin with.

[bouchonne]

Sister! Who told you about those?

[okayimin]

Clerical Sister in Val Royeaux. I think she wrote a few, but you don't speculate who wrote which, you know.

[glandival]

Scripture, I hope.

[okayimin]

Close. If a scribe who's worked on an illuminated text hasn't written a dirty limerick, it's only because they couldn't think of a good enough rhyme.

[bouchonne]

Hm. I prefer free.

[glandival]

Then it will be a time and place of my choosing. I will inform you of the results, some day.

[truthtied]

I think that would be cruel to the mage as well. We might try hurling him into the sun? He doesn't seem the type who'd withstand that.

[bouchonne]

Ah, I'm afraid I persistently skip the exercises intended to build upper body strength.

[truthtied]

[ she laughs. ]

Well, I was thinking to do it myself, but not having access to my normal abilities has put quite the damper on several of my plans.

There is always hiding soldiers in a hollowed horse and tricking his forces into dragging it into the center of their encampments.

[bouchonne]

Those would have to be very small soldiers.

[truthtied]

No, just a very large wooden horse. Large enough to seem like a tribute from a surrendering army and large enough to hide the army within. Of course, given the nature of Corypheus' forces, I'm not sure if he's the sort who'd indulge in celebratory feasting. That would make overtaking the city while his forces are drunk a bit tricky.

Or the Venatori might light it afire, which would increase the difficulty twice over again.

[bouchonne]

And I'm not sure that he likes horses enough. Perhaps we could make it a statue of him?

[truthtied]

That may work better. I've never met anyone with aspirations of godhood who wasn't vain. And if we include the dragon, we could hide more soldiers inside.

[bouchonne]

I like the way you think. Give him rippling abs. No one can resist a depiction of themselves with rippling abs.

[truthtied]

Of course. If he's going to be a god, he'll need a statue of exquisite beauty to place prominently in the center of his realm. Preferably at the back of his military forces.

[bouchonne]

How is your carving talent?

[truthtied]

Negligible. If I start at on the toes, he may up passably handsome by the time I reach the face.

[thereneverwas]

Find out the song he hates most, teach it to everyone in Riftwatch. We lay siege through the power of collective terrible singing.

[bouchonne]

Glorious. We should recruit a children's choir to sing it.

[thereneverwas]

Ooh, I like it.

[bouchonne]

So what's the worst song you know?

[thereneverwas]

I think we should take a poll. My least favorite song could be someone else's anthem.

[bouchonne]

Do it. I place this task in your capable hands.

[thereneverwas]

[a light groan of protest: uggh, work]

[youwonscience]

[Silently considers and then rejects introducing the evil of the Kars 4 Kids jingle to Thedas.]

[cozen]

[ With the tone and pacing of a fellow counting off on his fingers: ]

We write him letters pretending to be one of the other Magisters Sidereal, develop a close friendship, and ask him to meet in a neutral location, alone, so we can tell him something important, and then we chop off his head.

We make a Corypheus costume that a few people can wear together, standing on one another's shoulders, and have the imposter set up camp in another city until he has to come prove he is the real one in person, and then we chop off his head again.

We make a Corypheus costume, but then we make it, you know, pretty, and figure out what his mating call is, and—you know.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly makes a horrible sound, like the bugle of a mangled elk. ]

[cozen]

Aha! You know it. That means you must be the head of Lady Darkspawn. Or perhaps the middle, so the call can come from deep in the chest.

[indissection]

We could seduce him - together, of course, I'd hate to assume his preferences - and then poison him with said wine.