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"Garnoa is still flying the ship. I remember the first time I played FFIX; I was thinking about how much more useful Garnoa is than Rinoa, simply because of the flying of the ship. I was all, 'Oh my God -- an FF heroine that's doing something.' Given that Garnoa could hardly be considered a strong female character, that really says something about how useless Rinoa is."
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Archive for the ‘Recapper Roleplay’ Category


Oblivion RR Part 9 — Fetch quests, fabulous friends, and furries

Wow, I had a busy day today, diary!

The sheets must not have been woven from Tidus pubes, as I slept soundly with no nightmares. I almost felt rested this morning, but it’ll take more than one night to make up for all my misadventures and missed sleep over the past few days. The tavern was empty when I went downstairs for breakfast, but Olav shared some of the town gossip with me — apparently a local couple named Arnora and Jorundr were having some type of redneck domestic dispute. Sounds like something I should get right in the middle of. Why do I have a feeling I’m not joking about this?

Ongar, my fence, was nowhere to be found at this bright and early hour, so I decided to explore Bruma in the daytime. I might as well make the most of it, since I put all that effort into getting to this frozen hellhole. The morning was cold and foggy, as expected, which was not a promising start. But things could only get better, right? Right?

I started off my exploration in a methodical fashion along the outer wall of the city. After discovering multiple identical locked houses in a row — and it was too risky for my traditional B&E at this time of day — I finally encountered an unlocked house I could enter without risking arrest. Unfortunately, I recognized the name on the door — or rather, the informational text overlay when I neared the house. This fine wooden shack belonged to Arnora, the redneck lady. I didn’t want to end up in the middle of a chair-throwing, screaming fight, but admittedly, that would be more interesting than anything else in this city so far. So I took a chance and walked in uninvited.


Posted by Jeanne at 23:20


Oblivion RR Part 8 — Contains imp nudity and strong recapper language

Three hours. Three measly hours of sleep in my drafty old shack before it was time to get my ass out of bed and set out for the tropical paradise of Bruma. I mean, I’ve never been there, but it’s far to the north so I bet the climate is spectacular. Nothing but warm weather, blue skies, and sandy beaches. And the town itself, famous for its amazing architecture and vast array of cultural splendors. The very finest food, drink, art, music — Bruma is where it’s all at.




On my way out of the Imperial City, I once again passed the corpses of the pirates I killed in self defense. Are you kidding me? This is just unsanitary by now. I even watched as a guard had a conversation with a flamboyant elf right next to the bodies. I’m starting to wonder if I’m the only person that can see them. Maybe they were cleaned up days ago, and the stain of guilt on my murderous soul has caused me to hallucinate the crumpled remains of my victims.

Ha! Gotcha again!


Posted by Jeanne at 10:04


Oblivion RR Part 7 — Suck it, Jensine

I really should have slept in longer. Five hours really isn’t long enough, especially after a day of being molested by zombies and necromancers. But I was so excited to sell my shit that I was up at the buttcrack of dawn. Which for me is 9AM. I visited Jensine again and offloaded a bunch of stuff I’d collected in the dungeon — including that pointy statue thing, which was worth over a hundred gold! — some potions I’d made, and some stuff I’d found in crates out in front of her shop. I guess those items are free for the taking and aren’t considered stolen, which makes a whole lot of sense. Still, who am I to argue with free money?

This is unbelievable, diary, but I ended up with 2021 gold by the end of the transaction! That was enough to buy a house! Sure, I’d only have 21 gold left after all that, but who cares — I would no longer be homeless!

I ran as fast as I could with my sack full of gold to the Office of Imperial Commerce and plunked the whole pile on the counter. My excitement waned when Vinicia told me I’d have to buy the damn furnishings myself. Shit! I’d just spent my hard-earned coin on an empty shack! How lame is that? At least Vinicia told me where to buy the stuff: from some guy named Sergius Verus at Three Brothers Trade Goods. From the name of the store and the man, I’m guessing this isn’t the most heterosexual of shopping establishments. “Brothers.” Right. They’d better not try to drive up the prices just because I’m a woman. Maybe I should have Thoronir put in a good word for me.

But then I got a great idea. I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before. Now that Agarmir was dead, I could loot his house with no fear of him walking in and making me a permanent feature of his death basement. Sadly, Agarmir owned very little of value, and those items that would fetch a price were still considered stolen goods by the local merchants. So here I was, with a pile of cloth, clothing, and a crystal ball, and it turned out I had to lug that shit to Bruma to sell it. God damn it.


Posted by Jeanne at 15:25


Oblivion RR Part 6 — Silent Cyrodiil

Once again, I made it through the night without dying. I didn’t sleep well, obviously — I can’t imagine most people would enjoy the damp coldness, not to mention that dusty old smell. But I slept a lot better than I thought I would. I was just so tired from all the previous day’s killing. I probably should have taken a personal day rather than charging right into a dungeon, but…well, I don’t really have a good excuse. And I know it was stupid to sleep in those ruins, where more bandits could have shown up, or even worse things from the tombs. I don’t really have an excuse for that either, except that I was just so tired. I was probably safer inside the ruins than out in the open where I could have been eaten by a bear. Besides, nothing horrible happened.

I’m a fairly new adventurer, but I’m going to have to get used to all this fighting and sleeping in dungeons and stuff, diary. There’s really no way around it.

It’s like I have my own Sphere Recorder Bob to take photos of my adventures now!

It’s like I have my own Sphere Recorder Bob to take photos of my adventures now!

I trekked back to the Imperial City to sell the stuff I had collected. Naturally, it was raining again. There’s nothing like running around in soggy fur and leather armor. I’m sure Squally would know all about the perils of that particular material combination. I had the bandits to thank for the fur helmet, gauntlets, and greaves. I know, I’m really fearsome. But at least my head is protected now.

I sold my stuff to Jensine, just because I wanted more money from her. I may have been able to haggle a better price elsewhere, but honestly, I just wasn’t in the mood to visit every store in the vicinity and compare prices. Even so, just selling the poor quality weapons and armor I found in the ruins earned me much more than 100 Gold. Suck it, Jensine.

After another back-and-forth journey from the ruins to the Imperial City to sell merchandise I couldn’t carry the first time around, I realized I didn’t feel like doing that a third time. No, it was time for me to face my fears and just explore the damn tombs already. Surely there must be a valuable treasure lurking down there. That’s the way it always goes, right?

Well, the tombs were not all that creepy. Not at first, anyway. I mean, they were creepy, but not in the “rotting zombies humping my head” kind of way. I kept expecting something to jump out at me, but nothing did. There was only some dumbass furry bandit skulking about. A single fireball took care of him. Not scary.


Posted by Jeanne at 13:06


Bandits, bards, and blind fortune tellers piss me off.

Dear Diary,

Well, it’s been quite a while since my last entry — ten years, to be precise. Oops!  I guess I just got sidetracked, or spent a whole lot of time procrastinating.  Not that a descendant of the fabled recappers would ever do such a thing, you understand.

The strange thing is, I don’t actually remember anything that happened during that time — it’s all a black blur.  Almost like I never experienced the entire decade at all!  Weird, huh?  Anyway, today was apparently my birthday, and as soon as I awoke in the…uh…”cozy” caravan the gypsies had been so kind to provide me, Theresa told me to come visit her on the wooden bridge overlooking the camp.  With my trusty pooch (who I’d affectionately nicknamed “Fucker”) at my side, I made my way through the camp and met with Theresa, who hadn’t changed her clothes in the ten years since we’d first met.  Those robes must have things living in them by now. 

Theresa told me that the day had finally come for me to set out on my quest of vengeance.  She also advised me to check out the chest in front of my caravan, into which she’d deposited a few items that “might prove useful”. These so-called “useful items” turned out to be a rusty sword and crossbow, a placebo health potion (no, really, it actually had “placebo” written on it!!) and a spade.  Thanks, Theresa!  I may not be able to cut off Lucien’s head with the rusty sword, but I can probably infect him with tetanus instead!

The final gift Theresa had for me was a mysterious emblem she called the Guild Seal.  She said all the Heroes used to carry them, like that’s of any use to me.  Maybe they’re the heroic equivalent of a member’s card?  She also said something about being able to speak to me through it.  Oh hell no, I felt like telling her.  Sure, I don’t mind you getting in touch to tell me how to solve a difficult puzzle or to tip me off about a hidden item somewhere, but I seriously DO NOT want your ancient voice chiming in to nag me about something when I’m at a critical moment with some hot young adventurer I met on the road. Still, it could be worse — I could have an annoying fairy flying around my head and pointing out the blindingly-obvious, for instance.  How irritating would that be?


Posted by Ben at 17:34

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