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  2. @ticklefarte I've already experienced the pain of gacha games. This is nothing.
  3. Post is up! It is now @Mickey Flash's turn! For those posting this turn: Please, do as you see fit! Have some fun with it, explore a little and ad-lib a little about the library, the group, the guards, whatever you like! If you make it down to the bottom floor, write about it as you see fit in order to suit your narrative. Have some fun with this round of posts.
  4. M'yr travelled slowly, trying to focus on the task at hand by directing his nervous energy towards his feet. He recalled, somewhere, that by shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet, he could move quietly and quickly. The acolyte shifted his weight onto one foot, set it down slowly, then shifted to the other, over and over again, eyes trained ahead. Next to him, the shelves seemed to lean forward, as if they were also holding their breath for his sake. These tense moments, where he was between cover, ended shortly, and M'yr found himself near one wing of the horseshoe. He exhaled. Slowly. Okay, this isn't so hard. He thought to himself. Each end of the horseshoe ended in a series of long aisles of bookcases. In total, there were about 5 aisles, with a break halfway through each aisle where there were no bookshelves, before they began again. M'yr didn't see the guard from where he was, nor could he hear him yet. Was the guard on the far end of the aisles? He peered down the closest one. The lines of books stretched on for a while, and from here he couldn't even see the break in the shelves, and they appeared to go on forever. Here and there were a few oddities, a stray book cart, a pile of dusty tomes, or some strange shipwreck that had followed M'yr up here from the twisted, inky seas they'd travelled to get here. M'yr had to suppress the urge to vomit as he saw the wreckage, heard her creaking and shifting on the water, smelled the brine off it from here. It clearly wasn't there, but it felt like it was, felt like he was being haunted by the sea. Why was the Widow so reluctant to let him leave in one piece? Why did he agree to come here, again? M'yr reached up, and pulled away the bandana, sucking up heaps of air, so quickly that he began to hiccup, his face wet with tears. This was getting too hard for him. He needed to, had to grab the mask. He reached for it. There it was, on the bookshelf before him. He only needed to put it on. M'yr turned the mask around in his hands, noting how shapely and smooth it felt, how familiar this visage felt. It was just so right to put it back on. He stopped dead. In the aisle next to this one, he could hear somebody walking. Slowly. They were listening for his...his what? Breathing? Hiccups? Crying? M'yr crept forward, and ducked behind a cart, out of sight. The guard turned the aisle slowly, checking for the disturbance. On his way back up the aisle, he'd sworn he'd heard...something. Like heavy, laboured breathing, as if someone were going to be sick. Yet, when he turned the corner, there was noone in sight. The guard lingered there, looking down the aisle. It loomed on and on forever, and if he stared through it, it almost made the room seem longer. It was weird; he knew about the optical illusion, but never got used to it. Yet, there wasn't anyone here. At least, nobody he could see. A thought crossed his mind, and he stifled a smile at the thought. This old place, with all it's strange books and tomes. It couldn't be haunted, right? There were stranger things that had happened, certainly. It wouldn't be out of the question for some ghosts to show up one night. If they did, that'd make for an interesting shift, at least. He turned, and stepped on something that wasn't the carpeting that ran between the aisles. It was...round, and...wet? He glanced down. "What the hell is...?" He murmured before kneeling to investigate. On the ground was a mask of...some kind. He couldn't really tell what it was meant to be, but it had a strange, almost nostalgic design to it. Barnacles clung to its face, and the entirety of it seemed to be wet. It smelled of the sea, but was also...warm to the touch? He turned it over slowly, examining the work. Crunch! The guard collapsed in a heap, still clutching M'yr's mask. M'yr exhaled shakily, holding the heavy tome aloft. When the guard had gone for the mask, he'd slipped from his place, and finding a lack of things to wield, grabbed the closest, thickest book he could. Then he'd approached, and slammed it into the back of the man's head, knocking his face into the wooden boards with a thud. He stared at the motionless figure for a second, horrified, before setting the book down. He hadn't meant to hit the man so hard that he'd died. The plan wasn't to get anyone killed, to hurt anybody, but he'd struck the man down! How did he proceed from here? Was there even a good strategy for dealing with this? He turned around, considering whether or not he could turn himself in. The man groaned, and slowly pushed himself off the ground. "Ach...my head." He said softly. He didn't have much time to talk, however, because M'yr had immediately gone for the book again, and struck him down once more. Again. And Again. And Again. This time, the guard stayed asleep, and when M'yr pulled away, he was a least a little less terrified, knowing that now he didn't have to worry about killing a man. It didn't seem like anyone had heard him, either. The body was an issue, though, lying there on the carpet. M'yr eyed the carpet dubiously, and a moment later, gave up on trying to do his job properly, and began rolling both the man, and the carpet up. Each time he flipped the man over, his head collided with the wooden flooring again with a soft thump and M'yr winced for him. After he was rolled up, arms pinned to his sides, M'yr deposited him between shelves, to make him a little harder to spot. He hoped that elsewhere, the others were having better luck. At the end of these shelves were a couple of staircases, one leading upwards into the other 'U' shape, and another leading into a path within the walls. This path wound downwards, and likely would spit him out on the ground floor. M'yr made his way down the stairs quietly, breathing slowly through his bandana, the mask clutched in his hands tightly. He hadn't been caught yet, and that was good.
  5. Gambling is bad, kids. In fact, you should all withdraw your entries to avoid crippling addiction. I'll take one for the team.
  6. ticklefarte

    [GS] Taurus

    Omar tore his eyes from Addison's light, and stared at Azelhart, dumbfounded. What was he going on about? "Ah no, they don't shape shift. That is an interesting idea, however. I should look into it. What would I call them? Robots that transform..." Transformers? He frowned, perplexed, then shook his head. The girl was right, he supposed. Somehow the two had been able to generate enough force to pierce a god. It was impressive, but he had to wonder at whether it could be replicated. "A bigger projectile would be harder to shoot, correct? And the question of how to find a suitable weapon is a good one. Nothing too heavy. Nothing too small." His hand flashed and he swore, whirling around to stare at the distant mayhem. Taurus was reacting, and things weren't going well for his automata. Omar's eyes shifted from their green to match the violet of his summoning rune. He blinked rapidly, murmuring to himself. Treet was out of commission. Beet was slowing down due to the heat. Red... by the gods Red was flying. Omar held his breath, watching as the god seized the automaton and hurled it away as if it were trash. He looked down, trying to guess the trajectory. Shit. "Those bikers," he said suddenly. "Who are they?" I can't save them from here. It was a sight to behold. The sheer power Taurus could display with a casual throw. Red tore through the air like a meteor, curling in on itself to minimize the damage of the impact. Its body was deformed from the contact with Taurus, even more so at nearly being crushed in the god's hand. Surviving this would be unlikely. You tried, Omar thought, swallowing hard. I'll bring you back, okay? By some stroke of luck the man driving the motorcycle avoided Red. This didn't mean a thing. Omar flinched as the automaton crashed into the ground, letting out a panicked roar that was abruptly cut off as it died. The collision resulted in a bright violet explosion and yet another branch in Omar's network falling dead. He sighed and blinked slowly, thinking. No time to worry on regrets. He could see through the remaining automata's eyes. Specifically, Heriel. Omar grit his teeth and closed his eyes. "chzz. Hello Taurus. chzz." Heriel spoke with Omar's voice. "Aye, you're a tricky one. I have tricks too. chzz." A large hand made reached toward the machine, prompting Omar to have it relent on the attack and head toward the god's bicep. He turned his attention to Beet and supplied his newest Command. Join Heriel. As Beet completed another revolution around the god's feet, it instantly swung its whips upward to lash at Taurus' arm. Heriel seized them in its hands and pulled, hard, before leaping off the other side to use Beet as a counterweight. Where one automata fell, the other went up. Omar let out a victorious shout as Beet ascended to the god's arm, but his face fell soon after. It was that damn heat. The machines were falling apart. As Heriel fell, the strain on Beet's limb was too much and they tore in two, leaving Heriel to free fall. The automata both fell fast, but Heriel's controlled descent had placed it close to Taurus' waist, and onto the sinuous blue threads of the mage. They cushioned his fall, and Omar felt an immediate drain on his own power upon contact. Taurus struggled against the constraints, even tore some, but the god was still bound. He hoped they could take the extra weight. Heriel seized the threads and began to work its way up. A grand wound on the god's chest swung into view as the automaton climbed. Ichor flowed freely, but the cut was shallow. Near that, a spear, and around all of it, a wild storm. What to do? Heriel, avoid the spear. Go to the wound. Make it worse. He didn't recognize the nature of the spear, but it was unlikely to mix well with his machine. As Heriel worked its way toward the chest wound, it would use the threads as ladders. Each one sapped Omar of his energy. It couldn't be avoided, but he was hesitant to use more. When the temperature declined, the automaton was at the injured area, struggling against the winds that had been generated here. It would plunge a massive fist into the bleeding cut, striving to go deeper despite the internal heat of the god. Over and over, relentless. Omar blinked and returned to his own eyes, adjusting his glasses as he processed what Lexa had said. "You're right," he murmured, turning away. With a whistle he sent Portis toward the site of the crash before falling to his knees, exhausted. "Red, may it rest in peace, was equipped with a diamond tipped drill. The diamond itself isn't very large. Maybe the size of my fist, and that would be before the crash. Still, it's a precious stone. It should survive the heat, especially with the new conditions." It took a few moments for the retrieval. Omar closed his eyes, trying to control his heart rate. Eventually, Portis returned with Red's skeleton. It was mangled, malformed from Taurus' grip, but drill at the head seemed intact. "Lucky us..." The dragonfly deposited the skeleton with a clang and hovered. "Azelhart, do your thing. If we can get some kind of spear going I can have Portis take Lexa up there. I don't think I'll be joining this excursion. My automata need me to focus."
  7. Welcome to Valucre!

  8. First post is up, and both of you have been tagged. Head on in there and introduce yourselves when you can! Once both posts are up, I'll provide an OOC space to talk, ask questions and plan future posts. Till then, you can reach me here if you have concerns!
  9. The wheels squeaked, creaking and clacking. The groans of protest from the wagon echoed down the cavern halls in both directions. As he pushed it along, Scrap only had one thing on his mind as the object before him bounced along. He really, really hoped that Meddle was steering them away from walls and holes. "Are we outside yet?" He squawked in protest, his shrill tones drifting down the halls. "Not yet. I'm just trying to...get us around this...rock." Meddle replied slowly, thoughtfully. The side of the wagon screeched as it scraped against a stalagmite, causing both kobolds to wince. They froze in place, covering their ears, awaiting the inevitable explosion. However, despite it's name, the Great Exploder did not explode. Yet. Scrap's arms dropped in relief, and he gave the wagon a nudge away from the rocky outcropping. Meddle looked over the burlap-covered weapon, then pulled away again. "Looks good?" He asked. "Looks good!" She said, chipper as if nothing had happened. Scrap and Meddle moved the wagon, and the Exploder outside of the cave eventually, pushing through the heavy wooden doors that hid the cave, and into the sunlight. Immediately, both of them winced, and let go of the wagon, but it thankfully didn't roll anywhere. The duo were tasked with a job a bit more unorthodox than they were typically entrusted with. Scrap, being more of the smithing type, preferred to make things with his hand, and would have rather been in the workshop watching Wijit do her thing. Instead, he was out here, with Meddle, who preferred to dig and mess around in the mines with the other miners. Instead, they were moving Wijit's latest, greatest, perhaps most explody-est invention yet. The invention, currently covered in a large burlap tarp, was gingerly moved from the little wagon into the bigger covered wagon they'd left out here, with the help of one of the scouts that had to hang out in the trenches outside. It didn't explode--thankfully--and once it was loaded up both Scrap and Meddle found themselves at a loss for action. Sort of. Scrap climbed onto the wagon, and sat down. He kicked his legs idly, and checked his belongings. Broadsword: Check. Bits of plate mail, fastened to his body with leather straps: Check. He glanced behind him, and peered inside of the covered wagon. Big, explosive weapon, stored in an unsteady, rickety wagon: Check. "What are we doing, again?" He wanted to ask, but before he could, Meddle hushed him, waving her hands at him to quiet him down. "Shh!" She hissed, peering out down the road from the top of their wagon. "I hear something coming!" The road up to the kobold's lair, the Infinite Magmaworks, wasn't easy to find, necessarily. Due North from Vdara, just before the mountain range began, the mouth of their cave was tucked away up a hill surrounded by dense trees. Travelling up the path to visit the cave was difficult to do quietly, with little chimes and crafts made from bird bones, dangling from many branches along the path. Unseen to most visitors, a long, winding trench snaked down from the mouth of the cave down the path, and was hidden by dense undergrowth and partially buried in dirt. Somewhere, in one of the taller trees, another kobold was always watching from safety. None of them moved as they watched a pocketful of newcomers come up the road, towards the Magmaworks. @ReachForStars @Silent Sword
  10. Today
  11. Va Madar Geography/Geology: Va Madar is roughly 50 miles (80?km) across [@Ataraxy @Aleksei yes? no? I can't find a scale on any of the maps that does me any good so I'm guessing based on Nehalen being half the size of Renovatio proper] at its widest point. Natural features separate the main body of the island from a smaller outcrop on the far west end. Geology: The north edge of the island is dominated by tall mountains, the tallest of which approaches 3.5 miles (5.6 kilometers) high; the average height is over 2 miles (3.2km). These mountains are steep and rocky, composed primarily of igneous extrusions. Don't ask me to describe geologic forces like subduction when it comes to floating islands. They're just there, alright? South of the nearly-sheer cliffs that make up the mountain range are the highlands, a high-altitude jungle that averages about 1 mile (1.6km) above the lowest point on the island. Many small tributaries pass through this area that ultimately combine into bigger rivers at lower altitudes. The rock is mostly igneous with pockets of sedementary; this can create bowl-like structures that become highland marshes where the surface water has eroded the softer rock away and been bottlenecked by the harder rock. These marshes typically recede or disappear entirely in the dry season. The altitude continues to drop as you go south into the jungle proper; the southernmost edge of the island is called "the flatlands". This is an area made up almost entirely of swamps and marshes as the big rivers deposit their sediment and become braided before falling off the edge of the island. Very few people live here, as the shifting, silty soil does not support large trees to use for building materials. The people who choose to call the flatlands home are largely mocked by the other populations as less intelligent and atypically aggressive. Cobbling something together to make it work in a temporary, slipshod fashion is called "flatlandering" it. Mineralogy: Salt and quartz are common throughout the island, even on the surface, as are precious metals like gold and silver. Mines for gold and silver are typically very shallow, little more than trenches in already low areas, and the rivers can be easily panned. Iron is also common. Hydrology: The snow melt from the tall mountains eventually turns into a small number of reasonably-sized rivers. The biggest is the Ayota'el ("Brown Water Moving") which empties into a large lake, Kelta Eldur ("Clear Still Water") towards the western end of the main portion of the island. The lake was most likely formed out of an ancient volcanic caldera; it is roughly 10 miles (16km) wide at its widest point and potentially as deep as 900ft (274m) in the center, although this has never been officially charted. The river leaves the lake at the southernmost point and continues towards the flatlands. One other significant river, the Madarviel ("Great Mother's Spirit"), passes through the center of Pa Valdar, the largest settlement on the island. Most of the other river systems are as yet unsurveyed and unnamed except by the locals, and different locals frequently call the same river by different names. Vulcanology: The island, like the rest of Nehalen, is very geologically active. Many of the mountains are volcanic. Hot springs, sulfur springs, and geysers dot the jungle.
  12. Okay, I posted. Sorry for the wait everyone!
  13. Never before had Rysorian been forced to travel with such an unseemly lot. There were demons from the village, human mercenaries and assassins – even a living statue and the portly dragon had come to search for the Queen. Rysorian assumed the only thing they all had in common, save for Skacharm himself, was their greed. The sum promised was hefty, and if there was one thing that motivated anyone and everyone, it was the sin of avarice. Rysorian rolled his eyes as the search party stopped for the night. They were likely wasting precious time, but what could be done? He might be the only one who could see in the dark. Their lack of ability to see in shadows could not be held against them… … but he held it against them anyway. Rysorian’s belongings were sparse. He had his weapons, a backpack of hard rations, some medicine, a few other baubles, and a wool blanket. He had no bedroll, did not need or desire one. He found a suitable stump close to the fire and claimed it for himself. No tiredness or exhaustion from the day’s journey showed in his angry eyes or stiff posture as he dug into his backpack, pulling out some dried meat and cheese. Staring into the fire’s blazing heart, he bit into the meager meal in a nearly bestial manner. He offered no conversation, no greeting and no smile for any of those around him. Even the few who accidentally made eye contact with him were given only a harsh scowl. Even Skacharm, who was near enough to converse with, was ignored. Rysorian wasn’t here for friends, much less any concern for the idiot Queen who managed to get herself lost or captured. He was here only for himself, and to hell with the rest.
  14. Addison would be met with a new experience, as she wasn't fighting the standard variety of technologically enhanced avian mammal. The first few fireballs had taken out much up the bat swarm, but the few that were left had quickly learned to avoid them. What's more, their chirping told Lexa that they weren't just using echolocation, they were communicating. The bats broke off from each other, each of the four remaining moving to different areas of the room. From here, Addison would find the bats harder to hit still, since they were actively paying attention to her while performing aerial maneuvers with the clear intention of avoiding her attacks. Lexa took advantage of their distraction. She pointed her dagger at one of them and shot a bolt of electricity from it. The bat she hit managed to absorb some of it, but it lacked the capacity to absorb even a tenth of Lexa's basic output. The bat fell from the sky like a dead fighter plane, smoking and ungracefully rolling till it smacked into the floor. The three remaining bats had learned from their fallen comrade. Lexa's next bolt was dodged by her target, and the three began targeting Addison from three different sides. If she shot an attack at them, again, they would attempted a dodge.
  15. First ever personally drawn avatar




    This guy was supposed to be Dauner, but against better judgment, i decided not

    On a plus, my drawing skills are getting better by the day. I think 5-8 years should be enough time for me to start drawing my very own manga

  16. Rolling to see if Red is completely totaled. D20 higher than 16 means he survives.
  17. I’d be down to join!
  18. Va Madar Climate: The majority of Va Madar is a tropical rainforest, characterized by high rainfall. There are two distinct seasons: a wet "winter" and a relatively dry "summer". Weather: In the wet winter season, the south-westerly winds from Nehalen push the clouds up against the high mountains that line the northern edge of the island, forcing them to dump their moisture content as rain in order to rise above them and continue on; rain is an every night and almost every day event. In the "dry" summer season, the winds shift and come more from the west, but rain showers are still roughly a twice-weekly occurrence. Temperatures: Lowlands and Flatlands: In the lowlands, The temperatures during the summer climb into just above 90F (32C) with an average of about 75% humidity. Nighttime summer temperatures rarely go much below 75F (24C). In winter, the daytime high temperatures typically stay between 75-80F (24-26C) with nighttime temperatures rarely falling below 60F (15C). Highlands: In the higher-altitude portions of the jungle, the temperatures are much more variable. An 80F (26C) day can turn into a 55F (13C) night in just a few hours. Mountains: The tallest mountains, the ones lining the northern edge of the island, extend miles above the jungle; these rocky peaks are covered with snow on the windward side nearly year-round, and temperatures are often brutally cold, especially at night. Snow melt from these high places turns into rivers that feed the jungle below. The Night Winds: Every night just before sunset, regardless of the time of year, a stiff tradewind blows through the jungle from the west-south-west at a fairly consistent 15mph (24kmph). It lasts until just before sunrise. All the people who inhabit the jungle use these winds as their most important daily time-keeping indicator, as the sun and stars are usually obscured by the thick jungle canopy.
  19. I would like to join too, If I'm allowed of course
  20. From his spyglass, Cragmar could see something going on in the fortress, another battle that was taking place. "Stop firing! There's something going on over there." "Where did all the fire go?" Eric asked, looking over at the burned, but still intact wooden ramparts of the occupied fortress. "By the gods..." He said, looking up at the fiery figure looming at the very top of the fortress. Phillip's attention was brought to the figure after dispatching a bandit with his sword. "What in the hells is that?" ""Whatever it is, we'd best go back to base and see what Lancellar has to say about it." Eric said, sheathing his sword as the riders rode back, leaving a mess of dead bandits and horses in their wake.
  21. Hiii! May I join in? ^+^
  22. Hawk

    Custom title raffle 24

    Sure why not? What’s the harm in trying
  23. Va Madar Location: Va Madar is a big floating island on the edge of Nehalen, just north of Nu Damyria. (all the below will be replaced with links when ready) Climate Geography Tech/Magic-WIP Inhabitants-WIP The Valadar-WIP The Shadow Goblins-WIP The Mountain Goblins-WIP The Vendal-WIP Flora and Fauna (Bestiary) - WIP Quests-WIP
  24. Rexus looked around at the top of the fortress and growled. Flames were starting to catch fire on the wooden fortress and another volley of arrows were seen in the distance. "Billy! Arrows! Do your job!" Inhaling deeply, the heat from Rexus' armor soaked into his body and was then exhaled forcely, shredding all the arrows he could. The flames that were starting to catch around him and places he could see, he held his hands towards them to pull them into him, absorbing it into his armor. Billy grabbed onto the stone ground and started physically ripping it from the actual planet itself. Hoisting it over his head, he hurried over to his allies and began providing cover for them with makeshift barriers. However in making the barriers for his allies, it also provided protection for the bandits and any other enemies within. Jasmine hurried inside the fortress and the snake tattoo on her arm was fully extended out, biting into people's necks dripping venom in their body. Any person left straggling would have a small alchemical bead thrown onto their body and immediately started to melt from a poison. "Allie? Where are you?" Turning around the corner, she heard a door slam shut but no person. The snake on her arm, smelled the air and jerked its head to a window. The heavily clothed figure appeared, holding their gun.
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