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  1. 7 points
    Alright, the Grand Emperor felt like that was long enough. He listened to the crowd, to see if they were pumped up enough yet. "Kill them already!!!" "Make them bleed!!!" "Let's see some gore!!!" "Tear them apart!!!" "Entrails! Entrails! Entrails!!!" Yeah, they were pumped enough. "Alright! May the bloodshed begin!!!" After the go ahead was given, the announcer began to speak. "Aaaaalright everyone, let's hear it for our first combatants! Found roaming wild in the Underworld, half-starved and driven to a frenzy just moments before, you know em you love em, its the HEEELLHOUNDS!!!" After the introduction, the gates to the arena opened, and what appeared to be black Mastiffs stampeded out of them. And stampeded was the proper word, as these things were as big as grizzly bears. Their glowing red eyes sparked with near rabid fury, and they tore toward their chosen targets. They each picked one, except for a few. Three unlucky fighters ended p getting two to target them. Or rather, a few unlucky- oh whatever. The hounds closed the distance to the group with startling speed, and attacked viciously.
  2. 6 points
    Just as the group began to return to reality, reality started to melt. Colors blended together, the entire world swirled, and the fabric of reality began to unravel. Great, another bad drug trip, right? The group would slowly regain their senses, and find that they were definitely not in Yh'mi anymore. Or Kansas. In fact, no one seemed to know where they were. Except maybe one person. The floor they were standing/sitting/laying on was hard dirt. The walls were enormous, easily 50 feet high. The outer walls, as they could see if they looked up, were over 8 times that size. The area they were now trapped in was equally gigantic, nearly large enough for them to fit a town inside of it. All of this was minuscule, however, to the deafening sound of the crowd. The group would see that this place was packed. And every single one of them was screaming and cheering and calling for blood. Some of them had very detailed descriptions of what they wanted to happen, none of them were pleasant. After a few minutes of the cacophonous noise, it all ceased at once. Someone stepped forward in what was clearly the important person's area. He had the best view, and was positioned to where everyone could see him. Upon closer inspection, it would appear to be someone who was maybe 16 or 17. A boy, clearly. Black hair, and golden eyes, his body covered in shimmering gold armor. The group would see a large scythe beside him, the blade dual colored black and bronze. When the boy spoke, he spoke in a layered voice. One being that of a teenage boy, the other being cold and chilling. "Welcome, welcome all! Here today, in the Titanic Coliseum, we have for your viewing pleasure, our unwilling victims!" He gestured to the group, and the crowd erupted again, eager to see these people be torn to pieces. It was abundantly clear that they were not on their side at ALL. "In just a moment, we will release our first combatants! But first, a moment to allow these dead men standing to make peace with their gods!" The crowd went silent, allowing for the group to have a moment to gather themselves. This would not last long, however. Alright, my dear little test subjects. Here's how this world works. You, (and myself) will be pitted against waves and hordes of opponents. The combat rules are normal; roll for your actions, ect. However, there is more. You, and I, will have various conditions that must be met in each wave. For each person. If these conditions are not met, you will receive a penalty. Penalties include, but are not limited to: Health damage. Sanity damage. Decreased number of actions. Disability rolls. Furthermore, remember, you are putting on a show. If your posts fail to entertain the crowd, or the Supreme Emperor, you will receive a penalty. Attempting to climb the walls, attack the crowd, or attack the Emperor is strictly forbidden. Any attempts to do so will result in every penalty being brought down upon you, and you being ganked by every enemy currently in the arena at the same time. Teamwork is allowed, and recommended, as after this point, there will be no relief rounds. No breaks. Not until it is finished. "Ooh, Hollow, thats so cruel" Yes. Yes it is. However, in this one round, where we have a moment to contemplate our impending, unavoidable death, any action you take will succeed regardless of sanity levels. So heal up. Good luck and, try to make your gruesome demise entertaining, will you?
  3. 6 points
    Moon Owl

    The First Feast of Blades

    Amidst the crowds bustling with excitement for the upcoming opening ceremony, one white haired elf participant set out to traverse across the monumental bridge that stood to connect the Dawn Komturie to the rest of Predator’s Keep. Other than the strange glowing markings that cowered the majority of his skin, the slender and pale elf seemed fairly unremarkable compared to many others attendees that surrounded him. Larian did his best to not draw attention to himself, even though his appearance served to counteract his efforts. The structure was significant display of craftsmanship and architecture without a doubt, however the elf did not bask in the wondrous view that surrounded him as he walked. It was only when he approached two towering knights that his gaze was diverted from his destination and to their decorated and magnificent brass armor. He contemplated for a brief moment if his smaller frame would be able to house such hulking protection, but he would brush the subject away without giving it too much thought. It was not the time to distract himself with such thoughts and instead he would be wise to remain focused on the task at hand. For the elf had decided to enter the Feast of Blades for a singular purpose, one that should not be forgotten so easily. The anticipation for the ceremony was thing in the air surrounded the crowds. It was clear that many had traveled far to attend and surely expected a grand spectacle. Larian remained silent where he stood, patiently waiting and watching for the ceremony to commence.
  4. 6 points
    Auspicious Link

    Well Met, Valucre!

    Testing. . . Testing. . . 1, 2, 3, 4. . . . Greetings, fellow roleplayers/D&D fans/Um. . . (I dunno. You like Star Wars too? Fellow Jedi?) Anywho! Greetings, everybody! Auspicious Link (or just "Link") here, an aspiring writer ready to have some fun with this site! Y'see, over here in boring old Ohio, I don't really get to do much in the way of, erm, action. To combat this, I've been retreating to the roleplay world for around three/four years now. I know my stuff, rest assured! This site caught my eye a year back, but I was in a bit of a doozy then. It all seemed like too much for me to hop in and get started. However! I'm here now - and ready to do this thing! All I have to do is get a character sheet up. Soon. . . Soon! Then, it's all systems go. I just gotta get on that. Like, right now. I try to put more detail into those, so this might take a bit. In the meantime, feel free to reach out, new/veteran RPers alike! I'm eager to hear from you all. Maybe we could do a RP together, eh? (I gotta find that part of the site, advertising plots. I think I saw it earlier.) Check out my profile for more! (Y'know, like my Discord. Which I haven't inputted yet. Gah!)
  5. 5 points
    Lacernella Rubra

    Adopt, don't shop!

    Do you ever wonder if your life might be lacking that certain something? That spark that makes you want to jump for joy? LOOK NO FURTHER! Mother Gaia’s Home for Lost Souls is the place to be! We have children of all ages ready to add that spark back into your life! Each one of our children are unique and ready to be fit with the right home. Whether you need help in the kitchen, on the farm, or an apprentice, we have what you need. Come visit us in Dougton! List of available children: Blairville children: Peter – Age 12 – Blonde and amber eyed. He is a cautious, but brave young man who dislikes bullying. Lucy – Age 8 – Shy and slow to trust, a little bit bossy, as well. Lucy is definitely a kid who requires patience. Ruby – Age 6. Sweet and all too trusting, she’s got a sweet tooth like no other, however. Izral Children: Susan – Age 14 – An older, jaded girl who was rescued by Jericho from a brothel in Izral. She doesn’t have much hope for the world, but she’s learning that not everyone is bad. Brinley – Age 8 – Young and cheerful, she takes joy in simple things. Jessica – Age 6 – Another young and cheerful child. She likes butterflies and flowers, but we aren’t into the flavor red this week. William – age 4. – This young boy loves to run in mud puddles and play with worms, as young boys tend to do. Caitlyn – Age 2 – Often influenced by William regarding bugs and mud. She particularly dislikes nap-time. Derrick – Age 10 – Idolizes Peter and wants to protect the others from ever being treated poorly again. He’s often defensive on first meetings. Jonathan – Age 1 – Babbles with attitude. Hates diapers. Andromeda – Age 6 months – Sleeps a lot, when not screaming. Daniella – Age 10 – Sullen and moody, prone to dramatics. Kendra – Age 12 – Preteen. No more need be said. ** Please note there is a 30 day return policy.
  6. 5 points
    GROUP 1 The towering monster watched soullessly as the Blackspears hurried away from it, its pitch black eyes following them out of the room. It then flicked it's dead gaze to Ed. in less than a second, it was upon him in one power leap. It's sawed hands came forward with horrifying speed to tear him to pieces, but this did not happen. The room shook with the force its blow generated against Ed's shadowy shield, causing the ground to crack and quake with a rumble. The Suffering stumbled back, nearly losing its balance from its failed strike. The mercenary had held his own once more, Ed's injuries not stopping him from holding his ground and protecting his team. The creature stared down at him as it ground its blades together. Was it frustrated? Or was it confused? Here was a man who was bleeding out from the inside, but he would not succumb to his own injuries. He would not allow his own suffering to be the focus of his life. He merely held his own, seemingly unafraid despite knowing he wouldn't be able to keep further pain at bay for much longer. It's body twitched and shook as it began to grinds its blades together faster and with more force. It then raised its arms to bring them down on Ed once more, this time intending to end his life with one last, powerful blow. Its bladed, glowing-hot, arms came down on him with all the force they could muster. Ed would feel nothing hit him. Right before the blades could make contact, they and the rest of the monster's body transfigured into a cloud of black smoke. It wafted passed Ed harmlessly, leaving nothing where the creature once stood. "You're like a super hero!" came the omniscient, ghostly voice of a little girl that he could not see. It echoed off the recesses of his mind. As if it were a memory not his own. "You NEVER give up fighting the bad guys no matter what happens to you! Yay! Yay, Charlie!" The voice, although unfamiliar to him would seem to clear his senses and refresh his mind and body. The unbearable heat that had been practically roasting him alive was now gone. He felt a sensation like a cold, fluid coursing through his veins as his injuries were rectified and healed. In the other room to the south, the Norkotian mercenaries seemed as though they about to fall to the nightmare. But then, with such vigor that it seemed as though he were glowing, Leo struck a pose and flexed his meticulously toned muscles so hard that his vest shredded from underneath. His flexing was so awe-inspiring that it even caught the attention of the ghouls right as they were about to deliver the finishing blows. They slowly turned their heads to gaze upon the wonder at the entrance of the room, some of them even shielding their eyes from the glory. Leo's mighty flexing reinvigorated the Squaad and filled them with a burning fighting spirit. They weren't done yet. Not holding back at at Scoots pointless command, they lashed out at the surrounding ghouls with everything they had. Bullets perforated them one after another. Blades sliced them apart. Clubs and fists bludgeoned them furiously until they moved no more. By the end of the assault, all threats in the room had been eliminated. The odds had been stacked against them, but thanks to Ed and Leo's support, they'd come out victorious. Well...except Grunt. @Akiris @Thotification @Tyler @Veloci-Rapture GROUP 2 Kingston and Selene having suddenly vanished, only Cynthia, Gormaric, and the subversors remained to fend off the advancing Decay and the armed ghouls ahead of them. Through the aid of his magical sword and his winged companion, Gormaric was able counter the undead ghouls strike and kill it in the process. That only left the other one ahead of them, which Fred had beckoned forth. It rushed towards him and his subversors with a ferocious roar. But before it could reach him, the mass of blackness behind them all suddenly rushed forward as if it were a mighty gust of wind. Ashes and blackness assaulted them, threatening to take them off their feet and whisk them away. As it did, they felt their minds burning. Aching, as if something were trying to force its way inside. Their bodies would shake as the ashes would begin to cover their bodies, seeking to dominate their minds. The area around them would be shrouded in darkness, not allowing them to see anything. They could strike with their magic or their weapons, but it would literally be like they were attacking a sinister gale of thick blackness. As their minds began to be pulled into the void, they would feel the unnerving sensation of figures watching them from somewhere in the dark. "You will BURN." came the voice of a woman Hyacinth would recognize. Hyacinth, Gormaric, Fred and his men would suddenly come to in a small circle of light. Everything outside of it would be dark, as if the space outside the circle were simply empty. The silence of it was palpable, but it was a hungry emptiness. Shadowy, ashen figures would begin to emerge from the darkness. As they stepped into the light, the ashes that veiled them would begin to burn away. They were people, but all of their eyes were black and lifeless. They'd recognize none of them, but the burned rags they were dressed in would give them the impression that they were villagers. The pitchforks, shovels, cleavers and swords they were brandishing would also help to cement the look. They all stood around the defenders at the edge of the circle, surrounding them as they readied their weapons. There seemed to be over a hundred of them, some of them not even looking a day older than ten. Despite this, their faces were dead set and determined. Not afraid of death, only accepting it. Embracing it. They charged. @vielle @EpicRome23 GROUP 3 Vlad, Middy, and Challara would seem to be the only ones who still had the nerve to react despite their situation. The flames that jutted from the floor of the room they'd just exited would obscure their view of the Hensch Men and Sheryl. Whether or not they were dead or dying, they could not know. Nor would they have time to contemplate it. With speed far too great to be seen with the naked eye, the tendril that had been in the room with them slung forward and grabbed Challara by the legs. It then pulled hard, causing her to fall onto her back. No matter how much she'd shoot at it or slash at it, the blood-red tendril would not release her. It then began to pull her across the floor. The floor that was suddenly beginning to slope downwards. Vlad and Middy would find it difficult to keep their footing as the room seemed to tilt in the direction the tendril had come from with a massive groan. It also began to change. The walls faded into darkness and the blood covering the floor started to stream down the slope, making it impossible to keep them from sliding down. The blood was thicker now, as if having the same viscosity of mud. A sinister, red light could be seen at the bottom of the slope as they slid, Challara being pulled towards it by the tendril just ahead of them. If he or Middy didn't do something, she'd be taken to the light at the bottom and likely never be seen again. Or one might certainly think. Sickly blobs rose from the slope as they descended without letup, some of them lashing out with smaller tendrils to bind and drag them into into the slope of thick, cascading, blood. Even worse, they could spot some of the burning undead on the slope ahead of them, ready to slice them apart with the blades they wielded. Whether or not they'd dodge them or save Challara...was up to the three of them. And perhaps Noah, if he were to come to. @P.N.See @notmuch_23 @Thotification @ChaosLord @Fierach Okay! This is but a mere flavor post! That means no game rules apply! (Except you, @Akiris ?) I'm mainly writing this to end the nightmare and give you guys a chance to post your reactions before I pull you all out of it. Have fun!
  7. 4 points
    Just as a heads up, I most likely won't be posting until this weekend. Additionally, my posting will probably be limited to just weekends for the next few weeks. I appreciate everyone's patience.
  8. 4 points
    The Courier

    A Winter Stroll | Valjier Town

    Valjier was a frozen wasteland. The only things that could thrive were the insects living inside the dead trees and the trees that were slowly dying. And of course the snow mongrels which prowled about in the dead woods, and the pockets of civilisation. Even in such dread circumstances, life seemed to find a way regardless. Aelene had come for the payout and the experience. Money was money, and she quite frankly enjoyed the unpredictability of adventure. Moreover, the nature of this journey was that it allowed plenty of time for her to rest and meditate while the convoy was not under threat. She came equipped with a small satchel containing her wand and various pieces of reading material. Over a layer of tightly woven woolen robes that plastered her skin like bandages, she wore a heavy knee-length snow coat and a full-face snow mask to shield her from the blistering cold. As the various townsfolk were preparing to set off on their journey, she approached the main storage carriage. Peeking inside, she found several rows of peoples’ personal belongings compressed in luggages and boxes. Climbing inside, she weaved between the various items and found the ladder to the roof. With gloved hands wrapped tightly around the cold steel rungs, she climbed up to the top of the carriage. The higher ground gave her a greater view of the entire caravan, something which would come in handy for surveillance. Settling onto a comfortable flat portion of the roof, she crossed her legs and sat, putting her satchel down by her side. She began to meditate. For now, all was at peace in the world around her. She knew with relative certainty that it wouldn’t last, but she relished every second of it nonetheless.
  9. 4 points
    Whenever I get a free block of time I’m bringing the site down for a backup and to try and shrink the overall database size through something of a touchy operation. Let’s see how it goes
  10. 4 points
    Vlad would swear he hadn't even seen Ilene move before she was suddenly right in front of him, the tip of her dark, wicked curved blade pressed lightly against his throat. She lifted her mask-helm with her free hand just enough to reveal an, eerie, knowing grin... one that screamed that Vlad really should have kept his mouth shut here, or chosen his words more carefully. "You know exactly what I mean by a spectacle. You stab a man and he falls over and bleeds out on the ground, he's dead but it ain't exciting. Add spins and the like to your blows, maybe take the arms or legs off before you get a nice thrust that pins 'em to the sand below and snuffs out their miserable life?" A small laugh escaped for a moment. "Now that's a spectacle. As for hell, one is either forged in the infernal flames or consumed by them. If you're a weak little bastard and your mind can't handle the demons and the heat even after the fact, well, cannon fodder can always be worked into the strategy." Her blade pressed ever so slightly forward, drawing a drop of blood from Vlad. "As for where I've been, I wouldn't say being stuck on a relatively small plateau with a ton of people and a war elephant is any fun. Especially when the only exit was a shitty rope bridge that lead straight into a plateau full of harpies ready and willing to tear all of us to shreds. We only escaped by acquiescing to their demands of sending three people to be their mates and leaving everyone else stuck on the first plateau in order to let a handful of people through a very out-of-place door. I was among the group that went through the door. It showed us an image of the camp, and brought us back there for a moment before indulging in cruelty and bringing us here." "And what you're entitled to is drowning yourself in the delusion that you're leaving this arena the same as you came in. You leave only with a pile of corpses in your wake, or as a corpse yourself. You see Goldy Boy up there? I can tell from here he's an arrogant little shit, but I can also tell that he's got power. Fail to amuse him or the crowd, and I bet he'll ruin your day. He'll hurt you, he'll weaken you, he'll control every damn enemy we're facing to pile onto you, and most certainly kill you if the others don't intervene." She turned her gaze up towards the aforementioned boy and the crowd, lowering her blade from Vlad's throat. "I've been through the likes of this before. Not exactly the same, mind, but these places hit all the same beats. I know enough of what to expect, though Neque knows I would much rather be anywhere else. Hell, I'd take my chances in that 'literal hell' you said you went through. But anyways, follow my lead, and you might just survive. You'll be scarred, bloody, and changed, but alive." (Flavor post)
  11. 4 points
    Csl

    Ursa Madeum OOC

    Some Updates I've written the draft for an article outlining some RP guidelines for Ursa Madeum. You can read the unedited file here. The important bits include: In relation to the above, Senaria, which is an extension of the Hyperion Empire (owned by @Malintzin) will be moving out of Ursa Madeum. Port Moon, which was constructed by the Nehalen government (owned by @Aleksei) will also no longer be located in Ursa Madeum. Also we've got a new Port Mars article, courtesy of Wade:
  12. 4 points
    danzilla3

    It's kind of like a heist

    Imma send the governor... because our last sherriff was killed and we haven't replaced him yet.
  13. 3 points
    "Just take what you want," Noah said plainly. The mugger scowled and snatched the purse from Aelene's arms; but did not move to leave after he did so. It seemed like the man wasn't sure what to do; perhaps not sure how to respond to someone who was plainly unafraid of him. Noah wasn't good at feigning emotion that he didn't feel, so pretending he was afraid of a man he could kill with no effort. Apparently this was something the criminal just couldn't tolerate. "I'll do whatever I want!" Words were followed up with a backhand across his face that barely registered to Noah, As for the mugger, it seemed to take him a moment before he noticed the pain shooting up his arm. Hissing out a string of expletives, the criminal looked at his victim with confusion. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed Aelene and yanked her forward. "Bitch, you're coming with me!" Noah stood silently as his companion was dragged away. He figured that if the woman wanted to be rid of the man that she was perfectly capable of dispatching him herself.
  14. 3 points
    @Thotification speak up if you’re joining with your 38482729 characters ?
  15. 3 points
    In over 300 years of living, this was perhaps the greatest challenge he'd ever faced. Prior to the progression of Quin's transformation to its later stages, he'd never considered how turning her would effect him. The occasional wave of phantom pains associated with more or less sharing a mind with the good Doctor. The more the transformation took, the more consistent their hive mind became. While enduring these random events throughout several hours, he still had the chateau to maintain; While still trying to more or less keep and actual eye on his room to be sure it remained undisturbed. Fortunately he'd been able to function without raising too much suspicion, though he paid himself mind to avoid direct contact with the likes of Martis, or even Ira. Several times had he wanted to enter his room to console her, to coddle her into her final sleep. Several times he denied himself and her by extension, the right. It was better for her to endure this venture alone, or at least seemingly so. Not that he knew that was best from experience outside of his own. The Master having played no part in assisting him until the transformation was complete. Perhaps it was some sort of right of passage. Survive this alone, survive with me for eternity. When the final sleep finally found her, the Majordomo sighed in relief despite not having the ability to actually breath. Adjusting his fine threads, the redhead suddenly made himself scarily available as he tread through the house; If only to take a gander at what the others around the house were up to. Regardless of his findings, Alistair had appropriately planned ahead for Quin's grand awakening. However, it suddenly became abundantly clear that she had found herself awake a couple hours earlier than he'd anticipated. That writhen grin found itself upon his face once more, his scarlet eyes darting to and fro rapidly as he maneuvered his way subtly back to his room. Ascending the awkward stairs beyond his door, the Elder found himself standing over Quin, whom had obviously taken to one of his shirts. His grin remained as he snickered, mostly to himself. His narrowed eyes settled on her, a gentle and unnecessary clearing of his throat came in the wake of their eyes making inevitable contact. "Good morning Doctor. After all you've been through, I trust you've slept well? I must admit, you woke up quite a bit sooner than I'd like to have guessed. Not that I'm complaining." @DarkHorse @Etched In Stone @HumanBean03 @Eternity @Greenmntman
  16. 3 points
    Both Obtenebra and Ilyana were angered at the mere mention of Raphael now but for different reasons. Still, the fact that Ilyana was angered did not let her care to keep her ancient companion in check and it showed in the way that her dress lost its form and undulated with abandon. The fact she was so close to Gabriela would let the vampyre feel a rumbling behind her that cared little for where it rested on her form, the dichotomy of both cold and hot temperatures pressing forward until she finished expressing her fear. That fear, thankfully, served to quell much of the physical activity of what was obviously not her attire as she began to remember when she too knew nothing but fear. When despair clinched on to her and began slowly suffocating all hope. Where this carnal vessel suffered from her weakness and her inability to overcome the fear others had nurtured in her being. The memories angered her more than anything nowadays which did not sit well with Obtenebra which sought to regulate, to protect, and to preserve its investment. Anger never benefited its primary host and it would not help the orc or this woman either. Ilyana cared little for the fact that her proximity now could be interpreted as intimate, the words spoken by the Black Queen reeling her in and drowning her in her own empathy for the woman’s current plight. The golden eyed beauty was no friend to her but she still felt this engrained need to treat her like one now. The whisper that slipped from Gabriela’s mouth had trouble reaching Ilyana’s ears over the thumping noise of the club. She silently wished she could move them to a more private venue or arrange some sort of closed access but she refrained from suggesting anything in favor of trying to pick out the soft words that escaped the queen’s ears. She managed to hear most of it but did not let any visible reaction manifest along her face. Instead, she let Rodan initiate his offer, narrowed eyes scrutinizing the Mutator and making sure it was known that she was analyzing the man. Triumvir or not, she was not going to let the woman beside her enter into an agreement of ill benefit. Rodan’s proposal was acceptable enough for Ilyana to stifle any sort of objection or counter on Gabriela’s behalf. Whether the queen liked it or not, she decided to appoint herself as an appraiser who would determine if the queen should deign entering into an agreement with a man who had wronged her once already. She spoke up, most of her words directed at Rodan at first. “Your freedom in exchange for giving her some semblance of freedom with the risk of incurring even more wrath from a foreign emperor? Still, I find you have more to gain from this than she does. A woman’s body once surrendered to another is most vulnerable. Someone needs to be present to ensure both sides hold up their end of the bargain. Normally I would suggest someone that holds no bias but if both parties agree then I offer myself up to be present and make sure that both of you get what you want. All I ask is that after this is over, you give me a moment of your time to ask something of you Gabriela.” She made sure to now come to a stand now, placing herself close to both of them and in a position equidistant to them as well. This wasn’t the best pitch she has ever made but hopefully it would do for now.
  17. 3 points
    Shields are permitted. They count as a weapon. You can bring 1 to 3 weapons with you. As for the ordinary part, I figure its pretty self explanatory, maybe gimme an example of what you have in mind otherwise?
  18. 3 points
    You can go for killing blows if you like. If the other character can't stop them, they will be taken out of the fight by expertly trained mages, healers, and medics on standby who will do their best to ensure that no heads or anything vital of that sort are lost.
  19. 3 points
    Torie sighed with relief. “I thought you’d left me for a bit. Maybe next time, you… someone should stay with me…” she said, then got off her belly and started waddling towards the door where she had seen Aaric. Torie turned about to face Priscilla, not taking much interest in the box. “There’s definitely salamanders down there. Lots of them too, which would be good, if it wouldn’t make them all so hard to beat. And there’s something else…” Torie huffed in frustration, ears and tail flicking. She made a study of her companions' feet as she waited for another chance to speak.
  20. 3 points
    Ilene had been fully ready to give the order to fire, to fire the deadly opening barrage at the harpies and give the others the time needed to cross the bridge. But as she opened her mouth to shout, the door seemed to pull her and her Aligorian troops forward. Unable to muster more than an expression of surprise, she hardly resisted the door's pull. And soon, the thoughts of her and her men and her men alike were overridden with elation, with joy, overriding their logical plan of attack. They were closing in on the door. To escape! They were free, and the Shadow King would award them for their fine performances here... probably. On the other side of the door was a blurry image of the camp, and the Aligorians practically dived through it. For a minute, they seemed to have returned to the camp. Ilene began to lead her troops to the supply tent, intent on breaking out the booze. Then the camp began to fade, the tantalizing image dissappearing before their eyes. By the time the colors faded and the fabric of reality seemed to be stitched back together, Ilene was pissed. Her wicked, curved blade slashed through the air, nearly cleaving one of her allies in half before it came to a stop in the hard dirt below. Her composure began to unravel as she took everything in, and she began to laugh with a tinge of insanity creeping in and intensifying. The secret arena of the Frosts... before Teaville had become Aligoria. This was not that place, but it was enough of a reminder. The Yorks and the Cantus had been pitted against each other, and the last survivors would be spared to work for the Frost regime. Gladiators in all but name, and the females were given no special treatment but what they could win through their own strength. Ilene had only told the Shadow King himself of this part of her past, and he had responded like the great father and great king he was. Volke laid a firm and reassuring hand on Ilene's shoulder, and she shook herself back to reality after a minute. She looked around at the poor saps around her. The elephant and it's archers were still here, good. The turret had disappeared, bad. Fidelitas had also disappeared. More bad, but she guessed she was in 'charge' now, being the highest-ranking overall of those she could see in the group. She recognized some of the rest from the group on the plateau, but the rest were new to her. Maybe they had been at the camp as well, when this all started. She raised her voice, letting it wash over the group. "We seem to have lost Fidelitas. Unfortunate, the paladin was a decent leader for a diverse group like this. That said, I'm going to establish a semblance of order here, in his stead. You don't have to listen to me, though... that is, if you have a strong desire to play the hero and get ripped to shreds when you're surrounded by enemies." "So, the main gist here is to not die. If that was our only concern, I would have us form a defensive line in one of the arena corners, our toughest on the outside and all of us with ranged weapons behind them. But unfortunately, sound, logical, well-executed strategy doesn't generate excitement. Our lives depend on being entertaining, on getting the blood of the crowd and Goldy Boy there pumping. Therefore, each of us must play to their strengths. Stick together for teamwork and a general strategy, yes, but don't keep it practical and boring. Embrace some impracticality, make it awesome, make it a spectacle. We'll coordinate first for whatever they send at us, as it comes. Any questions?" As she finished speaking, Ilene slowly scanned the arena, seeing if she could catch sight of what was about to come and prepare. Her Shadow Guards stode forward and formed a defensive square around her, armbows loaded and at the ready. Meanwhile, on the platform atop Surus, the ten-man archer crew readied their bows and, similarly to Ilene, scanned the arena for incoming threats. 3-13 smiled enigmatically at the sight before him, and Gordin looked over with a raised eyebrow. "What's up with you, 3-13?" "Ah, it's nothing. I'm just recalling the times when I used to frequent arenas like this. Not forced to in order to survive, mind you. But for gold, for experience, and for a bit of fun." "... Is that where they started calling you 'The Arrow of the Gods'?" "Titles are earned, you little vulture, not given. Maybe you can earn one too, someday, when you stop being too slow." "Too slow? You arrogant lug, I-" Captain Jeorge swiftly clamped a hand over Gordin's mouth, leveling a hard gaze at the boisterous archer. Gordin relaxed after a minute, and Jeorge let him go before addressing the archers. "Alright boys, it's almost showtime. The crowd will probably find the elephant more entertaining than we would be, so try not to mess with enemies around Surus unless you're confident in pulling off cool slash tricky shots." He glanced at 3-13 for a moment before speaking again. "In any case, have the pikes at the ready. They hamstring the elephant beneath us, or otherwise take him down, and we're fucking screwed. We'll want to fend off any bastards who get too close and look like they can get past the armor. And whatever you do, remember, the Shadow King must be proud of us."
  21. 3 points
    L E V I A T H A N

    Happenstance with an Oceanview

    Hello ? I have a lot to do with Nymeria of Genesaris’ Ariatic Ocean and I was wondering if anyone was interested in any type of interaction with the Ocean Empire? In regards to Terrenus, I was hoping to establish a consulate, be it with myself or @Malintzin Doesnt have to be something drastic but it can be! Maritime endeavors or land based endeavors. I myself am not picky. I should note that there is a consulate in Port Kyros, if anyone in the west of Genesaris wishes to reach out. But all are welcome to approach this little interest check. Questions regarding the consulate can go here or in my inbox! Any ideas? Hopes? Concerns?
  22. 3 points
    Theres the IC thread, and.... Here's the OOC.
  23. 3 points
    Rabbit

    Taen OOC

    I'm not the best drawer or artist, but I decided to make a little symbol for Hydra's Haven. Crude, ugly but it works! And I do think it suits the little settlement.
  24. 3 points
    Oh, lol, I didn't think of that, I suppose that would work just as well. ? I'm so dumb. lol
  25. 2 points
    anddddd DONE
  26. 2 points
    PandaHat

    Kill Them With Kindness (open)

    " So...M'Lady. I know that... you ain't the chief and all... And... ahhh... The chief is out of town.... so we was wonderin'.... since yer all smart..." Two men approached her. Jones seemed nervous as he stood next to her. "Plus, yer good...with the whole... sorcery thing." He wiggled his fingers in the air in front of him to denote what he thought were the motions needed to cast a spell. Gisela folded her arms across her chest, stepping forward as the rest of the village seemed to cower. The trolls that were handing out pamphlets were able to do so without much of a hassle. Normally, there was a slight hustle and bustle during the daytime in the village, but this day, the village was silent. The atmosphere was tense as the visitors were able to easily distribute their materials. The music flooded the entire area. The silent villagers were witness to Gisela's approach to the one dancing. Her eyes caught the new farming equipment. These villagers needed that. It took time, but she was sympathetic to their cause. Everyone had a place in the entire world. This wasn't exactly her place, but this was a good vacation. The wildly unpredictable nurse walked over to the floating gifts and examined everything. "It's your lucky day. I've been nominated as the chief because I know the whole sorcery thing." Her voice lacked emotion. Her face lit up as she began to realize what just happened to her. The tall blonde woman wearing a pristine nurse's uniform grinned from ear to ear. "Was that a mating dance?" She asked with a giggle. "You shouldn't have." A wave of her perfectly manicured hand and she spun around on one heel. The delight she felt was quashed as someone pointed to the sky and let out a scream of terror. The villagers are superstitious. What kind of game is this? Predictably, the villagers scattered, running away and into their homes to hide. From several of the homes, there were sobs of terror. The words "bad harvest" and "misfortune" and "famine" all were screamed at the sight of the black ship. Gisela couldn't hide her fury. She turned to Dredge, violet eyes glowing slightly. "What was that?" It was the most tactful thing she could think to say. She then turned to the entourage, the trolls, the ogres, Rin, the weird familiar, then upwards to the sky. She rolled her eyes, spinning once more. "I haven't had this much fun since Norkotia." She said to herself. "Do what the Welanders do. Bow." She bowed at her waist. Her motions were almost mechanical as the mad nurse rose to stand straight. "Say words of gratitude and flattery." She whispered. "Thank you for the gifts. I will never be as generous and gracious such as yourself, honored guest. My name is Gisela Valance." Her face split into the mad grin once more. Her eyes gave a mischievous glimmer as she asked. "Might I have your name, please?"
  27. 2 points
    AngryCacti

    A Fool's Errand

    There was a ladder leading down to the first floor. Tana tugged her gloves back into place and grabbed the bars. With a deft twist, she hooked her feet around the outside of the rungs and and slid down like it was a pole. Her boots made a soft thud as she hit the ground. The thief pulled her hood off and surveyed the area. The first floor resembled the second. The only difference was that more of the roof was intact on this level. The creature she saw scurry into the building was nowhere in sight. The towers of crates and debris could be hiding anything. Face exposed, the woman was disarmingly human. There were no mystical tattoos, no point to her ears, no whisper of an ancient heritage running through her veins. Her face was dirt common- there must be a thousand girls running around central Genesaris with her shared features. Her nose was small and flat and dotted with the occasional freckle that managed to latch itself to her skin after a glimpse of sunlight. Her mouth was thin with pale lips that had a habit of twisting into a cold, wet smile. It was such a common expression that the right corner of her mouth sat at a permanent angle. Short, black hair hung around her face and shone with a mixture of water and grease. The most remarkable thing about Tana’s face was her eyes. They were slightly angled up and sat deep into her skull. Long eyelashes sat atop a smudged khol lining. The pigment collected in the crevasses of her eyes and gave her the appearance of a fashionable raccoon. And behind everything, under the smeared makeup, beneath the thin, arched brows, sat a pair of irises the color of dirt and black oil. They seemed flat and lifeless until the light hit Tana’s face just right and they gleamed with a toxic smear of reflected malice. Loose tile crunched underfoot as Tana crept through the dim storehouse. She stopped in the center of the room. Piles of junk rose around her. The storm was the only sound that echoed in the stone walls. If there were monsters present, they were showing a sudden aptitude for stealth. In a flash, a knife was between her fingers and held in a defensive position. If she was going to search the building, she wasn’t going to do it with a monster lurking around the corner. Tana shifted on her heels and coiled into herself, muscles tense and ready to spring at the first motion. “Alright, I’m done playing games. Come on out so I can kill you.” She called.
  28. 2 points
    It was cunning. James thought. It knew to scope out its foe, as surely as James was doing in return. When it charged and leapt, James was not surprised in the slightest, the Daemonslayer taking a swift low slide under the airborne assault, arcing his blade over his head to deflect any attack from chopping it off. He got to his feet and turned quickly, ready for the next exchange. The Daemonslayer adapted a stance he learned long ago for his nodachi, left leg forward and bent, his longsword held back at waist height on his right side, now in both hands. It seemed to be the setup for a powerful strike, but appearances could be deceiving.
  29. 2 points
    Auspicious Link

    A Fool's Errand

    The storm outside was once more roaring. It was just as well that Reis had scrambled into the building when he did - the rain itself was bad, but the kobold hadn't wanted to take his chances out there for much longer. The tropical weather could grow even more intense - and perhaps fatal - in the blink of an eye. If he didn't become lost in the thick sheets of rain, there was also the very real possibility that a flash flood could occur. Khada had only seen a few in his lifetime, and all of them had been near the shores of Europe, during the Spring and Summer. He'd never seen such a vast amount of vegetation in one place, however. Perhaps this was one of those tropical jungles he'd heard so much about from travelers back home. There was no chance of it being anything else. . . Of course, Reis would have taken his chances with the flood if it meant escaping a constant onslaught of monsters, which seemed to be a common occurrence in Biazo Isle. The kobold shook the water off of his scales like a wet dog, before patting himself down. His long coat was soaked, and the black tunic underneath wasn't in much better condition. Reis was glad that he'd been carrying his essential gear in his waterproofed pack, which he had strapped to his back. That was a precaution he had constantly took, in the past as a human, and now. Reis peeled his goggles off of his face and blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the warehouse. That was a perk that he rather enjoyed about his new form - it was easy to move around in pure darkness. It made things much harder on his eyes in broad daylight, though, hence his eyewear. It took just a few seconds for Reis to get his bearings and begin creeping around the old warehouse. The building wasn't small at all - from where he was, Reis assumed that the building was around 30,000 square feet, with old steel shelves, and many crates and boxes scattered about. It was already clear that this place had been emptied somewhat - lots of the crates and boxes were tipped on their side and/or open. A few crates here and there had been completely destroyed for whatever they had originally held, their frames splintered and ruined. Anything else looked like it was nailed shut. Reis cursed aloud, then covered his mouth. He first berated himself for his lack of cautiousness. He berated himself again for not ever purchasing some sort of crowbar. He had originally been against having one, as one couldn't quietly open something with a crowbar. Now, though, he was regretting that decision. The kobold would just have to do things the hard way. Sighing, he swung his pack off of his back, and to the ground. There was most certainly something else he had that could get one of the large crates open, if need be. Reis was in the process of rummaging through his belongings when he heard a thud. The thief froze. It could have been anything. From where he was, the storm could still be heard going full force. A tree could have fallen, or something could have just been thrown into the wall outside. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. But it had been a long day, and Khada Reis was such a trusting soul. Reis calmly turned his attention back to his pack. He dug through it for a moment longer, before pulling out what looked like a pair of pliers. There was no need for the thief to draw attention to himself by using his industrial - grade drill to bust through one of the crates. Some of the boxes were padlocked, while others required combinations to unlock. He could crack those open first, using his pliers and lock picks. Reis closed his backpack, and slung it back onto his shoulders, before standing up and stretching. His arm involuntarily twitched, allowing the knife he kept hidden in his sleeve to drop down. He closed his paw around the handle, then raised his arm, allowing the knife to slide back into place. He was getting twitchy again. That wouldn't do. The thief hardly ever hurt anyone during his endeavors; It wasn't in his nature to attack others, and he usually used his knives for self-defense. Still, he'd do what he had to do to stay alive. No monster was touching his scales today. Reis walked much slower now, keeping to the darkest parts of the warehouse to minimize his presence. Sure, the howling wind that could be heard from the many broken windows made it difficult for anyone to hear anything so subtle as footsteps, but reis wasn't taking any chances. Not this time, at least. Monsters. . . Scared him. After a few minutes of walking in the dark, Reis came up on a crate that seemed fairly intact. Instead of attempting to open it, though, the thief ducked behind it, holding his pliers at the ready. He wanted to wait a little longer before he went ahead and started his search for objects, magical or not. If there was a a chance that someone else was in the building with him, no matter how little, he would wait until the other made their presence known. One way or another. After all, thieves could only for so long before they decided to begin looting, couldn't they? Yes, the same could be said for Reis, but he liked to think that he had little more control over his impulses. Whoever was potentially inside had apparently already made a little noise on the way in. Anyone who made a mistake like that couldn't be too skilled, then. . .
  30. 2 points
    Ah, Alistair caught it right when he referred to the Master as ‘Daddy.’ A statement that was so very true in so many ways. Quin never had a father - leastways one that cared. When she’d entered into the agreement with The Master to work for him, it was very much the case she found herself with the drive to please. Much in the way a child does to make her parents proud - though she never got that satisfaction from her job in the Chateau. Quin struggled for every inch of value she could, and yet.....even good results were met with cool answers and occasional acknowledgement. It came as no surprise to Quin that’s a Alistair used Ira as bait. She would expect no less of him. But if he thought Ira was enough to lure Martis away from his skulking, he wasn’t aware enough of all the goings on. She wouldn’t correct him though, not until it became an issue that is. Not a word would sneak past her lips about the way he stared at her too long, or how the hair on her arms stood up when his hand would linger too close. Even if she’d planned on saying anything, Alistair’s surprising expertise in burrito-ing not only her but her hair was nothing short of impressive. Her aching frame barely got a jolt or a fissure of excess pain from being moved. She felt a little better being covered at the very least. Though being carried anywhere was an uncomfortable experience for her. Quin was an independent woman damn it! Not some weak woman in those sappy books in the library - not that she’d admit to reading any of them. But the reality of the situation was harsh in that her own two legs likely wouldn’t support her, or she’d pass out in exhaustion before they even reached their destination. Quin did take some solace in that she could in fact nap. Something she planned to do quite well when she has the opportunity. As they exited the bathroom she couldn’t help but notice he wouldn’t look at her. Not until they were walking that is. Maybe he didn’t think her eyes would be open or some such thing, the angle of her head propped on his shoulder ensured she could really look nowhere else but at him. Eventually he did look, a rare expression crossing his face for a moment before he shifted her closer. Unaware of the blood on her chin, her brow furrowed in confusion as he hunched over her. Her head moved back and away a little in reaction to his proximity. Little good it did her though as his tongue licked her from chin to the corner of her lips. It was much like being licked by a cat....with fangs. When he pulled away she wanted to run at the spot to eliminate the scratchy slimy feeling left there. But her arms were wrapped up with the towel and that wasn’t a possibility. Instead her face would be a mix of confusion and being a little grossed out that he’d just licked her for what she thought was no reason. Her cheeks were flaming in a rare blush of embarrassment, goosebumps rippling up her tucked away arms. Maybe that was something Vamps did to claim someone? She’d licked a piece of fish once so Ira wouldn’t eat it - but - surely that wasn’t what this was. At the very least he could have warned her! She was about to tell him so when he interrupted that train of thought. He wanted to know what she wondered about him? His curiosity caused her to blink a bit. Why did he want to know? Was he going to use that against her? Did he even really care? Quin wondered everything from the mundane to the more complex. Much the way prey would wonder about its hunter so it could avoid it better next time. She wondered so she could some day have the upper hand and be the one laughing at him. “For starters, I wonder why you just licked me!” She said a little crossly, her body a little tense. She took a deep breath and tried to relax, however she found it difficult. “I wonder a lot of things about you -“ she continued, “From the small and stupid to the bigger things. Like how long have you been manipulating my dreams? Marvo Pouli.” Oh yes, she knew. She figured it out a long time ago, but never had the gall to call him out on it. She never knew which were of her own making or his. More curious still, and something she would never voice - why didn’t he terrorize her there too? “Sometimes I question why me?” She briefly closed her eyes, “Of all the pitiful humans locked in the dungeons that you could torment. You choose me -“ It was like when two kids are playing together and the boy sticks a bug in the girls hair because - well who the hell knows why boys do those things! “Even more so -“ her musings took a even more serious turn, “I wonder what has hurt you so deeply that made you so cruel towards humans.....”
  31. 2 points
    Csl

    Returned

    Hey! Good to see you back! You're still welcome to play the Dermonts or do whatever in Ursa Madeum ?
  32. 2 points
    This is just my 2 cp, but if your character is powerful enough to insta two PCs at once, you may want to nerf that character. That aside, I wouldn't underestimate Adime and Gore. They may yet surprise you.
  33. 2 points
    Wade

    A Breath of Fresh Air

    Sir Pillar? The name took Eli by surprise. He couldn’t tell if it was the witch’s idea of a compliment. Regardless, he shook her hand, unsure of how else to respond. “Ah, well uh… you’re welcome?” He glanced over to Halisera. The Matriarch was already paying for their bill—and a stern glance, aimed at him, smothered his protests in their infancy. I’m just going to go, he thought, nodding to both women as he left. ----- Eli arrived at the plot half an hour later, armoured in full shellplate. A gold helmet rested upon his head, masking his features behind those of a Brumak he’d slain himself. He walked past a cliff overlooking a cave, tucked away in a small clearing, anxious to repeat the experience but looking forward to it as well. About time I see some action. It’d been too long since he’d swung anything besides a pen. He was probably rusty from lack of practice but all that meant was this was a good opportunity to regain his edge. He’d brought a spear and a shield with him—standard fare for the Raiders. Arguably the most optimal combination thanks to its high reach and defensibility. A few goodies also sat in his pouch, strapped tightly to his belt, mostly of an alchemical variety in the event of a medical emergency. “Lady Halisera,” Eli called out, spotting the woman by the cave he’d seen earlier. He tilted his helmet back, just a little, so she could catch a quick glimpse of his face. “Sorry if I made you wait, takes a bit of time to strap on all this armour.” He paused to scan the area around them. “I suppose Enid’s on her way?”
  34. 2 points
    Die Shize

    [Skarr Clan] Mouths to Feed OOC

    I’m banking on it lol That’s one reason I don’t want your Skaven fighting in tight village streets, flanked by buildings with a wall of armor and shields and spears waiting for them. The Skaven are too few for one street and still too few to approach from multiple streets. Out in the open, though, those 200 mercenaries (or however many by this point) will suddenly find themselves up against no stationary foe. And by then, the mercs will already be spread apart in fear of trebuchet fire and arrows. About twenty horses, a bear and a yak will be thundering toward their backs. The rats won’t be the only ones scattering! Also, would Khrol be willing to double up on a mount? If he wants to be present for declaring terms as I imagine the Kinsmeet representatives and ours would meet halfway. Just a blurb on my part too but thought I’d ask
  35. 2 points
    "Puck." M'yr reached for his mask, and lifted it up, ever so slowly. The smell of salt and brine became overpowering as he did so. But he stuffed the cloth in his mouth, and let the mask fall back into place. He produced his own knife, sharp and clean and salty. "You both know the rules, then?" Utger asked one last time. "Each of you has one chance to make a swing on your 'turn'. Move your hands away when they swing, and you're okay. Do it before hand, and they get to cut you for free. Whoever drops their knife, or the handkerchief first, loses." M'yre nodded, and Utger looked to Puck. "Your turn first, then, Puck." Was it really a tavern, or had Slake merely imagined it? Regardless, the acolyte found herself in a tavern of some kind, eventually. As soon as the door slammed shut behind her, the little rusted bell above the door rattling, the entire building creaked as if it were at sea. Outside, the streets of Arcturon were gone, replaced by rising water that snuck in through the cracks and gaps in the walls. About a foot of water filled the room, and if you were really losing it, you might even see a koi or two in it. The other, normal-looking patrons didn't appear to mind, of course. They chatted amicably about their time in the festival, and the things they'd seen and done so far. One of them even reached for their plate to grab a large shellfish from it, and ate it, whole, only for it to turn into a waffle fry afterward. Behind the counter, the bartender was anything but. A tall, serious-looking Acolyte waited behind there, certainly not an illusion. He was built wide as a barn, but he had no mask, or veils or helmet to speak of. The man's face was completely gone, replaced only by the ever sucking appendage of some deep-sea bottom feeder. The pale, slug-like probiscious floundered as he moved, like a living, writing beard, as he moved around preparing food and drink. When she approached the counter, it spoke, the mouth straining to flex properly, to pronounce the words. Yet, his voice was clear as day. "You can't keep bringing the ship around," He chastised her, resting his arms on the counter. His mouth nearly touched the countertop. "It's too hard for them to figure out; you're going to make them worry." And then, the obvious; "M'yr won't like it, either."
  36. 2 points
    Slinging the shotty diagonally so it hung at his left hip, the GTA cowboy bent his right knee and yanked the keys attached to the first dead banker on that day’s belt. Instead of ripping them off his person, though, Gore heard a zzzt! sound before the keys went taut in his hand. Looking back, he saw they were connected by a string of black to a clip on his victim’s midsection. “Guess you’re coming with me,” said Gore, bending down to read the gentleman’s nametag, “Jakar.” Gore dragged the body by its extend-o keychain into the vault, unintentionally slamming Jakar’s head grossly on vault entrance, then lifting his body with one hand like it was nothing. Thumbing through the keys as his world spun, his hand shakily rose to the keyhole of the first safety deposit box before pushing the key in with laser focus. The fresh corpse thudded back to the ground after about thirty seconds of suspending his bodyweight snapped his keychain’s zipline. Gore only recovered a few pounds of junk from dumping this cash box into his hot pink purse, but he was sure the second box would have a larger harvest. Gore scooted Jakar’s body into the doorway of the vault so one would have to move him before closing it effectively, then skip-hopped back to box number two. This one accepted his key too! “Woohoohoo!” he waggled his fingers, greenish grey eyes and palorous face illuminated by the contents. “Look at you, curtain number twooo!” Gold and gemstones, jewelry of all sorts, and what was that? A little pistol with one bullet clinking around? That was cute! Gore grabbed them and put ‘em in his bomber pocket. That was when he noticed the flask from all the way back at the bar. He took a look over at the doorway, at the petrified bankers and money flying, and uncapped the bottle to glub down the whole thing.
  37. 2 points
    AngryCacti

    Cool books - 2019 YTD

    Speaking of Terry Pratchett, I just finished reading The Color of Magic and The Light Fantastic. They were so much fun and contain my new favorite slow-burn pun.
  38. 2 points
    I'll have a post to account for these details tomorrow. Sorry for the wait guys
  39. 2 points
    HollowCipher

    Naughty or Nice? [Finished]

    The Other Guy readied himself, and prepared to attack. As he did, the ladies decided to do the same. The Fraulein attacked Santa with sword strikes nearing the Hosts speed, and gaining. He smiled, waiting to see how this played out. Santa, with his new strengthened... well, everything, was able to block the sword attacks with two fingers. However, the Maidenstress was giving him all he could handle. And if this kept up, and her speed kept increasing, he wouldn't be able to block every strike. Then the cat woman pounced him trying to take his head off. Using the instant the Maidenstress paused, he grabbed the cat's leg and threw her in some random direction. This cost him, however, and the Maidenstress was able to hit him several times uninhibited. Interestingly, with her new speed and strength, her strikes seemed to cut well into Santa's reinforced hide. The Other Guy smirked. Looked like the cat woman was out of it. But all of a sudden his arm shot out and directed a wind blast behind Alice, completely killing her travel speed. When she did land, it would do the approximate damage of tripping and falling. ".... I sought you said I vould be doing zis." "I did. But if you're not gonna help my teammates..." "Fien zen. Ve'll bos do it." The Other Guy's right eye flickered slightly, before changing to brown. By this point, Santa was having issues blocking all of the Maidenstress' attacks, and decided to put some distance between them instead, so that cat or that cursed brat couldn't shank him from behind again. Instead he charged at Dan at full speed and attacked. Dan however, seemed to vanish at the last moment, appearing to Santa's left. "Tsk tsk. Too slow Weihnachtsmann." The Other Guy thrust Godshard at Santa. He dodged, a bit.... frantically, almost. The instant he did, Dan snapped his fingers, and the bone dragon head appeared behind Santa, and blasted him in the back, hard enough to knock him forward. The Other Guy thrust his sword again, and Santa grabbed it in order to stop it. The sword cut into his hands, and he backed away at full speed, a hint of desperation showing. "The hell's up with him?" "Kind. I sink ve may haf foundt ze sread clencher." "The.... what?" "You know zat stupid game you love... Dark Souls Drei? Ze Storm Ruler. Yhorm." Dan grinned. "Ooooooh." Dan altered the air makeup to boom his voice. "HAMMER HIM! AS HARD AS YOU CAN! BLOW EVERYTHING!!"
  40. 2 points
    Mythandriel was prepared for his explanation, and she was grateful to Arturo for complimenting her bow arm, but what Vice told her, it made her want to pass out. Pregnant?! She couldn’t be! She had slept with Zanzarog one time, and that was weeks ago! She put a hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling very ill. “How do you know this? I-I, I can’t be pregnant..” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She looked at Vice as he tended to her feet, and she put a hand on his shoulder. “How do you know?!” She asked him again, this time with more worry in her voice. She was all alone! She couldn’t raise a baby all alone! This was Zanzarog’s child, and he was off, doing his own thing. Suddenly, the feeling in her gut rose to her throat, and she grabbed the bucket Vice was using for disposables, and she leaned over the bucket, and vomited heavily inside it. She groaned, hugging it, and tears slid down her face. “I-I can’t be pregnant! I-It’s impossible!” She wailed.
  41. 2 points
    @EpicRome23 I suppose I'll let it pass and say she's allowed to keep it. ALSO EpicRome is the other realm GM. With such analytical minds, there are things definitely things to look forward to beyond this next pair of realms too!!
  42. 2 points
    At the mouth of the mine was something that vaguely resembled a camp, though it was long disused. Even as Priscilla looked around, she could see the signs of wear and misuse. That little container full of stones was accompanied by two crumbling cabins, made of cheap wood and a log roof. The roof was heavier than the skeletal structure now, and the walls leaned inward under the weight. Any windows there might have been to the building had long since fallen out and shattered, or been removed. The one to the right of the mine's mouth had a little bit of barn-red paint clinging to it still, chipped and worn beyond appreciation now. The tracks looked fairly rusted and warped this far out of the tunnel's mouth. Priscilla paused to investigate it while her companions talked. The tracks got a bit less ruined the closer to the mine's entrance that you got, but that wasn't saying much. Just before you could enter the abandoned cave, a large dip in the ground collected rainwater, keeping it out of the mine's depths. Further in from there, the path to travel seemed pockmarked and uneven, with even a few signs of a cavein here and there further in. It was in rough shape, for certain. She wondered if, the deeper you went, the better shape it would be in. Surely the wounds were only skin deep, after all. Priscilla looked up from the tracks to Torie and Aaric, then back at the mine. Without a map, they'd have to go with whatever they could, she supposed. She shrugged her consent. "It'd take a lot of water," She mused thoughtfully. "Mines are generally pretty deep, and only get deeper over time. This one probably has a million and one branches in it, and we can't exactly check all of them in one day. There's also this ditch, see?" She pointed at the little divot she'd spied before. "It'll catch a lot of water, too. There might even be more." Well, negativity aside, she still needed to come up with a strategy to solve their problems. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Torie should see if she can get a feel for where they are. Me and you should check these old cabins for anything useful." She told him, listing supplies off on her fingers. "We'll want to look for rope, lanterns, maybe a map of the mine. Twine or yarn could be useful, too. If we're really lucky, we can find some small picks lying around to work as climbing axes, if need be." She glanced at the cabins again, before pointing him towards the one closer to the ore holder. "That's probably some kind of collections office," She guessed. "Check in there, and see if you can find anything they might have left behind. I doubt we'll find much, but it's worth looking for. I'm gonna check in this other house. Maybe Torie will be through by the time we get back."
  43. 2 points
    Tyler

    War IS The Answer!

    With both soldiers and mercenaries distracted with the perimeter, the manhole in the midst of the Norkotian lines slide open, and a head peered out. Shortly after, a hand holding a wand also stuck out and aimed toward the medics and those aiding the wounded. The spells that were cast were simple ones, but simple spells were generally the best ones to use when ones powers were depleted by the loci. These hexes were simple sleeping spells, which would slowly overtake the victim and put them into dreamland. They weren't strong, but this user could cast many of them, and rapidly too. Targeting medics first, among them, Naherin, the hidden wizard began zapping everyone he could get to, starting with those most likely to turn and discover his hidden location. If he managed to take out all the medics, he would begin working on the soldiers that were surrounding and guarding them. Should he be discovered, he'd withdraw quickly into the sewers below... @Thotification * * * Meanwhile, in the Lower City, the situation had begun to go south quickly. The incursion had already been held up, and when the Goliath moved ahead to blow the barricade, he found himself under heavily concentrated fire. The rest of the unite tried to provide him support, but an unexpected flanking attack, not by the main defending force but another unit that had slipped around them, forced the squads to stick to cover. Isolated and without covering fire, Lag-Nor was overwhelmed and ground to a halt. He fell with a mighty rumble, heavily wounded and on death's door. He may yet survive, but only if he was tended to. However, he had fallen in no-man's land, and until one side or the other broke through, there was little hope he'd get help. @Fierach * * * The combined forces of Joseph Tynes's armored brigade and Tin Man's mercenary forces began their advance. The tanks spread out, creating a sweeping fan that moved parallel along the streets, making relatively rapid progress as the defenders fled before them. But just because the first couple of defensive lines broke without a fight, did not mean the defenders were done. A least a couple platoons (four tanks each) found themselves isolated on side-streets, where they were caught in the crossfire of rotary guns, sumachinegunners and a host of infantry and low-level spell-casters. The concentrated fire kept the them from being able to support the infantry, which left both aspects vulnerable. Bravo Platoon got the worst of it. In a narrow alleyway, they found themselves barricaded and beset from all sides. The infantry had to scatter, or risk being cut apart by the attacks targeting the tanks. As a result, the tanks too to blind firing in hopes of hitting something, though it was largely ineffective. Before last tank was blown apart by defenders rushing in to slap higher-yield explosives onto the treads, their situation was radioed back to the rest of the column, in a desperate bid for reinforcements. While Tynes, in the center of the column, had not yet run into this problem, he realized that if a few enemies were using it, more would inevitably try. Thus, he pulled up radio communication with Tin Man (we will assume they synced frequencies off-screen) and relayed new orders to his men. "We're getting reports of heavy heavy fire on our armor in some of the more narrow streets. I need your men to double its efforts in keeping our tanks clean." Whether it be improving the coordination in spotting enemy strong points, or in clearing out spots the tanks could not reach, it was time for this expensive and vaunted infantry force to prove its worth. @zackrobbman @Fierach
  44. 2 points
    Had he no manners? It was common courtesy to introduce one's self at the start of a conversation, but their meeting wasn't a typical one assuming that he was here for her head. His name was a fascinating one. She wondered if it was a coincidence that his name sounded like a number, one that was unlucky at that. What was more impressive was the meaning of the numbers on their own — fitting for an assassin, if her presumptions were accurate because he had yet to confirm her claim or refute it. The amusement on the vixen's face never lessened as he approached her. While she appeared unperturbed by his advance, Akako remained on high alert watching with vigilant eyes and listening to the cadence of his breath and heartbeat. He didn't seem to be of the mind to attack at the moment, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. Her senses weren't foolproof. "Of course there are, but This One follows a certain decorum when allowed. Seeing as you've yet to attack, we can abide by standard etiquette," the demoness responded as the assassin came to a stop notably within reach. A slender brow lifted at the question that followed and her fox-smile widened. "What would your friend want?"
  45. 2 points
    Narcissa

    Futures from the Bottom of a Glass

    Vivienne's tight lips pursed mildly at mention of a duel; most of the modern world had found it a medieval practice, and while Vivienne wasn't eager for men to risk their lives, the manifest defense of their honor was a greater testament than words, when done properly. The sport was occasionally marred by a puff-chested rooster of a man who found himself keen to hold a sword, though often found him on the receiving end of a restrained hand and practiced mercy with as sore a lesson as the bruises that would surely adorn him. It was not a divine justice, bequeathed not by her Sanguine Lord, though the blood that inevitably spattered the dueling ring was attribute to him. However, dire consequences for a nonissue would displease the idol of her faith (and displease Vivienne) for lifeblood trivially spilled in pointless pursuit. If Vivienne was eventually to sanction him to the Sanguinar faith, Andross could not prostrate himself over a mere jealous squabble. Drawing in a tempered breath, a low cut of her eyes gave her pause, and she felt Andross move in for an answer, the tips of his fingers devoted to the touch of her skin. So rare was this uncertainty in Andross, an unfamiliar color in the mildness of his tone, half-asking orders that he would not pose as a question, but would not dare to order. In battle, he had the agility of a cat; at court, he was a master of resolve. But around Vivienne, as he held her there, stroking her with restrained covetousness, he could not hire the shiver doubt ran creepily up his spine. She braced him, holding his thick-sleeved bicep with a firm, comforting hand. "A lion does not say it's a lion," she said, an even-keel seriousness in her voice, "That's how your saying goes, doesn't it?" She was not deadpan, nor dispassionate, and her red eyes would not deem her reticent to her lover, for all their earnest. Andross looked less than convinced, and she sighed whimsically, greeting him again with a conceding smile, "And you are mine." One of his pride, as it were. Though his particular request might have had ways to hinder her, she was delighted by her lover's adoration, more. "Very well," she nodded complicitly, "No one else." She stroked affectionately at his downy cheek, soothing him with warm tenderness, so that he might know she was sincere; he seemed satisfied. If a little inconvenience was what she had to pay for his peace of mind, so be it. "And now," she refocused very matter-of-factly, patting him on the arm and rolling her neck in a modest stretch, "I'm expecting another." She chuckled inwardly at the gaffe for it's irony, twists of fate proving humorous, given the task at hand. With her hand on his elbow, she spun him around, and pushed him to the back of the lab, to the door where her quarters remained, remodeled from the former dungeon. Vivienne had preferred staying close to her work, and had become somewhat of a recluse when absorbed in her machinations; often, Andross would drift down the stairs in the late morning, come to find his elven Hexmistress plugging away at her work, no less energetic, save for the graying bags under her eyes, evidence that she hadn't slept. He'd grown accustomed to most of her quirks and eccentricities, some he liked better than most, particularly her wardrobe. "Go!" she ushered him, pushing at the back of his hips with the flat of her hands, "Go, go!" Vivienne sputtered stifled laughs all the while, unable to keep a straight face while forcing through Andross' stubbornness and resistance. Nearly bowling him through the door, Vivienne reached her hand out, grasping for the unbuttoned collar of his jacket. She'd snatched him, and indulged in a deep kiss, breath hissing as she held Andross' cheeks between her hands, and tempted time to stop for her to linger with her forehead pressed against his for yet another moment. Knowing that it was short, Vivienne beamed at him, and pointed. "The portrait, there. Remove it; there's a lattice behind it. You'll want to see this," she said. With that red twinkle in her eyes, Andross could tell, she already knew. As she'd said, behind the painting of the Ursa Madeum landscape that had not-so-sentimentally adorned Vivienne's practical room, there was a metal lattice, grated with holes enough to see and hear, coming out the other side through a bookshelf, a nigh imperfect view of her laboratory. Insurance, perhaps, that no one rifled through her things whilst she slept. She held a finger to her lips, beckoning quiet as she hid Andross away, and then closed the door behind her. Sweeping return into the lab with a great flush of her white fur coat, she'd attended to assembling the tea, tested warm as she placed her fingers against the iron teapot. Lifting the handle to give it a fair swish, it settled, and the door above the stairs creaked open, not a moment too soon. "Come for tea, my lord?" Vivienne repeated in a sing-song voice, feeling an inkling of déjà vu.
  46. 2 points
    ticklefarte

    Founders Library

    The sound of his boots clopping on wood echoed through the corridor, rhythmic and solid. He could hear conversation in the main lobby, followed by hearty laughter. The Library had visitors? That was new. Will tightened his grip on the lantern in his hand. The pale glow of the light cast eerie shadows on the walls around him. Ah, maybe eerie to most people. To him, however, the Library had been home for two years, the shadows and dust as well. Home sweet home, he thought with a sigh. The corridor opened up into a balcony overlooking the large space of the library, filled with tall bookshelves that lined themselves into a very confusing maze. Lantern light filled some paths, while others were dark and untouched. Will smiled at the sight of it and turned off the lamp he held. He squinted and spotted the source of the noise. Dynes had brought a friend. "Ah," the Genesari chuckled, "The Founders Library is no joke, my friend. We work hard to understand this city's past." "Really?" stammered the newcomer. "What past?" The two were roaming the center aisle of the bookshelves, Dynes stumbling through piles of books as he described his job here. The boy who followed him was young, dark skinned, and slim. He looked uncomfortable here, following a man who was clearly drunk and slurring his words. At the question, Dynes let out another laugh. Will shook his head wryly and opened his mouth. "First rule," he announced. The two whipped around to look up, alarm on their faces. With a grunt, Will seized the railing with both hands and vaulted over the balcony. There was a brief moment of silence as he fell through the air, then a thud as his boots found a bookshelf a few feet under him. The structure shook from the weight, but his landing was secure. Will smiled and walked steadily to the edge so that he was looking down at the men. "If you knock over a pile," he continued, "please do clean up after yourself."
  47. 2 points
    Jotnotes

    [Skarr Clan] Mouths to Feed

    Between the combined efforts of Veron's convoy and Vito's companions changing shape and taking flight, progress was quickly underway, even as the Raiding party continued along whatever trail existed for them to follow. with Veron's cart at the head, he led them North, in the direction of food, hopefully. The Skaven themselves had been wary of the myriad beasts their mates had brought along, and this did not do much to relieve them. Thril, still clinging to her new cloak, had finally elected to wrap it around her shoulders shortly after the drake had turned into a strange bird-cat-thing. The cloak hung heavy and snug around her shoulders, and only further served to hide her visage from sight, to her great satisfaction. She wondered if later on she could get a mask as well, to better disguise her features, like Vee-Toe had. She imagined herself looking quite fearsome with such a getup, indeed! Zhot was temporarily distracted as Veron's crew grouped up, then set off in all directions, seeking potential food sources and trails to pursue. It was the first time the glaive-rat had ever encountered goblins, or hobgoblins, or any of the varied beasts they traveled upon and with. His anxiety piqued as they all gathered together, in a bizarre display of force, just before departing, well-armed and moving in very large groups. Each of their little scouting parties far surpassed the Skaven raiding crew, and were likely far stronger than the raiders as well. The rat clung to his weapon, grateful then that they were all on the same team. Elsewhere, Skritch went back to his weapon again. He unwound a small pouch of wire tools, and continued touching and testing the weapon with feverish, obsessive motions. From where Zhot was, he took a moment to examine how the marksman-rat was doing; he couldn't figure it out precisely, but gathered that Skritch was trying to keep the weapon in perfect condition at all times, by constantly twisting the crossbow wire, tightening the mechanisms that kept the wire in place, adjusting the weapons 'sight', the grip and the arms. It was interesting just how familiar the other Rat was with his weapon at this point. Zhot glanced over to the Seer, who looked mostly bored. That made a sort of sense, too, he supposed. The Seer was a bitter creature; uncaring and cruel, intent on his own status and success. He was well-read, too, or so Zhot understood. Had he seen these creatures before? Probably not. Yet, the snarl he almost always lapsed into never faded. He was uncomforting, and Zhot felt as though he likely regretted being sent on this trip. He avoided looking at the Seer overlong, and returned to his weapon, trying something new with it. Scouting out the surrounding area in all directions, the world unfurled slowly for the raiders. The little caravan, trailing along on minimalist roads, slowly vanished from view, and was quickly and quietly replaced by undisturbed natural grasslands, gentle hills hither and thither. Heading eastward proved effective--it took no time at all for scouts to find the major road that contoured the forest, but did not enter it. This route would eventually ride North, towards Hell's Gate at some point several days away, whereas to the South it flanked the forest, taking travelers down towards the Southern Coast eventually, and a number of major cities. These roads were also quite well-traveled, and many caravans, horses and other types went along these roads frequently. This made it difficult to scout for communities along the path without drawing attention difficult, especially as armed guards taking care of caravans and wagons began to appear along them. This didn't mean that it was impossible to search along the East for supplies; in fact, there were even a few Orchards, and a few large farms within a day's travel that way, although they were close enough to many roads that raiding them discreetly might prove difficult, if not impossible. Perhaps the most promising mark to the immediate East was a well-sized village, where the buildings appeared sturdy and strong and new. Even from a distance, the pounding of hammers and nails rang clear through the air, and caravans were spotted all around the rising community. Mirroring that of Nesthome, even, this little hovel had all matter of supplies coming in; and certainly a great deal of food. Guards appeared to be present, certainly. They were mercenary types--their armor and equipment well-preserved and uniform, military grade weapons and armor. However, they were a small, and probably expensive detail. Getting through them, and probably the settlers as well, might prove to be a hazard. Elsewhere, in the North, no such roads existed, and instead scouts were treated to increasingly harsher hills. They started gentle and sloping, lush, green-dotted mounds, that eventually grew progressively more barren as scouts traveled further. Within a few day's journey from here, the hills gave way to valleys, and even a few mountains over time. Further beyond that, the badlands beckoned, sparse and dry, and perhaps boasting a few communities hidden within. Between the Skaven and that, however, were scarce few farms and homesteads of note. Those that were discovered, of course, seemed like easy pickings, with a few hills converted into steppes for the efficient purpose of growing hearty vegetables, like maize, potatoes and various grains. Livestock were well-kept in the hills, as well. Indeed, that stead that Vito had mentioned was up there as well. It was built right on top of the skeletons of an older keep, with quickly-put up palisade walls, and more than a handful of guards patrolling it, even now. These mercenaries, too, appeared to be part of some kind of outfit; their weapons were well-made and dangerous looking, and their numbers promised a grand fight. However, the ruins themselves were not terribly big; the farms there were likely all owned by the same noble, and while they claimed some fair amount of land outside of the walls, much of it had yet to bear fruit. There were certainly other, perhaps more valuable targets to find, but this one also existed. The most exciting mark Northward wasn't a permanent residence, but rather what appeared to be a dig site of some kind. It was hard to approach, but it appeared to be an ongoing archaeological dig of some kind, unearthing some recently uncovered relic or another. This was likely short of food, of course, and guarded just enough to make it a target worth thinking about, but perhaps not attacking. Westward, the same roads eventually wound around the woods that Nesthome hid within. It was here that it the sheer scale of such a wood was impressed upon scouts; hundreds of acres of land, all for the Skaven to cut and clear and harvest and hide in. The serpentine-like road stretched on for days on end in that direction, but there was at least one valuable target along it. Somewhere, just a few hours away from the edge of the wood, a small community appeared to bristle with life. They were well-guarded, and perhaps a bit dangerous, but they were out of the way of potential respondents, and close enough to a handful of farms, making them an ideal target for vapid raids, if the Skaven could muster the fighting power to claim it.
  48. 2 points
    As the scientist left, Dan followed. He utilized his considerable stealth skills, and followed undetected. However, he lost sight of the scientist when he was mentally mapping out the insides of the ship. He was about to fan his senses out further to find him, when he felt an energy spike, one that matched the scientist's energy signature. He silently made his way toward it, only to feel it yet again a few moments later. He turned the corner, and saw a guard dutifully standing watch by the engine room. Dan started to reveal himself and ask if the guard had seen a scientist come by the area, when he noticed several things. One, the guard was standing outside the engine room as one would, but he felt two energy signatures inside the room. Both VERY close together. Two, referencing the previous point, this guard was clearly terrible at his job; there was only supposed to be an engineer in the engine room, no one else. Normally, this wouldn't be so out of place, except for one thing: Luz may have been a bit of a blowhard, but Dan could very easily tell that she was not stupid, nor was she inept. There wasn't a chance in Tartarus that she would have hired someone THIS bad at guarding, and certainly not someone so bad as to let someone else in when he was RIGHT in front of the door. Unless they were a scientist. However, the forms in the room did not appear to be moving. All of this would have just been chocked up to weird happenstance, and maybe Dan would have staked the room out a bit, if not for one final thing. Three. The guard outside the room had precisely the same energy signature as the scientist, along with the exact same scent. Both of which individually were impossible, both together at once was simply unthinkable. Which meant... Oh ho ho... THAT is a neat trick. Dan walked down the hall, casual and nonchalant as you please, before stopping halfway past the guard. If the guard mentioned that he was not supposed to be there, Dan would ignore it entirely. "Hey. You're a guard right? In good with Fuzzy Luzzy? Do me a favor will ya? Tell her later that Joker gives his compliments to the ones who made that second engine. I dont wanna tell her myself, or she might get an even bigger head. But, I am rather impressed with it. And I am rarely impressed." Dan would then use his speed, and be right in the guard's left ear. "But never fooled." With that, Dan would vanish entirely, dissolving his body into air. He slipped under the door, and re-materialized on the other side. He immediately noticed the box on the engine. While he knew of many forms of tech and magictech, this engine was entirely unfamiliar to him, and he had no reason to think that the box was a problem. Except that his demigod instincts were screaming 'Trouble! Bad! The scientist was out there for a reason!" And his thief instincts were screaming, 'Out of place! Trap!' To silence this, Dan pulled out his smartphone, one he always used for recording and classifying the monsters he hunted, and snapped two pictures of it. One far away, showing the whole of the engine he could fit, and one close up on the box. If there was a problem, Fuzzy Luzzy would be able to identify it immediately. It was then that it dawned on him. The two figures he sensed in here were not present. He looked around briefly in confusion, only to have his air senses pick up deep breathing. Two sets. In the waste chute. Without a moments hesitation, Dan yanked open the chute, and immediately turned his purification filter, for lack of a better word, on. Essentially, he would change the contents of the air in his immediate vicinity to normal air, hence, should there be an aerosol or gas trap present, it would be entirely ineffective. And when he saw the two sleeping bodies in the chute, one of the engineer, and one of the guard, both sets of his instincts sounded every alarm possible. Not that it was needed. Dan knew sabotage when he sensed it, having done it many times himself. Wait till Fuzzy Luzzy gets wind of THIS. Aaaah, I see what you did there.
  49. 2 points
    danzilla3

    The pigs gotta die!

    Sebastian had finished five large plates filled with all manner of pork and showed no signs of stopping as the hunters gathered. Ever since he had bonded with the Hydra his appetite had increased exponentially. Aveline and Thurgood's barbecue was one of his favorites; since it was delicious, and they tended to serve it in large quantities. He had no idea why his hunger had grown so fierce, but it was a small price to pay for what he had gained. Grabbing another plate, he rose and walked over to where the siblings were talking to another hunter. "Xer are rarely seen outside Sierra Ossa since the Battle of Totenborough. I'm told there's some kind of super predator keeping them from coming out of the mountains like they used to." He turned to Thurgood, "I won't be participating in the contest. You've seen what's left after I do my thing."
  50. 2 points
    Rabbit

    Research the Valley of Elemental Stone

    Vito stood at the entrance of the ship eagerly awaiting the outsiders, one of his favorite parts of his job was greeting the strange and random people that came to the small settlement. Encounters were a blessing, one he firmly appreciated. It wasn’t long till a young dwarven girl approached the ship, a large smile on her face. He looked around, examining the kobolds expressions. None looked hostile, thankfully she was tall enough not to be mistaken for a gnome. Something that has unfortunately happened in the past. Regardless, her bubbly nature pushed all of Vito’s worries away. ‘Been a long time since I’ve seen a dwarf, at least one not overly intoxicated.’ “Wendolyn, lovely name. And Rune Hammer? Sounds like an honorable title, you’ll have to teach me its meaning at some point. We’re just waiting for three others, then I can begin the meeting.” It wasn’t long till he was approached by what he thought was a well decorated kobold, in the confusion he almost didn’t realize it was more human in personality. Well, its soul was human, but body was draconic. Tho greatly confused, he ignored his own thoughts. The draconic mans voice full of joy and huffing away, he greeted the two. “Welcome, Dr. Ouros Lugoff. Glad to see someone of scientific prowess, I can assure you there will be plenty of fun and discover ahead. I have my dragon upstairs on top deck, I’m sure you two will have fun conversations.” ‘Hmm, I’ll need to keep track of this dragonic one after this expedition. He’ll be useful for future familiar projects.’ The third to join was a human, or at least looked human. The woman even from a distance had noticeable burn marks that seemed rather severe. But Vito had little care for such things, he fared no better underneath his armor which hid his war wounds. ‘Holly the Farmer, nice and simple. I like it.’ “Welcome aboard Holly, one more person and we’ll begin this meeting. Based on looks, I’d say this man here is our last one.” The last one to arrive was a tall man with white hair, he quickly greeted everyone before giving his name. ‘He lies.’ ‘I’m aware of that.’ When you've been a raider your whole life, over a year of experience in the heavy drug trafficking business and your partner in crime is a master of forgery you learn to pick up on lies quickly. It’s something that has saved the raiders life on multiple occasions. But Vito didn’t care much, people had many reasons to hide their true name. Some good, others bad. With everyone ready, he began the meeting. “Okay, so you all know why you are here. We’re going to a valley east of here, which has been named the Valley of Elemental Stone. Reason for its name is fairly obvious, LOTS of elemental stone which has made the terrain very anomalous. We will be going to research the geography of this valley, this will be a roughly two day trip. From what we know the fauna is relatively tame and not too dangerous, but it’s recommended you still keep your distance if you can. Little is known about the flora, so be wary. It’s the terrain that’ll get you, one minute you’ll be walking on mud then it’ll water. Be cautious, always watch your footing. That’s it for safety.” Vito took a brief pause to catch his breath. “First floor starting from the bottom of the ship is just storage, nothing special. Second floor is crafting facilities and canteen, you’re free to use them at any point. Third floor is the cabins, this is where you can store your gear and rest. Top deck is where I’ll be situated, controls and captains cabin is there. Feel free to relax up there and enjoy the view, Aeris always loves a good conversation.” Vito pulled out his logs and began flicking through the pages. “Wendolyn, your room number is 15. Dr Ouros, room 22. Holly, room 34. Jonathan, room 45. Any issues or questions then come to top deck and speak to me, there are also two kraul guards by every door and entrance so don’t be afraid to request their help. We’ll be leaving in 20 minutes, so get comfortable.” Vito teleported to the top deck and entered the control room, he gave everything another double check and prepared the engines. He looked out to the deck to see Aeris still talking to the kobold, rolling his eyes at the talkative summon. Starting the engines, there was a lovely roar as the ship vibrated. With everyone on board and final preparation complete, he shut all external doors and hatches and began to gain altitude. The ship raised higher and higher, the city and trees merging into one blur, once high enough he began acceleration. The group was now officially on the move. Vito pulled out the speaker and began announcements. “Good morning to all crew on board, this is your captain. We’ll be arriving at our destination in roughly one hour, the expected expedition time is two days and today's dinner choice is fire opal stew or tusken salamander kebab. Dessert will be a mixed fruit bowl, all source from the local forest, or moss goat cheese cake. Thank you all and work safe.” Leaving his co-pilot in charge for a while, Vito went out to the top deck and observed the Taen scenery as it flew by.
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