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Fierach

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Fierach last won the day on March 20 2018

Fierach had the most liked content!

About Fierach

  • Rank
    Thurokiir
  • Birthday August 1

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  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    New York City
  • Interests
    Gaming, Roleplay, Weapons, Reading, Writing
  • Occupation
    Angry New Yorker

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  1. Fierach

    General chat thread

    It looked right on my phone. Ah well, fixed now.
  2. Fierach

    General chat thread

    In other news, since I don't have an art thread (but should probably get one) the results of my latest commission is in. Behold, tis shiny.
  3. Fierach

    General chat thread

    Yeah. Thats a terrible combo. Haven't found a way to make it taste good yet myself.
  4. Despite their implicit danger, the jabs were only ever to force a reaction from his opponent. Eshara judged that when outranged his opponent would resort to kicks to maintain distance parity. It was the textbook response. He was counting on that. Eshara braced himself and lowered his center of gravity on his fourth jab, directing it downwards to turn it into a low forearm parry against the stomp kick. There was need for Leo's attack to be more precise then Eshara's answer. Even an inch's diversion would reduce the pressure on his front leg acceptably, allowing the Custodes to press forth and twist his right side in with a tremendous right cross to the face. The goal was to catch Leo while he was still on one leg.
  5. Fierach

    Csl's Art Box

    I heard she's single now. 😎
  6. Of the multitude of devices, machines, and arcane pieces of circuitry Mori Tuschiya had devised to bolster the defenses of the Abbadon Triumvirate, few were as effective, or as simply deadly as the Widow Self-Propelled Mine (SPM). The device was half the size of a man, and usually the only sign one would see of a mine was a round steel circular disk above ground, easily overlooked, with the rest of its clawed body hidden underground. Twice a day, the four-legged drones would unearth themselves, and scuttle about the extremity of the perimeter, adjusting coverage before rapidly burrowing back into the ground to keep watch in a vague semblance of a patrol. Usually passive, when set on alert, they armed themselves with additional detection modes, a red eye appearing in the center of the disc to actively track potential threats, and tasked the on-board fabricator to manufacture a micromissile to take out unwanted guests. The only hint a potential victim would get before the missile flew at them would be an eerie click, and then a hiss. Even when they weren't burrowed, they possessed an agility like that of a hunting hound, and could re-position quickly. Had the attacking force more time to reconnoiter and plan, they would have been able to detect the mines.The carts were an easy take. Already under suspicion due to the increased alertness of the centaur camp, the mines surveyed the damaged wagons and found no semblance of living organic matter. They were automated, just as the mines were. The closest mine to the carts assembled a low-yield missile on the spot, and fired it at the lead cart. The warhead packed enough explosive to crater the chest of a normal human, and if it connected, it would easily take out the rickety, volatile wagon, and hopefully force the others to divert, or else detonate them in a spectacular chain reaction just shy of passing the ruined farmhouse.There were six mines around the entire camp. They were all managed from a central conduit in one of buildings, a reinforced section cleverly concealed by brick and stonework and shielded from all but the most skilled observers. Each mine's greatest disadvantage was their period of rearming, and relatively short range. A new missile had to be manufactured, a series of gentle humming and clicks that might give away their position to an attentive observer, and the low-yield missiles they fired had an effective range of roughly 60 feet before sputtering and giving out, limitations of their design.
  7. A slight smirk upturned the corner of Eshara's lips. "Omae wa mou shindeiru" he replied, in perfect, if accented Weland. In the next moment, the maned lion was before Leo, closing the gap with one powerful lunge. Eshara seemed to be a striker, the slight tilt of his left shoulder being the only tipoff before he unleashed a barrage of three left jabs at Leo's face, each noteworthy in their almost textbook execution. These were not light jabs either. Eshara's superior weight advantage and natural strength meant that even one of these fast strikes had the power to cut Leo's consciousness if he took it at a bad angle. His superior size gave him a reach advantage too. Leo would have to try and slip past the jabs if he wanted to strike back with anything but a kick. Even so, it didn’t seem like Eshara was using jabs to keep the younger man at a distance, but almost as a setup.
  8. Rolling a D10 (supposed to be D5), for true justice!
  9. Barristan agreed with Fidelita's response. So did his companion Junia, although privately she thought that it would have been just as well to toss overboard some of the more... overzealous members of their little group. Were they seriously trying to poison themselves to weed out potential infiltrators? Whilst she understood the need for security, that action seemed just like paranoia to her, and paranoia could be just as damaging as any saboteur. It was well that they didn't attempt to test their concoction with the two Custodes Militant. They only took direct orders from their Knight, and an ugly fight would have broken out. There was no more time to muse on other actions as the harpies descended upon the party and the air lit up in a storm of gunfire and arrows. Like quicksilver, the bard pulled her bow with practiced ease and fired two arrows in the blink of an eye, whilst her more heavily armored companion drew his pistol and awaited a possible breakthrough by the enemy.
  10. By the way, to Group 3. If at all you can let Sheryl be in front, please do so. She's built as a tank.
  11. Emperor Titus Demetrius was not a well-known man to the Order of Force Majeure, but in the short time that they had known him, he had gained their respect. In recognition of his accomplishments and contribution to the stability of Terrenus, the Force Majeure gave the honour of a guard of their finest Militants, the Greatswords, along with a Knight-Representative. The former flanked the coffin, two hulking beings to each side in their bronzed armor, standing much taller then normal men, masked in their great helms with their cyclopean eye. They were distinguishable only by the difference in their sheathed weaponry, and by the differing honors and heraldry on their armor, all of which were obscured by blackened cloaks of mourning. The Knight-Representative, Tenris Stromborne was a mountain of a man, as almost as large out of armor as his subordinates were in their wargear, and he communicated to them privately through a commlink from his seat amongst those who paid their respects to the late Emperor, ensuring they adhered to and followed proper procedure and timings. As the eulogies and speeches wound down, the ring of bells and chimes signaled the beginning of the final walk, and acting as pallbearers, each Greatsword took a corner of the coffin. Solemnly and with sacred gravitas, they bore it down the pathway of carved columns, and down to Titus's final resting place, followed closely by Empress Rozharon and close friends and family.
  12. Don't worry guys. The Order'll do its best to make sure something like this doesn't happen.
  13. Another day. Another beating. Survival was pain. But he learned from pain. Everyday, through perseverance, through having the lessons drilled into his very bones, slowly, surely, Leo Hyuk improved. He might've even been able to see his goal in sight, defeating the good Professor. That little solace would be stripped from him this day however, as Professor Meira, in her superior experience and wisdom, called in a contact to teach him the truth of matters. That beyond the mountain, there was always another mountain. It was Leo's goal to defeat Professor Meira… but that was not enough. One did not simply rest on their laurels on the battlefield, it was an ever evolving thing and complacency bred dead soldiers. He had to aim higher, he had to be better. Like all teachers, Capia Meira wanted her students to survive and excel. It was one more lesson that would be beaten into Leo today as he stood across the span of the dueling circle, facing down a dark-maned lion of a man. The badge on his cloak identified him well enough as a member of the Order of Force Majeure. That elite organization was one of the fastest growing and most vaunted of Knightly Orders throughout Terrenus, tasked with keeping the peace, and battling the forces of eldritch powers, chaotic daemons, and corrupt warmasters wherever they were found. Though he was no Knight in the Force Majeure, Eshara Dominic was a Captain of their supporting Custodes Militant, of the division of Greatswords, elite heavy shock troops who plunged headfirst into the deadliest and most dangerous battlefields. It was not known how the Professor came across this contact. Perhaps the Force Majeure's responsibility to the nations of ANT called for it, perhaps they had met and became acquaintances a while ago. Perhaps she was calling in a favor or friendship from a Knight, or perhaps she paid well to send the word and ask for a battlemaster. Whatever the case might've been, she was not telling, and Leo Hyuk had greater concerns to think about, as the warrior removed his cloak, revealing a muscular form scarred by the marks of experience. He was smaller then the orc the younger man had faced, but still larger then Leo, and gave off a different sort of dangerous feeling. The Lion of Dusk settled into a stance with his legs slightly apart, knees slightly bent, and arms held out with the elbows bent at 90 degree angles, hands relaxed and at face level. Words could come later... if Leo still had breath when they were finished.
  14. My apologies on the delay in posting. Feeling a bit under the weather.
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