Across the Four Great Islands (Fantasy RP) *Now Recruiting Again*
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The Arena - Waiting Room
IC: Terath D'Arigan
Terath watched the fight with great, if slightly inebriated, interest. It seemed to be between a few excellent fighters of extremely varied appearance and a group of uniform black-swathed figures wielding knives. He debated joining in for a moment, then dismissed the idea. He wasn't so drunk that he'd forgotten how drunk he was, and he knew there was no way he would be able to aim straight. Best let events play out, then. After all, it's not as if the battle could get to him; there were half a dozen hundred pounds of golden minotaur in between him and the worst of the combat.
A shadowy figure appeared behind the minotaur, and just as promptly exploded into a cloud of smoke as a spiked club flew through it. Terath lost some of his confidence.
He lost even more when another black figure slipped in front of him and raised a knife in one weirdly shaped hand, lunging towards the gap in his open coat. He drained his beer in one quick motion and punched the figure in the head with the tankard.
Despite his decision to not get involved in the combat, the combat had gotten involved with him. He sighed, and hit the assassin again as it tried to stand up. Sometimes the world really seemed like it was operating just to spite him.
TAG: Tiki, Waiting Room Crowd
IC: Terath D'Arigan
Terath watched the fight with great, if slightly inebriated, interest. It seemed to be between a few excellent fighters of extremely varied appearance and a group of uniform black-swathed figures wielding knives. He debated joining in for a moment, then dismissed the idea. He wasn't so drunk that he'd forgotten how drunk he was, and he knew there was no way he would be able to aim straight. Best let events play out, then. After all, it's not as if the battle could get to him; there were half a dozen hundred pounds of golden minotaur in between him and the worst of the combat.
A shadowy figure appeared behind the minotaur, and just as promptly exploded into a cloud of smoke as a spiked club flew through it. Terath lost some of his confidence.
He lost even more when another black figure slipped in front of him and raised a knife in one weirdly shaped hand, lunging towards the gap in his open coat. He drained his beer in one quick motion and punched the figure in the head with the tankard.
Despite his decision to not get involved in the combat, the combat had gotten involved with him. He sighed, and hit the assassin again as it tried to stand up. Sometimes the world really seemed like it was operating just to spite him.
TAG: Tiki, Waiting Room Crowd
The Arena - Waiting Room
IC: Olm
As an assassin came toward him with a knife, Olm ducked quickly, as the figured was blasted in the face with a tankard, disappearing with a puff of smoke. For an unexpected reason, a man had come stumbling into the room, and given him quite the large bruise on the head as he stood back up.
As Olm looked up to identify the man who so rudely attacked him, the face on one of the assassins was a quite curious one. The masked figure had come stumbling out of the corner of the room to attack another new face, this one female. He's... holding his... face... nose... nose bleed? Ow, my head...
TAG: Zelamac, ae86gamer, Fatscalyman, Tirin
IC: Olm
As an assassin came toward him with a knife, Olm ducked quickly, as the figured was blasted in the face with a tankard, disappearing with a puff of smoke. For an unexpected reason, a man had come stumbling into the room, and given him quite the large bruise on the head as he stood back up.
As Olm looked up to identify the man who so rudely attacked him, the face on one of the assassins was a quite curious one. The masked figure had come stumbling out of the corner of the room to attack another new face, this one female. He's... holding his... face... nose... nose bleed? Ow, my head...
TAG: Zelamac, ae86gamer, Fatscalyman, Tirin
Sorry, misread your post. Didn't know what you meant by bringing your fist to his head. I'll edit it later.[/i]
The assassin came after Olm, not Terath, and the assassin "getting up" was actually Olm getting up from when he ducked the assassin's attack. Then an assassin popped up behind Freya, and he had a nose bleed. Olm is partially woozy from the tankard hitting him in the head.
Debatra said:
Where is it?
Outskirts of Kalgorith
IC: Seaster
Wiping the blood from his nose, Seaster gives a look of disgust. "Call me a coward, but it seems that even without going into the cave, we aren't safe." Seaster passes Eisicin, headed for the cave; Forst already having entered and almost lost into the darkness.
TAG: Fatscalyman
Is there any chance an extra character could slip in under cover of the chaos and confusion? This looks good and I want in =)
What is not to understand, Zelamac? An assassin didn't come after you, so you punched the assassin that was after Olm. The assassin turned into a puff of smoke, so you hit Olm when you said "I hit him as he gets up". Answer in PM.
Yes. LETS JUST STOP WITH THE SPOILERS FSDSDFDSFSDF BACK TO GAMEThreeWords said:
By the way, STOP FOCUSING ON THIS SINGLE EVENT. JESUS. I've got millions of other things happening in the city. It's a CAPITAL. You don't have to stay there if you don't want to!
The Arena - Waiting Room
IC: Terath D'Arigan
Terath watched the smoke drift through the room where one of the assassins had disappeared. It was obvious, he decided, that he was more drunk than he had thought. That was the only reasonable explanation for what was happening.
He reviewed the facts while watching the dazzling display of swordplay and magic occuring around him. Mysterious dark figures charging about with knives and vanishing in puffs of smoke did not bode well for whatever was occuring. So. One of them had lunged at him, and...uh...did it vanish then? No, it must still have been around, because he punched it a second time. Or was that the elf?
He moved to take another sip of his beer before realizing that the tankard was empty. He scowled into the beer-stained depths. Apperantly alcohol wasn't around to help him solve the problem.
He took another look around the room. This battle was interesting and all, but it seemed that he was too drunk to participate accurately. And maybe, just maybe, if he slipped out now the golden minotaur wouldn't notice him and carry him off someplace else.
Tankard clutched protectively close to his chest, Terath began edging towards the door.
TAG: Tiki
IC: Terath D'Arigan
Terath watched the smoke drift through the room where one of the assassins had disappeared. It was obvious, he decided, that he was more drunk than he had thought. That was the only reasonable explanation for what was happening.
He reviewed the facts while watching the dazzling display of swordplay and magic occuring around him. Mysterious dark figures charging about with knives and vanishing in puffs of smoke did not bode well for whatever was occuring. So. One of them had lunged at him, and...uh...did it vanish then? No, it must still have been around, because he punched it a second time. Or was that the elf?
He moved to take another sip of his beer before realizing that the tankard was empty. He scowled into the beer-stained depths. Apperantly alcohol wasn't around to help him solve the problem.
He took another look around the room. This battle was interesting and all, but it seemed that he was too drunk to participate accurately. And maybe, just maybe, if he slipped out now the golden minotaur wouldn't notice him and carry him off someplace else.
Tankard clutched protectively close to his chest, Terath began edging towards the door.
TAG: Tiki
When I create an encounter like this, I usually like to throw in a puzzle to solve within it that has to deal with finding out the weakness of the enemy. The person who solves the puzzle gets a prize sometime soon. I've given you basically enough hints for you guys to at least take a shot at it. I'll give it another day or two, and then I'll just solve it. I want to continue!
The Arena - Waiting Room
IC: Tronfros Gronintur
Tronfros had been content to stand back and watch, but now the action had come a little too close for comfort. One of the assassins had clearly tried to attack the little man standing next to him. He didn't know whether or not the man was involved in this, but he guessed not, since he hadn't tried to engage in the battle. Also, if the funny looking drunk man was a threat, the massive tower of fur standing next to him could easily be viewed as a threat as well. He was now in danger, whether by his own accord or not.
He shook himself again, to loosen his muscles, readying himself for battle. His gaze pierced the room even more sharply then before, as he prepared to defend himself. he glanced down at the elf, who was for some reason on the ground, holding his head. So easily encumbered and knocked down. He leaned down and picked up the elf in a firm grip, then planted him on his feet. "Stand up. The danger is not gone yet." He saw that the elf was slightly stunned, like a man who had been hit with a heavy object. He reached down to his belt and into a medium sized bag, and brought out a small stone vial, which he then handed to the still reeling elf. "Here, take a sip of this. It will burn going down, but it will also clear your head."
Now to the fighting. He looked around the room one more time, locating his enemies and would-be allies, then strode forward, pounding toward the center of the room, against the fleeing crowd of people. Many of the assassins seem to be disappearing when killed. This is probably a variation of some ind of summoning skill, with the spellcaster creating mirror images of himself, that can interact with the physical world. When they are struck hard enough, they simply disappear, since they do not have true physical bodies. The trick then, is to find the real one, who is most likely hiding somewhere, or being guarded by his copies. Tronfros figured the best way to help the others find the real assassins was to draw the fake ones to him. After all that's what he was good at.
He stopped about 30 yards from the main group of assassins. He drew in his breath, then let out a giant bellow, pounding his chest and waving his horns, daring them to attack him. He stepped forward and roared again as some of them turned in his direction. He had got their attention now. As several of them charged, he took a deep breath, his eyes glowing faintly blue. He then exhaled through his nose, two sparkling jets of frozen air erupting downward from his nostrils and into his waiting hands. As the assassins closed the distance and were nearly to him, he planted one foot behind him and thrust both arms forward, palms open wide, sending a wall of icy blue air into the oncoming attackers, slowing them almost to a stop.
TAG: Waiting Room peeps, especially Tiki
IC: Tronfros Gronintur
Tronfros had been content to stand back and watch, but now the action had come a little too close for comfort. One of the assassins had clearly tried to attack the little man standing next to him. He didn't know whether or not the man was involved in this, but he guessed not, since he hadn't tried to engage in the battle. Also, if the funny looking drunk man was a threat, the massive tower of fur standing next to him could easily be viewed as a threat as well. He was now in danger, whether by his own accord or not.
He shook himself again, to loosen his muscles, readying himself for battle. His gaze pierced the room even more sharply then before, as he prepared to defend himself. he glanced down at the elf, who was for some reason on the ground, holding his head. So easily encumbered and knocked down. He leaned down and picked up the elf in a firm grip, then planted him on his feet. "Stand up. The danger is not gone yet." He saw that the elf was slightly stunned, like a man who had been hit with a heavy object. He reached down to his belt and into a medium sized bag, and brought out a small stone vial, which he then handed to the still reeling elf. "Here, take a sip of this. It will burn going down, but it will also clear your head."
Now to the fighting. He looked around the room one more time, locating his enemies and would-be allies, then strode forward, pounding toward the center of the room, against the fleeing crowd of people. Many of the assassins seem to be disappearing when killed. This is probably a variation of some ind of summoning skill, with the spellcaster creating mirror images of himself, that can interact with the physical world. When they are struck hard enough, they simply disappear, since they do not have true physical bodies. The trick then, is to find the real one, who is most likely hiding somewhere, or being guarded by his copies. Tronfros figured the best way to help the others find the real assassins was to draw the fake ones to him. After all that's what he was good at.
He stopped about 30 yards from the main group of assassins. He drew in his breath, then let out a giant bellow, pounding his chest and waving his horns, daring them to attack him. He stepped forward and roared again as some of them turned in his direction. He had got their attention now. As several of them charged, he took a deep breath, his eyes glowing faintly blue. He then exhaled through his nose, two sparkling jets of frozen air erupting downward from his nostrils and into his waiting hands. As the assassins closed the distance and were nearly to him, he planted one foot behind him and thrust both arms forward, palms open wide, sending a wall of icy blue air into the oncoming attackers, slowing them almost to a stop.
TAG: Waiting Room peeps, especially Tiki
Outskirts of Kalgorith
IC: Eisicin Lizaeus
Sighing, Eisicin spoke in a rather annoyed tone toward Seaster.
"We were born on this god-forsaken continent, as a god-forsaken species," he said.
"Have you known a safe moment in your life?"
Although he felt no remorse for damaging Seaster, he did not know if Seaster would know the etiquette of the chain of command that he and fellow slaves knew.
"I see you didn't take the hit too harshly," he said in a softer tone as he followed Seaster.
"During my time working under the damned Kobolds, that was how we communicated. Through violence. Our 'masters' wouldn't have had it any other way. One disobeyment, and we were forced to attack our brothers, else we all would be much more severely flogged," he stopped for a breath, and then continued. The memories were painful.
"I tell you this, for I still do not know your past. Were you a slave, like myself?"
After a moment of silence, he spoke in a lower tone.
"Know that wherever you came from or whatever your purpose, we are still brothers of our race, and must work together to survive. One day, if Ulari smiles upon our efforts, we will live quiter, easier lives."
Eisicin made reference to Ulari, the deity in which some Under-elves worshipped solely. Eisicin was deeply religious, always trying to gain the favor of his god. He knew not the religious beliefs of the others in his group, nor did he much care. That was their business.
Quieting down, Seaster withdrew his bow and strung an arrow as he proceeded after Forst, ready to strike at any time. Magic flowed through his fingers, eager for action.
TAG: Tiki
IC: Eisicin Lizaeus
Sighing, Eisicin spoke in a rather annoyed tone toward Seaster.
"We were born on this god-forsaken continent, as a god-forsaken species," he said.
"Have you known a safe moment in your life?"
Although he felt no remorse for damaging Seaster, he did not know if Seaster would know the etiquette of the chain of command that he and fellow slaves knew.
"I see you didn't take the hit too harshly," he said in a softer tone as he followed Seaster.
"During my time working under the damned Kobolds, that was how we communicated. Through violence. Our 'masters' wouldn't have had it any other way. One disobeyment, and we were forced to attack our brothers, else we all would be much more severely flogged," he stopped for a breath, and then continued. The memories were painful.
"I tell you this, for I still do not know your past. Were you a slave, like myself?"
After a moment of silence, he spoke in a lower tone.
"Know that wherever you came from or whatever your purpose, we are still brothers of our race, and must work together to survive. One day, if Ulari smiles upon our efforts, we will live quiter, easier lives."
Eisicin made reference to Ulari, the deity in which some Under-elves worshipped solely. Eisicin was deeply religious, always trying to gain the favor of his god. He knew not the religious beliefs of the others in his group, nor did he much care. That was their business.
Quieting down, Seaster withdrew his bow and strung an arrow as he proceeded after Forst, ready to strike at any time. Magic flowed through his fingers, eager for action.
TAG: Tiki
The Arena - Waiting Room
IC: Olm
A grey minotaur had helped him up, and handled him a small stone vial to drink. Its taste was herbal, but with a burning sensation. He stumbled upward, with renewed strength, then holding his ears to a deafening roar behind him. The assailants charged forward at the beast, daggers drawn. It was only then that he realized that they all strode with elegance. Without
fault. Without limping. Without a gash in their side that hampered all but one of the dark figures.
The assailants ran straight into a blizzard storm, erasing them from existance. The four were then replaced by four more clones, as black smoke puffed out of one of them, simeoultaneous with the one near the girl. That assailant ceased his stumbling and became battle ready to clash with the human girl.
TAG: Yorgmiester, Fatscalyman, Tirin, ae86gamer
********************
Outskirts of Kalgorith
The cavern sides were reinforced with the bones of the dead; ogre, kobold, troll, and human alike. Many held wooden shields and iron swords, ready to fight even after Morte, god of death, had taken them away to his world.
The cavern ended with a spiral staircase, made of polished emerald. The path was well lit by topaz, embedded in the marble walls and on torch sticks, magically enchanted to shine like candles. The cavern was only audible by the hollowing breeze that came down the staircase. A hollow almost like the moans of death and warding.
TAG: Fatscalyman
IC: Olm
A grey minotaur had helped him up, and handled him a small stone vial to drink. Its taste was herbal, but with a burning sensation. He stumbled upward, with renewed strength, then holding his ears to a deafening roar behind him. The assailants charged forward at the beast, daggers drawn. It was only then that he realized that they all strode with elegance. Without
fault. Without limping. Without a gash in their side that hampered all but one of the dark figures.
The assailants ran straight into a blizzard storm, erasing them from existance. The four were then replaced by four more clones, as black smoke puffed out of one of them, simeoultaneous with the one near the girl. That assailant ceased his stumbling and became battle ready to clash with the human girl.
TAG: Yorgmiester, Fatscalyman, Tirin, ae86gamer
********************
Outskirts of Kalgorith
The cavern sides were reinforced with the bones of the dead; ogre, kobold, troll, and human alike. Many held wooden shields and iron swords, ready to fight even after Morte, god of death, had taken them away to his world.
The cavern ended with a spiral staircase, made of polished emerald. The path was well lit by topaz, embedded in the marble walls and on torch sticks, magically enchanted to shine like candles. The cavern was only audible by the hollowing breeze that came down the staircase. A hollow almost like the moans of death and warding.
TAG: Fatscalyman
The Arena - Waiting Room - Just Outside the Door
IC: Terath D'Arigan
Terath leaned against the wall outside the waiting room and made an abortive move to take a drink from his tankard. Frowning into the depths he saw no beer, so he shrugged and hung the tankard from his belt.
The whistling roar of some battle-cast spell crashed through the room beyond the door. Terath cocked his head to the side as he listened to the sounds of combat. Those assassins, or whatever they were...those guys were weird. Dressed in black wrappings, vanishing into black smoke like that, that was fell magic indeed. Terath didn't much like magic. Magic tricked the eyes and the hands, making the unreal real and nightmare reality. With something solid, like, say, a gigantic slavering monster, you knew where to shoot. You could blast away until there was nothing left but a reeking smear on the ground. Magic? Not so much. With magic you had to take out the mage, and there was no telling where he'd be.
...wait a minute...
Black.
Black clothes, black smoke.
Black Dusk.
Coincidence? Probably. But Terath was drunk out of his skull and had gold shining in his mind's eye and wasn't about to question his brilliant deduction. What he needed now was to capture one of them. They'd tell him where the rest of the Black Dusk were, he'd go in loaded for bear, and then someone would give him a huge pile of gold. It was a perfect plan.
He scrambled to his feet, swayed for a moment, and tripped while trying to grab the pieces of a disassembled crossbow from the pockets of his coat. He lay there for a while, trying to find the final and vital screw.
TAG: Tiki
IC: Terath D'Arigan
Terath leaned against the wall outside the waiting room and made an abortive move to take a drink from his tankard. Frowning into the depths he saw no beer, so he shrugged and hung the tankard from his belt.
The whistling roar of some battle-cast spell crashed through the room beyond the door. Terath cocked his head to the side as he listened to the sounds of combat. Those assassins, or whatever they were...those guys were weird. Dressed in black wrappings, vanishing into black smoke like that, that was fell magic indeed. Terath didn't much like magic. Magic tricked the eyes and the hands, making the unreal real and nightmare reality. With something solid, like, say, a gigantic slavering monster, you knew where to shoot. You could blast away until there was nothing left but a reeking smear on the ground. Magic? Not so much. With magic you had to take out the mage, and there was no telling where he'd be.
...wait a minute...
Black.
Black clothes, black smoke.
Black Dusk.
Coincidence? Probably. But Terath was drunk out of his skull and had gold shining in his mind's eye and wasn't about to question his brilliant deduction. What he needed now was to capture one of them. They'd tell him where the rest of the Black Dusk were, he'd go in loaded for bear, and then someone would give him a huge pile of gold. It was a perfect plan.
He scrambled to his feet, swayed for a moment, and tripped while trying to grab the pieces of a disassembled crossbow from the pockets of his coat. He lay there for a while, trying to find the final and vital screw.
TAG: Tiki