An RP in the World of Avernum
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| Author | Topic: An RP in the World of Avernum |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Wednesday, December 31 2003 13:16
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OOC: With Vida, Kevin and Sol all wanting my head, I can’t really afford to be knocked out now, sorry. Besides, the scuffle thing indicated already that he's still there. Taron had a natural tendency towards paranoia. Not unusual in his trade. Dark caverns, the occasional monsters – getting rarer, but still very much extant on Pralgrad in this day and age –, magic traps, things out to kill you… It eventually got to an adventurer, especially if he fought alone. And thus, he had developed an unerring instinct for whenever something was about to attack him. Not very bloody useful though, he thought – for what must have been the hundredth time in his life, if not more – as, just a second after a sharp tingle went down his spine, a heavy thud rang in his ears and a dull pain exploded in his head. Anyone else not wearing a helmet – no bow, no helmet, no combat spells..., the inner voice admonished once again – would have been knocked unconscious, but Taron had a thick skull, as anyone who had ever argued with him would have quickly pointed out. As it happened, he was slightly dazed, his head ringing like a bell, but he was conscious, and would remain so. Quickly, the possible reactions rattled through his head, still only seconds after he had received the stone on the head. Activate the Doomguard? Linda had told him to do so if there was trouble, and if this wasn't, then he didn't want to feel *real* trouble hit him on the head. No, something in him reasoned. Not without warning the others, and this did not seem to come from the guards, so it wasn't the type of trouble the doomguard was for. What remained was to duck away before he'd be hit again, and see who it was who so desperately desired to do damage to his cerebrum. He reached for his dagger, but the attacker, obviously unprepared for him not being knocked out, dropped onto him and the scuffle started. Taron thought about shouting out, but the guards and Ironclad must not know he was here with the golem ready to strike. He struck back viciously. Taron was not strong, almost scrawny to be exact, but he was not bad in a streetbrawl. Nor was the other one seemingly — sailors weren't as a rule. He must ensure the Doomguard remained in place, and he also had to take care no one noticed him. Things were going to get tricky, just as Taron managed to hit his opponent's head on the side with his knuckle. Breathing out soundlessly, the sailor collapsed. Bound to be more here, I'll bet the whole crew we took on back at the SAFT are infiltrators. Damn Linda and her naive trustingness. -------------------- Nasty trickster stalking the web! 406 victims! " "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. The Encyclopædia Ermariana is growing. ;) Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Wednesday, December 31 2003 13:24
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Hearing the struggle on the streets, Linda's mind raced through the ways to take advantage. "My Liege... Listen to that... That is the sound of assassins, attempting to kill you, or to take from me the boon I was about to provide you with. Come with us quickly, or do not come with us at all!" Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Wednesday, December 31 2003 16:52
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After having stayed in the inn recuperating for a full day, Petoria and Belmont go out into the city. Belmont walks about in a daze, studying the buildings made of stone and their sheer size. When they reach a building larger and grander in architecture than the rest, Petoria tells him to stay outside. The building is some 65 feet long, three stories tall, and is made of exquisite marble. Upon entering the building, she can see that the inside is furnished very elegantly with potted plants, plaster-covered walls, and oak furniture. The first room is that of the mayor's secretary. The secretary sits at an oak desk with her back to Petoria, writing on a piece of parchment. The secretary is totally engrossed in her work and doesn't notice her when she comes in. Tapping her on the shoulder, the secretary shoots out of her chair with fright. Secretary: "Oh!!! Dear me! You scared me half to death! I guess I was too engrossed in my work. Anyway...can I help you?" Petoria: "Yes. I am Petoria Carmine. A local potion maker. I came to see the mayor. Is he in?" Secretary: Yes. One moment. I'll let him know you are here." The secretary goes up some stairs off tot heleft of the room and comes back a minute later with a man following directly behind her. He is a tall man with a bushy brown beard and is dressed like the average bureaucrat. The secretary sits back down and the man directs Petoria to a door at the right side of the room. Inside is an average looking room with an oak desk and two chairs in front of it. The man sits down in the chair behind the desk and Petoria sits down in one of the two chairs in front of it. Mayor: "So Petoria, I hear that you were the one that reported the massacre on the other side of the mountain. This war is becoming more and more horrible every day. We have sent men over there ot get started on burying the dead. Now, what did you want to see me about?" Petoria: "Well, Mayor Flagstaff, I wanted to know what the current war stats are. Are there any new developments?" Mayor Flagstaff: "As a matter of fact, there are. I received word a few hours ago, that Gideon Ironclad has been exiled from his capital and his armies are depleted. The Kylens now possess his capital. But we have a new problem arising. One that could spell the end for aristocracy, as we know it! It is something that could bring ultimate peace to Pralgrad eventually...or even spell its doom." Petoria: "Well what is it already man?! Speak!" Mayor Flagstaff: "Well. To tell you the truth, it’s the people of Pralgrad itself! They are banding together and calling themselves the Populist Republicans. A weird name I know, but their idea is to let the people govern the land by appointing officials to rule Pralgrad, instead of letting an emperor or king rule it by bloodline." Petoria: "An intriguing idea, I must say. Hmmm. The Prophecy could go either way with that." Mayor Flagstaff: "The Prophecy?" Petoria: "Oh, sorry. Nothing. I was thinking aloud to myself. Any update on the Solarans or SAFT, or that strange mage?" Mayor Flagstaff: "Well, I have some concerning the Solarans. I heard talk that they have teamed up with some of the Kylens and have begun attacking cities in which the Populist ideas have taken hold. What's more, I hear that they have resorted to massacring the entire populations of those cities as well." Petoria: "Those damn brutes!!! All they think about is bringing power to themselves! How can anyone just kill like that?! Kill innocent men, women, and children without mercy! That is just barbarous." Mayor Flagstaff: "Precisely my point. I am considering changing our city over to this Populist Republican idea. However, the thought of mass killing does not appeal to me. So we plan to just be neutral for a while until things calm down." Petoria: "That appears to be a very wise decision. Now how about this SAFT. Anything going on with them?" Mayor Flagstaff: "I have heard very little. But rumor has it that a Doomguard was in the cargo of one of their ships. It ended up in the possession of the Solarans until Ironclad sympathizers, of all people, stole it. It has since then disappeared and could be anywhere, which scares me. Petoria: "And what about that mysterious mage that passed the city and went into enemy lands?" Mayor Flagstaff: "Unfortunately, we have no news as of yet. But we will let you know if we have any more." Petoria: "Well, thanks for the info. I want to let you know that my services alchemically, mentally, and physically are at your disposal if you need them. I am off now to see if I can get any information from a friend of mine that was injured in the massacre on the other side of the mountain. Good day mayor." With that, she exits the room and goes back outside. Belmont is watching a conjurer at work and is amazed at his abilities. He is shaken out of his trance by Petoria. Petoria: "Come. We must check up on Burlap." They both hurry off to where Teri has her makeshift hospital." [ Wednesday, December 31, 2003 16:56: Message edited by: Sherlock Holmes - MSW ] -------------------- "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!" - Sherlock Holmes Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep, two corpses, everthing's fine." "What do you think I asked you here for? COMPANY?!!!" - Bette Davis Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3377
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written Wednesday, December 31 2003 19:08
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Two of the largest, burliest Sailors Taron had ever seen stepped between him and the Doomguard. They engaged him quickly in a streetbrawl that had him backing up for space to fight. A streetgang came then, the oldest thief looking to be no older than twelve, and busied themselves around the Doomguard under the direction of another Sailor. In short order they began hauling the thing away while the two bruisers kept Taron occupied. Crandall hastened to reach Gideon through the ranks of bodyguards. "Sir!" he hissed. "Come back to the ship! We must leave immediately." His eyes were wide. The archer-captain – first mate, really – was looking to the side. One of the Sailor's in Linda's retinue crouched behind the partial cover of a woodstack, his hands weaving in an intricate system of gestures that told Crandall all he needed to know. The secure channel had been breached. Damn the Cap'n! Not once, but twice, for he saw now that Vida would not have authorized the meeting between Linda and Gideon. The mage's words were proof enough of that. "Sir," he tried again. "We've been compromised. I must get you back to safety." Crandall hesitated. He had no way to prove Linda's allegations of SAFT treachery false in the time he had. He could only hope that Gideon had seen enough of him to know his character. "I'll take you wherever you wish to go, but we must leave now." He gestured discreetly with his fingers. The Sailor contact nodded and faded back into the alley. _____________________ The farrier looked up, squinting into the deep pool of shadow at the entrance made by the banked fire at his back. "Can I help you?" The visitor spoke. "Sailor." The farrier stepped back, suddenly aware of the large bag of gold stashed beneath one loose flagstone. The garotte snapped tight around his neck. _____________________ Solaran ships under the captaincy of SAFT held the Gulf and the southern coast of Solaran territory. SAFT ships passed through their lines unconcernedly, bearing trade goods in and out of the cities. And if their departing holds were full of Populist refugees and organisers with the means to buy passage, they were but another item that did not concern Sol. Posts: 356 | Registered: Saturday, August 23 2003 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 11:44
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The ship construction had not slowed under the threat of Populist rebellion. The Easton shipyards began churning out frigates under the exclusive control of the Solarans. Jehan Sol relaxed his town-razing decree earlier in the day, declaring that anyone who submitted to the mercy of the Solaran Empire would be spared, along with their family. The ranks of the remaining Populist cities were decimated, and after the men gave themselves up, the people remaining in the cities, along with the cities themselves, were again razed to the ground. The ability to control his territory gained Jehan Sol respect among the people of Solaria and its outskirts, as they put down Kylen and Ironclad, who were in shambles and at the mercy of the people. Being secure and able to continue with daily life made them appreciate the lengths Sol went to to protect them, and they felt no sympathy for the Populists. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 14:22
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Gideon Ironclad, now standing behind a human wall of SAFT sailors and Imperial soldiers, thought frantically. If he went with Linda, he stood a good chance of being killed. Maybe the Populists would take him, maybe they wouldn't. He understood that they needed a figurehead, and that he could not sink any lower, anyway. He still had Ironclad loyalists spread throughout the continent, and a concentration of them in the south, and on the island to the north. With the Populists, he could gain enough power to reunite with his loyal subjects, and then restore himself to the throne; the Populists might have control, but he had to admit, they would be better than his council. On the other hand, his people would probably not appreciate his alliance with these rebelling peasants. Vida now had reason to hate the Solarans, as many of her customers had been killed in Sol's Populist purge, and many towns and docks burned and destroyed. As rumor had it, he was told, Kylen would outlaw the SAFT if he became Emperor; even Vida had to admit that the pirate accusations were not entirely unbased. The SAFT would not support any Emperor, not without money; but prices could be changed, loans could be lent, and, more importantly, soldiers could be transported. Gideon Ironclad did not ignore the all-too-real threat of captivity in a SAFT dungeon, but, in war, risks must be taken. Warily watching the struggle in the darkness, Gideon Ironclad stepped forward. "I will go with the SAFT." "Fool," hissed Linda, turning from the dock. "Wait," said Gideon Ironclad, in the most commanding voice he had ever managed. Surprised, Linda turned back. "What?" "That does not make us enemies," said the Emperor. "It does not even separate us, neccesarily. I do not pretend to know everything that is going on in my empire, but I do know this: much could be gained by an alliiance of my loyalists, your rebels, and these sailors. Just remember, gold excuses anything. I will not forget this, any of it; I will talk to Vida." Linda shook her head slightly and turned around again. "Good luck," Gideon Ironclad said. He turned and began walking back to the ship, his guards behind him. By the time they were back on deck, they were at a dead run. The sailors from the dock came up with them, and the ship began to move immediately. "You did the right thing, sir," said Crandall, beside him. "Vida does not mean to harm you, trust me. And if these Populists can help you, well, so much the better. It is the middle of the night, sir. You should get some sleep." "Not yet, archer. First, you have a bit of explaining to do," replied the Emperor. -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon TEH CONSPIRACY IZ ALL Les forum de la chance. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 14:42
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Furious, Linda ran through the docks, trying to meet up with her remaining men. Gideon may have his nice words, but in the end, he is still too stubborn, too set in the old ways to realise how things must challenge. After a while, she reached where Taron was meant to be. Nobody there, and no sign of the doomguard. She paused, frozen in terror. There was one of those... things free in the city now, very likely in the hands of those who would abuse its power. It was certain now that it would be used, or worse copied and then employed in a mad endless war. She had failed. Taron seemed to have abandoned her - and perhaps he was smart to have done so. Unless... There was still hope. The populists... they still had power, and perhaps they can see sense. With good leaders, they can be a real force. She will go to them, alone and weak, and plead with the people of Praglad. The madness of the emperors, the madness of the war, and the doomguard, it can still be stopped. She was unsure where she was now. A tavern nearby was filled with laughter and drunken song, but she did not know who frequented such places. A line of shops was in front, and the docks behind. A nearby potion shop caught her eye, but not for long. A crossbow bolt thudded into her shoulder. By the time her brain registered the hit, she was already on the slick cobbled street, feeling for the fletchings on her back. No way to guage the damage. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she crawled forward, trying to get to safety. One step, then another. She slipped again, and fell once more to the ground. The darkness of the streets gave way to another, engulfing one. OOC: Ok, time for Taron's test of allegiance. I'm thinking he either saves her, fighting off the unnamed assailiant, or someone else does. Or the assailiant gets distracted or something. Or Taron could be the assailiant... Your choice... Is Pretoria's shop meant to be anywhere around here? (If so, then that's the shop Linda notices) Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 16:43
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OOC: No, he's obviously not. :P It seems to be his crossbow though, since she's immediately unconcscious. Oh yes, Taron is still with the two sailors and the doomguard at the moment. IC: ___________________________________________________ At least not another surprise attack, went through Taron's mind as he readied his dagger, ready to kill this time. One burly sailor could be quieted with a quick punch to the head, but two at once required stronger measures. He was retreating, seeking both higher, darker and narrower ground. The way he stood now, the two assailants could attack him from two sides at once, a tactical disadvantage. His mind registered the thief band slowly hauling off the doomguard. Nothing to be done about it now. He could not hope to chase off the thief band, the third sailor and his assailants simultaneously, especially as the two kept pushing him further and further from the doomguard. Just then, a thought hit his head. Magic, fool! The voice sounded again. He could not fight with it, but he could damn well keep an eye on the doomguard. In a manner of speaking, anyway. He muttered a few words under his breath, and gestured toward the doomguard with one hand and fixed its image inside his head. You had to touch the object in question normally, but with some imagination and concentration it worked over a distance as well. Now, as long as the thieves did not get too far — unlikely in the short time, since it worked over several miles — he would be able to pinpoint its approximate location without any additional spellcasting. He already felt a light tug inside his head pulling him toward the alleyway the thieves were just moving into. The two sailors had drawn back apprehensively and were hesitating. This could work. Taron continued to gesture menacingly as if forming an energy bolt or similar, the sailors watching worriedly, not knowing about his inability. Just then, he half shouted the formula for the light spell, bringing his hands down in a cutting gesture. A harmless sphere of light flew a short distance, and the sailors jumped aside. As they were distracted, Taron practically flew on top of one of them and killed him with a swift stab to the heart. That would be the first kill in... wow, two years, he thought, just as an arrow narrowly missed his left ear and another stone hit his back. He was badly outnumbered, it seemed. Watching for more stones and looking around for cover, he completely neglected to keep an eye on the other sailor, who was advancing on him with a cudgel from behind. A muffled thud later, Taron was sleeping soundly. ___________________________________________________ Taron woke up and, like so many others in his situation, wished he hadn't. His head did not seem about to split up, or filled with liquid stone. It felt like a hundred stonecutters had been chipping away at his skull using toothpicks as chisels. Nevertheless, he managed to get up, shake his head and look at his surroundings. He was lying on a trashheap in a small side street. He did not know how much time had passed, but it was still dark, so he could not have been out too long. Determined to be more careful this time, Taron set out again. He wished he could just stay on the trash heap and get a good sleep after this beating, but he had to warn the others. There were a lot of traitors still out there, and they would be able to badly maul the remaining group if they were caught unawares. He felt for his dagger and his crossbow. Both had been taken from him. Bad and worse. The crossbow would be able to knock out anyone with even the smallest scratch for a few minutes, and a full hit for the better part of half an hour. A slight tingle went down his spine, but he was ready this time. Hah! he thought triumphantly as he dived to the ground, a crossbow bolt of familiar design clanging against the cobbles next to him. At least he knew where it was now. He ran to cover, but the assailant seemed to have lost interest. Taron watched the man running over the rooftops in full moonlight ? amateur! ? seemingly having seen an important target. A small shout of surprise and/or pain was audible, in a voice he almost, but not quite recognized over the distance. He was already running toward the source before he recognized it as Linda's. He turned around another corner, and saw both the attacker and her. The man had just climbed down a drain and was walking toward her crumpled form with a drawn dagger. This was no sailor. It was a soldier. A mercenary, Taron realized as he stepped out of the shadow and his garb became more visible. An expletive crossed his lips silently. The SAFT was throwing everything they'd got at them. So this was the test. Taron had known it would come eventually, as soon as he realized Linda was plotting treason. The choice was simple. He could hold off the man who was obviously going to kill her, or he could keep away and let him stab her with his own dagger. Taron considered. To save her would be treason. Irreversibly. He would aid a traitor knowingly, thus bringing the fault on himself. To let her be killed would be... Taron searched for a word. Not treason, but certainly treachery. She had trusted him. It would also be extremely ungrateful, Taron supposed. She had got him out of Vida's captivity, without any advantage to herself; she had enough fighters. Besides, Taron did not know what to do once she was killed. Own up to the Solaran? Madness. He'd either be killed or captured, and Sol was not likely to forgive his treason just on account of him not having saved Linda. A traitor either way. But not dishonored. He decided, even as he picked up a loose cobblestone, and took aim. He was an archer after all... ___________________________________________________ The man was lying dead on the street, blood slowly leaking from his mouth. Taron's stone had broken his skull. Taron was moving quickly now. The crossbow bolt was coated in a sleeping potion, but that did not mean it wasn't deadly if aimed correctly. Moreover, the accuracy of the hit would determine how long Linda was out. She was lying on her side, and so he immediately saw that the bolt had buried itself into her shoulder up to the fletching. Another, more dirty expletive exploded from his mouth even as he removed the bolt ? which was easy as the bolt was not manufactured to stick in, but went out smoothly. There were Solarans and SAFT people about who wanted them both dead, the doomguard was being stolen, and Linda would be unconscious for at least twenty minutes, if not an hour, depending on her resiliency. Taron was scrawny, and he knew he could not carry the mage. Attempting to drag her carefully by the shoulders, he slowly moved toward a door by the side, quickly making up a short story about an assault by street bandits that he would tell to the housekeeper he would ask for shelter. OOC: There, how's that? Oh yes, and if Petoria's shop is in the vicinity, then it's the door Taron knocks at. [ Saturday, January 03, 2004 06:49: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- Nasty trickster stalking the web! 406 victims! " "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. The Encyclopædia Ermariana is growing. ;) Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 17:27
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Belmont and Petoria make their way through the streets until the come upon a very long building with simple architecture. It is at least 100 feet long and is two stories tall. This is obviously a hospital Belmont thinks to himself. As they enter, they can see that the entire room is lined with beds from one end to the other on both sides. Directly in front of them is an oak desk and behind that is a staircase leading to the second floor. There are at least 30 beds on each side of the room with a wooden cabinet in between each one, the room being at least 40 feet wide. There are several nurses attending patients and pumps here and there in the room for water. Petoria turns her attention to the ragged looking woman behind the desk in front of her. She has black hair, green robes, and dark skin. The woman looks up from her parchment to the people standing before her and seeing Petoria, stops abruptly to talk. Teri: "Oh, hello Petoria. I haven't seen you in ages. What brings you to Turin?" Petoria: "Hello, Teri. I came here to bring in my shipment of potions because of…. well…you know why I am here already." Teri: "Yes, I do. Quite a mess we have to clean up on the other side of the mountain. Thanks for letting us know about it. Oh, I am sure you want to know about Burlap." Petoria: "Quite." Teri: "Well, he is doing much better. I managed to reverse the gangrene in his wounds and he is healing very nicely." Petoria: "That's great to hear. Is he awake? Can we see him?" Teri: "Yeah. He's awake. I have no problem with you seeing him. He's on the second floor. I'm sure you can find him without my help." Petoria: "Thanks. Come on Belmont." They head to the second floor and enter a room exactly like the one they just left. The only difference is that only half of the beds are filled and there are fewer nurses. They start looking through the wounded and soon find Burlap, who is sitting up in bed eating some food. When he sees them, he starts smiling and can't contain his joy. Burlap: "Petoria!!! Aye, but gods am I glad to see you! You saved my life! I owe you big time for that. Who’s your friend?" Petoria: "That's quite ok. I couldn't just leave you there. This is Belmont. He is my new assistant." Burlap: "Assistant huh? Well, I still owe you. Both of you. However, that's not what you came here for. You want to know what happened to me, right?" Belmont: “Well, we wanted to make sure you were okay.” Petoria: "Yes. But now that you brought it up, what did happen to you?" Burlap: "Well. While I was going down the other side of the mountain about six days ago, some thieves suddenly ambushed me. The wheel of my cart slipped on a rock placed in the road, most likely by them, and broke. They then came out from behind some trees and shot arrows at me. I jumped out of the cart and was hit by two of their arrows. Then they came after me with rocks and knocked me out. I woke up a few minutes later to the sound of a loud boom a distance down the mountain. And soon after that, I heard the sound of a horse approaching. Fearing the thieves were coming back, I played dead and watched as a mage dressed in dark robes rode passed on my horse and disappeared. I crawled to my cart after all fell quiet, grabbed my provisions, and crawled to the outcrop of rocks in case the thieves came back. Then I blacked out until I woke up here." Petoria: "Did you notice anything odd about the mage? Anything at all?" Burlap: "Well, I couldn't see the mage's face because of the hood. As he passed me, he slowed down and looked me over. I didn't move a muscle as he was doing that. I didn't even blink. He soon left, satisfied that I was dead or close to death. I did notice that despite how bright the sunlight was, his face was hidden. I only saw the silver reflection of his eyes." Petoria: "Silver reflection did you say? And no view of his face despite the sunlight? Hmmm. That sounds very familiar. But I can't think from where. Oh well. It will come to me eventually. Well. We'll leave you to your recuperation, Burlap. Bye." Burlap: "See you soon." With that, Belmont and Petoria leave the hospital. They head back to the inn to relax for a while and think. -------------------- "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!" - Sherlock Holmes Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep, two corpses, everthing's fine." "What do you think I asked you here for? COMPANY?!!!" - Bette Davis Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 17:54
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Petoria's hovel is out in the countryside, not in a town. She does have a shop in Turin that she rarely uses because of her Guardian duty of the vault. I was assuming that she is in a different town from everyone else. Do you all want to make that town, Turin. If so, I will have to change some of the details surrounding my posts concerning Turin. For example, the lake would have to become a sea or a river connecting with the bodies of water surrounding Pralgrad. I am a glutton for details. If the details don't add up, the story won't make sense. It’s the choice of the people here if you want to make the port town and Turin one in the same. If so, I will make the appropriate changes to my posts. If not, find someone to own up to the shop instead of me. I won't have my character appear in two different places at one time. -------------------- "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!" - Sherlock Holmes Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep, two corpses, everthing's fine." "What do you think I asked you here for? COMPANY?!!!" - Bette Davis Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Thursday, January 1 2004 18:29
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Things can change with the smallest detail. Consider, for example, Jilem of Bortho. You needn't remember his name or that of his village -- history certainly won't. However, Jilem's life has been shaped by a series of events as fickle as the sea. He was once a farmer, but the slightest accident brought him into the Imperial city to be executed. That was years ago. Had the civil war happened any earlier, had any of the legion of factors that caused the capture of Imperius not happened, Jilem would be long dead. As was, Kylen captured the city. But he didn't capture Jilem, no -- the Imperial High Court fled Imperius as quickly as the rest of Ironclad's backers. And they took Jilem with them. They would have reached the Ironclad capital, too, if it hadn't been for the right army hitting the High Court at just the right time. Jilem survived for years in the backwoods of central Pralgrad, playing one group of guerillas against the other for years while trying to find a way home. He finally did, one fine summer day when the Populists rose. They burned Bortho to ashes; they burned many little villages to conscript their apathetic peasants, but they blamed the nearest Imperial successor. Kylen. Had he died in the woods, or had he come to Bortho and died or been conscripted by force, none of this would have happened. Now he was an expert in the Populist Army. An expert on assassination. And his mission today took him into Kylen's palace on business, under an assumed name and identity. There exist two ways that things could have come out: had the hatchet moved one inch either way, Kylen would have survived -- he wouldn't see next year, but he'd have survived long enough to keep the Kylenians alive for the worst. The Populists would have swallowed the Kylenian faction from the inside out, and then nothing, not even Jehan Sol, would have saved Pralgad from the early republic. The first Chairman would have quickly made himself an Imperial-scale tyrant, suspending elections, suspending the courts, hanging Ironclad, Sol, and every nobleman and general from trees within a few bloody years. The Purge would leave a weaker but intensely loyal Pralgrad -- one which wouldn't snap like a twig when Warderson landed. They hanged Warderson from a tree, too; the regime lasted a few more Chairmen before collapsing into a dark age which lasted many centuries and set back Ermarian civilization for millenia. The hatchet found its mark. Kylen didn't last the day, but at least he outlived Jilem of Bortho. And had General Hugo not arrived with a guerilla army in Imperius moments before, who knows what would have happened to the Empire? ... [ Thursday, January 01, 2004 18:31: Message edited by: USA-se Xenerali-boariku CUSITURA ] -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Shaper
Member # 22
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written Friday, January 2 2004 03:46
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Londar began his meal, a small portion of dried meat (not that he could expect any better - this was the army and this was a ship), chewing every bite carefully and methodically. This was how he ate most of the time - eating slowly, while thinking on the day's events. The word was that they were heading back to Pralgad. Civil war was breaking out there - and his army would have to throw their weight behind one faction or another. The whole thing stunk of politics, and if there was one thing Londar had learned to despise, it was politics. It was one of the reasons he had never been promoted very far through the army - he couldn't stand the petty rivalries and arguments that tended to be rife among the upper ranks. From what he heard, the most likely alliances were to be either with the Solarans or Kylens - they had both offered them dominion over Aizo (which they would have had anyway, he thought bitterly, if they had never left). The Ironclads had yet to make an offer - but they were being overrun. He knew little about any of the factions and found he did not care. Fighting his own people, whatever faction they were in, had not been what he'd signed up for. He wasn't sure he wanted to be part of this civil war. -------------------- KazeArctica: "Imagine...wangs everywhere...and tentacles. Nothing but wangs and tentacles! And no pants!" Posts: 2862 | Registered: Tuesday, October 2 2001 07:00 |
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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Friday, January 2 2004 03:55
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OOC: A new map:  IC: General Frederic was aware of the large troop movement to the north on White Peak Island and relayed a message to the Solaran superiors in Easton. Within a week, the newly outfitted and SAFT-independent ships began to actively patrol the Gulf of Jazen, staying close to Easton and the Solaran troops on the opposite side, protecting Solaran interests. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 2242
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written Friday, January 2 2004 09:09
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Captain Kevin rode silently next to Sergeant Lincoln. "This is the town where the two were last spotted," said Kevin. "They should be here with the Doomguard. We need to get it back.""I have a plan," said the Captain,"I'll take troops from both of our units and surround the town. You take two of my elites and ferret the traitors out. Good luck," Lincoln shouted in a gruff voice as he turned to round up the troops. Two elite guards rode up to Kevin, and the three entered the town and dismounted; the horses turned and returned to the others. The rest of this mission would be on foot. "Alright, keep your eyes open. They don't know we're looking for them. They carefully looked around. They would find the traitors. -------------------- "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster... when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes back into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, November 14 2002 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Friday, January 2 2004 10:58
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OOC: Linda's unconscious, Petoria's in another town, and Solarans are searching for us. On that note, I'd best edit that stuff in my last post about the Solaran soldier; a soldier wouldn't work together with the SAFT, and also wouldn't resort to Taron's own weaponry since he'd have plenty himself. So it's a mercenary/assassin hired by Vida now. IC: Taron was out of breath from the strain of half-carrying, half-dragging Linda to the side of the street. They were being hunted by both the Solarans and the SAFT. The SAFT were no problem; they hired mercenaries which would be loyal to gold and their own hide. The Solarans on the other hand had a good intelligence network and intensely loyal fighters — among whom you counted yourself not long ago, his conscience reminded him. It would not be long at all until Solaran assassins were filching the whole city for them; they might not even have a day. Taron thought about how to get away. The Solarans would certainly surround the city before entering it. But it was a coast city, and they might be able to sneak out on a ship. Not many non-SAFT ships here though... He was about to knock on the door when he noticed a strange tug close by from somewhere further along the road. It took him a while to remember the Doomguard. No way I can carry a ton and a half golem AND a mage, no sir. Let alone the SAFT people guarding it. He would have to ignore it for now. Just then, there seemed to be a slight commotion. People shouting muffledly, one distinguishable as "There's the thing! Get it, they must be somewhere close by!" ((OOC: Some of Kevin's elites have stumbled on the thief band moving the doomguard. They're NPCs, so nothing wrong with controlling them. :P )) ___________________________________________________ A very old man in a cowl opened the door an inch, holding a loaded crossbow in the other hand. In these times, you were very careful to see for whom you opened your door, especially at night. The lightly armored man and the unconscious woman immediately identifiable as a mage by her robe seemed to reassure him slightly. No street gang or group of soldiers come to raid his house. "What do you want?" Taron spun a likely tale about two cutthroats who had assaulted them in the road while they were going to the potions shop next door. He had managed to kill one of the villains with a stone to the head &mdash he gestured behind him at the corpse still lying some ten meters down the road — but the other one had been able to shoot a crossbow at his companion, knocking her out. The man looked very suspiciously at Taron, then behind him to see if there was an ambush waiting. Eventually he beckoned. "Come in, come in." the old man closed the door behind them and put away his crossbow. He helped Taron to carry Linda to a small couch. "Curious. That is hardly a wound one would faint from, I should say." "The bolt, ah, was probably, mmh, coated in something. Sleeping poison. Or something." Taron said, not cery convincingly. "Ah." the old man uttered neutrally. Then he made a tentative step forward, and a took off his cowl. He had a snow-white hair and a matching beard. His left hand gesturing at Linda lying on the couch, he muttered and closed his eyes. Linda stirred, then groaned. A wizard! Or at least, a healer. ((ooc: Linda's awake now, fyi, FZ) "And now tell me who you are running from, mercenary. How did it happen that your companion got shot with the same crossbow that you carry in your pocket? And most of all, who is it that you betrayed?" Taron was silent as he fumbled for a reply. [ Friday, January 02, 2004 11:01: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- Nasty trickster stalking the web! 406 victims! " "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. The Encyclopædia Ermariana is growing. ;) Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Friday, January 2 2004 11:25
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Crandall was afraid for the Emperor's life, and Gideon Ironclad had never known a ship could move so fast. There were two mages on board, apparently for sending messages quickly, but at least one of them had found some way of enhancing the ship's speed. Two mages; the ship was obviously more important than the guards had thought. There were also plenty of pigeons, none of whom got much rest. After Crandall turned the ship east to go back to the SAFT headquarters in the south, a pigeon with a message for the archer-captain found the ship. Within a minute, every man on the ship who could write was gathered around Crandall, and messages were being sent out faster than Gideon Ironclad had thought possible. He had asked the archer-captain about his position on the ship, the first explanation he had wanted, but the pigeon had come right at that moment, and the Emperor still had no idea what had led him to the meeting with Linda. From the snatches of conversation and dictation, though, he and the guards gathered that several things were happening. First, White Peak Island had firmly declared their continued alliegance to Emperor Ironclad and none other, and had already mobilized for war; the substancial, well-trained Ironclad army was waiting at their docks. Second, many SAFT ships had been sent to the island to pick these men up and transport them wherever the Emperor wanted; the island was a rich one, which justified the SAFT's transporting of Imperial soldiers. The SAFT captains Third, Crandall's ship was going east with all possible speed; they still couldn't decide whether to bring the Emperor to White Peak to rally his supporters, or to get to the SAFT headquarters with no delay. Crandall was leaning towards stopping first at the island, but he knew that Vida wanted him in the south as soon as possible. And fourth, Sullust had firmly secured the river in the south, and was cutting through the remaining Kylenian river guard like a hot knife though butter. He had also roused the captive Lord Dekker's forces, most of whom were pushing forcefully to the southern coast. When the army returned from the Aizoan front, they meant to meet them there, whichever faction they chose. ***** A huge crowd had gathered, an angry crowd, a crowd with death in their eyes, a crowd lusting for blood, and for victory. Crowds like this covered Pralgrad, and this one, though larger than most, was hardly different. There was only one thing that set them apart: they wore the Imperial device of the soldiers of Emperor Gideon Ironclad. As the ship was tied to the dock, whispers ran through the crowd. "It's the Solarans... no, the Emperor... Emperor Ironclad... Ironclad has come... the SAFT has joined us... they will kill us all... Ironclad... Emperor Ironclad..." But when Emperor Gideon Ironclad stepped off the ship, flanked by the Imperial soldiers who had been following him since the battle at Blackstone, a cheer went up, the most overwhelming sound that had ever been heard on White Peak. Many peasants heard the cheer and thought the island had been invaded, and began barricading themselves in; those closer to the dock could see for themselves that, if an army of millions had invaded at that moment, they would have been brutally crushed. The cheering and shouting had a hysterical edge to it; much of it was from pure relief. They had had so many conflicting reports that the rest of the world could have exploded, for all they knew. To see the man so many had been loyal to since he had come to the throne, alive, in front of them, was a relief beyond imagining; none of them would have been surprised to see the Imperial head, separate from its body. By the time the noise had died down, Gideon Ironclad had been provided with a makeshift wooden platform, around which his men were fanned. And none could forget that around these guards stood Crandall's sailors; their captain had decided to bring the Emperor to White Peak, but they did not intend to lose him. Vida still wanted to see him. "My loyal sub -" he started, looking nervously out at the crowd. He looked like the perfect leader, to most of the soldiers, but those nearest him could see that the ocean voyage had taken its toll. "Ahem. My loyal subjects! You all know of this bloody revolution against our hard-won Empire, and against myself. I have been forced to leave Imperius, and then Blackstone, and now Pralgrad itself -" At this, an angry murmur ran through the crowd -"by none other than Jehan Sol, curse his fathers, and Dorian Kylen, that treacherous scum!" The murmur increased in volume. "But now we... now... um... what's next?" whispered Gideon Ironclad. "Will take -" the guard prompted "Right, thank you. Now we will take back the lands these rebels have stolen from us," he continued, "and we will see this chaos beaten down, and we will have a new age of peace!" Gideon Ironclad continued like that for a few minutes, occasionally prompted by the guards beside him. His nervousness dissapated as he saw the righteous fervor growing in his soldiers' eyes; these men were ready to fight, to kill, to do anything their emperor commanded. They were a large, well-trained force; White Peak had been virtually passed over during the war, but the army had not been idle. They had trained hard, every day, and this rich bit of land off the coast of the main continent of Pralgrad had contributed everything they could spare to prepare for the coming conflict. And they were rich; they did not have the mines of Sol, but they were entirely self-sufficient, and their surplus had been growing in huge leaps every year. By the time the Emperor's speech was over, the soldiers were chanting, almost as loudly as their original cheer, "Ironclad! Ironclad! Ironclad!" The Emperor looked out over his army, and smiled. He had not dared to dream of this, not since his close escape from Blackstone; yet here it was, larger than life, a chance to get back to his old life, but without the council. Without the council! How could he possibly be more lucky? As he raised his hand in a sort of victorious farewell, the chanting swelled to an almost deafening roar. These soldiers were ready. The SAFT transports, which had sailed innocently past the Solarans, were being tied to docks all over the island. Imperial soldiers were packing themselves into the ships, payed for by White Peak gold, just as Gideon Ironclad and his guards, flanked by Crandall's sailors, reboarded their ship and set out for the SAFT headquarters, far to the south. White Peak had mobolized, and, in Gideon Ironclad's mind, no force could stand in their way. "That was quite a good speech. Thank you." "You are welcome, my liege. It was your own doing, though; the speech was mediocre." The guard who had written the speech tried to maintain his humility, but he was even more flushed with excitement than the others. He had seen the effect his words had on the soldiers, and he had never been so proud in his life. "Well, yes," said the Emperor, having no such qualms about humility. "But still, next time I have to speak to a crowd, I want you to write my speech." "I would be honored, my liege." "Yes. Thank you. Could you hand me that? Yes, there. I think the army in Aizo could use the truth, for once... tell Crandall I have a message to send." ***** Later that night and early the next day, the Solaran blockade received a message from the captain of their flagship that a mutiny was brewing, and help was needed at once. The willingness of the SAFT captains to go to this one ship, out in the middle of the sea, may or may not have had something to do with the White Peak gold. The SAFT transports slipped past quietly while the Solaran fleet was distracted, and by the time they learned that it was a false alarm, the transports were safely past. OOC: I'm not making Gideon Ironclad into a god-character, and I apologize if it seems like that. The White Peak army is very good, but remember, anything would seem good to a crownless king. It's not insubstancial, though. [ Friday, January 02, 2004 15:10: Message edited by: Sir David ] -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon TEH CONSPIRACY IZ ALL Les forum de la chance. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Friday, January 2 2004 13:37
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Linda dreamed of white mountains, and a small stream. The grass soft under her feet. Picking up small pebbles. But there was something strange about one pebble. It grew arms, sharp talons. And the other pebbles began to change too. And she was running now, and then crawling... And falling, the taloned arms reaching grabbing.. ripping... She awoke and groaned. There was a dull ache in her shoulder, but she couldn't remember why. Or for that matter, where she was. She got up in her bed, and tried to shake the grogginess from her head, put her feet on the pine floor of the attic room where she appeared to be. Gradually, she remembered. In the last day, she had managed to betray her former emperor, Jehan Sol, capture men belonging to SAFT and annoy the Ironcladist candidate. No wonder she ended up with a crossbow bolt in her shoulder. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she peeked under the bandage. No wound. How very curious... Her headache abated enough to here voices from downstairs. Taron appeared to be having an argument with someone. Can't be too important. And then she remembered something. The doomguard! Damn him! But there was something else, something not right about this attic. She concentrated on the wall in front of her, and saw a sliver of light where no light should be. A secret room! And the only people with secret rooms in this town would be... --- Taron was having a very fruitful discussion with the old man about how easy it is to have an accident when using a crossbow when Linda stormed down. "Ok, we know your secret. Get as many people together here as soon as you can. I have something important to say..." Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Friday, January 2 2004 15:14
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OOC: Drakefyre, I will send you an email sooner or later with a pinpointed location of where Petoria's hovel is located and where Turin is. I think I will change lake Turin to the Gulf of Jazen and make Turin a port town. Petoria's Hovel will be located somewhere south in Kylen territory. IC: It is dark outside and the time is somewhere around midnight. While in the tavern, a disturbance can be heard outside. Belmont has gone to sleep, so Petoria rushes outside to see what all the ruckus is about. There are men gathered round a messenger on horseback. There is too much muttering going about to tell what is being said. She sees Winston standing along the wall talking to another official. She walks up to him and engages them in their conversation. Petoria: "Winston! What's going on?!" Winston: (His face turns to a grim expression when he sees her) "Petoria! Oh, I um, I-I can't tell you right now. It's...I...Just go into the tavern and I will tell you in a minute. It's about Dorian Kylen. I...He...Not now. Please, I beg of you. Wait for me inside." Petoria: "Very well. I shall be waiting." Petoria goes back into the tavern and sits down at a table in the corner. A rather dark corner. A minute later, Winston comes inside. He only glances around the room, and upon seeing her, he instantly tries to avoid eye contact. He approaches her table with a look of despair on his face and an expression that could only mean bad news. Sitting down, he orders a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. When it's brought to him, he hands her a glass and pours them both some. Winston: (He can't look at her and only looks at his glass of whiskey) "I fear you will need this whiskey when I am through. Plenty of it. Petoria, I hate being the bearer of bad news, but I wouldn't forgive myself if anyone else but me told you." Petoria: (With a look of concern) Well what is it? You have been avoiding eye contact with me since you came in. What about Dorian? Has something happened to him?" Winston: (He looks into her eyes and then back down to the table) "Yes, something has." (He takes a swallow of his drink and continues) "Petoria. Dorian is dead. He was assassinated in his palace by a rouge assassin. He lived long enough to say that he wished he could have seen you once more before he died. I am deeply sorry, Petoria." He sits and watches as she just stares at the table in total shock. He feels completely sorry for her, but doesn't know what to do to help. Then her eyes begin to fill up with tears as she mutters a few words. Petoria: (In broken gasps and sobs) "My son Dorian is dead? And he wanted to see me again before he died." With that, she breaks out into a full wail, causing Winston to quickly go and sit beside her. She holds onto him and cries uncontrollably. He just holds her in his arms against his chest and lets her cry herself half to sleep. He then has her take a drink of the whiskey to settle her nerves and takes her to her room. He remains there with her for the rest of the night to keep her company in her time sorrow. -------------------- "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!" - Sherlock Holmes Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep, two corpses, everthing's fine." "What do you think I asked you here for? COMPANY?!!!" - Bette Davis Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Friday, January 2 2004 15:40
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"Well, gentlemen, I suppose now we have to ask ourselves: What can we do?" The question was met with bitter mumbling from the now-Emperorless faction. "What can we do? Side with the Populists, of course. They might gut the aristocracy like a trout, but at least they'll be going after the Solarans and Ironcladians too." The famed general stares at the Minister of the Interior balefully. If he hadn't gotten here sooner, this idiot would surely be in charge of things. "We cannot do any such thing. The Solarans have been using the Populists as a weapon against us; we cannot sink to their level. Similarly, the Ironclads have gone so far as to throw around the idea of allying with the Populists outright. How the mighty have fallen!" Hugo spits at the phrase. Karadas looks mildly disgusted as well. "Then what should we do, General Hugo? I don't see any way we can preserve our position, let alone recover what we used to have, unless we side with the Populists." "I'll tell you what we're going to do: We're going to fight them with every ounce of strength they have. Propagandize. Set off guerillas. Fight them like we did the Ironcladders. And then we're going to rip the Solarans a new one. They have violated our neutrality agreement unconscionably often, and with intolerable methods. Intolerable to us, intolerable to any right-thinking men, and intolerable, surely, to any Aizoan." The last word rings for a while. Several mouths open at once, and then shut half a second later in stunned unison. "Aizoan." The word comes from as many mouths, but not the same ones. "Yes! The Aizoans! We had forgotten about the doddering idiots running the Imperial Army up there, but now we are going to go over and make them come over. Tell them that people wanting to kill the Emperor, calling themselves Populist Republicans, have risen up, that Gideon Ironclad has openly aided them and Jehan Sol is doing them nothing but good. And we shall tell them, all the way up to Corin godforsaken Warderson, that we, the right-thinking and Gods-fearing citizens of the true Empire, shall not, and cannot, stand idly by as everything that the Empire has ever stood for is thrown into the ash-heap! We shall tell them all, all the way up to Corin godforsaken Warderson, that if they do not give succor unto us, the defenders of the true Empire, that they won't be able to see themselves as men! In two years time, we shall parade about the streets of Imperius with the heads of Sol and Ironclad on pikes, and the people will shout --" "Long live Emperor Hugo!" The people in the room chant this in near-perfect unison, and from Hugo's reaction, he clearly didn't see it coming. "Long live Emperor Hugo! Long live Emperor Hugo!" Hugo leans over to Karadas in slight awe. "What the devil has happened to this country?" "Exactly." Karadas smiles smugly as the Kylenian ministers verbally crown the man who was once his fiercest rival Emperor. ... [ Saturday, January 03, 2004 01:34: Message edited by: USA-se Xenerali-veiratu CUSITURA ] -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Guardian
Member # 2339
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written Friday, January 2 2004 17:36
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OOC: Omlette, I don't know where to move my character right now. I would like it if you do that for me, since I don't know what to do right now. -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 100 computers: read more! HAHAHAH!!!OH, I CAN'T BREATHE!! HAHAHAHA!!!! Think you're sane? Enduring the worst, to bring you the best. We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
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Agent
Member # 464
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written Friday, January 2 2004 20:43
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Some time had passed after the brawl he heard quited down. He didn't get to see it, partly because it didn't sound so loud, and partly because he stopped by for a couple of drinks, where he got involved in a pretty long conversation with a chatty sailor. "Also, did you know that the other day..." the sailor's voice trailed off a little as Sam looked longingly at the window and let his thoughts run freely; however, he didn't let himself go into a daydream, because the sailor would then ask him a question or two about his story, and he expects more than simply a "What was that again?" or "I'm not sure." A man rushed past his eyes. It took him a moment to realize that the blur looked strangely familiar to him. Ignoring the sailor, who had already begun his first question, Sam stood up and headed out the door to see, just as he turned at a corner, Taron. Anger rose in Sam as he followed him. He stopped and didn't turn at the corner; instead, he propped himself firmly against the wall and listened for clues as to why his target was running. Not long after, he heard a satisfying thud. Thinking that Taron had fallen dead, he peeked briefly and saw Taron walking up to what seemed like the body of the mage he was with. Again, just in the nick of time, he drew his head back as Taron glanced in his direction. Taron was too busy with her, however, to do other things. Thoughts raced in his mind. First, a jubilation, for the mage is down. Then, he wondered how the two of them were separated. Someone must've intervened. Third was another question, this time concerning the doomguard. Whoever was able to split the mercenary and the mage must have the doomguard, but he didn't have a clue who it was. More thoughts followed. He took a risk and popped his head out of hiding for a second and saw the mercenary, the mage, and an old man. He swore. He knew that they would be able to persuade the man, just as they did with his comrades. But at least he now knows where the mage and the mercenary are; now his problem is the doomguard. Though he began to feel the exhaustion from all that's been happening, he half-walked, half-ran away from the site where the body lay and began searching for the golem. OOC: What time is it in the RP, evening? -------------------- You go girl! All are lunatics, but he who can analyze his delusion is called a philosopher. - Ambrose Bierce If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried. Posts: 1158 | Registered: Monday, December 31 2001 08:00 |
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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 02:03
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(OOC: Zephyr, you're on the boats heading back to Pralgrad) An angry Solaran emissary stormed into SAFT offices and demanded to speak with Vida. He told her in no uncertain terms that unless SAFT immediately ceased to aid the Ironclads, Populists, and Kylens, their deal would be voided. -------------------- "At times discretion should be thrown aside, and with the foolish we should play the fool." - Menander ==== Drakefyre's Demesne - Vahnatai Did Do It desperance.net - We're Everywhere The Arena - God Will Sort The Dead ==== You can take my Mac when you pry my cold, dead fingers off the mouse! Posts: 9436 | Registered: Wednesday, September 19 2001 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 05:42
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OOC: Let's try to sort out the timescale, a bit. Kylen was assassinated on the afternoon. Hugo et al's meeting occured on that evening. On the same evening, Linda met with Ironclad, and then got shot. And rescued, and so on. She had gotten Taron out of SAFT early in the morning, and been intercepted around noon. Sol's actions against the populists are spread out over a period of time prior to this evening, like a few weeks. The Aizoan front was contacted at the start of Sol-vs-Populist actions. Presuming they are back, advanced elements should arrive within a week. But nobody knows this. Pretoria et al are at some time after Kylen's death, when news had time to spread around the area. Ok? Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 2242
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 10:24
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Captain Kevin and the elites persued the Doomguard through the town, as the thieves attempted to flee. Several other troops moved in on Sergeant Lincoln's command to help apprehend the thieves. Surrounded, with nowhere to go, the thieves surrendered. They had the insignia of SAFT. Interesting, thought the Captain, I'll have to report this to the General. Kevin pulled out a scroll given to him by one of the mages. This would make sure that only the Solarians could control the Doomguard now. It would also deactivate the Doomguard. A few more guards arrived to carry the Doomguard. "Bring this back to the sergeant, and you 2 elites help guard these thieves. I've got some traitors to find," Kevin said. Now, they can't live by normal means. We have the town surrounded. There is no sewers in this small town. They'd have to leave through the docks... and that's where I'll be waiting, Kevin thought. Kevin walked to the docks and hid behind some crates, waiting for his opponents to arrive. -------------------- "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster... when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes back into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, November 14 2002 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 15:35
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His mistake, of course, was that Linda had no desire to leave. Linda looked out over the balcony, paced nervously back and forth. Below and around, the largest crowd she had ever seen stood, stamped and muttered. It was a very big crowd. It was not exactly what she had in mind when she told the old priest - Father Jose was his name - to gather as many people as he can. Populist support must be stronger here than most thought, even though Jehan Sol was reputed to have defeated most of their stronghold here. She looked closer, examined their faces and realised the truth. Sol had not killed all the populists. Most had simply run away from the battle, hid themselves in small towns or tried to return to the lives they left, waiting for an ounce of hope to lift them up. To the East, there may be victories and glory, but here there has only been death, slaughter, defeat. There was a lot of work to do if this was to be a real force. So she spoke, almost shouting: "Hail! The people of Praglad!" A muted movement passed through the crowd. Some more muttering too. Linda could guess - who is this woman, to address us? Quickly she answered this silent question. "I was once one of the enemy. I once served an emperor, Jehan Sol, believing his path to be the right one. I believed that he can bring peace, that he loved the land. I was wrong!" A roar of approval. That certainly struck a chord. She wondered how many of these people were once supporters of Sol. "For I realised that in the end, he was just a man. A greedy ambitious man, too. A man who thinks nothing of starting a pointless war to further his gains, who would rule this land with injustice and inefficiency. And ultimately, terror." They were entranced now, but for a brief commotion to her right. A small number of men appeared to be trying to force a way through the crowd, to no avail. "Remember the heros of Bale! Remember the women ravished, the children murdered like dogs! Remember the flames, the smoke..." They remembered. Taron shifted uncomfortably beside her. He had not heard of this. Little wonder, being stuck in a cell all the time. "Remember the men of Gretal! They believed that Sol would deal with them fairly, but they were betrayed! They were slain, and their relatives left without homes, without fathers and husbands, sent to the slave-mines to the west. Where was imperial justice then?" Somewhere in the crowd, a chant grew, too indistinct to make out. She continued regardless. "What of the great imperial armies? Young men, torn from their families at the prime of their lives, sent on distant campaigns, to Aizo or kill their own countrymen. What honor is there in this?" "And what of trade, of our industries? All turned to war now, to needless killing. Food will grow scarce. This needless war will consume us!" The chant grew loud enough to be heard. "Down with Sol!" "Down with Kylen!" "Down with Empire!" But there was a dissenting voice. "But how can we fight them? They will kill us. Like they did at Bale." Perfect timing. "Yes, that is true. Their armies are a grinding mill, tight with discipline and training. But they are not a perfect one, they can still be beaten. We must not fight like they do, for they are harder than us, and they can smash us to pieces. No, we must be as the water that flows between their toes, hit them when they are unready, flee them where they are strong. We shall show them the true meanings of terror, strike them wherever they hide. Hurt them, not directly, but at the bonds that make them strong, and their men will gladly join us. In the end, we are right, and we will wear them down. And we shall triumph!" The crowd burst forth in a triumphant roar, as though they had already won. Already, the word would be spreading, the idea planted. Those that follow will be bond to Linda, those that do not will die. The doomguard must have been taken by now, and Sol will strike soon. But we will be ready. Drawing on dirty cloaks, Linda and Taron quickly disappeared into the cheering multitudes. OOC: So Linda takes over the western populist faction. Her influence is initially pretty weak, and the eastern populists still act independently, attempting to attack anyone and everyone. Firedrake: Wasn't that a bit too easy, just getting a scroll and fixing the doomguard like that? Linda thinks it is unfixable... Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |