An RP in the World of Avernum
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| Author | Topic: An RP in the World of Avernum |
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Agent
Member # 464
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 18:00
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Still no sign of the doomguard. His weariness grows slowly, and he can feel it; but he was driven by the thought of recovering the artifact. To others it may appear as obsession by now, but to him it is merely determination and perseverance. With some perspiration running down his cheeks, he went on. A roaring cheer caused Sam to almost jump. It was pretty loud and clear, and he went over to see what it was all about. In no time he became part of an enormous crowd. A speaker ahead triggered something in his memory. It was the mage, and to his great surprise she is well. He hid from her gaze as best he can and listened to what she had to say. "Remember the heros of Bale! Remember the women ravished, the children murdered...." Whatever it is, he didn't like it. It sounds like words of encouragement about something...but he didn't stay to hear the rest. As best he could, he hoped that neither she nor the mercenary beside her noticed him move about. Later on, he stopped shortly for some food and drink. He left as soon as possible. The evening, he noticed, was getting darker. He better find it soon before the light would be of little use to him. He prayed that he'd find even the smallest clue about the whereabouts of it. He was nearing the docks when his prayer seemed to be answered: he saw, just as he passed across a street, a small group of sailors; he recognized one of them as a brat with whom he got into trouble with because of the brat's fault. -------------------- 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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Shaper
Member # 32
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 20:49
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The news had spread quickly when Sullust had conquered the river from the Kylenian forces. News of his death spread even faster. While fighting off the remaining Kylenians in Ironclad territory he had found himself surrounded by a large populist militia. He couldn't believe that some of his own people would join such a sort. Instead of drawing their weaponry, a single member of the Populist group tossed a small glass jar into the center of Sullust's men. It shattered upon striking the ground, causing the chemicals inside to mix. Surrounded by his own men, Sullust couldn't move fast enough to escape the poisonous gas that was forming from the mixture. He and a few others surrounding the container died instantly. Those who survived were taken prisoner. -------------------- Lt. Sullust Cogito Ergo Sum Polaris Posts: 2462 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Saturday, January 3 2004 21:12
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"Dear Warderson," the Emperor wrote. "Things aren't going too well." "Uh, my liege..." began the guard, reading over Gideon's shoulder. "Yes?" "Well..." Gideon Ironclad was proud of his literacy; he had often dodged his sword practice as a child, taking refuge behind stacks of parchment, learning from scribes rather than knights. A simple command was all it took to keep those involved quiet; he was, after all, heir to the throne. And now he meant to make use of his time spent in those dry, dusty rooms. The guard, seeing his writing skill, or lack thereof, had different ideas. "Sir, come quickly! There seems to be a message from the mainland!" The guard looked at Crandall in relief; he had mentioned this problem to the archer-captain, by talking to himself in the other man's general vicinity, of course. As the Emperor got up with a mixture of fear and excitement, Crandall winked at the guard. The man smiled thankfully. "Should I write the message, then, my liege?" the guard asked, accidentally on purpose waiting for the Emperor to walk out of hearing range. He laughed self-contentedly and sat down where the Emperor had been. He took up the pen, found a new piece of parchment, and quickly got to work. Speech-writing was not the guard's only skill; within a few minutes, he had a new letter, one dripping in Imperial propaganda. He sat back and read it over, a little smile on his lips; this would convince Sol himself, he thought to himself. The basic idea was that Ironclad I, the man who had sent the army in the first place, was the man to whom their loyalties should be given. Since that man and most of his family were dead, Gideon Ironclad, his great-nephew, was the closest they would get. Kylen was illegitimate, and Sol was an enemy of their previous emperor's house. Even the guard himself was getting tired of the word "traitor" by the end of the letter; it may have a few exaggerations, he thought wryly, rereading his descriptions of Kylen and Sol, and then of his own emperor. But if it showed Warderson the truth, well, small innaccuracies could be fixed later, when Gideon Ironclad was back on the throne. A little later the Emperor returned, looking confused and speaking vaguely about Crandall's mistake, how the message had actually just been from an SAFT transport, saying that they had gotten safely through. The guard smiled at him, hiding his letter in a stack of papers on the desk. "It's getting late, my liege, but if you write quickly, you may be able to get that letter finished in time," he said. Gideon Ironclad sat back down, picked up his pen, and thought. "Actually," started the guard, cautiously, "I hope you don't mind, but I wrote a bit myself... just a draft, a little suggestion, but maybe you'd like to look at it?" He shifted through the papers, as if looking for something he had put there a day or two ago, then suddenly perked up, 'somehow' finding his letter. "Here you are, my liege, I hope you find it helpful," he said, handing it to his emperor. Gideon Ironclad looked up at him questioningly, then looked down at the parchment. His eyes lit up; he read the letter, then reread the description of himself, laughing merrily. "You really think that? Well, I suppose it's true... I don't want him thinking I'm too arrogant, though, maybe I should change that bit..." He laughed again, took another piece of parchment, and copied the letter almost word for word. He changed it around a bit, making it seem like he had written it himself, then signed it with a flourish. He laughed again, his eyes still bright, and smiled at the guard. "Thank you. What is your name?" "Kellen, my liege," the guard said, "but you don't have to give me credit. It's your letter." "Oh, I know, but it's frustrating, having to refer to you as 'guard'." "Ah. Right." "Well, Kellen, have this copied, then send as many copies of it as Crandall allows, to whoever needs it. Make sure more than one copy is sent to Warderson; he must get it, and soon." "Yes, my liege." The guard walked from the room, smiling; soon, the message had been copied and sent out by various means, multiple times. Sol would have to control the entire continent to prevent the message from reaching Warderson, and, of course, the more people it reached, the better. ***** Later that day, a copy of the message reached Lord Dekker's former fortress, Sullust's home. When they received word of Sullust's death, the soldiers were shocked and disheartened; they had counted on him to lead them to victory against the Kylenians. The news of the Populist militia was just as surprising; they had heard vague rumors of this new faction, but had never really considered it a danger to themselves. The good news was that the militia had also destroyed the remaining Kylenian opposition; the rivers now belonged to Gideon Ironclad and his southern soldiers, if they could hold out against the Populists. Soon after the news was heard, the knights Gideon had sent so long ago returned to the fortress; their leader was given Sullust's former position, and he immediately sent out an army to fight the Populists, and anyone else who might challenge the Ironcladists' power around the rivers. Along with them were several assassins. Lucas, a veteran archer from the late Lord Dekker's barracks, was sent with one mission: to kill all Populist leaders he could find. OOC: Sullust won't be able to post as much for a bit, but when he returns, Lucas is his new character; don't kill him off. [ Saturday, January 03, 2004 21:17: 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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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 03:21
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(OOC: Well, the mages had been working with the doomguard for a lot longer than Linda had been. And Linda is just an apprentice - an Imperial Wizard would be able to do things she can't even dream of doing.) The aggressive attacks on the populists had brought glory to the Solaran Army, and recruitment intensified among the young men of the big cities, and soon more conscripts were being trained and drilled by the best military instructors on Pralgrad. Meanwhile, the existing forces, after finishing their burning rampage, all headed to the Borderlands, keeping close watch for Populist and Kylen guerillas and troops. They knew that Populist troop movement north of Imperius had increased tremendously over the last couple of days, and they began to fortify intensely all along the new borders of Solaran territory. Upon finding out Linda's treachery, Jehan Sol dispatched several intensely loyal assassins, among them an accomplished mage. The Populist movement was not going to get anything done under his watch. The Solaran emissary on Warderson's ship received another message, this one more accurately describing the political situation on Pralgrad, including exaggeration of the Populist threat in Ironclad and Kylen territories. He quickly pointed out that at this point, only the Solarans were prepared to keep the Empire alive and stable. Jehan Sol had great respect for Ironclad I. Jehan Sol has great respect for the Ironclad house. Jehan Sol has great respect for our efforts on Aizo. Jehan Sol has great respect for General Warderson. -------------------- "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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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 04:11
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OOC: I didn't know you could kill off your char. :eek: :P IC: As Linda finished her speech, Taron was just as enchanted by it as those citizens down there. True — as a professional fighter he had less to worry about being slain by soldiers raiding the town, and as a mercenary he was not forced by any sovereign to fight for a cause he did not agree with. But that, precisely, was the point. Taron might be a mercenary, but he was not without rigid morals. Morals that told him never to betray an employer, unless that employer could be called 'evil'. Evil could be loosely defined, but from what Linda had just said about the atrocities against the Populists, Jehan Sol fitted most of these definitions pretty well. Done, then. At least, he did not need to worry about treason; Sol was a man who was not worthy of loyalty. And when the chant grew audible, Taron had to restrain himself very much to not join in shouting, 'Death to Sol!' He remained silent however. That would look stupidt. Best maintain some dignity at least. He at last had a bow and arrows again; the old priest had been keeping a small armory for the Populists and was quick enough to comply when Taron explained his problem. So where are we going next? Taron wondered as he hurried to keep up. The Doomguard was nearly out of his range now. He had had a brief tingling sensation some time earlier, telling him magic had come into contact with the object he was scrying for. If that was the Doomguard being switched on, we're as good as dead. It also reminded Taron that he should tell Linda about the spell. 'Linda.' 'Yes?', she snapped. 'About, ah, that Doomguard---', he didn't get any further. 'Yes, high time you told me that you lost it, I wouldn't have noticed. Good job, too. You know what happens if someone switches it on.' 'Well, before those SAFT people ambushed me and stole it, I managed to fix a scrying spell on it. Sort of like a magical bug, allowing me to pinpoint it as long as it stays within a certain range, and---' 'Get to the point, old man. Are you telling me that you know where it is?' 'To an extent. I'm pretty sure that Solarans took it from the SAFT sailors some time back, or at least that is what it sounded like. It's moving a little faster now, as if carried by a cart. And it's sort of in that direction.' He pointed Northwest. 'Should we retrieve it? We don't have enough men probably, and we're probably too late, but we might be able to destroy it in a pinch. I'd personally be much happier if there wasn't this big machine waiting to be switched on and killing everything. Especially as long as we're within ten miles of it. What do you say?' [ Tuesday, January 06, 2004 08:37: 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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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 04:27
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"Assassins, eh?" In a way, Linda was proud of gaining such noteriety so quickly. And damn scared as well, of course. "Yes, sir. Beta confirmed that four of them has been sent out, with a representative from Solaria magic school in tow." Beta was a code name for a populist operative somewhere around Jehan Sol. That's what the western populists have instead of an army, these days. Still, Sol has misplayed his hand. A few assassins would be excellent at knocking out a number of leaders. But having a mage tag along would stand out like a sore thumb amongst people who had never seen a real, good mage in their lives. The only question was how to use it. "We want to give no impression of how we got this information, ok? And if Sol thinks decapitation will work against us, it is only polite to reciprocate." And on to other business. A few shipments of crossbows would be commandeered the moment they left SAFT hands. The bridge of Norden will suffer an accident. Nothing that would appear to be part of an overall plan. Nothing that would look any different from usual banditry. "Why don't we attack? Like those in the East do?" An idiot. Linda made a mental note for his demotion. "Because attacking is what fools do, right now. The eastern rebels may do well for the time being, but they are overstretched, overarrogant and underdisciplined. They've already been corrupted by unneccessary ambition, which would lose them support. In the end, they'll lose, and we'll win." When finally the subcommanders had filed out of the room, an extra piece of news. "Kylen is dead." "What?" That was a big surprise. The thugs in the east had accomplished something. "The generals are being very busy trying to keep it secret, but one of our men was an eyewitness. Even the eastern populists don't know." "Who does know this?" "A few of the highest level commanders. Maybe the other faction leaders, depending on how in touch they are. Looks like it's going to be a silent takeover, with a smooth "transition" of power." She thought a bit, and turning to Taron, gave out further instructions. "This doesn't concern us, for now. Our propagandists can spread rumors, but it is unlikely the Kylenian army will believe us. Right now, I want you to do something about the doomguard. Intelligence states that they are trying to sneak it out into Solaran territory, where it would be much harder to trace. Pick a few trustworthy men, and make sure it has an accident." Meanwhile, she'll remain here as assassin-bait. --- When Jehan Sol woke up that morning, he had a nasty surprise. One can only guess at his expression when he found a small piece of note-paper next to his bed. "You are dead. Ha. Ha. Ha." [ Sunday, January 04, 2004 04:40: Message edited by: FZ ] Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 07:41
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OOC: Nice one, that last bit. :D Taron will only set out now, since another long IC would amount to hijacking the plot; I just posted after all. IC: 'Destroy it?' 'Only if we can't get it into our possession. Which we don't have much hope of. Destroying it is much easier.' 'But destroy it?!', another of the selected soldiers asked, a bit aghast. 'We could use it, couldn't we? Any aid now would be of great help!' 'No, it wouldn't, because the thing is rigged to destroy everything within ten miles as soon as it is switched on, and we haven't figured out how to change that. We might possibly be able to use it even thus to our advantage, but it is even more important that Sol doesn't get it. You know what kind of cruelty he would work with it.' The man, with the memory of the atrocities fresh in mind, paled and nodded. Taron eyed the crew in front of him again. An archer, a crossbowman, and two burly swordfighters called Bruce and Feodoric. Ronald the archer and the two fighters were from Linda's group who had got Taron out of the SAFT. They could be depended upon, more or less, as long as they weren't sent on a suicide mission. The crossbowman was the town fletcher who had recently joined the Populists after losing relatives in one of the towns Jehan Sol had razed. He was intensely loyal to the group and Linda, and would fight to the death against Sol. And then there was a rather shady character who did not reveal his name. An assassin. That reminded Taron. I guess those people will be here before we're back. Five of them, they said, including a mage. Four good assassins, and any leader is a push-over normally, and together with a mage, they're even more dangerous. They could not afford to lose Linda now, or the Populists would lose a figurehead. That's the trouble with holding rousing speeches; people will follow you until you're dead, but no further. The Populists here could probably prevent any accidents, as long as Linda didn't go outside too much in the following few days and avoided the more murky areas of the town. Still... 'We leave immediately.' It was several hours before noon, the day after Linda's negotiation with Ironclad. 'I will meet you in ten minutes outside; get any equipment ready and prepare for about a few days' journey.' OOC: Not really ten minutes. A day, more likely, in real time. ;) [ Sunday, January 04, 2004 07:49: 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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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 08:30
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OOC: You can kill your character, and a mod or admin can kill your character, but that's it. Basically, if they can edit one of your posts, they can kill your character. IC later, unless this paper takes longer than I think it will... -------------------- 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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BANNED
Member # 2385
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 10:23
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OOC: I'm leaving this RP, so I'm gonna go ahead and kill my character. IC: Red Warlock is on his way to somewhere. It begins raining several massive objects, and an anvil falls on RW. He immediatley is crushed and several bloody pieces of flesh and meat fly everywhere. -------------------- I get energy from your jealousy. Ever wonder why I'm so hyper? -------------------- Bow to the blademaster of Exile. The Abyss Scenarios, Forums, Graphics... E-Master's Graemlins Come take a look. Miscellaneous Get to the closed misc. forums! Where's Waldo? Can you find Waldo in less than a minute? *Evil Grin* End of World Da end is coming! Posts: 489 | Registered: Friday, December 20 2002 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 11:40
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Nice one, EM. But couldn't you write with a little more sense and realism? -------------------- 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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BANNED
Member # 2385
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 12:29
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No, son......no I can't.... -------------------- I get energy from your jealousy. Ever wonder why I'm so hyper? -------------------- Bow to the blademaster of Exile. The Abyss Scenarios, Forums, Graphics... E-Master's Graemlins Come take a look. Miscellaneous Get to the closed misc. forums! Where's Waldo? Can you find Waldo in less than a minute? *Evil Grin* End of World Da end is coming! Posts: 489 | Registered: Friday, December 20 2002 08:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 13:41
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No great loss. ... The Solarans at the border were preparing for more guerilla attacks. They had intensified; first from the Populists, who seemed to be fleeing from something, and then from the Kylenians, who seemed to be the something they were fleeing from. The sun was low in the sky when shapes appeared over the horizon. If that was a Populist levee, they had been ordered to take a light hand, forcing them into Kylenian territory; that way they could give the appearance of fighting the Populists while using them as a weapon against the Kylenians. This was no levee. As the number and volume of shadows swelled, that much became obvious -- the Populists couldn't field any one army this size. The Solaran sentries gave one hard look at the Kylenian army approaching, rubbed their eyes, and then, for the most part, ran like hell. "Dig in! Set the pikes at level and meet the bastards head-on!" All around the border, commanders were giving the same order to scared, unenthusiastic troops. Then the cries came from the other side of the border -- from one man's throat and then from those of thousands. "Up with the Empire!" "Up with the Empire!" "Death to traitors!" "Death to traitors!" "Death to Sol!" "Death to Sol!" And then, the next cry came as a unified shriek: "Long live Emperor Hugo!" The commander sat rather puzzled. "Emperor Hugo? What the devil -- I thought the Kylens wanted to--" Those were his last words. Thousands of arrows pounded into the Solaran lines; one tore through his head. A line of hideous beasts crashed into the Solarans, and then beams of searing light followed them. When the beasts disappeared, wave upon wave of troops under General Hugo's banner, numbering improbable thousands with weapons, armor, and boundless fury. What separated them from a guerilla army? Mages, maybe; noble generals, certainly; and most certainly, the fact that they didn't stop there. The entire wave swept into the Solaran faction with a characteristic yipping roar. Propaganda has appeared demanding the people of the Solaran faction fight for the Empire against Sol, a traitor in bed with the Populists. Warderson has been bombarded with appeals from the Kylenians for aid against the Solarans, who they call 'traitorous rabble-rousers', in rebuilding the Empire with Emperor Hugo at its head. And finally, an offer has come to both Gideon Ironclad and Jehan Sol -- how, we cannot really elaborate on -- offering clemency if either surrenders at once and devotes further military efforts only to defeating the Populist menace. -------------------- ¡Viva Chile! ¡Viva el Pueblo! ¡Vivan los Trabajadores! Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3022
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 14:00
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OOC: Ah hell, sorry for disobeying the post a day rule, but this is too much to resist... IC: Linda's new job was rewarding, but also difficult. One particularly unenjoyable task was sorting out good intelligence from bad intelligence. In this case, however, things were easy. "Anvils?" Linda raised an eyebrow. "Flying ones, sir. They hit some ships out of port. Caused a few casualties." The messenger repeated, trying to maintain a serious expression. "It is rumored that they were sent by a wizard calling himself X." It was with great effort that she dismissed the courier, with a note to be easy on the alcohol. Flying anvils and mysterious wizards indeed. Looks like the pressure is taking a toll on our field agents. --- To the east, the disorganised main battle column of the Eastern Populist Army arrived later than planned, finding their scouting troops already routed by alliance forces. Out of control, and desiring vengence, they spy another battle continuing, with plenty of hated imperialists bottled up in a confused melee. They are stupid, but not stupid enough to miss this opportunity. Forgetting even to deploy into combat formation, they charge into the rear of the alliance army. [ Sunday, January 04, 2004 14:02: Message edited by: FZ ] Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 17:06
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When Emperor Gideon Ironclad received Emperor Hugo's message, he burst into uproarious laughter. At first the guards in his cabin joined in; after all their emperor had done for his cause, after sending the White Peak army to Pralgrad, after Sullust's victories in the south, some upstart general backed by a bunch of traitors was offering clemency? But when Gideon's laughter gained a hysterical edge, they got worried. "Ahhh," Gideon Ironclad sighed merrily, "'clemency.' Send him a letter - hahaha! Send them a letter. Tell them - hahaha! Tell them what you want! I don't care! Hahaha! 'Alliance.' Ahhh." "Are you feeling alright, my liege?" the guard asked, worried. "You have had very little sleep lately, maybe you should go to bed." "Oh, yes, bed, bed, I'll go to bed. Write them a letter. If it's not scathing enough, I'll - hahaha! I'll have your heads!" The guards gave each other worried glances - the Emperor couldn't and wouldn't do anything to them, they knew that. But was Ironclad just deprived of sleep, or was he finally cracking? He wasn't the strongest person in the world, mentally; they knew that, all too well. Maybe the stress was finally getting to him. Kellen sat down and wrote a suitably scathing letter, and had Crandall send it off; he didn't bother with copies, because there was no one who would want to shoot the pigeon down. He then went to the Emperor's bed, and stood by him until he awoke, hours later. ***** While Crandall's ship was making all possible haste, sailing south, the SAFT transports got closer and closer to the northeastern shores of Pralgrad. The day after their emperor's speech, the White Peak army was preparing to disembark on what was now enemy land. But in the full light of day, these men were not scared, they were not nervous, they were barely excited. They were ready. -------------------- 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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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Sunday, January 4 2004 23:53
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OOC: Hmmm. No more posts concerning that powerful mage. I'll add a little. There are no sexual implications in my following post. Please don't come to that conclusion by what I have written. It is merely just affection shown between two old friends. IC: It is somewhere around noon when Petoria wakes up. She finds that she is in bed with Winston and he has his arms around her. At first, she is a bit surprised at this finding and taken aback, but then she remembers the circumstances and news from the previous night. She smiles at this. She knows that Winston is not very good at comforting people and this was one of those rare times when he was able to do it successfully. She knows that he gave up valuable time to be with her in her time of need, and she appreciates that. She decides that she wants to get up, so she taps on his arm, and waking up, he releases her from his embrace. She then gets out of bed and goes about the usually freshening up routine. Winston gets up and does the same. Soon they are both finished and Winston prepares himself to leave. As he is doing this, she speaks to him. Petoria: (Looking at him with slight distress on her face) "Winston, I am going to go out now for a walk to clear my head. I need one after yesterday's news." Winston: (With a look of concern on his face) "Oh. All right. Uh, do you want me to come with you?" Petoria: (Seeing his worry) "No, that's quite alright. I know you have your job to get back to. Besides, you helped me plenty last night. You gave me the shoulder I needed to cry on when I needed it. I know that isn't easy for you to do." Winston: (Looking at the floor) "I-I am not sure of what else to say or do." (Looking up at her) "But I'll be around if you need me." With that, Petoria walks towards the door, and upon reaching it, she stops and turns towards him. Petoria: (Affection and gratitude can be seen on her face) "Oh, uh, Winston...Thanks." She gives him a smile and he returns it. She then goes out in the bar, gets a drink of ale, and then leaves for her walk. Winston leaves not too long after that, having had some whiskey before going. After walking around for some fifteen minutes in the various streets of the city, Petoria sees the mayor ahead of her a distance down the street. When he sees her, he gets a look of surprise and relief on his face and walks quickly towards her. Coming closer, he motions for her to stop. Mayor Flagstaff: (Slightly out of breath and a look of excitement on his face) "Petoria, I am glad to have found you here. It saved me the trouble of looking around the city for you, should you not be at the inn. And, oh...I uh, must give you my sympathies in the death of your son. I know you must be going through absolute hell. I went through the same thing when I lost my boy, James, in a battle a year ago." Petoria: (Looking slightly happy at his concern) "Thank you. I remember James. He was a nice young man. I haven't seen my son in years, but I mourn just the same at the loss. Most mothers do." (Remembering the original topic) "What was it that you wanted to see me about?" Mayor Flagstaff: (Motioning in the direction he just came) "Walk with me to the Hall. I will tell you on the way." (They both begin walking in that direction) "We have some news concerning that black cloaked mage that rode past here. Some of our men were searching the woods for signs of the mage when they came across a torn piece of cloak, entangled in some thorn bushes. It's being studied back at the Hall and you said you wanted to be told if anything concerning the mage turned up. Oh. We, uh, also found the horse he had ridden. But he left no traces upon it." Petoria: "Oh! That is important! Thank you for coming to me right away. It might give us the answers we need. I want to see it as soon as possible. Besides, I need something else to occupy my mind anyway." Mayor Flagstaff: "Very well. We have quite a ways to walk, so let's take a cab. I'll pay." Petoria: "Okay. Sounds good to me." The mayor sees a hansom (horse-drawn cart) parked along the street with the driver standing by the horse feeding it some carrots. He calls to the driver who, upon seeing the mayor, salutes and replies immediately. Cabman: (Looking at the mayor and the woman beside him with eagerness) "Where would you like to go mayor?" Mayor Flagstaff: (Handing him two silver coins) "Take us to the Hall as quickly as possible! It's urgent! And two gold bits if you get us there in under five minutes!" Cabman: (Grinning greatly because of the coins) "Caw blimey!! You'll get there alright!!" (Climbing into the driver's seat) "Giddy up there, Star!! Yah!!" With that, they head quickly to the Hall. They make it there in four and a half minutes, and staying true to his words, the mayor pays the man two gold coins. The cabman voices his appreciation and takes off looking for more customers. Petoria and the mayor hurry inside. He takes her up to the second floor and to a large room filled with tables and mages. There are dozens of bookshelves along the walls covered with lots of scrolls, parchments, and tomes. The tables are covered with chemistry equipment and experiments in progress. The mayor takes Petoria to a table in the middle of the room. There are three mages gathered around a black piece of cloth lying on a large metal sheet. They are examining it closely and taking samples of it for chemical analysis. The mayor takes over now giving orders. Mayor Flagstaff: (Clearing his throat and motioning to Petoria) "Please step aside everyone. I have here someone who might be able to give us further information about this cloth and who its owner might be. The floor and investigation is all yours, Petoria." Petoria: (Looking slightly embarrassed from the announcement) "Uh, thank you, mayor. I'll do what I can." She gets right down to work examining the piece of cloth. She stops abruptly and asks for a chair. One is brought to her and she sits down at the table. She realizes this might take some time, so she asks that various items be sat on the table near her to aid her in her investigation and prepare for a long study of the mysterious cloth. OOC: I will continue this later. It will take her a while to discover the secret of the cloth and who its owner might be. This will bring about the name of the mage eventually and possibly a new role for someone to take up. I respectably say that the role will be reserved for the person who brought about the creation of this mage. This mage and the one who created the false Doomguard for Lt. Sullust are one in the same, just so everyone knows. I have no desire to take over the mage's role and will only do so if told that I should. [ Monday, January 05, 2004 00:12: 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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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Monday, January 5 2004 01:41
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Homepage
Startled and overwhelmed, the Solaran troops were decimated and had to fall back. Overstretched and outnumbered, the Solarans recalled General Frederic, moving Commandant Krilon out to the front where Hugo had attacked them. Thinking that they had won and expecting an answer from Sol before picking up the pace, on their march to Solaria they were only looking forwards. Coming from Easton and the west coast were Solaran armies, which descended on the rear of the Kylenian army. The rear fell almost instantly, along with supply trains and several of the mages that had gone back to walk with each other, rather than the troops. When they got to the meat of the Kylenian army, they formed a wedge and drove it through the middle of the army. From the walls of a nearby fort, archers and mages bombarded the armies, while pikemen from the trenches returned with a vengeance, charging into the lines of Kylenian troops before drawing their swords and fighting for Sol. Many of the Solaran troops could be heard shouting 'Kill those Populist scum' and 'death to traitors', which confused some of the lower-level soldiers of the Kylenians. After all, weren't the Solarans basically Populists themselves? -------------------- "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 Monday, January 5 2004 11:48
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Things did not look good for Captain Kevin. He was trapped inside the small city at the docks. Things had backfired on him. However, Sergeant Lincoln had already left with the Doomguard. Kevin's unit had backed off, waiting for there Captain a short distance from the town. Part of his mission was accomplished. He couldn't get the traitors here today but at least the Doomguard is safe. Kevin thought for a minute. He noticed a small boat at the docks that wasn't being guarded. He snuck over to it and climbed in. He removed the rope holding the boat to the docks and began to row it away. He stayed close to shore but tried to avoid attracting attention. Right after he was out of the town's site, he left the boat at shore, and began to search for his unit. It didn't take too long; they were actually looking for the Captain as well. Some scouts found him and he was brought back to camp. He ordered that the unit was to return to Solarian territory to recieve new orders from command. -------------------- "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 Monday, January 5 2004 14:52
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Linda looked over her reports once more. So far the Solaran assassins have proved elusive. Intelligence had confirmed when they crossed the Solaran border, but after that, they appear to have disappeared into the rural areas. But there was still hope. Once that entered the towns, they will doubtlessly be found. A solitary "accomplished mage" will not be able to hide well in a town where few have even seen magic being performed. And accomplishments will mark a man out, making him easier for agents to spot. The best thing to do about this, then, is to ignore it. She turned to the next few reports, which detailed the "acquistion" of weapons. To avoid antagonising SAFT, she had assigned populist-loyal raiders to attack shipments only after they have left SAFT hands, and to minimise casualties. This was already bearing fruit, with an entire batch of crossbows being diverted to populist recruits. Not enough, of course, but having such simple to use weapons would offset her disadvantages in training and discipline. Next few reports. Solaran troop dispositions. It appeared that Alliance attacks to the north are making Sol bolster his northern flank by transferring men and material from the southeast. Perhaps then this would be the perfect time to put some more pressure on our emperor... Linda smiled to herself. --- Far to the northeast, the battle around the Solaran defences had descended into a confused three way melee. Eastern populists were perfectly happy to kill any imperialists they meet, Solaran or Alliance. In a matter of minutes, all semblence of battle lines had been broken into an utter free-for-all. However, such confusion worked to the advantage of the populists. Without any space for manuever, any territory to defend, all armies were equal. Populist axemen and spearmen excelled without any real shield wall defenses, and imperial advantages in cavalry were nullified by the lack of room for organise any real charges. As the battle wore on, Alliance archers and mages, traditionally the strengths of an imperial army, became liabilities as the undulating battle lines left no real targets, instead making them obstruct their own forces. When finally additional Solaran forces came into play, and the populists began to dissolve cluster by cluster back into the surrounding wilderness, they had managed to loot much of the Alliance baggage train, and struck many painful blows against their more vulnerable units. All in a day's work. Now it was simply left for the imperialists to kill each other, and everyone will be happy. --- There would be no stop to it. There was another note the next day, laid carefully under Jehan Sol's pillow. "We can strike whenever, and wherever. With love from Linda." Posts: 269 | Registered: Saturday, May 24 2003 07:00 |
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Shaper
Member # 517
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written Monday, January 5 2004 15:40
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The fleet that eventually returned to Pralgad was significantly larger than the one that had first set out from Aizo. First, there had been an Imperial ship containing the Emperor's council. This had been encountered two weeks after leaving Aizo, and the council had had a long discussion with the General, informing him of the utter destruction of the Ironcladist army and his duty to retake Pralgad for the Ironclad council. When asked why they had left Gideon Ironclad on Pralgad, they replied that he had fallen in battle. When informed that he was alive and well, and that the south-east of Pralgad was still loyal to him (this is a little the Populist rebellion), the council had little to say. The General promised that council that he was still loyal to the Ironclad line at present, although he was aware there were historical precedents for other Imperial candidates than relatives of the previous emperor. The council were most disappointed. Next was the convoy of Kylenian diplomats. Unfortunately, they were not aware of the assination of Dorian Kylen, and had little success persuading Warderson of his worth as an Imperial candidate. After that, an Alliance ship encountered Warderson's fleet. The information they had for him contrasted sharply with that he had been receiving from the Solaran agent-indeed, in almost every detail. In disgust, Warderson refused to answer them in any particular, or grant further audiences to the Solaran. The last ship to encounter the fleet hailed from White Peak island. By this time the army was so close to Pralgad that the Ironcladist envoys had lost sight of land less than half-way into their voyage. Warderson was amazed to hear news which no-one had told him, news indeed no-one from the other envoys would credit-specifically that Gideon Ironclad seemed to have found his feet at last, and was marching south to meet up with the returning Imperial Army, thence to reconquer Pralgad. At the suggestion of Major Tarem, Warderson had ordered each of the arriving ships repainted in Imperial Navy blue and gold, whether or not they wanted it. The result was that only the General and his staff knew for sure how many ships had joined the convoy. Ironclad's people weren't aware that any had, and their suspicions were allayed by the lack of apparently non-Imperial ships. Meanwhile, two Imperial frigates had gone ahead, with despatches to be delivered to all of the leaders of the factions. General Corim Warderson had returned from Aizo, and with him sanity. All of the faction leaders were asked to come to the port where the Aizoan Imperial Army had chosen to land, for immediate peace talks. The General intended to crush the Populist rebellion and see the Emperor properly chosen, with no further infighting. What the General did not know was that the area he had chosen to land, while ostensibly under Ironclad control, was very much in the hands of the Populist guerrilas. He would soon be forced to prove himself in a manner he had not at all anticipated. Major Tarem, on the other hand, had anticipated plenty. OOC:  The brown is sea patrolled by Imperial Navy, the orange dot is the city where they've landed, the orange line is the border of where they're trying to establish a presence. Most of the army is still on the boats. Morgan and Zephyr, you're both in the landing parties unless you particularly want not to be. Feel free to encounter angry populists as the fancy takes you. -E- -------------------- Let them eat cake! Polaris Boards: The misc board's thriving, and there're plenty good RPs. Join now! H00rj! Posts: 2314 | Registered: Tuesday, January 15 2002 08:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Monday, January 5 2004 17:38
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This day had been a very busy day. The remnants of the fighting Solaran, Alliance, and Populist armies had disengaged and drawn back to various towns and cities to lick their wounds. Populists all over the continent had been rising up in a new surge, due to many factors including Linda's speech and the perceived victory over the Alliance and Solarans. The Imperial army had finally returned from the Aizoan front after over ten years, to resolve the chaos. Gideon Ironclad had finally come to the SAFT headquarters on one of the best ships in their fleet, to meet Vida. And the White Peak army had poured out of the SAFT transports as the sun rose, crushing the last of the Solaran army left in eastern Pralgrad, along with any Populist opposition. The Solarans were not taken completely by surprise, admittedly. The higher concentration of SAFT ships in the White Peak area had made many people suspicious, and although White Peak had been ignored, it had not been forgotten. The ships had been sighted in the early hours of the day, and when they reached the shore, they received a considerable greeting. But the Solarans had not expected such a ferocious assault, and they were soon dropping weapons and running straight out. The well-trained forces, bursting with energy, had marched and ridden straight through all resistance, and even the new uprising of Populists had quickly lost heart when faced with the oncoming tide of Imperialists. Hearing of this invasion, the remaining Imperialists in eastern Pralgrad had risen up under any old leaders they could find, and before the sun had set once more, Ironclad's forces were in control of land from the south coast all the way to the north. Allied and Populist resistance still existed, of course, but the Alliance had been pushed west and the Populists were back to isolated pockets of resistance. Noteworthy resistance, though, as the Imperial army learned in the next few days; and the Alliance had been pushed aside, forced to fight Sol on a greater scale, but not destroyed. Certainly not destroyed. ***** "Alright, sir, if you'll just -" "Wait." Crandall looked back at Gideon Ironclad, standing on deck, looking down at him. "Is something wrong?" "Who are you? I mean, who are you really?" "What he means is, there is no 'sick captain'," Kellen interjected. "Oh... right. Well. I guess we'd better go back on board." Crandall walked nervously back to the Emperor, along with two burly sailors. He walked with Ironclad into his office-cabin; Kellen and a few other Imperial soldiers went in with them. "Yes, you're right, sir, the captain is not sick. I don't know where he is; I hope he's dead, to tell you the truth." Gideon looked at him inquisitively. "Go on." "Well... I hate to say this, but the SAFT is not inpenetrable. The old captain was a traitor. A Populist traitor. Vida is not an enemy of the Populists, not at all, but she is also not your enemy. Linda put you in grave danger by getting you onto that dock, and Vida would never have wanted you to see her, at least not there. You see - the old captain went over to the Populists, and tried to make me join him. I threw him overboard; he was quite light. He meant to get you to that dock for Linda, but I thought it was just a weapons pickup. I made a mistake. I took control of the ship, but did just what he wanted anyway. But it doesn't matter now, I suppose - you will forgive me, right? After all, you're safe now..." "Wait. Why did you tell me he was sick?" "Oh, well... I wanted you to trust me, I didn't want you thinking any more of this ship had gone over to the Populists. And we haven't; we're all loyal to Vida, now that the captain's gone, and hopefully Vida will be loyal to you." "Then I forgive you," said the Emperor, smiling. "All's well that end's well, I guess." As the sailors and the Imperialists with their respective leaders stepped onto the dock, Gideon Ironclad felt very proud to be in on this little secret. Kellen, however, was not so sure; he kept both eyes on Crandall, whenever possible. OOC: OK, so now Gideon and Vida are together... premonition can describe their meeting... and then I guess they both go to Warderson, if Vida wants to... anyway, that's around the time that this is going on. -------------------- 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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Guardian
Member # 2339
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written Monday, January 5 2004 17:47
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Omlette, will the populists that Morgan and I encounter happen to be hostile guerillas? If so, would we be allowed to...dispose of them? And, 한국어? -------------------- 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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Triad Mage
Member # 7
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written Tuesday, January 6 2004 01:14
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Homepage
*sigh* Everyone misunderstood my post - my northern flank is the sea, and I withdrew all of my troops from Ironclad territory to fight the Alliance in central Pralgrad. -------------------- "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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Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
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written Tuesday, January 6 2004 01:51
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Petoria stays in the lab for three days straight studying the piece of cloth. She sleeps on a bed in a corner of the room and eats all of her meals at the City Hall. Upon performing several chemical tests, she discovers that the cloth is made of an exceptionally rare material found at only one location in Pralgrad, the infamous Saxton School of Magic. This magic school is known for having produced some of the most powerful mages known to Pralgrad. Many of these mages either took to life as a hermit, settled down in small towns under assumed names, or joined the Imperial Army. However, pinpointing one of them would require further study of the cloth swatch. She knows that only a few of them are still alive yet, but they all have had detailed profiles written about them. Petoria tells the mages around her to go and find her all the information on Saxton that they can while she performs more tests. The mages comply and set to work locating what they can. Petoria moves onto another test, this time a visual test with a strong hand lens. As she looks over the cloth, she notices two intact symbols sewn into the cloth and half of one where it was torn on the thorn bush. They are most peculiar, so she draws them on a piece of parchment for later reference The symbols are " λ " and " Ψ ". She then observes that the symbols are woven into the black fabric with metallic silver and gold threads. Very odd indeed. That type of thread also could only be found at the Saxton School of Magic. She then tests the strength of the cloth, finding it to be remarkably strong. This goes against the theory that it just tore off the robes when it was caught in the thorn bushes. She examines it closer and notices that the cloth is not actually torn, but severed cleanly. Most likely by a sharp blade. She notes this on the parchment and moves onto another test. Her next test involves any scent coming off the cloth. She takes the cloth to her nose and sniffs at it intently. It has a peculiar mixture of odors. She isolates four separate scents in the cloth. One smells of smoke from battle or a campfire. A second odor smells strangely like that of old parchments and tomes. A third gives her the impression of pure alcohol, stinging her nose slightly. The fourth scent is horrific and she can easily discern it as that of stagnant water. These all add up to general assumptions. The smell of smoke most likely either came from being close to a campfire for a long period of time or from using various fire spells, thus leaving the scent on the clothing from the heat and smoke. The old parchment smell points to the possibility of the mage having spent an extensive amount of time in a dusty old library or once having been a merchant selling parchment spells for a living in a small town. The pure alcohol indicates that the person was either in a tavern lately, or was recently around various chemicals in a laboratory. It had to have been recently, as those particular odors don't last very long. The stagnant water scent isn't difficult to explain. It simply means that the person has either been through a swamp recently or the robes had been left somewhere damp for a long time. The former seems more likely. So, each of these things adds up and Petoria thinks through each possibility carefully, crossing out the unlikely. She comes to the conclusion that this mage most likely spent time in an Tavern or lab recently, casts strong fire spells, had spent a while in a room full of old books and parchments, and has been through a swamp lately. Having written down her theory, she moves on. She has one more test to perform. Magic resistance of the cloth. Putting a small piece of the cloth in a glass box, she seals it in and has the mages bombard it with various magical spells. When they are finished, Petoria sees that the cloth is glowing a bright orange, but is completely intact. This means that the robes are very resistant to magic, cold, and fire. Whoever is wearing these robes must be terribly powerful and immune to most attack. She smiles, satisfied that she will have little trouble discerning who this mage is from the gathered data. She now waits on the other mages to bring her the literature on Saxton and its mages that she wants to look through. -------------------- "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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Shaper
Member # 517
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written Tuesday, January 6 2004 08:20
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Zephyr: yes, that's what I said. Although try not to spend too long describing a single fight-concentrate on trying to advance the plot. IC: The Imperial Army has discovered a surprising amount of unfriendliness and even outright resistance. Although the mayor of Heston (the port) assured the General it was nothing, Major Tarem's sources suggest that he himself will bear watching. Meanwhile, the full scale of the Populist uprising has begun to come to light. Fearing potential discord, half the navy has been ordered to discharge the troops in their transport ships-a force no ragtag populists will want to tangle with. -E- -------------------- Let them eat cake! Polaris Boards: The misc board's thriving, and there're plenty good RPs. Join now! H00rj! Posts: 2314 | Registered: Tuesday, January 15 2002 08:00 |
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Shaper
Member # 22
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written Tuesday, January 6 2004 11:01
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Londar breathed in the fresh air of home. Here they were, in a small seaport (the place they had set out from, in fact). Most of the lads were heading over to the local bar, but Londar had other plans. Regardless, he'd unlikely be welcome with that crowd - he'd never gotten on with the idiotic core that the army mostly comprised of. No, he knew a nice quiet place that would suit him fine. He made his way across town, and entered the Crossed Lion. At the last moment between opening the door and going in, he remembered he still had his uniform on.... ....and was met by an incoming beer mug. He thought fast, brought his bow around his shoulder, using it as a shield against it. "Get out of town, Imperial scum!" shouted one drunk, in a slurred tone. Londar tried to draw himself up and look intimidating, but was only met by more beer mugs. There was only one thing for it. Faster then lightning, he whipped his bow round once more, and before anyone knew, an arrow had whistled through the room, and knocking a beer mug out of a would assailant's hand. He drew himself up once more and said, "I would like a drink, bartender. Unless anyone has a problem with that?" Silence had never sounded so quiet. -------------------- KazeArctica: "Imagine...wangs everywhere...and tentacles. Nothing but wangs and tentacles! And no pants!" Posts: 2862 | Registered: Tuesday, October 2 2001 07:00 |