The Vale RP
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| Author | Topic: The Vale RP |
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Shaper
Member # 7420
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written Saturday, December 15 2007 16:51
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Vlad’s robes were ruined. The parts that weren’t missing were either badly torn or burned. Now he and Trinculo sat before the Triad, the latter awed by the size of the chamber they were in while the former folded his arms in anger. “I didn’t know you were the one hiring, Dana.” “You disrespectful little worm! Never call me by my given name! I am the Most High Priest, and you will refer to me thus! You’re lucky enough that I don’t have you arrested immediately for you stunt with the skyship or your prior crimes in this city!” “I’ve been to this city before?” Once again, Vlad looked to Trinculo. The Least spoke up, “Yes, Master. At the last Gathering of the Faithful, you represented the Church of TM. You ended up taking some hazia and removing your clothes in front of the High Priestess of Nicothodes, after which you seduced and, um, had relation with the High Priestess of Nikki.“ “Oh, yeah, I remember now! That was also the first time I met Dana’s mother. Such a sweet old lady. What a busy night that was!” The Most High Priest’s face was now beet red. “One more word, Vladamir, and we’ll throw from the city walls!” “Ha! That’s not even the first time someone’s threaded to do something like that to me today! You surly *** unoriginal knotty-pated ***** mold-wrapped ****!” The Most High Archmage was not amused, “Enough of this banter! I have no interest in your petty squabbles. Vladamir Vortigern, you have been allowed before this most esteemed Triad in recognition of your abilities. You will perform a task for us and we will do our best to forget the various atrocities you have committed against our city, the kingdom, and all that is good and pure. Refuse, and your banning from Manarina resumes immediately!” Vladimir took three seconds to come to a conclusion, “Ah, yes, you can take your quest and shove it so far up your **** tearing out **** horrible pain **** all over your **** ****!“ "Guards! Detain the X-High Priest and remove him from these chambers!" "I wouldn't help you bastards if the fate of the world depended on it!" Vlad continued to spew insults as he was being dragged out, "Oh, and you might want to get that big ***** hole in the side of your precious city checked out!" - Vlad found himself in the Manarina dungeons, awaiting the next skyship to take him as far away from the city as possible. A young priestess was tending to his burns. Trinculo was pacing, second guessing his decision to travel with Vlad, like he had every second since he first made the decision. “Master, we traveled all this way to take the quest only to refuse it and get put in prison? Maybe if you beg forgiveness they’ll still give you the job.” “Never! I loath those plutocrats! Those pretentious basket-cockles! I would sooner work to undo whatever their deepest desires were, to smash their dreams into oblivion, let them wallow in darkness! I would devote my life to it.” The young priestess spoke, “I see your convictions are strong. I respect that.” “I don’t remember saying you could speak. You had better wait for my request!” The priestess was a bit intimidated, but she continued none the less, “Would you do anything to bring down the Triad? Even if it meant giving up the one thing you hold dear?” “A ’38 Chateau Diki on a midsummer night, sandwiched between the Weapon Wench and the Most High Priest’s mom?” “What? Ew, no! Your magic! Don’t you see? My name is Belinda. I work for the Anama and-“ “Yawn! Boring! Not interested in your life story! Get to the point!” Belinda sighed, “His Eminence, Ahonar, is offering a massive reward as well. You need money, yes? The Anama’s pockets are deep. You will live the rest of your life in carefree bliss. And to do so you only need to do what you already want to.” “When do we start?” “Master! Uh, you do know that they are asking you to ensure the Vale is destroyed, right? You would have no more powers. I think you should reconsider.” Vlad wiped some of the grim out of his eyes. For the first time he noticed how beautiful Belinda was. Her gentle hands upon his slightly charred skin, her supple lips pursed in hope that he would accept her offer, her huge eyes tearing up in fear of the potential flaming to come. But Vlad did not falem his problems away this time, “Uh, my lady, I will have to think on your offer.” Trinculo was too enraged to notice his master's unusual response, “I think it's time for you to leave! My master will never work for you or your kind!” “Remember, oh, High Priest, we can give you’re heart’s desire.” Belinda got comfortably close placed her hands near Vlad's crotch to heal some of his most painful wounds. She gently whispered to him, “All you need to do is sabotage those you whom you despise, and we can give you anything.” Her breath was so soft in his ear, “Anything.” With that she rose, stuck out her tongue out at Trinculo, and left Vlad’s cell. For once, the X-High Priest was not sure what to say. “Can you believe her, master? To have the audacity to make such an offer, as if you would be so gullible as to accept.” “Heh, indeed. Preposterous.” Vlad moved towards the entrance to his cell and banged on the bars. “Guard! Guard. Tell the Most High Priest I wish to apologize for my behavior. I have reconsider his offer.” -------------------- You lose. Posts: 2156 | Registered: Thursday, August 24 2006 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 8030
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written Saturday, December 15 2007 16:51
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Chapter 4 -1 Ivanhoe laughed. The exterior walls of the ramparts were composed of a white sandstone conglomerate. However, he reinforced the walls with durable treated granite. Anama boulders could easily destroy the outer shell within three days, but penetrating the granite would consume two weeks. Ivanhoe regained composure. He knew the Anama were a formidable foe. His citizens were incapable of proper battle, which prevented him from battling the formation. He stared at the ceiling, as if he was imploring for answers. The midst of an hour passed. The waxen candle disintegrated to a stub and the walls turned dark. Ivanhoe lit another candle thoughtfully. Then an epiphany struck him. Ivanhoe scavenged for a sheet of papyrus. He withdrew a felt-tipped pen from his drawer and began composing a challenge. It read as follows: "From General Ivanhoe, defender of Bustoke: I hereby address the Anama. I fail to ascertain the motives for capturing Bustoke, as I have nothing that would interest you. However, I propose a challenge. The basis of the challenges is as follows: If I manage to destroy all ten of your catapults you shall vow to leave Bustoke permanently and acknowledge my independence as sovereign. In return I shall provide you with a quality article of mithril chain mail, as I possess two. If you wish to respond, project a message laden arrow over the ramparts." --2 Bustoke claimed a modest public armory. Various implements of war rested upon cobwebbed tables. Ivanhoe scanned the room. In the corner was four bows and thirteen quivers. He stumbled towards its location, regarding the low ceiling simultaneously. He selected a simple ash bow and loaded quiver. Ivanhoe securely locked the public armory in order to prevent over zealous citizens from turning vigilante. He navigated the halls in dim light, careful not to stir sleeping individuals. ---3 Upon the ramparts now, Ivanhoe witnessed the scene below. Since catapults could not be operated in the dark, the Anama lay at rest. He heard several troops conversing in low, jolly voices. He raised the bow, crossed his fingers and fired. Ivanhoe sighed in relief. His training with archery was short and his aim progressive. He had not wished for anyone to be wounded, and his wish was granted. Hid did, however, succeed in startling the conversing men. Ivanhoe left the ramparts satisfied by the fact his message landed without err. -------------------- A Bile Crux Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00 |
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Guardian
Member # 5360
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written Saturday, December 15 2007 19:10
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The Anama met him in the central chapel. He was a short, muscular man, and wore his sword, in an elaborate sheathe, openly. Gentle designs in gold swirled over his elaborate purple robe and spilled seamlessly onto his red cape. Jade trinkets tinkled on him, hanging from various miniscule loops of dyed animal hides. A perfectly gentle, smiling face greeted Munigant's fearsome visage. Little brown eyes held his face without wavering or flinching away. "Greetings, High Collector! I bring offerings and tidings from the Anama!" "I am aware." Munigant's black eyes reflected the Anama's warmth back at him. The Anama discussed trifles for a time. His trip, his name(Nemat), the recent Manarinan politics, some news about a crashed skyship, all filled with subtle slights to Nalyd and magic. Munigant never spoke or moved. He lapsed into a half-meditative state, and began to hunger. Soon, however, it was time for daily services. Munigant left the babbling Anama without a word, following the other monks out of the courtyard into the chapel. At the last moment, Munigant turned around and saw the Anama quickly disguising a calculating look. "You are welcome to join us in Nalyd's retaking." The Anama followed silently, without a word. -------------------------------------------------- Within the chapel, Munigant stood behind the altar as always. A pillar of curling black smoke formed as he waited for the remainder of the monks to file in somberly. The Anama stood uncomfortably in the back of the room, tinkling awkwardly. Munigant recited from the great bloodstained book upon the altar, intoned the teachings of Nalyd, and the ways of his monks. He swirled the smoke into the sacred symbols, gave offerings of golden dust, spilled his blood onto the pages. He recited the holy words and sent power coursing among the walls of the chapel. He spilled liquid fire into the braziers to either side and let it swirl into the air, sending drops showing into the air above the monks, adding to the intricate burn designs on the ceiling. Lastly, he slammed the great book shut and sent the undead bats flying away from among the rafters. The monks stood as one and the air filled with the slow, contemplative discussions of the Vale. Munigant all but drifted to the Anama, who was by now red-faced and squirming. "Now, to business." -------------------- Fear us, mortals, but never envy, for though we burn with power, our fuel is our sorrows. Posts: 1636 | Registered: Wednesday, January 5 2005 08:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 7557
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 06:16
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Jeran sat for a moment, considering the situation. Magic was dying, no-one knew why. That had him screwed pretty well. It was alright for the simpering pansies they called mages in these parts but if magic went he would most likely go with it, probably in a form along the lines of a small pile of dust. Interestingly enough, at this point he actually felt better magic-wise then he had in years. “Tell me” he asked “What exactly is it you want me to do?” “Magic is fading” the Lich stated simply. “My magic is fading, no-one knows why. I want to know, you want to know” “Personally I feel great” Jeran said, finishing off the last on his plate. He stood up, taking his weapon from were it lay. Dazzle inclined his skull at the mysterious weapon in mild interest. “I have never seen such a blade as yours wanderer” he said tactfully “Were did you acquire it from?” Jeran thought about it for a second, then gently slipped the blade from its scabbard. It was a mysterious mix of designs, the blade being the traditional length, starting off straight for the first foot or so then attaining a moderate curve outwards without changing thickness. It gave the weapon a truly horrific damage potential when loaded with centrifugal force yet probably made quite a reasonable weapon when used on personal combat. “I forged it” Jeran said, coming to a decision. “I know not what metal it is, I stole it from the Anama, they were going to destroy it. Them and their cursed purity factories.” “Interesting” said Dazzle “The metal would have to be much stronger then steel yet more workable to avoid shattering from the stress placed along the lower curve” “I was trained as a smith by my foster parents” Jeran explained, feeling considerably more at ease with the odd being after a decent meal and conversation at something he was good at. “Foster?” Inquired Dazzle. “My parents abandoned me because of my colouring” He indicated his face which was as blue as his arms and legs. There was no sorrow in his tone. “Have you ever discovered why your pallor is as it is?” “Never. All I know is I have aptitude in magic and I can fight like no other” Dazzle considered the odd creature. His voice had been full of pride when he had mentioned his skill, and Dazzle’s ancient senses could tell the man was brimming with at least enough magic as any reasonably trained wizard. Yet this made no sense, living Wizards had a talent to manipulate magic and had to memorize their spells before they could use them. But only Lich and other magically created beings could actually store raw, untamed magic within their own structure. Yet this human had such ability. Dazzle was intrigued, yet would not forget the mission at hand. “I still await your answer” he said, letting a tiny hardness seep into his tone. “I won’t help the Anama. They can never accept me, I’m just as perceptive as you here Dazzle, I know what I am, at least in a basic sense. I’m a mutant, an anomaly; possibly even a demon and frankly at this point I don’t give a damn. The Anama would like nothing better then to render me down to base elements and file my remains away in a jar marked “Unknown Sample” I’m not helping them” Dazzle was vaguely impressed by this tirade. He brought himself up to his fully height, which was still slightly shorter then his guest. “I understand your feelings friend” He said in his not-voice “I have no love for the priesthood; they seek me in my castle to destroy me. As do all their mad crusaders, no. The Anama are not the way” “Then what?” The lich turned to the wall. Jeran watched with interest as the lich summoned the essence of water in preparation for a spell. He watched as the sphere of magical energy expanded and melded with the creatures spells; finally augmenting into a scrying pool. “Watch” Dazzle said. Jeran moved closer, watching as tiny motes of light danced their way across the surface of the summoning, seeking their target. Finally an image resolved itself from the ripples. “Bunstoke!” Jeran gasped. “It is under attack. By the Anama” Dazzle hissed. Jeran watched as a sea of military tents came into view. The walls of Bunstoke were visibly scared from the heavy bombardment by the Anama catapults. He saw blessed boulders hurtle through the air to strike the outer turret and explode in huge gouts of holy energy. On the wall a pathetic knot of defenders fired arrows down into the mass. “That was some time ago” Said Dazzle, turning back to him. “By now they will be firmly entrenched into a siege, if you wish to help I will not stand in your way” “I will help them” Jeran said simply. Dazzle noticed a fire in the mans dark eyes that had not been there before. “I would expect nothing less, however there is the problem of exactly what to do afterwards” “I don’t care, I’ll help the people of Bunstoke how I can, I can use fire to burn their tents, invisibility to assassinate their priests and my sword to slay their troops” “But what of the time after? Even if Bunstoke is saved the Anama are unlikely to give up so easily” “That’s my concern. Not yours. You can help us if you wish, but I wouldn’t blame you if you stayed out of this” Jeran said, his voice calmer now his Sword was back in place about his shoulders. Dazzle sighed. There was nothing much he could do if the human decided to leave. “I will think upon what you have said human. In the meantime I will entail one of my shades to escort you from this castle to the exit of the maze on the road back to Bunstoke” he said. “That’ll be enough, I depart at once” Without a backward glance Jeran strode from the hall, leaving a slightly miffed lich and a plateful of leftovers. Posts: 942 | Registered: Sunday, October 8 2006 07:00 |
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Canned
Member # 8014
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 10:44
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I thought you were going to ignore my last post! Oh well. -------------------- It rolled his eyes, "Don't call me stupid. I know I can't learn everything. And as for being stupid, you don't even know where my brain is! I'm just kidding. Knowledge and intelligence are two different things." "Enough," said Fi. "Tell me about yourself" It laughed, "There is not much! But I will say anyway." It told of everything that has happened to It. "And as for why that Anama attacked me, he was drunk! He thought I was a demon! Geez. Are you some Anama or something?" -------------------- I can transform into almost anything, but not sanity -Iffy Muffins n' Hell|Muffins n' Hell: The Muffins Are Back Again I like this image Not in your shed -We are still under developement, but help would be nice. By the way, most of the conversation goes in the Moderator forum, in case your confused. Everyone, just call me Iffy. Please. Posts: 1799 | Registered: Sunday, February 4 2007 08:00 |
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Agent
Member # 8030
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 11:49
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----4 Ivanhoe paced impatiently. He would need to know the Anama's answer to further his plans. Ivanhoe embedded his face into his palms. He had little hope and the vibrant crashes kept him awake longer than he wanted. -------------------- A Bile Crux Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00 |
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Agent
Member # 4574
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 12:22
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OOC: I only do a few posts a day, Ex, so you don't have to remind me every few posts. IC: Manarina With a patient hatred, the Most High Preist stuffed a sponge in each of his ears, to filter out the... more choicier words of Vlad. Particularily, anything other then the answer to the question, yes or no. It also helped get rid of the horrid noise of the rock being repaired. Walking to the cell, he passed by a nursemaid coming up the way. She was an interesting one, she was. Came fleeing from the north when the Anama started taking over, along with a whole other wave of refugees. She had an odd ring, and when he asked her about it her eyes would go misty and she would say it was her wedding ring. The way she avoided the subject, you'd think the guy left her. She also said that she learned all she knew about magic and healing from him... The Most High Preist arrived at the cell, and making sure the sponges were working, repeated the request. Bustoke Reading the note for the umpteenth time, Zacharias finally flipped it over, and wrote his answer on the back. Then, carefully rerolling the scroll, he walked out of his tent with a bow and arrow. Knowing the sentries on the wall might be about to shoot, he made a great show of securing the scroll on the arrow. Zacharias saw his chance immediantly. A child on the ramparts, probably a sleepwalker. He muttered under his breath, "Alorael, God of Accuracy and Precision, guide my arrow." and loosed the arrow quickly. Guided by Alorael or just pure skill, the arrow implanted it self in the child's skull. When the sentires ran alarmed to the corpse, they would find the message, stained with the kid's blood, with two words: Agreed. Noon. Walking back into his tent calmly, an aide asked what would happen if the catapults were dismantled. Zacharias answered quite truthfully, should the man succeed his head would end up on a pike as an example to those who defy the Anama. Then, with a weary order, the catapults began their barrage again, while the other soldiers pounded the walls menially with battering rams. OOC: 7557: I'm thinking your character should arrive as the guards rush Ex after dismantling the final catapult. -------------------- "I'm happy I'm the mentally disturbed person I am." -Nioca "Yes, Iffy is a demon." -Iffy The Two Universal Truthes: "All I know is that I know nothing" -Socrates "I think, therefore I am." -René Descartes Posts: 1186 | Registered: Friday, June 18 2004 07:00 |
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Warrior
Member # 12481
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 12:43
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"Don't twist my words. I didn't call you stupid, I simply stated the fact that there are things you can't learn in one week. Now, answer my other two questions. Who are you, and where are you from?" Fi snapped, green eyes glittering with anger. -------------------- Third generation geek and heathen! Posts: 93 | Registered: Tuesday, December 11 2007 08:00 |
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Canned
Member # 8014
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 12:52
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It already told her. -------------------- It laughed, "Why are you getting so angry? Calm down! Geez." It got a disterbing image. -------------------- I can transform into almost anything, but not sanity -Iffy Muffins n' Hell|Muffins n' Hell: The Muffins Are Back Again I like this image Not in your shed -We are still under developement, but help would be nice. By the way, most of the conversation goes in the Moderator forum, in case your confused. Everyone, just call me Iffy. Please. Posts: 1799 | Registered: Sunday, February 4 2007 08:00 |
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Agent
Member # 8030
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 14:58
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Chapter 5 -1 Ivanhoe was ebullient about the Anama accepting his challenge, but slaying a child was egregious. His council voted unanimously that all citizens refrain from entering the ramparts or an other structure in the city walls. Regardless of various important matters, Ivanhoe was vulnerable at the moment. He was armored by a hard leather jerkin, and lacked the Excalibur at his side. He had but a single prepared arrow and a bow of Kag to aid him. Ivanhoe sleuthed among the summer trees. His stealth earned him the cloak of birdsong and breeze. Comforted by his silence, Ivanhoe hastened slightly. Ivanhoe squinted in the dying sunlight. The Anama had ceased fire for the night. Roughly thirty yards from his location lay a sturdy catapult. Ivanhoe quickly ignited his arrow and fired. The flames illuminated his target. A crudely crafted tapestry adorning the siege weapon ignited. The tapestry disintegrated quickly, sparing the catapult from any harm. Ivanhoe cursed loudly. Revealing his location caused him to curse again, and finally returning to his senses he fled. As he sprinted, a well-guided arrow struck his ear. A small chunk of flesh fell the ground, leaving his ear in agony. Adrenaline caused him to ignore the pain. Eventually he reached Cletus' basket, jumped in the window, and shut the iron shutters. Ivanhoe was extremely disappointed. He had failed to destroy a catapult, and now another day had passed. -------------------- A Bile Crux Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00 |
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Guardian
Member # 5360
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written Sunday, December 16 2007 19:15
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Munigant took the flustered Anama to his private office. Between the tiny undead squirrels tending to his various experiments and the freakish broadsword on the wall, the Anama felt awkward, to say the least. He began to cough on Munigant's smoke. "Why have you come here, Anama?" "I *cough* bring an order *hack* from the High Anama." A gaudy scroll of gold leaf and elaborate script was withdrawn from the Anama's robes, and placed in Munigant's outstretched palm. quote:Munigant looked at the Anama. "We will not comply. Our faith is sacred and the renunciation of it for your man-godling would ensure the doom of both our souls and mortal minds. Why should we obey? The Anama have no presence here, nor anywhere near our Chapel. Leave now, Anama, or I shall turn you into a servant undead." "Ah, but I don't believe that you understand, Munigant." The crafty gleam was back to the Anama's gaze. "We do have a presence here- you just haven't noticed it." With that, four men dressed in monks' clothing slammed open his door and, with drawn blades, advanced on the desk. A fat one snickered. The squirrels swarmed him, biting and clawing with wild abandon, ripping bit by bit to the exposed arteries. The other three men and the representative shattered the fragile creatures with overdone sweeps of their blades. Munigant stood and, apparently drawing something out of his shroud of smoke, threw a tiny bolt of blackness at the false monks with great speed. Quickly repeating the motion, Munigant hailed deadly shreds moving at great speeds upon them. Pieces ripping straight through their flesh, the men fell down, dead or wounded. The representative was still alive. Munigant quickly clawed out the throats of the others once he had bleached them of their delicious pain. Leaning over the bloody face of the Anama, Munigant snarled and drew his fang-filled mouth closer to the Anama's throat. Screaming, the Anama ripped at one of his jade trinkets and, crushing it into powder, disappeared. -------------------------------------------------- When Munigant stepped outside, he was treated to silence. After searching for a few minutes, he found bodies. The bodies of monks and presumably Anama soldiers, more Anama than monks, were littered here. The bodies of both sides were hacked and burnt, some half-melted or with frost growing on them. A trail of blood and bodies led into the next room. And again, to the next. And the next, and the next, and still another. Finally, he came upon a wounded and tired group of monks surrounded by the more Anama bodies. Between the dead monks and the ones here, everyone was accounted for. "High Collector! It is good to see that you survived the attack, we had thought you dead. Come, help us with the wounded." Apparently, the bulk of the Anama force had dispersed once the monks had grouped together and begun a coordinated defense. They were still somewhere in the temple, but they had lost the element of surprise. Once the wounded were tended to, they began the conversion of the dead monks to Undeath as shades to be kept in the Aquarium of Souls, and the dead Anama soldiers as as mindless zombie servants. Most of the monks had been taken by surprise and overpowered by numbers, but after the first few deaths, a telepathic call had been sent among the monks to regroup in the library. Very few monks had been injured after that, and the Anama deaths were significant. Munigant explained what had happened with the leader, and began to organize a method of purging the Anama. -------------------------------------------------- In the palace of Ahonar, a lone messenger in a great and echoing hall all but scurried towards a giant man, radiating light. A papaer was exchanged. "The takeover of the Chapel was unsuccessful." The messenger nodded and agreed, all the time trying to look closer at the magnificent demigod, to soak in his greatness. "We will need to send reinforcements." The man agreed again, absently, while taking in the strong features of this man that he worshiped. "See to it that the man we sent is executed. I will choose the reinforcements later." Th messenger blinked rapidly,and desperately tried to remember what the demigod had said. He had been thinking about the strong smoothness of the god's skin, how it almost seemed to be wooden in it's sheen. "Go, messenger, go." He went. [ Sunday, December 16, 2007 19:16: Message edited by: Thoughts in Chaos ] -------------------- Fear us, mortals, but never envy, for though we burn with power, our fuel is our sorrows. Posts: 1636 | Registered: Wednesday, January 5 2005 08:00 |
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Agent
Member # 4574
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written Monday, December 17 2007 14:08
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Anamapolis Ahonar thought absentmindedly. The eastern peninsula had mostly gone quietly, other then Bustoke. They had to be put down fast before other cities heard of it, or there might be more rebellions. Meanwhile, the borders on the central peninsula were well drawn, with everything equal to or north of the lake being Anama territory, de facto or de jure. The good thing was, with the Banishment of the Gods and the Defeat of the Creator, and most importantly the Dying Vale, converts were coming in in droves. Manarina However, Ahonar had plans for himself. Leaving the High Priest with careful instructions and a line of communication, Ahonar departed the sanctity of the Anama Lands. In a puff of smoke, he arrived at Manarina. This would have been considered extremely odd anywhere else in the Kingdom, but here in the Magic Capital of the World, it was not so. After asking directions, he soon found what he was looking for. Ahonar and several other rough looking characters, all desperate for fame, power and money, walked gracefully into the Hallway of Statues. Flanking them were statues of great men and women in Runic History. The most recently sculpted figure, to Vladimir's dismay, was not the Weapon Winch, but the People's King. The Triad was arranged at the Chamber of No Important Title, and explained to them the mission. "Your job is simple. There is a chapel in the Northern Wastes, the Chapel of Fallen Might. Go there and find where the three items to fix the Vale are. The three items being, of course, the Glass Onion, the Godson's Dagger, and Jeffrey Vogel himself. Once you've done that, return here with them and the mission will be complete. The survivors will return to their corners of the globe wealthy as kings. There is an skyship waiting to take you the Chapel." Bustoke OOC: Get some over enthusiastic youth to try to destroy a catapult. I want to up the stakes. IC: It was noon time once more, and none of the catapults had been dismantled. Still there was a near destruction last night, and Zacharias had ordered that the catapults were to be hidden at night and guarded. Meanwhile, in the day time, the barrage continued. While battering rams and catapults relentlessly beat at the walls, sappers now dug away at the support structure of the walls, not destroying it, but exposing it. The sapping would take several days, but Zacharias decided that the wals were to strong for sheer force alone. -------------------- "I'm happy I'm the mentally disturbed person I am." -Nioca "Yes, Iffy is a demon." -Iffy The Two Universal Truthes: "All I know is that I know nothing" -Socrates "I think, therefore I am." -René Descartes Posts: 1186 | Registered: Friday, June 18 2004 07:00 |
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Guardian
Member # 5360
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written Monday, December 17 2007 15:13
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After making sure that at least meager defenses were in place, Munigant settled down to meditate. He lit the thick white candles in a square around him, and gave blood to Nalyd's altar. "Nalyd, great god, I beseech you, speak to me by sight, show us how to protect the safety of your faithful." Beginning the long, slow, winding chants of meditation, Munigant blacked out. -------------------------------------------------- A man, multiplied. All identical. One, a lurking presence. An anomaly. A beacon of lies and hypocrisy. A beacon of power. This one followed the others, but kept forever away. In the distance, an island. They were there. In the distance, a tower. They were there. Darkness. The beacon turned on them, slaughtering. One landed a blow against him. His flesh dented and shattered like wood, revealing- -------------------------------------------------- Munigant was ripped from meditation. A monk was shaking him from his silence. "The Anama are coming again! Hurry, master!" Munigant jumped to his feet and ran towards the sounds of fighting and magecraft. The screams of the dying. Munigant practically flew down the corridors, and burst through a locked door in the middle of a room. It had once been the room of eating, with many chairs, expensive tapestries, and a grand table. All of this was, by now, ashes. Monks stood on one end of the room, firing spell after deadly spell upon the rushing Anama, while those inclined towards melee rushed with weapons high. The Anama were far more numerous, but were mostly particularly zealous peasants, and were slaughtered in droves of fire and lightning. The few Anama priests were blasting large glowing icicles from their hands and occasionally healing each other. Munigant, still running towards the fight, spewed acidic smoke from his mouth, rotting straight through a half-dozen Anama. As he neared the fights, he leaped clear over the first few soldiers, throwing his shadow-scraps as he went. Landing, he crushed through the face of an Anama with clawed hands, and ran through them, landing a few easy blows as he went. As he got a clear shot at the priests, a red beam shot from his pointed finger and struck one of them on the forehead. This Anama's veins bulged, swelled, stood out in impossible relief against his skin. Then the entire vein structure exploded. An icicle grazed his ribcage and a sword thrust narrowly missed his ear. Munigant whirled and swept the underfed peasant's legs out from under him, then crushed the man's pelvis with his foot. A dizzying sensation struck him, and he felt great pain in his shoulder. An icicle had impaled his arm. Munigant dove and threw an array of shadow scraps with his good arm, clenching the other one close to him. The Anama, with the deaths of two priests, began to retreat. The remaining priests retreated in an expert manner, but half of the peasant soldiers ran and the others slowly backed away, getting slaughtered by spells. Afterwards, Munigant ripped the icicle out of his shoulder and began to tend to the wounded. -------------------- Fear us, mortals, but never envy, for though we burn with power, our fuel is our sorrows. Posts: 1636 | Registered: Wednesday, January 5 2005 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 6785
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written Monday, December 17 2007 16:37
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Halfast wandered through Manarina towards the hall where the adventurers gathered. All through out the city the people talked not about the Anama or the dying Vale, but of the drunken ex-high priest of TM and of his fate. The bookmakers were taking bets. Even odds that Vlad was to be exiled, again. 2 to 1 that they wouldn't use a skyboat when he was to be exiled. 10 to 1 that he was to be imprisioned for life. 50 to 1 that he was to be locked in the deepest level of the Rock to incinerate trash for the rest of his life. The highest odds were that Vlad would be allowed to join the expedition to save the Vale. Halfast would have bet, but he wasn't going to be here long enough to collect. He strode in to the hall as the triad made their announcement, Posts: 4643 | Registered: Friday, February 10 2006 08:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 7298
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written Monday, December 17 2007 18:53
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The shade had just heard the Triads announcement and found it very intriguing. " I'll take a sky ship as close to this 'temple' as possible. If any of the others can keep up I'll tolerate their presence" Shade thought to himself. Some of the company worried him, he didn't like the idea of a dragging a drunken bum across the northern waste. Shade aka Justin decided to see what the other adventures arrangements were while he waited for his skyship to come in. OCC If by chance anyone wants to do some coordinate with my character or interact with it in anyway now is your chance -------------------- A rock has weight whether you admit it or not Posts: 479 | Registered: Wednesday, July 12 2006 07:00 |
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Warrior
Member # 12481
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 02:10
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"I'm annoyed because you've made what should have been a nice, easy job for me difficult and complicated. I've half a mind to hand you over to the anama and go back to my nice, quiet post. Can you give me a good reason not to do this?" Fi asks It, her emerald gaze boring into its eyes. -------------------- Third generation geek and heathen! Posts: 93 | Registered: Tuesday, December 11 2007 08:00 |
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Shaper
Member # 7420
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 12:21
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Trinculo kicked Vlad awake just as the Most High Priest’s speech was ending. “No, mistress! I swear I’ll be a good boy! Urg… where am I?” “Master, did you sleep through the whole briefing?” “Of course not. I caught the jist of it. Something about an Onion Dagger in the Chapel of Mighty Wastes… very deep stuff I’m sure. This quest will be a piece of cake for us, no doubt.” “No doubt, master.” Vlad once again approached the Most High Priest, who was hoping to leave before anyone got a chance speak with him, especially Vlad. “Hey Dana, I’m gonna need an advance on that reward your offering.” Indeed, Vlad was still wearing the same tattered, stained, singed robes he was when he was first kicked out of his temple. He’s stench permeated the room and he couldn’t remember the last time he ate real food. “Spectacles of the Creator behold, what a charity case you are! I do suppose I can’t have you out there representing the League looking like that. Fine, take this.” The Most High Priest pulled a small pouch of coins from under his lush robes and handed it to Vlad. “That’s from me personally, be sure to spend some on a bath as well.” Vlad looked down at the coins, infuriated. “I don’t need your pity you wayward **** dainty threaded *** ***** fop! Take your coins and stick them in your fat **** you gut ***** hedge-pig!” Vlad threw the coins with a good amount of force at the Most High Priest. He missed completely and the coins hit the wall instead, sending them jingling all over the chambers. The Most High Priest chuckled to himself and left. Once he was gone, Vlad looked around at the remaining adventurers. “What are you all staring at? Oh, oh, go ahead, point your fingers! You all need me! You need me so that you can tell yourselves, hey, at least I’m not that guy! Without me your just more pointless, nameless characters in this story of ours, hoping to score a bit of cash by feeding off the tragic situation of our little world! Go! Go to your high adventures, let me wallow in own self pity in peace!” Some deeply felt Vlad’s words, most just shook their heads and left the room. When the X-High Priest was finally alone in the chambers with no one but Trinculo watching, he quickly got down on his knees and began picking up the coins he threw. - When Trinculo had finished using the latrine, he emerged to discover his master was nowhere to be found. He soon found Vlad in the very first place he looked, a nearby pub, this one was called Duck Feet. Vlad was passed out at the bar, to no one’s surprise. Trinculo kicked him awake for the second time that day. “Master, how did you get here?” “Uh? What? You again? Oh, I got some new robes and I had a bit of cash left over so I figured I get some sustenance before we left for the quest or whatever.” “First of all, alcohol is not sustenance, master.” “This isn’t alcohol, it’s knowledge brew!” “No it isn’t. Second of all, what kind of robes are these? Generic yellow? The Most High Priest gave you a small fortune, master, you could have bought some really nice robes with those coins. How much do you have left over?” “Nothing.” “Master! You spent all the rest of the coins on booze?” “Of course not, I got supplies for our adventure, check it out.” Vlad revealed a small pack filled with items. Trinculo began going through them. “Let’s see. One half-eaten loaf of bread.” “They come like that for some reason, honest.” “One bundle of metal spikes.” “Those were on sale.” “One pornographic magazine, slightly used.” “Ah, Nuns of Nioca Gone Wild, my favorite publication.” “Ew. And one water canteen etched with the number thirteen. Well, at least that’s somewhat useful.” “Yeah, that’s not for water.” “I don’t believe this. I left you alone for five minutes, master. How did you even manage to- never mind. Lets just find the rest of that adventuring group and let them lead the way. Hopefully, we can mooch off someone with even the slightest aura of success or ability.” The duo left the pub and scanned the busy streets. Vlad’s eyes eventually fell upon a particularly rugged individual browsing through swords being sold by a local blacksmith. “He’ll do, no doubt.” “No doubt, master.” -------------------- You lose. Posts: 2156 | Registered: Thursday, August 24 2006 07:00 |
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Canned
Member # 8014
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 14:20
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It glared at Fi, "So you really are an Anama. A dirty little jerk face. Anama are horrible people. And apparently you are one of them" It shook his head. "If only I could get out of here" It suddenly threw down a smoke bomb, distracting Fi long enough to get a good start on jumping up the walls. But before he was clear, a dagger comming from the smoke hit him in the skull. "Ouch! ****!" It yelled in surprised. But fortunatly he managed to escape. It saw the clock, and apparently it was 12:58. He went quickly to the docks, and on the ship. "Good. You came. I'm glad you weren't killed by dumb Fi person," said a man It had never seen before. "And you are wounded, please let me heal you." As the man was healing Its skull, he said, "Interesting. Your saliva glands are in your skull. And your brain seems to be somewhere in your chest. Oh, let me introduce myself. My name is John." "My name is It. I know it isn't much, but it is my name" "Understood" "So," It said. "Why have you sent me here?" John replied, "Because. I saw you fight that Anama. There was a look in your eyes. A look that made me certain that you could help." "I'd be glad to help, as long as it was a good thing to do," replied It. "Well, we...GET DOWN!" John was interupted as a few ice spells flew above them. "FOR THE ANAMA!" yelled one of the priests. "**** it!" cursed John. "How could they have found us..." John was hit by a spell. It wanted to get out of there, and get John help as John was seriously wounded by the spell. He just wanted to hurt the Anama, and to get John to saftey. Suddenly a word formed in his mind. Fire. Fire shot out of his hands, insinerating several of the Anama. They were so startled, It had time to get out of there. He fled, carrying John with him. Running, to get away. -------------------- I can transform into almost anything, but not sanity -Iffy Muffins n' Hell|Muffins n' Hell: The Muffins Are Back Again I like this image Not in your shed -We are still under developement, but help would be nice. By the way, most of the conversation goes in the Moderator forum, in case your confused. Everyone, just call me Iffy. Please. Posts: 1799 | Registered: Sunday, February 4 2007 08:00 |
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Agent
Member # 8030
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 16:18
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Chapter 5 -1 Ivanhoe's concentration produced a synergy of numbing thoughts. Available outlets of opposition had been fused together by Anama forces. If all catapults remained intact, his oppressor would overcome Bustoke within fourteen days. The outer sandstone wall was shattered and troops were burrowing beneath his ramparts. Ivanhoe still possessed one aspect of security. If the Anama managed to bring down the wall, it would inflict heavy losses. Nonetheless, his citizens were oblivious as to swordplay. Meanwhile, Ivanhoe wished to assuage his thoughts with an unread novel. Ivanhoe lifted his weary frame from the desk. Several torches appeared to cower as he rose. Stumbling like an drunkard, Ivanhoe walker over to his bookshelf. Ivanhoe fingered the numerous spines carelessly. Ivanhoe released a sigh. He found an unread book titled Of the History of Sancho Panza. He parted the novels beside it and removed the text from its place. As he did and waxy sheet of papyrus drifted aimlessly to the floor. Ivanhoe shook his head like a wet dog. His eyes had not misled him, he had found a blessing by coincidence. --2 Ivanhoe ran like an ebullient child. He tore past stairwells, flame, and din and emerged upon the ramparts. He sprinted like a creature of the earth, then finding shelter in a battlement. He crouched behind a stone structure in order to protect from enemy fire. Lifting the sheet in his hand like an ankh, he read it triumphantly. " Esto nobis praegustatum In mortis examine. " A voluminous mass of fire formed in the sky, then descending upon the catapults. Four catapults burst into flames, spreading unto another. The wooden giants smoldered rapidly, as well as eight Anama troops. Ivanhoe crouched down, and crawled cautiously away to avoid detection. He had succeeded in destroying five catapults with a practice forbidden by the Anama. ---3 After addressing his flock, Ivanhoe retreated to his quarters. He had no other scrolls, he would improvise with the remaining siege weapons. With half the siege weapons gone, the walls were assured several extra days of life. -------------------- A Bile Crux Posts: 1384 | Registered: Tuesday, February 6 2007 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 6785
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 16:42
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Halfast browsed through a display of swords at a blacksmith's shop. With magic becoming somewhat unreliable now that the Vale was dying, it was time to consider having to fight like the rest. Manual killing was so tedious. Worse there was a good chance of getting hit when you actually had to face an opponent. Magic was so much more efficient and satisfying. The group that had stood in the hall when the instructions were given were the usual lot of money grubbing adventurers. Most wouldn't even last the week. The second rule of adventuring was to make sure you had partners that could protect you in a fight. Except for that ex-high priest that had killed a skyboat's crew, most of them didn't look like they could fight their way out of a parchment sack. He should of asked if the reward was a fixed amount per person or to be split among the survivors. Halfast was going to make sure he was among the survivors. Posts: 4643 | Registered: Friday, February 10 2006 08:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 7298
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 18:08
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Shade was organizing and securing his provisions in his quarters on the skyship. He had a connection or two at that temple and a supply cache nearby but he always thought it good to come prepared. On the way to the skyship he saw Vlad, his servant, and someone else he recognized from the assembly. He wondered what they could be doing together but he find out soon enough. This particular skyship was one of the more advance versions and the fastest in the fleet if he was any judge. It could comfortable room all of the adventures he saw at the assembly. -------------------- A rock has weight whether you admit it or not Posts: 479 | Registered: Wednesday, July 12 2006 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 4574
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 18:45
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In Manarina, it was raining. And raining. And raining. Such rain had never been seen before, and water flowed off the mighty floating rock in a huge waterfall. The Academy below was threatening to crumble with all the water that was hitting it's rooves. In fact, it would have crumbled in a flood to rival Noah's, had it not been for the dedicated work of the mages above. In Manarina Proper, bells were ringing*. People gasped, "Hear the tolling of the bells- Iron bells!" The clanging and a banging compeled a world of solemn thought via their monody. For in the silence of the night, everyone shivered with fright at the dismal melancholy of their tones. The sounds that eminated from their rusty throats meant one thing. The people in the streets dwelled upon the High Tower, all alone, suffering from the muffled monotone. And as the ghouls were arolling to the tolling of the bells, even they knew what it meant: The city was under attack. Below them, the Academy was oblivious to the attack unto the last moment, when the hordes of Anama rebels appeared on the horizon. Screams filled the night. The adventurer's were all found, forcibly knocked unconscious, and dragged to the skyship. Any and all companions were voluntary in coming. As the adventurers awoke individually in their quarters, they would walk out to see Manarina fading in the distance, surrounded by raw energy the equivalent of Hiroshima. A firestorm completely surrounded the rock, and occasional rays of pure energy would burst forth. Alternatively, the Academy lay in icy ruins below, frozen solid and smashed to bits. Explosions keyed off at random, and the scene was altogether amazing. In the cold winter sky of nighttime Rune, the questers found they had time to chat, uneasily. Vlad would find, to his delight, a large store of ale in the cargo hold. Bustoke Undeterred, Zacharias continued the seige determined. Slaves from the other cities had been brought in now to help with the battering rams and sapping. Stronger quality boulders had been brought in, with much stronger acid. The battering rams were given steel heads. Impatient, Zacharias had surplus slaves brought in to man the battering rams day and night, with shifts. Still not satisfied, he did the same with the sappers. By the next nightfall, Zacharias would fill the hole with oil and light it, burning away the exposed supports of the castle wall. *Courtesy of Edgar Allan Poe's The Bells, last stanza -------------------- "I'm happy I'm the mentally disturbed person I am." -Nioca "Yes, Iffy is a demon." -Iffy The Two Universal Truthes: "All I know is that I know nothing" -Socrates "I think, therefore I am." -René Descartes Posts: 1186 | Registered: Friday, June 18 2004 07:00 |
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Guardian
Member # 5360
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written Tuesday, December 18 2007 19:47
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The bizarre variation of urban warfare was complete. The Anama forces were significantly less than was expected. Apparently, they had only the one wandering group, while the monks had split up into various bases after the initial attack. It was still unknown how they had managed to smuggle in so many soldiers, but several searches were underway. Overall, not too much damage had come from the attack. Less than a dozen monks had been killed, with three permanently crippled. Mainly, there was damage to the monastery itself. Several rooms had been badly burned or otherwise damaged, but repairs were already underway. Munigant had by now healed his wounds along with the other monks. It was time to contact Manarina. Munigant stood in the pentacle that was permanently carved into the stone floor, and began the rites of summoning the dead. A simple shade, to be imprisoned in a black orb to keep it stable in the mortal realm, sent to report the Anama attack to Manarina, and the divisions of Nalyd's church there. A call for the faithful to gather at the Chapel of the Fallen Might in the ages of sorrow to come. Munigant had seen in his visions that the time was now. A slight dimming, and then a glaring, burning power. The attack on the Chapel, and the massive influx of new worshipers. Yes, that was what the symbols represented. He summoned the shade, and instructed it concisely and expertly. The orb sucked it in, and off it flew. -------------------------------------------------- In Manarina, a small portion of the Anama army did not attack the city. Instead, they marched northward, into the Wastes, to the Chapel of the Fallen Might. They followed a skyship. -------------------- Fear us, mortals, but never envy, for though we burn with power, our fuel is our sorrows. Posts: 1636 | Registered: Wednesday, January 5 2005 08:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 7252
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written Wednesday, December 19 2007 02:35
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"Pfaugh" Dazzle said in distaste. "Humans, ever humble." Said the lich in a sarcastic tone while going back to its throne. "But I am amazed Jeran. Amazed." The lich dwelled on the thought. It has been long since Dazzle was amazed or this was even the first. Dazzle waved its hand in the air and a scrying pool appeared in midair, showing Jeran travelling through the Maze, guided by the shade. "I am curious on what will be your doing Jeran. I shall be watching intently. You might even get this old lazybones up and moving." Dazzle said, laughing a hollow laugh, but immediately stopped. "Ahem. Ugh. I'm feeling strange. Do I need to feed? Or is this something associated with that Blind Sage?" The lich pondered. "Nothing to do but wait..wait and see." -------------------- Humans fight to enter insanity. You ain't evil until you hear this! Posts: 732 | Registered: Saturday, June 24 2006 07:00 |
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Lifecrafter
Member # 7557
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written Wednesday, December 19 2007 07:50
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Jeran perched easily on the cliff wall, staring out at the siege of Bunstoke. He was about halfway up the cliff, a good way above the walls of Bunstoke and in the perfect position to observe what was going on below. His attention had been drawn by the catapults and other assorted siege devices that had been brought up to pound the walls. Turning away from the scene below he retreated to the crevice in which he had set up camp. A few meters deep and about his height it was the perfect hiding place, one that Jeran had used to the full in the past few hours. Jeran could be called many things. rash was not one of them, impulsive maybe, but not rash. Alone he knew there was little he could do against the enemy. He could probably hack his way through a small cohort of peons before being overwhelmed and a few fireballs would probably wipe out an entire legion if they stood still long enough, yet in the end he would go down in a glorious, but futile last stand. He picked up Ravvijac, reverentially checking the great weapon’s bindings and perfectly oiled blade for the thousandth time that day. As a Weapon-Master Jeran’s bond with the magical blade was more then craftsman and tool. It was to him what a matchbox was to a rabid pyromaniac; the fruit of existence. He was camouflaged against the cliffs of the maze. His armour reflected or absorbed light, being coloured in shiniest obsidian, yet a determined eye or—god forbid, a magical probe—could probably still detect him. Emerging out from his lair in the rock face he surveyed the general surroundings. He knew that the best way to damage his enemy was destroy their equipment. And the loose boulders around the cliffs were perfect for the task. He relaxed, turning his mind within himself, seeking out the tell-tale blue aura that always surrounded latent magic. He found it, glowing faintly in his virtual-vision. Within the confines of his mind, time passed slowly, the process that was taking maybe a minute inside his own head would be complete in less then a second in real-time. Having hooked the magic on the line of his thoughts he sent it along the passages of his body, through his arms. Now that he had established a link he opened his eyes again. Running “hot” like this was the equivalent of a warm bath, every muscle felt relaxed as the energy ran over them, his brain, not knowing exactly how to react to such an odd sensation went with the flow and produced a sensation of relaxation and courage. Now Jeran had a grip on the power, he sent it down his fingers which lit up in a powerful blue aura, his target was a large roundish boulder a few meters away. Overriding the natural human instincts of impossibility at the task he sent the magic outwards, catching the object in a mesh of blue sparks. Without pausing Jeran plucked it from the ground, imbued it with a truly lethal amount of energy then hurled it towards the camp. A whale landed on his chest, the sun was turned off at the mains and the stars came out. He woke up. He must have been unconscious for only a few seconds, h cursed himself. He had obviously put to much energy into the spell; using innate magic was the same as any other exercise. You could not lift something with magic any easier then lifting it with muscle. Except with magic you could put a lot more flexibility into that virtual muscle, allowing you to lift something you could never lift with physical prowess alone. Naturally, that ran the risk of your brain ending up in your boots exploring the pores of your toes. He climbed shakily to his feet, feeling like he had just been hit by a very large lead hammer he shambled to the edge of the precipice and looked down. The camp was in uproar, the missile had struck the main catapult with enough force to send spars through tents to impale men inside. Knowing it would be minutes before they realised what truly had happened Jeran lumbered blearily back into the cave, grabbing his belongings and slinging them over his shoulder began to climb the cliff. He thanked his unnatural agility for not being to badly effected by the errant discharge. -------------------- The one and only. Posts: 942 | Registered: Sunday, October 8 2006 07:00 |
