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BattleMaster => Roleplaying => Topic started by: Renodin on November 14, 2017, 09:30:28 AM
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Yeah, its that time again. I created a new character. We'll see how long this one lives. Last time I created a less than good character he died in a duel to the death. Here's to hoping this one will be less foolish. Anyhow, let me give you a quick taste of the kind of individual we're dealing with here. I used this RP to introduce the character of Astros to the Realm. Hope you enjoy!
A Cheerful Tune
A meandering road led them to the outskirts of the main towns of Avengmil. Green lush trees swayed gently in the wind and trains of clipped geese waddled past. Constantly being harassed by a boy menacingly wielding a stick and his dog. Those geese the boy couldn't reach the dog would promptly jap at. Astros grinned as he saw the boy. The scene reminded him of himself and the early days. A self appreciating sigh escaped his red lips. Lips entirely hemmed in by a gruff stubble reaching well down his neck. Apart from his heavy eyebrows it was the only hair on his entirely head. The warm sun above made his scalp gleam and he liked to think that it occasionally blinded one of his men marching behind him.
The boy stopped dead in his tracks. His mouth fell open as he gawked at the troupe of warriors approaching. One and all big men. Decked not just in brigantine and leathers but most prominently in flesh hardened over years of training and innate physical prominence. Astros leading the pack and it clearly was a sign of power, especially over those that followed. The towering man's face was angular, sat atop a broad neck and his eyes shone with intelligence but were veiled with a far more sinister quality only truly masked by confidence and a smug little grin that played upon his features. Feeling particularly good Astros struck up a tune as he began to whistle. A cheerful, marching melody. It fooled the boy but not the geese. They hissed and beat their wings as they tried to hustle their group onward.
''Whoooaa! Real Knights!'' The boy exclaimed. Arriving at where the boy stopped Astros made an elaborate show of looking down on the boy and offering the broadest of grins. ''In the Flesh!'' and he winked. Astros' eye fell on the boy's satchel. Within he spied it contained a piece of cheese. Not really caring who saw or how the boy would feel he reached down with one heavy and armor arm. His fingers going straight for the cheese and while the boy deigned away, one ugly look rooted the boy in place. Having seized his price Astros bite off a large chunk. ''Scram you little !@#$stain.'' The boy couldn't comprehend for precious moments. Getting annoyed, Astros kicked the boy aside before continuing to march on. Laughing as the boy landed in a muddle of mud. ''Learn from this lesson boy! Better pay your taxes or else!'' The men laughed with their master and the boy knew resentment as his father had. Nobility, they're all the same.
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A little Rp to set the tone and add flavour.
A Good Excuse
Eyeing the "Inquisition" guildhouse Astros carefully read the description and grinned to himself. Walking inside he did so with casual bombastic demeanor. Professing his keen interest in ridding the world of daimons and their ilk. Especially their ilk, the human ilk that only he would so carefully root out. Nodding to the official who took his membership papers and ever grinning from ear to ear like a hungry wolf.
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This Rp is the beginning of Astros's first ever meeting with his Liege Lord and also the Grand Inquisitor (judge) of the Realm he is in (Obia'Syela). First the opening RP from the Player of Goriad II Gabanus and following my own reply. Enjoy!
Roleplay from Goriad II Gabanus
It was early in the morning when Goriad II made his way to the market square in Rines. He was dressed in the dark brown fur coat he had received from Jarra and was accompanied by Sigmund. "Are you sure he will come milord?" Sigmund asked and he was answered by a short yet sollmn nod "I told Astros to meet me here, where they sell hunting equipment in the marketplace, he'll come." So the two of them made their way to the area of the city they both have come to know so well. As he walked he was recognized by some and before long a small crowd had gatthered. He stopped and took the opportunity to preach of Obeah, the same words he had used in Cjelegy for new uninformed minds and Sigmund snickered "You're slowly perfecting this one milord," and Goriad II smiled back "Yes, who knows."
As they arrived at the stands who sell trapping snares both of them stopped for a moment, it was slowly getting crowded already. "Do we even know what he looks like?" Sigmund ultimately asked, "No, we do not, but how many nobles do you think will arrive here accompanied by armed men?"
A Fancy Fur Coat
Lounging about was great but even that had its limits. The sun had started to rise in earnest and the morning was officially beginning. Astros pushed himself off and away from the table he had been sat at. Upon it were the mostly empty remains of a rather lavish meal. Plates with pork ribs stacked haphazardly. Two nearly empty tankards of what smells like mead, a platter containing crumbs and leftover cheeses and a bowl stained with humus around the rim and bottom. He stretched his huge frame and it made his clothing taunt against his muscles. Clawing at his stubble he took two deliberate gulps of air. All the while looking around to account for all his men. The entire floor of the inn was practically filled with his boys. Each selected for their physical size and ability to wield big weapons. ''Calvin!'' Astros called out to his captain. Motioning to the innkeeper, a portly man sporting a black eye. ''Take care of the bill, will you?'' The words sounded sincere but the accompanying grin twisted them beyond their meaning.
Moments later Astros was donning himself in his brigantine armor and slung his great-sword over his back. A black handled blade longer than many a man was tall. Stepping out of the Inn and being engulfed in the day's first light Astros squinted his eyes and actually had to bend forwards as he exited through the front door. Filling out behind him were his men. They congealed around Astros like a pack of wild dogs. Very big, mean looking dogs. A triple layered, bordeaux and black belt circled his waist. From it a hefty, jingling pouch dangled alongside a rondel dagger and a small leather packed which was sealed with two straps. From the packet a strong, earthy scent permeated.
Walking down the street toward the market the waking people shied away from the company of warriors. Astros took in the sights and gave overly friendly smiles and grins to anyone that caught his eye. He was feeling particularly good today. A fine meal will do that for you. Especially one donated so generously. Licking his front teeth with an open mouth he nonchalantly grabbed an apple from a grocers stand. A single exchange of looks enough to shut the merchant up. He laughed malevolently as he recognized the man's resignation.
Coming up on the main market square in Rines Astros felt inside his pouch. His fingers confirming the Grand Inquisitor's letter was still there. ''Now what would I be wearing if I was the Grand Inquisitor..?'' He mumbled to himself. Eyes scanning the stalls and people before him. Not catching anything of interest. ''Probably some kind of fancy hat, probably..'' His hand informed him of something soft and he turned his big head to look at it. It so happened that his hand had come to rest upon a raccoon fur hat that was on display at a fur trader's stall. Astros's face lit up with childish enthusiasm. ''Always did want a furry hat of my own!'' He grinned at the man he assumed was the trader. ''Thank you for your donation to the faith!'' He promptly put the hat on his bald head and moved along. Feeling supremely confident. Only a few stalls further he took the hat off again. The jolt of excitement he felt at humiliating the trader had passed and with it his interest in the hat.
It was then that his eye caught a really fancy coat. Rich brown and hell'a furry. His large brown eyes grew bigger still. The skin on his forehead rippled like sand-dunes and his lips produced a sharp whistle. ''Oh damn! Ain't that a fine, fine coat!'' Loud enough for the wearer to actually hear him. Lazily Astros made his way to the man in the rich fur coat and his companion. Yet his steps were filled with purpose even as his arms and frame made a show of dodging out of the way of passers by and pushing goods aside that would otherwise obstruct his way. Following close behind him like an enveloping wave of water were his hulking warriors. They quickly came to flood the two men that Astros had marked out. Unbeknownst to them that they had actually stumbled upon the Grand Inquisitor himself.
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Written by the Player of Goriad II Gabanus, all credits go to him of course.
Roleplay from Goriad II Gabanus
The Red Moon
He had already seen the gang of brutes coming, long before one of them whistled and quite loudly said "Oh damn! Ain't that a fine, fine coat!" and Goriad II shortly shook his head towards Sigmund who had wished to take action, instead they moved on slowly, untill they were surrounded by the soldiers. Their leader walked towards Goriad II, with a huge broadsword on his back. He could not help himself but wonder how usefull such a sword would be, in such close corners. Their leader tried to reach for the coat, not knowing that Jarra had hidden pockets sown into it allover, as she knew Goriad II's tendencies by now. Before the man could good and well speak, he was stopped.
"Now now, this coat was a gift to me, as was this blade," he said and now all eyes suddenly turned to his right hand in which he held one of his three short curved blades, positioned right against the upper thigh of the big man "Do you know why they call this the Red Moon my boy?" a grin appeared on his face, "I received this from leading the Red Moon army all the way from the desert into the coastal lands of Minas Leon, a most succesful raid..." he paused for a moment "But," placing a strong emphasis on the word but, "some say it is so named because when it cuts, men cry to the moon like a wolf bitch giving birth, the only difference is that you would never have children again."
Then, as all the men were on edge, the soldiers waiting for the order to attack, the blade was lowered and put back in his coat. "Now, I know the outfits of all militia in this city and there are no foreign troops allowed either, so I assume you must be Astros. Now I have a court to hold a mile further into the city, do have your men join us." Then he turned around again to Sigmund "Sigmund, I want 20 trapping snares and 4 bear traps, do let these fine big gentlemen carry them for you."
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Aaaand! my reply. Hope you like it. I'm curious what kind of a scene will be set but I'm sure it's going to be a good one.
To Each Their Burden
Then, as all the men were on edge, the soldiers waiting for the order to attack, the blade was lowered and put back in his coat. "Now, I know the outfits of all militia in this city and there are no foreign troops allowed either, so I assume you must be Astros. Now I have a court to hold a mile further into the city, do have your men join us." Then he turned around again to Sigmund "Sigmund, I want 20 trapping snares and 4 bear traps, do let these fine big gentlemen carry them for you."
~Goriad II Gabanus
The blade felt really uncomfortable upon his armor. Placed just right, between the plates that were worked into the brigantine. A move that was way too expertly executed for Astros to be comfortable with. His face a blend of a raging ocean with its stormy whitecaps and a venomous snake threatening to strike but really just wishing to retreat. His eyes following the motions of the man that was his Liege, the Grand Inquisitor. Before Astros could say anything Sigmund was already directing his men to follow. Realization dawned, it included himself. Grinding his teeth Astros complied. His shoulders tense and the look in his eyes dangerous.
The Grand Inquisitor's companion, Sigmund, was efficient in his dealings and didn't fuss over the fact that over three dozen warriors of large physical appearance gave him murderous looks. He didn't even seem rattled in the slightest. The same couldn't be said for the merchants he dealt with before instructing said merchants to hand over the snares and bear traps to the large warriors about. A casual finger indicating at random it seemed as eyes never even made contact. Astros made fists of his hands and felt anger swell in his bosom. When the whimsical finger was pointed at him however, he meekly accepted the load of a full fletched bear trap as his own to carry. To carry towards whichever destination was set, for that remained a mystery.
So Astros and his men were set to function as packmules for the Grand Inquisitor, very angry packmules. Muttering curses under their breath whenever the eyes of the Grand Inquisitor weren't looking. ''Grand Arse..'' Prominent among them.
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An little RP ((Discretion advised! Foul language and behavior)) I wrote outlining some less than honorable behavior of Astros during a friendly take-over of a rural region.
You're Free, Celebrate it damn it!
Marching up and down the length of the main thoroughfare of the village Astros's muscular frame could be seen swaying from the left to the right. Handing out firm pats on the backs and shoulders of haphazard peasants who were more inclined to dart away rather than face the lumbering giant of a man with the wolf's grin. ''What's wrong?! Why so glum! You're free now!'' Lips curled back into a sadistic smirk. ''No more bandits troubling you, we'll take care of them from now on. No more arguments with the neighbors about who's chicken that is or who's pig got !@#$ed. We'll take care of all that. They're our chickens now and our pigs as well! Isn't that great?!'' A whack of his mighty hand all but uprooted the scrawny peasant as he gave the man another pat on the back. ''All your worries gone like that!'' And Astros snapped his fingers. ''Along with your coin, we're not doing this for free of course!''
Walking past the peasant Astros laughed and grabbed a carrot from a grocer's stand. Bit off a chunk as he meandered along and spat it out again. ''You people don't wash your vegetables?!'' He threw the remains of the carrot back at the peddler along with an angry glare. All without ever slowing his already slow pace.
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Hey there, welcome. Today a not so friendly roleplay. Its accurately titled so if you don't like the title or what it may represent. Don't read it. Despite the harsh and nasty scene described, I hope it adds a certain aspect of life we should not forget nor suppress. It happens so we must deal with it. It is fleshing out the character and giving the other players a sense of what kind of person Astros is.
Outburst
Snuffling and snorting Astros made his way through the baggage train's food wagon. A thin shouldered quartermaster fearfully eyeing the grasping hands of the towering man. Greedily taking a jar of honey, a string of sausages and then the the beastly eyes returned to meet his own. ''Where's the bread?'' The smaller man gulped. ''Where damn it!'' White teeth flashed as Astros wagged the string of sausages at the lesser man. The quartermaster found his voice. ''Behind the casket of vinegar.'' he chirped meekly like a songbird poked. A grunt was the reply he received but more importantly the attention of the abrasive Astros had departed him. To be fixed once more on the food and indeed a large hand pushed aside the casket of vinegar and took possession of a loaf of spiced and seed covered bread.
As Astros turned away from the wagon the quartermaster darted in to check the damage but as he tried, it irked Astros. A fist clutching the honey jar swept in and slammed the lesser official in the temple. Reeling to the right the quartermaster instinctively reached for his face with his hands, trying to prevent further damage. ''Gnat! Who gave you the impression I was done?!'' More blows rained. The jar wielded like a weapon. Bashing several times more onto the quartermaster's face. Shattering his nose which caused blood to splatter the front of the wagon and then a blow to his ear made all sound fade but a high pitch screech. Endurance fleeing his body the quartermaster fell to the dirt. A hand bracing against a clod of dirt sporting a tiny tuft of grass. Slowly crushed under the weight of both men. One holding on and the other viciously dishing out a beating. Sausages dangled haphazardly from Astros's thick neck.
Finding the little man out of arm's reach, boots took over where hands couldn't reach. Kicking the huddled shape against the wheels of the wagon. ''Never! Presume I am done before I say so!'' Another kick to the ribs. ''Got it?!'' The words spoken much akin to a dragon breathing fire onto a peaceful village. Through blood caked, broken lips. ''Yeeesss..'' A hoarse sound followed. ''Yes, sir..! Never again!'' the quartermaster managed. Half of his face covered in dirt as he just lay there miserably.
Astros stepped back and rubbed his large hand over the side of his face. Noticing some beats of sweat that he quickly wiped away. ''Good. Now clean yourself up you worthless goat arse.'' Flicking the sweat onto the quartermaster as he turned about and walked off.
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Welcome back, been expecting you. Yes I have. What you'll read next is about Astros of course but you're in for a real treat. One of his very first acts as an agent of the Faith. Serving the Faith and being good for the faith, yes sir. Anyhow, enjoy the read.
All for the Faith
Making his rounds ensuring that his men were indeed ''convincing'' the locals of the true, free and indeed pious ways of Obia Astros nonchalantly came to a halt at a merchant's stall. A big wooden wagon that was transformed into a veritable miniature shop. Roofed over and supported with extendable beams it really looked quite cozy if not indeed grand. Bending forwards to just dip under the curtain of goods suspended from the ceiling Astros nodded approvingly. ''Looks mighty, mighty fine!'' A broad and piggish grim emerged upon his face as he uttered the words. His eye fell on a dyed, woolen scarf and instantly his eyebrows arched high. Making a fist out of his gloved hand Astros added dramatic effect by mock biting down on the top of it. ''Phhhhheeeww! That's a mighty, mighty fine scarf!'' Without preamble he casually picked it up and smelled it, inhaling deeply. ''I can even smell the sheep!'' Taking a brief moment to really rub and finger the fabric Astros ended up wrapping the scarf around his bullish neck. Allowing the two ends to drape and dangle on either side of his face.
The merchant smelled a deal and quickly dove into a flurry of compliments and cited the benefits of wool and the origins of the scarf. The casual grin quickly started to fade from the hulking Noble's face. Astros's eyes cast down and beheld the ground as he bit his lower lip pensively. He breathed in once, deeply, and slowly let it out again. ''We seem, to have a misunderstanding.'' Each word deliberately uttered and with each one, the volume rose. Ending with a very expressive ''Mis-Understan-Ding!''. His eyes no longer on the ground but bored into the Merchant's. He lazily licked his front teeth.
''What!'' A vile smirk passed over Astros's features. ''Is the third Law of the Veiled Goddess?!'' The merchant was equal parts startled and dismayed. He stammered as he tried to regain his mental footing. ''Come now!'' Astros barked. ''It's easy! What is the Third Law of the Veiled Goddess?! Speak!'' The display made grander and more public as Astros spread his big arms wide as if to invite all other bystanders to witness. The merchant began to form words in his mouth in a rush yet failed to make a legible answer. A pleading look crept into his eyes. ''What did you just say!?'' Astros leaned closer for theatrical effect. ''Was that your -final- answer?!'' The vile smirk returned. Astros turned away from the merchant and addressed the small crowd that had gathered. Shrugging apologetically ''The man doesn't know the Third Law of the Veiled Goddess!'' Both hands rose into the air. ''How is that possible? How?!'' Taking on the posture of a sage, deep in thought, Astros rubbed his chin while looking back at the merchant. Taking a que from the lull in words, the merchant pleaded. ''I'm sorry, I truly am. I'll study her words from this day on. Every night and every morning. Really I'll know her Laws by heart!'' Eyes darting from Astros to the crowd and back again.
Shaking his big, bald head, several lines formed on Astros's forehead. ''That! is not enough!'' A huge malevolent grin split his face in two. The heavy stubble on his chin contrasting with the shiny skin that covered his skull. ''How could it?! You didn't know the Third Law of the Veiled Goddess.'' The words ringing with a certain finality. ''There can be but one! Punishment, that can apply!'' He motioned his men over and directed them to grab the merchant. ''A straight ticket to the Goddess herself!'' Bending his knees as he said the words and pointing at the sky. As if he announced the date for a big celebration. His grin mean like a predator knowing he's going to make a kill. Seeing some of the people standing around covering their mouths in shock Astros faked being surprised at their reaction. ''Don't you worry good people! I know. I know it's not enough. I'll make it all well again, don't you worry.'' The toothy grin returned. ''-All- of these here goods, will be donated, to the faith.'' Smug and contend with his own words Astros placed a caring hand upon the stall's counter.
With the theatrics over Astros fiddled with the scarf a bit as he devoured an apple while watching his men string the poor merchant up from a nearly tree. The goods and the stall? They were conveniently taken to Astros's camp, never to be seen again.
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A little Rp to illustrate Astros' reaction that I wouldn't otherwise be able to portray in a letter.
Having a Laugh
Deep inside one of the time worn taverns that Rines' old quarter was rich in Astros and his men were enjoying some time off. The new recruits were undergoing mean and sadistic initiation rites while their Liege, Astros was devouring a stack of greasy pork ribs. In between tossing bones left and right after picking them clean he guffawed and snorted as his eyes read the words of fellow Nobles. ''Hear this one boys!'' He called out to his men. ''I do not offer my apologies, nor are you deserving of them. ~Vahanian Blint'' Astros's normally loud and rough voice mimicked that of a prim lady as best he could with his low timbre. A thunder of laughter ensued which made the bulky man grin with glee.
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A little RP written after a fight against Undead. Most units got pretty much wiped.
After the Battle
Brushing off after the battle in Cjelegy, Astros found that he was surrounded not only by dusty bones where the skin was taut like leather, stacked in heaps, but that under said heaps of long dead corpses, a flow of crimson cut the soil like a small river. Turning his bull neck and looking behind him Astros saw but two of his men still standing. Panting heavily and covered in gore and grim they were the only two remaining. The rest lay either dead or well on their way towards death. Squeezing the two handed grip of his massive greatsword Astros felt anger. His jaw clenched and his eyes screamed murder. In frustration he kicked over a nearby stack of now, permanently dead, bone.
''You dead F*ck! You damn dead teeth clatterers! Why couldn't you just stay dead the -First- Time!'' In a fit of rage and spare energy, wherever he had summoned it from a mystery, Astros vented and unleashed his anger on the dead.
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Some responses to Astros's behavior on the battlefield. All due credit go to the players that wrote it. They all have my thanks for enriching the story. Enjoy.
Roleplay from Yxevarii Auru'in
As Herald-Inquisitor Yxevarii observed the battlefield of Cjelegy, distant Astros could be seen covered in the excretions of both living and dead, panting like a tired old dog. Only two of his men remained standing where countless others had fallen. A somewhat ridiculous greatsword rose slowly as Astros futilely kicked at the corpses that so recently reduced his men to bloodied heaps of sundered flesh.
''You dead F*ck! You damn dead teeth clatterers! Why couldn't you just stay dead the -First- Time!'' In a fit of wanton rage and wasted energy, Astros unleashed his anger upon the dead with reckless abandon.
Shaking her head, the priestess finished praying for yet another lost soul and plunged a dagger into its waning heart. Better a quick, silent death than to wake and find one's ruptured entrails cast serpentine across a leg severed at the knee. One down; countless more to balm, bless, soothe - and if need be - liberate from this mortal coil. The din of wailing agony and scattered soldiers did soon overwhelm what she then spoke.
"Save your energy for what lies ahead, young fool... The battle has only just begun. May Obeah have mercy on your soul, for the damned have none to spare."
Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
Vahanian wiped the dirt, mud, and blood from his face and caught his breath. It had been a long fight, only a handful of his men still stood, some were with the healers and others with the Veiled Goddess. Vahanian accepted a skin of water and looked up at the sky before drinking and muttered. "Obeah grant me strength."
He looked out across the field and saw Astros acting like the child he was screaming and throwing a tantrum. "Save your energy boy. You'll need it later." Vahanian muttered under his breath. He turned and saw Countess Yxevarii watching from a hilltop. He turned to Baldwin and said "Invite her to dine with us tonight, its long past time she and I talked. I will check on the men, and meet you back at camp." Baldwin nodded and hurried off to send the invitation.
Roleplay from Alacrix Galar
Alacrix heave the last wounded on to the cart to be taken to the healers. He pulled out a handkerchief that he had bought on the day he arrived at Rines. He paused to stare at it. He missed his former estate, but the order was given by the Oracle so he had to leave it. He heard a shout in the distance and he saw the infamous Astros bellowing his rage and attacking the undead. “I know how you feel Astros I know.†He began to remember the battle of Greck and how his men were decimated there and on the journey to Rines. In an unusual feeling of kinship he shouted. “BROTHER ASTROS FIND ME AT THE INN I WILL HAVE A FLAGON WAITING FOR YOU!†With that he turned and started the walk back to the healers tent.
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Ouch, Astros will never be a nice man I fear and this RP is another one of his malevolent deeds. Enjoy the writing.
Damnation, another Confiscation!
Having stopped a small time merchant deeply invested in the wine trade Astros had his captain pour over the man's bills of sale and records of inventory. His men, big and brutish as they were shied away from the yet greater physique of their Master, Astros. He paced deliberately around the merchant's donkey drawn cart. Stuffed with small casks, flasks, bottles and even two full sized wine barrels. Hands early roven over the goods and non to carefully grabbing items left and right. Clinking crude glass containers together to the point of breaking and bringing haphazardly opened bottles to his lips for ''sampling''. Ensuring the authenticity of course.
''This doesn't seem like Melegra noire! No sir, it does -not-!'' A deep sigh accompanied a highly theatrical slump of the shoulders. ''This won't! Do!'' The bullish neck swung the huge head from left to right. ''Not, at, all!'' Indicating the entire cart and contents with his free hand. ''In the name of the Inquisition, I confiscate these goods!'' A wicked glint sparked in Astros's eyes. He saw the growing desperation in the merchant. ''But sir! Good sir.. This is all I have. Its all documented and, and..!'' The poor man's words were cut short by a vicious punch in the stomach.
Astros looked up in mild surprise. ''Well have I ever. Well, Have I ever?!'' A broad grin began to dominate his face. ''Anticipating my every wish captain!'' Several appreciative nods later Astros focused back onto the merchant again. Whom by now had begun to regain his air. ''You do not want me to ask you about the Third Law of the Veiled Goddess, do you?'' Astros leaned in close and stared the now huddling merchant down. ''N..n-nn-no. No good sir.'' The merchant dared to glance up at Astros for a second. ''Good!'' A huge hand whacked the man on the shoulder and was forceful enough to send the diminutive man crashing into a roadside puddle.
Laughter erupted from the band of Brutes as they began to take possession of the wine cart and began to move it along. Before following them Astros planted his steel sabbaton clad foot on the prone merchant's back. ''Don't even think about complaining to the Templars, the Inquisition knows all.'' A murderous look had accompanied the words but it miraculously swift turned into a twisted grin as Astros left the man where he lay. Linking back up with his men, he too joined in on the laughing they did.
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Hey there and welcome back.
Today I've got a little RP that is about retrospect. That and in a way I wrote it in thanks to the player of the Gildre Family who saw fit to gift 1000 gold for no particularly reason to my character hehe. Here's to you!
After a Night of Feasting
Precariously balancing between the table and the chair Astros was sleeping off last night's drinking bout. The chair ever more straining under the weight of the huge man and the table ever confident that it would never give an inch. The result being that with every heavy breath, the big man pushed himself and the chair a fraction further away from the table and thus, safety. ''Sir?'' The word piercing the dream Astros was having and pulled him out of the dreamscape and into the waking world. A weak gripping left hand sought purchase with the table as something deep in his head told him the world was unstable. A haze of alcohol diluted thoughts cascaded through his mind as his eyes failed to make sense of what was around him.
A loud smack brought about an end to the seemingly ever revolving world and brought with it, a sharp pain. Originating from his chin and quickly spreading across the entire left side of his face. ''Sir?..'' This time far more pensive. ''What?..'' The word formed slowly in Astros' mouth. ''What?!'' More akin to a barking dog as he tried to put more force behind it. Realizing he was on the ground Astros tried to push the chair away that now ensnared him on the floor. Making noise and actually knocking the chair over so that it crashed loudly onto the wooden floorboards.
''What did you wanted us to do again with the chests?'' The tall warrior uttered the words with more uncertainty then befitted his appearance. With broad shoulders, well made armor and a weather-worn face he looked the part of a grizzled fighter yet somehow, he didn't sound the part in the company of his master. A low rumbling noise emanated from Astros' throat as he brought himself to rise to his feet. Supporting himself heavily on the table as he rubbed his face and bald scalp with his spare hand. Rubbing his particularly prominent nose felt especially nice for some unexplainable reasons so he did it a few times over.
Peering through his fingers at the warrior the situation mentally congealed for him. The chests of silver the man had meant. The reason they'd been drinking all night. Celebrating their good fortune to have received such a windfall. ''What about it?'' Astros growled at the warrior. ''Well sir, the innkeeper is getting nervous having so much wealth on display in the main commons room.'' Eyebrows conveyed that a similar concern was shared by the man.
Picking at the sleep that dutifully tried to keep his eyes shut, Astros flicked the stuff at the man. ''Fine! then bring the chests to my estate in Avengmil.'' As blood coursed through the veins on his neck and the side of head Astros felt a pang of insecurity. ''And Don't you !@#$lubbers dare to lose even a single coin of it!'' A murderous look accompanied the words that were part borne from the rising headache Astros felt coupled with a need to smash something in an attempt to alleviate said headache.
So Astros recalled the feasting he and his men had done when they had received the bountiful gift from Lady Jessica of House Gildre. Unable to understand why they were the beneficiary but quick to cease caring all together as mouths filled with copious amounts of alcohol.
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Hey there and welcome.
Today I have a battle.. well, kind of a fight RP. There was another election for the position of Ruler and with Astros being one of only two contenders, he was particularly unhappy about not winning the election. Here's how he reacts when he gets the news.
Bad News
Passing a roadside Cairn enscribed with a small and crude depiction of a lizard-like creature with wings inside of a house situated in the bend of a curving line that pointed left, Astros and his men were intercepted by a messenger. The woman rode a simple yet healthy four legged beast. The Noble variety mind you. A coat of hazel brown and bestowed with a jet black snout.
''Sir Astros?'' The messenger lady intoned. Her voice like hammered Iron. Clear and piercing. At the mention of his name Astros looked up at her. The early morning light cast by the dawn sun reflecting white off of his bald scalp. ''Well hello, there.'' An ugly grin revealed his white teeth. The messenger didn't show any sign of emotion as she resolved to refuse the nasty man that pleasure. ''The results of the election are in.'' She stuck out a sealed scroll and Astros took it. Curious he thought, as his eyes informed him that the messenger remained. Did they finally see reason? His fingers carelessly broke the seal and saw the solidified wax fall among the weeds below.
Eyes scanning the parchment as it unfurled in his hands. His jaw came ajar, his nostrils flared and an angry sound started to rise from the depths of his throat. A private smirk was treasured by the lady messenger as she readied to depart. Skillfully handling the reins that controlled her steed. Mid turn and almost out of harms way it happened. Astros threw the parchment away. It dove into a bramble bush ripe with raspberries and thick with ferns. Before she could react and with her flank exposed, Astros unleashed his anger in the form of murderous steel. His massive hands gripped the black handle of his greatsword and in a display of rage and monstrosity that silenced even his most vile followers he hacked at the woman that had brought him the fateful news. She barely saw the blow coming. The greatsword entered her body at the right shoulder and sliced all the way down to her hips. Rending skin, muscle, bone and clothes. Her silent scream captured only by her face of fright. Lungs unable to produce the air or volume as they too were cleft.
As her feet were snug in the stirrups the lower part of her body remain in the saddle as the top part, now awkwardly top heavy, lurched to the left side. As gravity pulled, what remained of the connection of top and bottom half, tore apart. Blood squired under pressure and a fine yet sticky, crimson mist burst forth in a tiny cloud at the very moment the two halves were finally and completely separated.
A red fresco of droplets of messenger blood grimly decorated Astros' face as he turned to his men. Right before the muffled crash of the messenger's body hit the ground below. Wordlessly he stuck his tongue out and beheld his men with madman's eyes. Many of which averted their eyes and couldn't stand to meet such insanity head on. Was it insanity or was it something else. They didn't know and none of them wished to find out for real.
The rest of the day was spend in quiet avoidance. None spoke of the event and they all dutifully followed their master to the battlefields of Avengmil.
-
Hey there!
A little continuation of the previous RP. Allowing plot hooks for other players. That was my intention.
Some more Bad News
A drum and flute indicated the arrangement of the defense in Avengmil. Steady and sharp as they mingled. A puffy officer of the army strutted over to where Astros and his men were stationed along the palisade. ''Stationed'' being a broad term for they were merely hanging around a given section of the flimsy defensive structure closest to a tavern they fancied. Its proprietor held mixed feelings about this for his own reasons. One being a steady inflow of coins from Astros and his men but on the other hand, they kept other customers largely at bay with their presence. Making his establishment their de facto headquarters.
''Sir Astros?'' The pig nosed officer declared as his beady eyes studied the much larger man before him. Astros felt anger rise in his gut like a slow tide. He turned to face the officer whom he instantly, immensely loathed. The officer's prim voice was already grating against his nerves. ''Yes, I do suppose you fit the description..'' The officer muttered just a little too loudly as he pulled his nose up at Astros. ''You are to hold here as the Beasts advance.'' A clammy hand produced a thin, stick-like finger that somehow still managed to scream the word piggish. It indicated the palisade right next to them. ''Pointing out the obvious eh? Porkstubbs!'' A voice came from among the throng of Astros's warriors.
The fatty officer's cheeks flushed. ''Who said that!'' His voice pitched. ''Who! I demand it!'' He raised his chin imperiously and half turned which caused a curl of his hair to come free in a most unseemly wayward manner. Rolling his shoulders Astros managed to shift the heavy metal pauldrons that framed his head and guarded his upper arms. ''Run along, little man.'' Astros's voice was utterly calm but laced with barely contained malignance. Startled at the promise and stepping back as he realized, the puffy officer stared with eyes wide open as he saw the throng of men come alive as a single creature. Borne from wrath and sniffing the scent of fear. Astros's men stirred and moved, nay, flowed around the officer. Taking another two steps back the officer didn't wait for what would come next and turned sharply about and all but ran away.
The ensuing battle, if you wanted to call it that, was over before it truly began. The beasts ran towards the palisades but none of them made it. All died due to the iron rain that fell upon them. Sprung from the bows of the faithful.
Afterwards however, Astros was informed of something perhaps far more dangerous. His little outburst on the road to Avengmil had been witnessed. The Lady messenger that he had murdered. Hacked in two you could say. Several commoners had seen him do it. One was a bee keeper inspecting the ''grazing'' grounds of his bees. Another was a lumberjack while the third was a traveling scribe, about to take up a new posting with a local magistrate.
Thoughts raced through Astros' mind. He then growled at the warrior that had informed him. ''It doesn't matter! They wouldn't dare wag their tongues.'' He knew they might, it made him angry. A foul mood that endured all throughout that day.
-
Hey there!
Looks like someone took me up on the RP. Awesome. None other than the Ruler of the Realm. This Rp is written by him and all credits go to:
The player of Yxevarii Auru'in
Don't Stab the Messenger
"By the body of rage given form, the mask of deceit hath been torn. By the virtuelessness of Ego manifest, the body of faith must reform."
The expected reports came in faster than Grandmistress Yxevarii could read them. waxen-seals from rulers the world over; well-wishes from friends and strangers alike; scout-reports from beyond Ardmore; all commonplace save one particular batch.
The first from a scribe hired to bolster the Grandmistress' record-keeping abilities. The second from the captain of a patrol who discovered a beekeeper hiding in a ditch. The third from a common brigand seeking amnesty from the Inquisition in exchange for information. The fourth from a local woodsman. A market stall vendor. A traveling merchant. An Inquisition informant. A hunter. Still others came. One in particular from a seasoned tavern-owner and his barkeep; well-trained in eavesdropping on drunken warriors with curious tales. It seems that two of the murderer's own men couldn't stomach their leader's madness and descended into an alcoholic stupor. Good for the Inquisition's agents and eavesdroppers; not so good for the murderer. Finally - Prophet Rania herself spoke... And when the Prophet spoke, people damn-well listened.
What common thread bound them all?They each bespoke acts of calculated evil at the hands of a traitor to Obeah.
A crazed outburst on the road to Avengmil had been witnessed - an innocent messenger callously murdered. Cleaved in two it would seem... Several commoners had seen and reported the act. The suspect is said to have groaned and screeched like a Hellspawned beast, striking the lass with his broadsword. Though the murderer and his men fled the scene, their bloodied footsteps went quite a ways. The witnesses waved down a local patrol only minutes later. They immediately secured the body and began investigating. Within minutes both the missive and its waxen seal were in their custody - as well as a terrified beekeeper and a common thief. Due to the particularly brazen method used in the murder, lack of a sufficient murder weapon on scene, coupled with the wiry thief's inability to enact such inhuman force, the guardsmen merely relinquished him of his dagger and calmly escorted him to the Inquisition for interrogation without further conflict. The others were advised to follow for debriefing, and a passing merchant's cart was hired to transport the corpse for further investigation.
Thanks to the loyal service of certain faithful men and women, coupled by the abject horror in witnessing such evil, the culprit's name and a list of other crimes came to light. It seems, however, that word spreads fast in Obia'Syela: for Prophet Rania herself somehow heard of all this even before the Inquisition's report reached their new Grandmistress. The Prophet instructed Grandmistress to accomplish what was already her sole focus: complete her investigation and enact due justice upon the murderer. No sooner did she read those words and dispatch an officer to keep the murderer in place.
Multiple units were dispatched to safeguard his exit, in case the aggressor struck again. Rangers in the high ground, infantry at the low. Assassins in the shadows. False-beggars in the streets. The Grandmistresses' own elite rangers, "Divine Retribution", bolstered these forces with particular effectiveness. Such men never miss their mark.
The order was made: Astros Renodin would be stripped of his Inquisitorial badge and all subsequent privileges, to be kept under guard pending investigation of a lengthy list of crimes. He would submit to interrogation or be branded a traitor to the realm.
Coincidentally, the entire army just so happened to be there.
For a man who spoke so much of traitors and retribution, he knew quite well what would happen if he refused to go peacefully.
Second RP written by the same player:
No One Expects the Obian Inquisition:
Surprise, fear, and ruthless efficiency are the hallmarks of the Inquistion. Its agents are everywhere: fanatical devotees whose eyes and ears know all. Astros Renodin would soon learn just how little he understood the organization he claimed to uphold, and had so carelessly slandered by the virtuelessness of his rage.
The officer's report had come in handy after all. It seems all 57 of Astros' men were hammered to oblivion, including three wounded. Unbeknownst to them, the "prized cask of Thalmarkian vintage" fearfully relinquished by the tavern owner had been drugged with a plethora of peculiar herbs: a clever ruse any seasoned agent of the Inquisition would never fall for. Astros Renodin, however, was no such thing. He and his men would soon realize neither blade nor manhood would rise for many an hour... Perfect timing for an ambush, some would say.
Multiple units were dispatched to safeguard his escape, in case Astros had more rage than common sense. Rangers were posted on nearby rooftops, watchtowers, and in the high ground near ever available avenue of escape. Infantry were set to wander the streets and populate nearby taverns and inns, ready to filter out at the blow of a horn or the sound of clashing steel. Assassins walked the shadows like black cats, false-beggars poised to switch stretched palm for poisoned dagger. The Grandmistresses' own elite rangers, "Divine Retribution", bolstered these forces with particular effectiveness. Such men never miss their mark.
The order was made: the forces in place. A beggar was sent into the tavern to egg him on and draw his forces out onto the street, watched over by a number of agents who had gradually filtered into the establishment one at a time. Others-still had snuck in via the second-story side windows, rappelling up through a dingy alleyway only drunks and criminals dared frequent. As pre-arranged, the more visible agents' mugs were filled with nothing more than apple or cranberry juice - for true agents of the Inquisition know never to drink on duty.
The moment Astros walked out into the open air, he would be surrounded by magnitudes more than he could ever handle. If the fool decided to fight back, he'd be filled with steel bolts and piercing arrows before he took a single step more.
In case anything went wrong, the commanders of the Enlightened were alerted and select units set to bolster the ambush. Worst come to worst, the entire army stood nearby.
With everyone in place, Grandmistress Yxevarii joined her men and took a position of her own. A seasoned ranger all her life, no title would spare her from leading the Enlightened from the frontlines. Aiming her bow at the entrance of the tavern, she stood ready to rain justice down upon those who dare betray the Light of Obeah.
"...There WILL be ORDER."
-
Aaaand, my response.
Hello Grandmistress
''Oi come over 'ere. I'll make worth yer while.'' Something twinkled just beyond the grasp of his comprehension. The voice was weird. Like it wasn't entirely clear. As if it was muffled with a cloth or that otherworldly effect that accompanied screaming underwater. Astros furrowed his brow and stared the man down. Leaning forwards heavily making every attempt to make out the man's face. Why was he feeling so hot? His hand shot out to grasp a pillar that signified the end of the bar. It aided his sense of balance. I didn't drink that much did I? The thought swimming around in his mind.
He felt a tug on his harness. So strong. What?.. The bar-stool crashed to the ground and he experienced firsthand how wobbly his legs were. His head flopped to the side as he braced himself against the bar. A massive gulp of air brought temporary respite. His nostrils akin to those of a horse as they sucked in the air. ''Who.. are you?'' The words all but blurted out of his mouth. The beggar agent didn't bother replying.
Something wasn't right. The air smelled sour, or was that his cup? He stared down at the bar that housed his mug but it seemed miles away. Certainly too far a distance to bend down and sniff. It suddenly felt like a herculean task. Astros curled his upper lip in distaste. Not worth the effort. He turned his attention back to the cowled man. The moon-like twinkle was still there. He was holding it out to him. Greed, a natural instinct for Astros kicked in. His big left hand swung out haphazardly and tried to catch the shiny object the man was holding out. The attempt failed.
What is happening to me? An eye wandered the length of the bar and scanned the room as far as he was able. It was dimly lit and the windows were shuttered. Preventing all but a few rays of daylight into the establishment. Was it nighttime? The thought crossed his mind as he noticed more than a dozen of his men passed out on the other end of the bar and nestled on or around one of the round tables nearby. Something tugged at him again. ''Feck off!'' Astros growled. His left arm menaced the air but found no target.
''Baldie! ey! Baldie, come over here.'' Astros squinted at the general direction of the sound. ''What did you call me?'' He managed to challenge, feeling a deep insecurity rise in the recesses of his mind. He instantly hated it. Practically tasting the hate he willed it to overpower that sense of insecurity brought on by the needling words. ''You want these shinies baldie?'' The voice took on a teasing, mocking tone even. ''You think he even understands what you're saying?'' Another voice asked the first. ''Oh he does. Just look at his eyes. Baldie knows doesn't he?'' The first voice asserted.
A hot substance stirred in his heart. It coursed through his veins and bloomed throughout his body all the way to his fingers and down to his toes. Astros growled audibly. Hate made him feel powerful. Anger swelled the veins on his bare neck. Adrenaline battled the effects of the tranquilizing herbs that had been used to spike the Thalmarkian wine. Some of the herb induced fog that had been plaguing his mind began to be burned away, by the yet infantile blaze of rage that had ignited.
Eyes informed Astros that two rattish men stood before him. Just outside of arm's reach. Spindly framed and with crooked noses. What they would've boasted in height they negated by their bend stance. They revolted Astros. Vermin. The Balls of his eyes showed extra white as they transmitted unspoken hate across to the room to the two beggar agents. Turning his massive head left and then right Astros took in the sight. His men were knocked out, drooling or sleeping in puddles of fallen drinks, plates of half eaten meals or vomit. Trickery! The word materialized in his mind as clear as a flagpole bearing a red flag taut during a spring storm.
For the first time that morning, the two beggar agents felt the hand of fear grip their spine. Astros forced himself to stand on his own two feet. Pushing himself away from the bar. His right hand grasped the handle of his greatsword. Its familiar touch lend him strength. ''How is he..?'' The second agent stammered. ''Why isn't he knocked out like the rest of them?'' More than a hint of panicked urgency laced the words. Prudently both of the agents backed off. The first one had the presence of mind to bait Astros a bit more. Presence of mind or foolishness, you pick. Glancing back over his shoulder the first beggar agent judged the distance to the exit before turning back to Astros. ''Oi! Baldie! Not even your own mother loved yer Ugly excuse of a face!'' The words hurt. Driving home like a squadron of cavalry charging down a sorry lot of service pressed peasants with clubs.
A low rumble started in Astros' throat. His eyes huge and his head leaning forward like a huge predatory cat. His shadow dancing around him in the torchlight. The faint shimmering of his naked greatsword added to the ethereal look as he arched his head backwards slowly. The growl rose in volume as he did so. The two agents were rooted in place as the raw sound made the hairs on their neck stand up.
Reaching a high crescendo Astros let out a fierce roar that preceded his sudden charge. The black handled greatsword trailed behind him like a steel tail. Knocked chairs over, bashing tables aside with his body. The two agents all but fell over one another as they bolted for the exit. The first made it. He shoulder rushed the door open. Never slowing down as he ran for his life. The second was blinded by the sudden burst of daylight that washed over him and invaded the darkened tavern.
White light pierced his vision. All inside his skull was white. He couldn't see a thing. Astros roared in frustration. With all his might he swung his inhumanly big sword. It hummed through the air. First it resisted the motion but as Astros powered it with his muscles the blade assented to the motion. It took on a life of its own as the blade's considerable weight joined the force of Astros' muscles. It bit into something hard. A groan could be heard. Followed by a crash. Astros felt his balance being lost and tried to turn and find stable footing. Broken plaster and rock-dust rained down onto his bald scalp. Squinting through the slits of his eyes, bending forwards as his greatsword rested on the ground before him, the world started to reveal itself before his eyes.
An old, shattered beam stood next to him. It used to be part of the door-frame of the tavern but no longer. Astros' blow had struck the door-frame and all but destroyed the left-side of it. Utterly wrecking one of the two support beams that held up the wall above the door. Parts of the plastered wall sported a brand new scar in the form of a gash where the greatsword had marred the wall.
The two beggar agents looked on in dumbfounded horror. In particular the second one as his mind graphically described to him how his body might've looked like if he'd been the one struck instead of the door-frame.
Heaving, pulling in air with his lungs, Astros knew a moment of uncertainty. The street was empty save for the warriors of the brand new Grandmistress. His chalk powdered head white with dust. A single hand still on his greatsword, he roared a challenge. Words yet unavailable to him. Ruin written in his eyes as he looked at the nearest warriors. Warriors of the Enlightened that felt a tinge of fear as they received Astros' bestial look.
Behind him, Astros had little idea of the trained assassins that prepared themselves for what might come. They unsheathed daggers and the only thing that gave them away was the creaking of the wooden tavern floor. Astros barely glanced as he instinctively knew the danger. Uncertain of what it was but like a deer being aware of hidden wolves, so he knew there was a threat behind him.
After a moment that seemed like an age, not five heartbeats. Astros saw the Grandmistress. He saw how she held a bow and had an arrow trained on him. She wasn't the only one. His eyes informed that there were at least a dozen with easy shots on him. More probably. The street was filled with warriors. None of them on his side. They were everywhere. He heard an audible step behind him. It was accompanied by the rhythmic breathing of at least three more men. Trained men. Astros thought. He bared his teeth. A low rumble rose from his throat. ''What is this?!'' The initial surge of hate fuelled adrenaline started to fade. He swooned where he stood. ''Explain this!'' He demanded as spittle flew from his mouth.
So Astros was confronted, all alone, with the men and women under the command of the Grandmistress outside of a seedy tavern in Avengmil.
-
Hey there!
Following will be a set of RP written by, mostly, other people. Credit due to all of those people of course. I'm always humbled when other people take the effort to write a piece that includes my character. This time it was no different.
Roleplay from the player of Jessica Gildre
Jessica flopped onto a soft couch, finally returned from her latest adventure in the rogue prison camp. What a waste of time. Bryant cleared his throat and she raised an eyebrow at him, tired.
"M'Lady," he said, "The gold?" He held up the list of nobles in the realm, just like last time.
She forced herself up and walked over. Taking the list, she looked at it and sighed. A. She recognized the letter A. A for Astros, right? She pointed to the shorter of the two.
"Sir Astros?" Bryant asked cautiously, "...all of it?" She nodded twice. This would be best. She had seen Astros take life. She respected his abilities to destroy. He would know what to do with all the gold.
She looked at the front door. Perhaps she would put off her next adventure for a couple days, and spend some time training at the academy...
Yes, she thought, That sounds like a splendid idea.
-
Roleplay from the player of Vahanian Blint
Vahanian rode up to the tavern where Astros was drugged. He had destroyed the doorframe with his sword and was stumbling about in front of the building. 100 of Vahanian's heavily armed men circled the building and covered all of the exits. All of them prepared to murder every last soldier under Astros's command.
Vahanian dismounted and approached the Grandmistress, he bowed his head and said to her "My apologies for being late Grandmistress, my men have reinforced the perimeter and are at your disposal. The command is yours to give"
Vahanain hoped that he would not have to engage in direct combat with Astros, he was still a bit weak from his stay in prison, and he hand't had the time to eat today so he was feeling a bit unsteady.
Roleplay from Jessica Gildre
Jessica ducked, side stepped around a straw filled dummy, and sprang back up with two quick strikes from her dagger. She stopped, turned with a hand on her hip to her master servant, and raised an eyebrow.
"It would seem that the Grandmistress has issued a warrant for Sir Astros. Seems to be a bit of a showdown at center ville..." he reported, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Jessica shot him a quick, crooked grin. She sheathed her daggers and grabbed her cloak as she followed Bryant out the door.
***
Jessica arrived to a scene of full chaos. The Grand Templar's heavy infantry had posted up all around the tavern, blocking the streets. The soldiers, seeing her, allowed her to pass, but blocked Bryant's path.
"Sorry, m'Lady," a soldier said apologetically, "Strict orders from the Grand Templar to maintain a perimeter. Can't stop you, as is your birth right, but I can't let him past."
She looked worriedly at Bryant who shrugged at her.
Well, she thought, that certainly makes things more difficult...
She strode towards the tavern. Half the door had been smashed thoroughly, and a dazed looking Astros stood waveringly outside, the great slab of steel he called a sword hanging limply in his hand.
She saw Grandmistress Yxevarii and Grand Templar Vahanian standing together across the street from Astros, and there were soldiers everywhere at the ready.
She stopped next to Astros and looked at him. If he was aware of her presence, he made no sign of it. She ran a finger along his bald scalp, slick with sweat. She frowned to herself as she examined him. Was he drugged? Poisoned? She shrugged. Impossible to tell at this point. Would have to let him sleep and see if he wakes up or not.
Slowly, purposefully, she paced around the hulk of a man, studying him. She stopped on the other side of him and turned to look back across the lane.
It seemed to Jessica that they had themselves a Gotlandian Standoff, only they didn't have any goats...
Roleplay from Kiki Raven
Kiki's Little Eyes
Though Kiki is long way from front lines of Avengmil, even she sees troubles what have been brewing. While she does not know the cause, her preachers have told her that Grand Templar has ordered simple tavern to be surrounded with large amount of troops. She still depises Grand Templar Vahanian or rather back then simply Templar Vahanian for making her "loyal" knight leave the holy realm. What's worse he dared to call Kiki ugly, while clearly she is most beautiful and graceful in whole mortal plane. She had to ruin his operation somehow. So she began plotting how to humiliate Grand Templar.
Kiki's Grand Plan
Looking down to empty courthall, she thought how to humiliate Grand Templar. While simply demanding answers would been easy way, it was also a way others to folly her plans and it would also inform that she has eyes even places other than her domain. So she needed something more sneaky, humiliating and hopefully spmething that would leave bad mark on his career. She thought and thought until she saw one of her servants. Wearing black robe and mask, as their peasant faces must not be seen by the nobles who are at Kiki's court. Kiki however knew that if Grand Templar is willing to use whole unit to surround one simple tavern, it is no lowly criminal but someone valueable.
She stands from her throne, breathes and then yells with her voice: "All those who wear masks gather in front of the Memoria, we are traveling to main island." She begins climbing down from the stairs to her throne to begin move toward the sieged tavern.
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The next RP is by a character that is actually an undead. Long story, trust me.
Roleplay from Gythrul Attano
Gythrul had heard that troops had been ordered to a tavern in Avengmil. Simply showing a servant the symbol on his breastplate terrified him enough to reveal to the Knight the tavern’s location.
The former Apostate made his way to the tavern, ignoring the wraiths and spirits that cluttered the empty path. With some force of will, he managed to make them disappear from his sight.
Finally he reached the street in front of the tavern, showing the guards his seal. They made an Obian sign to ward off evil before reluctantly letting him pass.
He saw a small gathering of nobles around this monster of a man. The greatsword he wielded was a massive slab of worked steel. The Wraith noted the gash in the door frame above the massive man. What he would have given to have him in the armies of Spearhold, he would have given a lesser Daimon a run for it’s money in a fight. He instantly felt respect for the man.
He also noted several archers with bows pointed at the staggering man in the doorway. Gythrul was unsurprised by the sheer show of force, given the man’s apparent strength.
He took a few steps forward, standing just behind the archers.
“He would give Erasmus a spot of trouble.†The wraith rasped beneath his mask. “Perhaps not.â€
Roleplay from Jessica Gildre
Jessica watched the newcomer approach the situation which wasn't unfolding. She had no idea who he was, but she assumed he was at least part of the aristocracy since the guards let him through the parimeter.
She looked at the hulking form of Astros. She wanted to yell at him, to break his stupor, but that was a physical impossibility.
So Jessica slapped him hard on the face.
Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
The hairs on the back of Vahanian's neck stood up, something about this situation and the influx of nobles made him uneasy. He glanced around the gathering of people, mentally noting everyone that had approached. He turned and whispered something to his captain, and in a short time his soldiers who had been deployed around the back of the tavern had moved back to the front reinforcing the lines guarding his and the Grandmistress's back. He turned to his captain and said.
"Nobody gets beyond this point without direct approval from me. I don't care if it's a noble of this realm, the Oracle, or Obeah her self. Nothing moves beyond your perimeter without my direct authorization. You would do well not to defy me on this, Captain."
His captain nodded and deployed the troops as such. "By the veil I miss Leatho.." Vahanian thought to himself. As much as he had disapproved of his brother's "wet-work" he always felt at ease around his brother.. they understood each other, they protected each other.
A messenger arrived, and was detained at the perimeter, Vahanian nodded to his captain allowing just that man through who handed Vahanian a scroll he read it over. He crumpled the paper and burned it. Before pulling a pipe from his cloak and stuffing some tobacco into it and lighting it. As he puffed on the pipe and chewed on the end of the pipe, he was mentally swearing. "So.. the self-proclaimed beauty of the world is moving from her tower of lies.. The harlot will only complicate things.." He thought to himself.
He was equal parts glad and frustrated. He was glad he had placed a spy within Kiki's court, and also frustrated that she was picking this moment to do something.
Roleplay from Kiki Raven
From her caravan, Kiki was first to step over Avengmil Cjelegy border, behind her was army of servants, wagons filled with wine, fresh meat and masterfully made stools and tables for those who are fighting on the front lines. Only things Kiki demands are how great nobility is seated and that there was a seat for every great noble from the realm, even if they were not within Avengmil. Her knight Tom is to be seated left of her and Oracle's seat to her right, even if she cannot make it, there must be seat for great Oracle. After the Tom's seat every other knight's seat, while after the Oracle's seat is to be for grandmistress and after her The Government and lords/ladies of the realm. Lesser noble tables are front of Great table, placed sideways, Common soldier tables are furthest from Kiki, as she despises commoners and their diseases.
She also has her scribes start writing invitations while kitchen staff begins preparing for tonight. After giving out orders she prepares to meet with Usul, as she still wishes for the scrolls that he has to offer. She controls herself for the last time infront of the mirror, grabs her goldpurse and sets out.
-
Roleplay from Kiki Raven
Banquet
As little feast is about to begin, young woman in her early twenties stands up from one of the great chairs infront of the all tables. Slender body, white hair and unusual pupils, however her eyes did not show any warmth from them. "I am Kiki Raven, Countess of Melegra and priest of Obeah, I would like to thank all who could make it to my little feast tonight. Fighting monsters and other things not from this world has always is always dangerous and exhausting, for this reason I would like to host this little banquet to all those who defend our holy realm. Wine selection from my own cellar, while honeyed mead from Melegra's local beehives. While the meat is as fresh as it can get." She rises her small cup for a moment and then sits back to her seat. As she sits her servants enter from the shadows holding huge trays full of warm food, jugs full of honeyed mead and high quality wine.
Around the Avengmil
While the banquet was held, strange masked people wearing servants of Obeah robes were investigating what or who was inside the besieged tavern and what is their crime. All who peasants who refused to cooperate were threaten with wrath of Obeah and relocation closer to bridge that held the humanity in the south. Kiki had to know what awaited her beyond that tavern door, thus no civilian or milita was going to make it without questioning by the servants of Kiki.
Roleplay from Alacrix Galar
“Off duty at last!†Alacrix was whistling a jaunty tune as he made his way to the tavern. He was in a good mood. His men had been training hard the past couple of days and the new recruits were finally shaping up. He was in the middle of whistling “The Demon Cursed My Trousers†when he say a crowd gathered out side the bar. He saw that they were all gathered around Astros. Upon seeing that Astros was the center of everyone’s attention he turned and started back to his tent. “Good thing I have my emergency ‘Astros destroyed the tavern...again’ wine safely tucked away.†He resumed whistling his jaunty tune as he strolled away.
Roleplay from Kiki Raven
Next day
Over the night Kiki's servants have been collecting information. Her servants were able to collect information as detailed as where is the smallest nail within the Tavern. When she however heard who was inside that building, she was annyoed. For her Astros is bit too much unpredictable, someone who would not listen to reason even if he got hit at top of his head with it. But he was still splinter in the eye for Vahanian so Astros may be use for her still, as much as Vahanian was for Kiki. She knew if she wanted to humiliate Vahanian, she would need 1st get pass him, but the doors to tavern were sealed harder than portal to Daimons homeland and the gatekeeper for them were Vahanian himself. Kiki had to meet with the man she despises if she wishes to enter. Thus she began making preparations for meeting. She bathed, got her black silk robes and readied herself in front of the mirror. After finishing she grabbed her gifts for Grand Templar and set foot toward Grand Templar camp.
At front of Vahanian camp
When she arrived in front of Grand Templar camp, she and her servants were denied access, as she did not have official meeting planned with Grand Templar and that the same masked people were sniffing around the military camps yesterday. Kiki was furious, not only her graceful movement has been stopped by common troops, but they would also question her motives. She refused to speak to the guards in front of the pass into camp, instead she whispered to her servant's ear. The servant step foward and spoke: " Who are you to question the plans of great and beautiful lady of Melegra! For daring to speak to her without kneeling before her is a sin. She is the Lady Herald of Obeah. Loyal servant of Oracle and person with great magical gift. Unless you want all personnel in this camp excommuni..." Kiki snaps at young servant before she is able to finish her last sentance. Servant kneels and begs for forgiveness before retreating behind Kiki. She has had enough, she looks with her cold eyes at one of the guards and tells him in gentle voice: " It is not wise to send priesthood away, now go tell your commander that I am waiting to meet with him at first chance. Even I have my patience and it would be a shame if Oracle heard how odd Grand Templar is acting, holding normal tavern besieged, not letting even nobles enter it." The man in front of Kiki cannot comprehend the situation anymore, as he is not sure if the the person infront of him is even a person, her eyes let out coldness that even undead are sometimes unable to match, while her voice, was like mother lecturing her child. The other guard began to draw his sword as even he got chill from that, but he was stopped by Kiki's servant:
"You would dare to draw sword against Obeah's priestess and against the sister of a ruler? Even your commander can't save you and your family if you do that!"
Kiki's voice changed to more authorial: "Now move pig, even someone as beautiful and graceful as I do not have whole day to wait until you move your little dirty legs!" Her voice and eyes were now in sync. They truly showed that she cared nothing more than about herself.
Roleplay from Vahanian Blint
Vahanian was informed of Kiki causing a scene at the perimeter. She was making this task increasingly difficult and he was losing his patience. She was interrupting both himself and the Grand Mistress and it was causing him to consider seriously planning her death.
He whispered something to his Captain, who now issued orders to forceably arrest and detain any noble or servant attempting passage without his direct consent. He turned from his post and walked to where Kiki was throwing a tantrum. "Lady Kiki, a pleasure to see you again. I am in the middle of government business at the moment, but I have had my men prepare a tent for you to wait while we finish this spectacle. I hope it will be more comfortable than you waiting outside among this rabble." he said politely with a courteous smile. He gestured to a tent nearby that he'd had his men prepare. Inside were two rather comfortable chairs, a cot with blankets and pillows, a table with some simple, but filling food and wine. As well as a kettle to make tea.
After Vahanian extended the invitation to Lady Kiki he said "Now, Lady Kiki, if you would excuse me I must return to work." He gave her a small polite bow of the head and returned to his post, not giving her a chance to respond.
-
Roleplay from Yxevarii Auru'in
"...ASTROS RENODIN!"
They say a peal of thunder rang out as the traitor's name echoed in unison. A light rain had begun to fall as anxious warriors gathered before the coming storm. The sunset blaze dimmed with swift intent as lightning cleaved the landscape in two; shadow silhouettes dancing across the crowded avenue as if the Goddess had drawn her Veil to blanket Astros in darkness.
One hundred and thirty rangers of the Divine Retribution stood at the ready, arrows nocked and bows drawn taught. Agents of the Inquisition skulked in the shadows while curious nobles stood and gawked behind their armored Templar brothers. Intoxicated and wholly unprepared, Astros stood powerless to defy a righteous lot cast of divine fury and overwhelming odds. Even the greatest of unholy beasts could but scratch the surface of a living wall whose veteran shields would lock and fall into place at the slightest motion - tested against a thousand hordes that had come and gone in vain.
All manner of experts had infiltrated their surroundings with an arsenal of curious weapons; from armor-piercing crossbows and entangling bolas to javelins and range-defying halberds. Agents poised above the maelstrom grasped firmly at metal-reinforced nets, while death's kiss smiled through blowguns packed with fast-acting toxins. There would be no clever words nor crooked smile to strong-arm his way out of justice yet due. His men were down for the count and one man stood alone against the tides of Obeah's fury. The Veiled Goddess had spoken through Her Prophet, and Grandmistress Yxevarii had answered the call.
"Do not make this difficult, Astros. You once spoke of heretics and traitors - of seeing justice dealt by virtue of Obeah's word and want. Do your words justice and come peacefully. Drop your weapons - all of them - and live to fight another day. Submit and you shall earn a fair trial by Obean law beneath Her Eye..."
The skies grew darker with every word; a sole avenue of light cast from the roost of Grand Templar Vahanian and Grandmistress Yxevarii on high, waning gradually as it breached the closing shield-wall and all but died upon the back of Astros Renodin. One could scarcely see beyond the shattered doorframe; as if the frothing mass of warriors and their prey had been transported to a realm beyond the ken of mortal Man. The charged air grew tangible as stormy daggers rained from the heavens and the wind begat a howl of inhuman timbre. While the Templar wall stood impervious in their focus upon common enemy, the more exposed rangers began to shiver by the might of sudden storm through the shrieking banshee's wail.
"There's still a chance for you, Astros! The Goddess has a plan for you... By order of the Inquisition, the Prophet of the Veiled Goddess, and all that is holy, lay down your arms and surrender!"
Not for a moment did a single man loosen his bowstring nor grow lax in nocked grip - for shivering fingers and storm-soaked eyes are wont to miss one's target. For those in the furthest and highest reaches, where the firmament cried with the fury of a living Goddess, it became a show of faith beyond any hope of application. Nonetheless, enough eyes could see and arrows might fly that the end result would stand to reckon: one man, and one alone, stood poised to die upon this day. If such a fate he chose... The Enlightened would thus oblige.
"...Refuse and you will die a thousand deaths before another breath is drawn!"
A new moon cast no light as the final rays of sunset waned. Darkness fell upon the land as a thousand men held their breath as one.
Roleplay from Yxevarii Auru'in
Shenanigans of the Faithful : Earlier that day
When Priestess Kiki arrived in front of Grand Templar Vahanian's post, she and her servants were denied access - as she had no scheduled meeting planned nor viable reason to interrupt him. She seemed furious in being reminded that she was not a member of the military chain of command and thus subject to the same rules as other nobles. She refused to speak to the guards of her own volition, and instead whispered to her servant a series of ill-thought commands. The servant thus stepped foward and spoke:
"Who are you to question the plans of great and beautiful lady of Melegra! For daring to speak to her without kneeling before her is a sin. She is the Lady Herald of Obeah. Loyal servant of Oracle and person with great magical gift. Unless you want all personnel in this camp excommuni..."
Kiki snapped at young servant before she is able to finish her last sentance. The servant kneeled and begged for forgiveness before retreating behind Kiki. Through cold eyes she glared at the nearest guard and spoke to him in a mock-gentle voice:
"It is not wise to send priesthood away, now go tell your commander that I am waiting to meet with him at first chance. Even I have my patience and it would be a shame if Oracle heard how odd Grand Templar is acting, holding normal tavern besieged, not letting even nobles enter it."
The guard was clearly unphased by her demands. It didn't help that she spoke like a negligent mother attempting to lecture an unsightly child she had failed to properly raise. The cloaked guard began to draw her sword to prove a point, but was assaulted by the ear-rending bitching of the lady's servant.
"You would dare to draw sword against Obeah's priestess and against the sister of a ruler? Even your commander can't save you and your family if you do that!"
Kiki's voice changed from the patronizing timbre of a wayward mother to one even more authoritarian:
"Now move pig, even someone as beautiful and graceful as I do not have whole day to wait until you move your little dirty legs!"
Her voice and eyes were now in sync. They truly showed that she cared nothing more than about herself.
---
Grandmistress Yxevarii was not impressed. She had heard rumors of the Priestess' narcissism but witnessing it was a whole 'nother beast. With arms crossed and black-hooded cloak obscuring her features, she was indistinguishable from any other guard; exactly as she preferred. She could walk right into the tavern and sit beside Astros with none the wiser - or dawdle about the war-camp and eavesdrop on snippets of intrigue from those whose tongues wagged longer than their sense of reason. All the better to know what goes on in one's realm. Yxevarii was not one for gilded thrones and blaring trumpets: she would rule with an open palm and iron fist, leading from the frontlines and working the camps like any other. No fancy badge of office would keep her from digging trenches and tending the wounded beside her countrymen: though a ruler has much excuse to delegate, it is in a nation's interest for said ruler to walk among the masses and know the true face of its people. Unfortunately, one such face was that of Priestess Kiki Raven - and with the draw of a single blade her placid mask had crumbled to pieces before the Grandmistresses' very eyes.
"You might want to consult with Prophet Rania about these claims of yours... And as your Grandmistress, I WOULD DAMN-WELL DARE! You speak of pigs yet your palace bears no mirror yet unbroken. You dare dishonor the name of Obeah for the sake of ego yet you let slip the mask of humility at the slightest prod... You have no right nor power over the military chain-of-command, Priestess Raven, especially not through a pitiful servant you've brainwashed into parroting your fanciful self-worship. Should I order the Inquisition investigate all prior excommunications you have authorized, or are your threats as vacant as your stare? The only thing graceful about you is in how swiftly you sully the sanctity of the Heralds. You are an embarrassment to the holy vestments you so casually dishonor. The next time you DARE address such vile words toward men and women of the faith who are doing their jobs - something you should consider trying, mind you - there will be HELL TO PAY. Now collect what's left of your mask of righteousness and go make yourself useful elsewhere. The Grand Templar has better things to do than suffer the likes of you."
-
Roleplay from Yxevarii Auru'in
(OOC: cut off, Pt 2)
Shenanigans of the Faithful : Earlier that day
"Now move pig, even someone as beautiful and graceful as I do not have whole day to wait until you move your little dirty legs!"
Her voice and eyes were now in sync. They truly showed that she cared nothing more than about herself.
---
Grandmistress Yxevarii was not impressed. She had heard rumors of the Priestess' narcissism but witnessing it was a whole 'nother beast. With arms crossed and black-hooded cloak obscuring her features, she was indistinguishable from any other guard; exactly as she preferred. She could walk right into the tavern and sit beside Astros with none the wiser - or dawdle about the war-camp and eavesdrop on snippets of intrigue from those whose tongues wagged longer than their sense of reason. All the better to know what goes on in one's realm. Yxevarii was not one for gilded thrones and blaring trumpets: she would rule with an open palm and iron fist, leading from the frontlines and working the camps like any other. No fancy badge of office would keep her from digging trenches and tending the wounded beside her countrymen: though a ruler has much excuse to delegate, it is in a nation's interest for said ruler to walk among the masses and know the true face of its people. Unfortunately, one such face was that of Priestess Kiki Raven - and with the draw of a single blade her placid mask had crumbled to pieces before the Grandmistresses' very eyes.
"You might want to consult with Prophet Rania about these claims of yours... And as your Grandmistress, I WOULD DAMN-WELL DARE! You speak of pigs yet your palace bears no mirror yet unbroken. You dare dishonor the name of Obeah for the sake of ego yet you let slip the mask of humility at the slightest prod... You have no right nor power over the military chain-of-command, Priestess Raven, especially not through a pitiful servant you've brainwashed into parroting your fanciful self-worship. Should I order the Inquisition investigate all prior excommunications you have authorized, or are your threats as vacant as your stare? The only thing graceful about you is in how swiftly you sully the sanctity of the Heralds. You are an embarrassment to the holy vestments you so casually dishonor. The next time you DARE address such vile words toward men and women of the faith who are doing their jobs - something you should consider trying, mind you - there will be HELL TO PAY. Now collect what's left of your mask of righteousness and go make yourself useful elsewhere. The Grand Templar has better things to do than suffer the likes of you."
...And with that, Grandmistress Yxevarii's borrowed cloak drops to the ground as she casually walks off into the sunset toward the Grand Templar's office, nodding to the nearby guards without acknowledging the massive grin on many of their faces.
Roleplay from Yxevarii Auru'in
Still chafed after witnessing Priestess Raven's rude and borderline heretical behavior, the Grandmistress made a point of not attending her impromptu feast. Still, a missive is a missive - and with that she pens a quick response to Raven's invite.
"Priestess Raven,
Unfortunately, I cannot attend your feast. Myself, and numerous other nobles, have pressing matters to attend to. The responsibilities of the faithful are many. There are days and times best reserved for a proper feast. - neither of which happen to fall upon this day.
Please do not discard any leftovers from your feast - there are hundreds of faithful soldiers and servants who could use a proper meal to supplement their field rations. It would be both wise and benevolent to show the people of Obia'syela how the Heralds tend to both body and spirit of the faithful.
You'll make more friends and get more done showing kindness than with empty threats and angry intent. Such behavior is unbecoming of a priestess.
Obeah is watching,
-
The fun has only just begun...
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Hey there, here you'll find how I've tried to bring the story-lines together and weave a coherent tale of the recent RP's I've posted here. Astros's dive into the surreal and a pinch of outer body experience. It all comes back to the scene at hand, the stand off and hopefully, it'll be a good read. Enjoy.
Astros and Reality
His words hung in the air. Like great, feathered freaks. Not quite akin to eagles and certainly darker than the pitch bats navigate through when they fly out of their places sable, deep into the night. The air was thick like crystalline resin. Hardened and unyielding in its grip of all that the eye beheld.
''What is this?!'' The initial surge of hate fuelled adrenaline started to fade. He swooned where he stood. ''Explain this!'' He demanded as spittle flew from his mouth.
~Astros
From a place inside the very balls of his eyes, Astros looked at the world. What was before him. The world did not move. Was he trapped outside his body or was he struck on the head. That had happened before and this reminded him of it. He couldn’t move his hands, they didn’t respond to his will. All he could do was look. His words uttered.
Down the street there was a stirring. Something moved at the edges of his vision. Move head! Move! He thought, he all but screamed the words at himself in the mute silence of his skull. His head didn’t move.
Vahanian rode up to the tavern where Astros was drugged. He had destroyed the doorframe with his sword and was stumbling about in front of the building. 100 of Vahanian's heavily armed men circled the building and covered all of the exits. All of them prepared to murder every last soldier under Astros's command.
Vahanian dismounted and approached the Grandmistress, he bowed his head and said to her "My apologies for being late Grandmistress, my men have reinforced the perimeter and are at your disposal. The command is yours to give"
Vahanain hoped that he would not have to engage in direct combat with Astros, he was still a bit weak from his stay in prison, and he hand't had the time to eat today so he was feeling a bit unsteady.
~Vahanian
His body tingled. Especially his fingers. Like a thousand, thousand little needles. They prodded him back into the world. Colours melted into one another. The uniforms of the newly arrived solders blended with the backdrop. Making their faces akin to hovering masks. What in the Nine Hells! What is happening to me!? Astros knew panic and it took on the colour of bright orange. Grim looking Templars streamed over the street in front of the tavern and took up position. Their smirks and chuckles, imagined or real sounded inflated. Like coming from a bursting corpse. Orange puss spewing from their parted lips as they did. Astros shivered. He trembled at the sight. The Drugs had hold over him yet. Beads of sweat gathered on his scalp and as they coalesced too big, they ran down the side of his face and fell whenever they failed to find further purchase.
Jessica arrived to a scene of full chaos. The Grand Templar's heavy infantry had posted up all around the tavern, blocking the streets. The soldiers, seeing her, allowed her to pass, but blocked Bryant's path.
She stopped next to Astros and looked at him. If he was aware of her presence, he made no sign of it. She ran a finger along his bald scalp, slick with sweat. She frowned to herself as she examined him. Was he drugged? Poisoned? She shrugged. Impossible to tell at this point. Would have to let him sleep and see if he wakes up or not.
Slowly, purposefully, she paced around the hulk of a man, studying him. She stopped on the other side of him and turned to look back across the lane.
It seemed to Jessica that they had themselves a Gotlandian Standoff, only they didn't have any goats...
~Jessica
A great, red lance ascended from the canopy of his inner conciseness. Formed out of nothing and seemingly endless in its size. It touched Astros atop of his head with a violent scene that only his inner eye could see. An explosion of mental soil where the immense lance struck the fabric of his being. Yet instead of shattering him utterly, it transformed almost instantly into an anchor. It offered to grip the rough ocean floor that was reality that which he, so sorely lacked at the moment.
Sensing his way through this horror-scape of blending reality and colours, smudged with orange sprinkled chaos, Astros clawed his way back into the world of the living and out of the maze called insanity.
She looked at the hulking form of Astros. She wanted to yell at him, to break his stupor, but that was a physical impossibility.
So Jessica slapped him hard on the face.
~Jessica
Cresting the peak of that inner separation Astros saw a blinding light. It bathed him completely and he felt small and insignificant in its radiance. It was healing and it was consuming. Like a fire that fed and sustained at the very same time. With the thunder of a thousand storms it crashed out of existence. More cracks appeared than than there were stars in the night-sky. In an instant it was gone. Pain awoke him. Pain brought the dream to an end. Pain shattered the realm in which he had been and pulled him back into reality.
Astros blinked for the first time in a very, long time. Distant, muddled voices rushed through his mind. Conversations he had been privy to in body but had been absent with in mind. They came back to him. He turned his head to the left and saw a fair haired woman. Beautiful and catlike in her stance. He saw no fear in her. His mind quickly informed him how she had positioned herself next to him. An ally. The concept grew in his mind and a small grin played, dangerously upon his lips.
Seeing how Vahanian’s men had created a second perimeter Astros instinctively clasped the handle of his greatsword with his right hand. It rested slackly against the ground from the palm of his hand, pointing towards the ground. Hungry eyes beheld Vahanian. ‘’Grand.. Templar..’’ The words laced with a bestial promise. Growled as much as spoken. Astros felt his muscles respond to his will once more. Slowly at first but he felt stronger with every passing moment. A fine and remorselessly cold drizzle began to fall from the sky. As time stretched, so too did the droplets grew in size.
"There's still a chance for you, Astros! The Goddess has a plan for you... By order of the Inquisition, the Prophet of the Veiled Goddess, and all that is holy, lay down your arms and surrender!"
Not for a moment did a single man loosen his bowstring nor grow lax in nocked grip - for shivering fingers and storm-soaked eyes are wont to miss one's target. For those in the furthest and highest reaches, where the firmament cried with the fury of a living Goddess, it became a show of faith beyond any hope of application. Nonetheless, enough eyes could see and arrows might fly that the end result would stand to reckon: one man, and one alone, stood poised to die upon this day. If such a fate he chose... The Enlightened would thus oblige.
"...Refuse and you will die a thousand deaths before another breath is drawn!"
~Yxevarii
The Grandmistress herself called out to him. The beautiful lady still stood next to him. She hadn’t said a word. Didn’t she look familiar? Astros thought to himself. Lady Jessica. A serpentine voice whispered to him from the recesses of his mind. ‘’Lady Jessica.’’ He said it like an Alpha would to a venerated pack member. He breathed in the scent of her before focussing back on the Grandmistress. I had asked her a question, hadn’t I? Astros looked quizzical for a moment. His big head tilted from left to right. Never blinking during the gesture.
He slowly opened his mouth. He tasted the spiked ale he had drank before. The vehicle for his drugging. Stopping halfway into forming an opening line, he collected the spit in his mouth and along with the foul remnants of the ale, he spat it out on the street. Raising his eyelids, he looked directly at the Grandmistress. ‘’Explain this!’’ His free hand gestured at all the warriors in the street. Motioned at the bowmen and then at the additional men Vahanian had brought.
Behind them, Astros and Jessica, deep inside the tavern, the noises of a hushed struggle seeped out into the street. The corner of Astros’ mouth curved upwards in smug victory. The tavern door moved out of its own volition or so it seemed. Astros heard the voice of one of his trusted men. The man had the presence of mind not to breach the portal of the tavern itself and left the door shut, or what was left of it. Astros tensed and the man knew to retreat back inside the building.
Deliberately taking a moment to turn to Jessica he all but breathed. ‘’The Mistress’ perimeter isn’t that secure anymore.’’ He wondered how the little woman had managed to send him so many pieces of gold. The missive that had informed him of the wealth was snug in his breast pocket. There wasn’t much time to deliberate and he pushed the thought aside. Turning back to the Grandmistress and the brewing storm he prepared himself for what was to come.
‘’I am an agent of the Inquisition and a loyal servant of the Veiled Goddess!’’ He raised his bald head up high. ‘’Dare deny it! Any of you!’’ Issuing the challenge made him feel good. ‘’The Inquisition isn’t you, Yxevarii. You are not the Grand Inquisitor and I am a servant in the mold of Goriad II. You are a steward and you cannot claim my arrest! There is but one that can judge me and she had guided me all the way!’’ He waited a moment and then took a moment more. ‘’Upon a mighty, Mighty Fine Path!’’ His iconic, broad and toothy grin appeared amid the darkening clouds.
‘’Vahanian! Where are you hiding?! Behind some of those tiny men perhaps?’’ He motioned at the shivering templar warriors under Vahanian’s command. ‘’Guess a mouse can hide behind a horde of rats. Well!? Where are you, you lapdog!’’ Annoyance streamed into his voice as Astros actually failed to spot Vahanian.
‘’I should have been Regent! Not this bookworm!’’ Astros pointed a semi hooked finger at Yxevarii. ‘’A third of the Realm voted for me! Nobles not commoners. Titles are for the Templars and see how the Templars scurry to Yxevarii!’’ Rainwater splashed of his scalp as Astros looked around, gauging the impact of his words. ‘’She’ll protect their shiny titles and keep their purses lined with silver!’’ He made a questioning face as he looked at the warriors arrayed. ‘’Is -that- the will of the Veiled Goddess?! Is that what you’re fighting for?! Say no if you want but you know. You Know it’s true!’’
With a continuous stream of droplets cascading of his well shaven and angular chin Astros turned his attention once more to Yxevarii. ‘’You.’’ The white of his eyes took on an ivory sheen. ‘’You would arrest me? Whimper back into your spire you little thing. Only strong with an army to hide behind. Even now you are weak! Go back to your books! You have no place here!’’ Astros raised his upper lip in a mean looking snarl. ‘’I don’t recall you -ever- bringing a heretic to justice.’’
During his speech Astros noticed a strange figure standing among the crowd of onlookers. A strangely imposing figure that seemed to be at peace. Utterly at peace. Like the bounds of time no longer held him. Gyrthul was that individual but Astros did not know his name.
‘’What will it be Grandmistress?’’ Astros knew he couldn’t fight his way out of this one. His men, however many or few that term included, seemed to have mastered the tavern commons at least. That was one option but a dangerous one. One he did not favour for the odds were stacked so heavily against him. As the sky had darkened with clouds and rain descended upon the earth. He waited on her response. It would mark his destiny and forever edge the shape of his life into the fabric of fate.
-
Last time I created a less than good character he died in a duel to the death.
Le sigh. Good times.
Outstanding collection of RP's. I never fail to love (or love to hate) your characters!
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Hey there! welcome back. Note! strong language in this one. Some gore but only in the second RP posted.
Written and full credit to the player of Vahanian Blint
Vahanian was reading over the reports of Avengmil and Ardmore, and the latest orders that had been issued. A dispatch arrived with Astros' unnecessary repeat of his own orders and Vahanian shook his head..
"Never a dull moment.." He sighed. As his men prepared to move out a mischievous idea hatched in his mind. He drafted a note quickly and hailed the messenger Astros had sent alongside his repeat of Vahanian's orders. He handed the note to the messenger and said "It is vitally important Vice-Marshal Astros receive this as soon as possible. Let nothing deter you."
The man nodded and sped off to deliver the note. Baldwin raised an eyebrow in question and Vahanian said "It is a note to Astros telling him that it is vitally important he see to the safety and management of the Marshal Seal." Baldwin nodded his head as if he should have known and then paused.
"Sire, what is the Marshal Seal?" Vahanian chuckled and said "Doesn't exist, I just made it up cause it sounded fancy and important. I think it'd be funny to see him running around trying to figure out what to do.."
Baldwin shook his head and Vahanian said "What is life, if you can't have a little fun?.."
Its good to let you know that shortly after the above message, Vahanian, General of the Realm, ordered to cancel the move into Ardmore, a rogue region we were supposed to attack. Astros was the Vice Marshal and reinforced the earlier order to actually move out.
!Strong language warning!
The Marshal's Seal
Panting and with grime streaming off his armor Astros heaved and sucked in great lungs full of air. Some of his men ran from the field. His eyes bulging as he realized it. ''OI! You sons of ..'' Air eluded him. An angry, mailed hand reached out but managed just as much as the words that preceded it. ''Get back 'ere!'' Astros stumbled a few steps in their general direction. ''Bastards..!'' He slumped and fell over sideways into a shallow puddle of mud.
The strange sensation of warmth seeped through his armor. Revulsion sped across his face as his eyes informed him the puddle wasn't filled with water. Rather it was the seepage of a trio of corpses that had bestowed upon it the contents of their gut and being. ''!@#$ me!'' Astros lamented as he got himself up on his feet again. ''Sir!'' A fresh voice called out to him. Full of surprise Astros looked up. Words not even coming to his mouth. ''The Grand Templar sends word.'' Before he could respond the messenger stuck out a rolled up scroll as far as he could. Even trained manners couldn't prevent the messenger from wrinkling his nose.
Wonder and alarm rang the bells that existed in his mind as Astros took the scroll, broke the waxen seal with his fingers and read what its letters had to offer. Halfway through his eyes lured him away from the text and informed him that yet more men were running away. ''You cockless whoresons! Get back here or I'll use your spines as manikins!'' With wind restored to his lungs he managed to send the words far across the battlefield. The men froze and lingered, the best result possible perhaps. ''Don't just stand there! Get the wounded! Now!'' Not caring if they did or not, Astros turned his attention back to the scroll. ''Marshal's seal..?'' A deep furrow created a veritable canyon on his forehead. ''Marshal's Seal?!'' Anger brewed. ''What the flying !@#$-storm is a Marshal's Seal!'' Sensing a soldier near him. ''You!'' the warrior paralyzed. ''What is the Marshal's Seal!?'' The man's eyes glazed over before he stammered something unintelligibly. Astros rolled his eyes and then punched him in the face. Knocking the man off his feet and onto the trio of corpses that sighed out even more bodily fluids upon impact.
The rest of the day was spend figuring out what the bloody hell a Marshal's Seal was. That and trying to find his men again. The battle had been won but at great cost.
-
Hey again. Another Rp and a follow up on the wound Astros got. Bit mean, bit off the beaten path. It has violence in it, be aware.
Seeing the Medicus
The hawk nosed, slender man pursed his lips. Being bend over the prone from of Astros he had tended to the huge man's physical needs. Which were considerable as the undead had literally gnawed on his flesh. ''Hmmm yes..'' Medical instruments of dubious nature prodded the large man. ''Does this still hurt?'' Flesh was stretched to its extreme. ''Yes! Damn it! You goat headed Imbecile! ''Astros howled. The gaunt faced medicus licked his lips. ''Interesting.''
''I'll show you something Interesting. Just wait till these straps are gone from me!'' Being a cautious man the medicus had ordered his assistants to tie Astros down to the bed. Belts of leather kept him firmly in place as he preformed his work upon the ill tempered beast of a man. ''Any day now. It's looking, rather, good.'' A silver poker jabbed at one of the myriad wounds. Earning little else than murderous looks from Astros.
Sensing that one of the straps was loose. Fortune became liquid and mixed potently with Euphoria. ''Free!'' The sinister cry erupted from his lips. With considerable effort Astros broke free from the confines of leather. His mighty right hand rose high and reached for the Medicus' throat. Iron-like finger squeezing the supply of air shut. ''Does this hurt?!'' Not waiting for an answer that would never come his other hand grabbed a random piece of medical apparatus. Violence seeped into his eyes as fear flourished in that of the medicus's. ''Pain?!'' A wide and wicked grin appeared on Astros's face. Plunging again and again, that medical instrument in the medicus's side, until he no longer felt the resistance offered by skin.
Dropping the lifeless form of the smaller man to the floor Astros left the room. Splattered with droplets of blood and his left arm a crimson spectacle of slaughter.
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Alright, some smaller Rp's that I really should have posted before. Enjoy them though!
After recruiting more men for his Unit:
Astros cackled as he saw the men gathered before him. Each selected for their big physiques and their ability with equally big weaponry. He cared not for their track record, criminal or otherwise. ''They'll do fine, Mighty fine!'' He roared a laugh and the men before him weren't sure how to respond. Like a crowd of children gathered before an adult. The sense of their malignancy so compared to that of their newfound leader.
Getting ordered Around
Finishing his drink in the Onyx Dog Tavern Astros nearly spat out the mouthful he had intended to swallow. ''Pigface! Hairy assed Pigface!'' With a mighty thump the crude wooden tankard slammed into the table. White foaming beer splashing up and outwards, covering its surface in its golden liquid in seconds. What fell next onto the table wasn't drinkable at all. Rather it dipped itself into the frothy brew and sailed upon it like a great ball of a ship.
Getting up on his feet with a lot of unnecessary noise Astros kicked the bench he had been sitting on. His heavy boot knocking the thing over and causing nearby patrons to look up with annoyance. ''What!'' A mighty vein defiantly swelled up in his neck. ''Give me a reason! A Mighty Fine! Reason!'' Spittle accompanied the words and brazenly, formidable and ivory teeth came on full display. Gloved hands balled into anvil hammers and adopted a posture that screamed violence.
Coming to the rescue was Astros's captain. A man that seemed a dwarf next to the towering maniac. ''Come away Sir. Remember what was said!'' A giant blue eye beheld the captain as Astros paused in his actions. The white receded as the eyelid returned over the fierce blue orb. The captain's hand was angrily shrugged off. The man had placed it instinctively on Astros's shoulder and was glad to have it returned to safety. Guiding his master out of the tavern some of the patrons looked at the crumpled up letter that remained on the table. One of them, an old scribe with a saggy beard pinched his eyes near shut as he attempted to make sense of the letters visible. ''V.. Vahan..ian Blint..Grand Templar.'' He muttered. The rest was indecipherable from his seat. Neither did he have much time as one of the brutes in the big man's employ snatched it up and tucked it into his shirt before following his master out.
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hey there! While I've written a fair few more RP's I've not actually uploaded them here. Shame on me, I know. Same is true for Aldrakar to be fair. Anyhow. The following RP I wrote because there were 78K undead attacking our 10k defenses. Enjoy!
The Second Undead Army
The first battle had been rough. The men of the Mark had done as the Marshal had commanded. They were happy to stay behind the walls and gleefully swat down any of the undead horrors that tried to scale them. The large two handed weapons proved a boon then. Mauls, halberds and great big axes and swords all hacked and cleaved the unliving until they simply couldn't move to try again.
The second battle was worse. As far as the eye could see in the dawn's early light. First the shadows and spectres of the trickster grey known as the false dawn but then truly, the hordes were revealed. Unending were their ranks and bony feet crushed all life beneath them. Leaving only a trail of dew infused mud in their wake. Sightless eyes beheld them as they advanced on the walls of Avengmil. The very wooden walls that were shredded in many places during the first battle. Mounts of corpses had created veritable ramps against them, ready to be scaled by the new-coming dead. Fires burned bright as the bubbling, decrepit juices sputtered from many gaping wounds. The Templars had been busy trying to set ablaze as many of the rotting dead as possible. Their number was legion and their flickering, smouldering remains cast the word in an aura of fickle bronze that warred with the all enveloping silver that was the true dawn breaking through the spell of mist that had descended onto the earth.
Behind them and right below the walls Astros could hear them, were the makeshift healer tents. Where the wounded awaited dying. Townspeople had broken their nightly rest in an attempt to offer comfort to those that had protected them. A last straw before merciful release. Much to the surprise of the hulking, bald man, over forty of his men reported for duty that morn. Many of which displayed fresh bandages or sear marks where wounds had been hastily cauterized. He couldn't see them but their collective body heat was unmistakable in the early day chill. As were their noises. They grunted, cleared their noses and weren't able to keep their weapons still. They saw what Astros could not and it struck fear into their hearts. The kind that destroys hope. Defying fate not a day before and emerging victorious, today they were greeted by what seemed twice what they faced yesterday. The big, bull necked head of their commander turned around. His milky spheres gazing at the men while his mouth was unmoving. ''Sire..'' A gruff voice proffered. ''We can't see an end to them.'' The warrior touched the scruff that existed on his chin. ''Undead, as far as the eye can see, in every direction.'' With that the man turned his eyes back to his compatriots of the Mark. Astros merely turned his head back again and faced the oncoming hordes. A single drop of perspiration running down his scalp the only visible response.
The twang of bows sang their chorus. The order had been given. Marshal Boltgan albeit wounded attended the defence and his orders had been like the day before. Man the walls, to the last. In truth Astros had thought the man a fool and had made his own plans for when the walls would've eventually been overrun. A dastardly escape that never was required. Today perhaps, it would be different.
Akin to horizontal tears falling from the wooden clouds of men the arrows ripped into the ranks of the unliving. The dead marched on uncaring. The spitting steel of the archers mere decoration that added a little encumbrance at best. As the hordes drew closer and their numbers truly defied imagination the voices of brave captains rose among the masses. ''Hold firm!'' ''Remember, the Veil is with us!'' ''Under her Gaze!'' ''Stand together and you'll live!'' It annoyed Astros. They were lying, all of them. Well, maybe not -all- of them but most of them. ''Boys.'' His men looked at him. ''Cut them down. Every, single, rotting, one of them.'' With that he drew his own black handled greatsword. Took a step forwards as to gain a vantage point atop of the walls and steadied himself as the wind teased his balance. The words he had spoken steeled his men somewhat. They knew that their master was a formidable force onto himself but they could see what he could not.
The first of the walkers scampered up the mounts of their fallen. Like a legion of ants they abused one another yet found efficiency in their singular purpose. Arrows were now shot at will and at random. Brave men and women leaning in, letting loose their deadly shot and popping back behind the battlements. ''Look!'' One of Astros's warriors exclaimed as he pointed at one of the burning ramps of corpses. Some of the undead had pushed it and in doing so the mount sagged against the wooden walls like a gutted sack of potatoes spilling its contents. Embers danced and flames licked the precious barrier between the living and the dead. Morale took a hit right there but then a truly horrible spectacle revealed itself. Those very same undead clambered up the ramp made of their burning fallen. Their bodies igniting and busting into flame as the volatile oils and juices of their body caught flame. Creating flaming undead warriors whose skin peeled back with the excruciating heat, making their faces stand taut in awful grins as they hacked at the defenders with their ancient weapons.
There was no time to react for Astros for his ears and the other men surrounding him informed him of more pressing danger. The dead had reached his part of the wall and they were nearly upon them. Grasping bony hands dug into the splintering wood of the walls, teeth sought purchase and men began their desperate defence. Sensing rather than seeing, Astros knew he was in danger. Fear rushing through his body like a thousand, thousand mice running from a flood. His lungs filled and with all his might he roared in defiance. Raising high his inhumanely huge sword and began his reaping. Rending flesh unliving and crushing bone with every blow. If the undead sounded otherworldly the howls and roars of Astros could make one believe the daimons had already begun their next invasion.
Men fell and died. Some gloriously yet many more were not so lucky. Grabbed by the ankle by a seeking and sneaky undead hand. Pulled off balance and tumbled to their death. A speck that vanished in the masses of undead that awaited the human drops like a churning sea at storm. It was there that Vahanian the Grand Templar shone his brightest. Dagger and sword in hand the man knew no dance but the dance of death. Final death in the delivery of his every stroke. Manic rage fuelled Astros and all around him came to ruin but what his eyes could not see was found by Vahanian whom darted in and out of reach as he dispatched the crawling threat to Astros that would've likely felled the huge man. A quick trust of his sword saw the corpse shutter and expire its unnatural life.
Moments stretched to minutes and quickly became hours. When Astros could hear no more voices sprung from the throats of men he again felt that tingle of fear at the base of his spine. His rage subsided as he strained to hear. Nothing. Only the crackling of fleshless bones. It drew close and he struck it with his mighty blade, covering himself in fresh specks of bonedust and dried up skin. He turned his big head left and right. Again, nothing greeted him that hinted at life. He could only hear more bones bumping into other bones. It sounded as if that was on the walls. A sickly crash deafened the soundscape. Parts of the wall had caved in under the combined weight of far too many bodies, unliving and dead. The fire had done its part and consumed copious amounts of the timber defences. Flee! An inner voice sang to him.
A willing follower, Astros turned around and tried to recall the path off the walls and towards safety. Wherever that might still be. Hacking, struggling and slamming his armored body through the throng of enemies he made it. Somehow he did and Astros of House Renodin survived. His tongue free to taste the air of life and his legs tired beyond reason but it mattered not. He lived! Not a wound marked his body but not a man in his company survived unscathed or at all.
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Oi. I miss you, ya crazy bastard. Come back!