Even a mithril blade was too mundane to do as much against these demons as it might against mortal foes, but still, they were cut, ichor splattering over her. The cuts sort of oozed back in place a little, but not completely sealed, more ichor flowing from its injuries. They lunged out at her with melting-hands. There wasn't much force behind the blows themselves, but the ooze stung and burnt - not right through the flesh, but as if she'd been splashed with scalding hot water that had been boiling for some time. But she was able to keep the creatures from hitting her most of the time - even if they had her three to one, they were half her size and slow and sluggish.
Even as she fought though, more of the creatures were roaming all over the town, attacking dogs and cats and birds and people, screams starting to spread farther. The robed man with the leeringdemon face tattoo, like with his fellow, had a set target in mind. Adeles Illiea.
In the Helm, the armored intruder had drawn his sword - and on his command, the weapon had burst into flame - with each two handed swing Doruk barely managed to block, taking step after step back, the flames drew closer and closer.
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Alkeni Synair
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- Alkeni Synair 11 yrs ago
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Being Sick - 0/10 would not recommend.
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To never die and conquer all - that is winning.
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8 yrs ago
I am back. Word to the wise, never buy an HP Chromebook. It never ends well.
8 yrs ago
I have a new computer and am dealing with some RL related stuff with it (transfering important files, etc), so I will probably not be able to get any roleplaying done this weekend.
8 yrs ago
Being wrong Isn't a Democracy!
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Brovo said
The Keystone XL Pipeline is a logical step economically and environmentally. The only people opposing it are extremely and grossly ignorant of the benefits this will have for all parties involved.End of story.
Because the only reason anyone would ever disagree with you is because they're ignorant? That's bullshit whatever the topic.
(Not to say I'm not quite uniformed as to the various pros and cons of the Keystone XL Pipeline. I'm am quite uniformed. But ignorance is never the only reason to oppose a policy proposal, and making the claim that it is is not only poor argument technique but also misleading and counterproductive.)
What the blubbering oozing demons I describe approximately look like, give or take. Its easier to pirate a known picture than spend an extra hundred words trying to capture its appearance.
On the outskirts of the village, something far from cold was gathering.
Three human-shaped beings stood, one robed and hooded, any vision of their face and body obscured by the robe and hood. Even their feet. From a distance, it almost seemed they were hovering above the ground by a few inches. The robes were blood red.
Before him knelt two others. One, a pale-skinned man, glowing red eyes and curling rams horns coming out from the sides of his head. Across his back was a massive two handed sword, the blade covered in runes of some fiendish language or another. Next to him knelt the other, this one seeming just human, wearing robes of blood red cloth, though this one's face was not covered by a hood. His features were cruel and hard, tattoos covering his face, making it look more like the leering face of some horrid humanoid beast than that of a normal human being. He seemed to bear no weapon, though his hands too were not covered by the robes.
"You understand what is expected of you?" The hooded one said to those kneeling before him. "Nothing must stand in the way of retrieving our lord's prize. The one with the blood of Gleaves must be captured. You will ensure that the only threats do not threaten. Kill them if you can, but you cannot - "
"Our lives belong to Saeropaenes." The two kneeling individuals intoned.
"As does all else." The hooded man agreed. "Now go, and join me at the estate if you succeed." The hooded man vanished.
Surrounding the two kneeling med - who soon stood - were two dozen squealing, oozing blubbering masses. Weak demons, barely worthy of attention. But more than enough to wreak proper destruction in a town such as this. Even the weakest of demons had a toughness unnatural to this world, ordinary weapons less effective, spells far more likely to just fizzle out to no effect.
And so it was this, the man with the sword, a black breastplate serving as his armor, approached the tavern, six of the blubbering oozing demons following behind - they did not so much walk as ooze and lurch and slide. It was this that Ikina could see, from her position outside Logar's Helm. In needlessly dramatic fashion, the armored man kicked in the door of the tavern.
Ikina hear Doruk speak. "Can I help you?" From his tone, she could guess that even as he said that, Doruk was retrieving his axe from beneath the bar - and then the sliming, blubbering oozes followed the armored man into the tavern, and the screaming began, as people started to scramble away from the door, the sound of tables overturning.
Penderghast was under attack.
Three human-shaped beings stood, one robed and hooded, any vision of their face and body obscured by the robe and hood. Even their feet. From a distance, it almost seemed they were hovering above the ground by a few inches. The robes were blood red.
Before him knelt two others. One, a pale-skinned man, glowing red eyes and curling rams horns coming out from the sides of his head. Across his back was a massive two handed sword, the blade covered in runes of some fiendish language or another. Next to him knelt the other, this one seeming just human, wearing robes of blood red cloth, though this one's face was not covered by a hood. His features were cruel and hard, tattoos covering his face, making it look more like the leering face of some horrid humanoid beast than that of a normal human being. He seemed to bear no weapon, though his hands too were not covered by the robes.
"You understand what is expected of you?" The hooded one said to those kneeling before him. "Nothing must stand in the way of retrieving our lord's prize. The one with the blood of Gleaves must be captured. You will ensure that the only threats do not threaten. Kill them if you can, but you cannot - "
"Our lives belong to Saeropaenes." The two kneeling individuals intoned.
"As does all else." The hooded man agreed. "Now go, and join me at the estate if you succeed." The hooded man vanished.
Surrounding the two kneeling med - who soon stood - were two dozen squealing, oozing blubbering masses. Weak demons, barely worthy of attention. But more than enough to wreak proper destruction in a town such as this. Even the weakest of demons had a toughness unnatural to this world, ordinary weapons less effective, spells far more likely to just fizzle out to no effect.
And so it was this, the man with the sword, a black breastplate serving as his armor, approached the tavern, six of the blubbering oozing demons following behind - they did not so much walk as ooze and lurch and slide. It was this that Ikina could see, from her position outside Logar's Helm. In needlessly dramatic fashion, the armored man kicked in the door of the tavern.
Ikina hear Doruk speak. "Can I help you?" From his tone, she could guess that even as he said that, Doruk was retrieving his axe from beneath the bar - and then the sliming, blubbering oozes followed the armored man into the tavern, and the screaming began, as people started to scramble away from the door, the sound of tables overturning.
Penderghast was under attack.
If it ain't broke, Break it - Meatloaf.
I couldn't give a crap about the real implications of it, in the interests of full disclosure. :P
Its not going to be lowering gas prices by a noticeable amount, and I really don't care about the environment so long as I can breath the air and drink the water.
I just don't want it to happen because Republicans and the Tea Party have turned it into a banner issue.
#whyyesI'mstupidlypartisanattimes #Idon'tcarethough
Its not going to be lowering gas prices by a noticeable amount, and I really don't care about the environment so long as I can breath the air and drink the water.
I just don't want it to happen because Republicans and the Tea Party have turned it into a banner issue.
#whyyesI'mstupidlypartisanattimes #Idon'tcarethough
Even for a fairly expansive definition of normal, as someone with Asperger's syndrome, I don't qualify.
I also don't care that I'm not.
I also don't care that I'm not.
The Mood in the Logar's Helm tavern was quite jolly. The Harvest was nearly halfway done for the season, and it seemed likely that this would be a good year indeed. According to Old Man Sturges, they already had more than enough to pay what the tax man wanted twenty times over, and the tax collectors weren't due to come down the river from Fort Rakarion for another month anyway. Life looked good for Penderghast for the time being. which was always a reason to celebrate.
Winters down here weren't that bad, either. Though it did get cold, very rarely did snow fall on the ground - not this far from the mountains anyway. So not only were things looking good, they were likely to stay good when Winter eventually came in a few months.
The Helm was packed with customers, mostly farmers and other town residents drinking or talking, or gambling. Doruk was behind the bar as ever, pouring ale into mugs and passing them off to the two waitresses who worked there, pretty young women named Ellana and Tori. Despite his missing arm, he was well practiced in moving quickly enough to meet the demand of his thirsty customers, as were his waitresses.
One one table, a dozen men played a dice and card game, cheering and groaning as they won and lost copper pieces back and forth. There were a few other smaller groups playing similar betting games.
It was a perfect picture of a small rural town, content with itself and its lot, looking forward to times of plenty in the months ahead.
Gardad Norcidik, was, as one might expect of a dwarf, deep in his cups, though given his almost legendary (In Penderghast anyway) capacity for ale, there was no reason to suspect he wasn't as sharp as always. In a sleepy rural village like Penderghast, he had little to do as Constable and watch captain, and most of his work in that respect was in breaking up the occasional rowdiness in the bar, or dragging out people who had drunk too much to walk home without collapsing. When there was a real bar fight - which happened every now and then - Doruk got involved as well, and his one arm packed quite the punch. Usually though, all he needed to do to restore order in a real brawl was brandish the battleaxe he kept under the bar, an enchanted weapon from his adventuring days.
"So I'm heading to Denna's hut, out in the woods, and I see this Stag right?" one Villager drunkenly retells some story or another, though so to do others to other groups. The mildly rowdy, but happy and content air of the tavern speaks of a village happy, productive and safe.
Winters down here weren't that bad, either. Though it did get cold, very rarely did snow fall on the ground - not this far from the mountains anyway. So not only were things looking good, they were likely to stay good when Winter eventually came in a few months.
The Helm was packed with customers, mostly farmers and other town residents drinking or talking, or gambling. Doruk was behind the bar as ever, pouring ale into mugs and passing them off to the two waitresses who worked there, pretty young women named Ellana and Tori. Despite his missing arm, he was well practiced in moving quickly enough to meet the demand of his thirsty customers, as were his waitresses.
One one table, a dozen men played a dice and card game, cheering and groaning as they won and lost copper pieces back and forth. There were a few other smaller groups playing similar betting games.
It was a perfect picture of a small rural town, content with itself and its lot, looking forward to times of plenty in the months ahead.
Gardad Norcidik, was, as one might expect of a dwarf, deep in his cups, though given his almost legendary (In Penderghast anyway) capacity for ale, there was no reason to suspect he wasn't as sharp as always. In a sleepy rural village like Penderghast, he had little to do as Constable and watch captain, and most of his work in that respect was in breaking up the occasional rowdiness in the bar, or dragging out people who had drunk too much to walk home without collapsing. When there was a real bar fight - which happened every now and then - Doruk got involved as well, and his one arm packed quite the punch. Usually though, all he needed to do to restore order in a real brawl was brandish the battleaxe he kept under the bar, an enchanted weapon from his adventuring days.
"So I'm heading to Denna's hut, out in the woods, and I see this Stag right?" one Villager drunkenly retells some story or another, though so to do others to other groups. The mildly rowdy, but happy and content air of the tavern speaks of a village happy, productive and safe.
Penderghast: Small village on the shores of the small Lake Pender (which is part of the Gorran River)
Medios: Large wealthy city-state at the confluence of the Dragonfall River and the East Dragonfall River. Rules a swath of land including Penderghast and its neighbors. Ruled by Count Tyros del'Askander and the Council of Notables.
Fort Rakarion: Up the Gorran river from Penderghast quite some distance. A military and administrative center for Medios. Taxes from Penderghast are run through there.
Medios: Large wealthy city-state at the confluence of the Dragonfall River and the East Dragonfall River. Rules a swath of land including Penderghast and its neighbors. Ruled by Count Tyros del'Askander and the Council of Notables.
Fort Rakarion: Up the Gorran river from Penderghast quite some distance. A military and administrative center for Medios. Taxes from Penderghast are run through there.
A few names to know ahead of time, and I'll drop more in the rp (and I'll provide a running Dramatis Personae in this PM convo, as distinct from the IC one). You can also feel free to create 'NPCs' as it were, where fitting.
Old Man Sturges: Mayor of Penderghast, by virtue of no one else wanting the job and the fact that he's had it for decades. (Human) His official duties are fairly limited, but occasionally mediates small disputes. Widely respected.
Gardad Norcidik: Constable, watch captain, smith, head of the villiage militia (every able bodied person, on the very rare occasions its needed) (Dwarf)
Denna Ivlessi: An Elf druid living out in the nearby forest. Has a tense relationship with the villiage, but serves as a herb woman/etc and purchases supplies in village.
Doruk One-Arm: Former adventurer, retired. Missing an arm. Bartender and Owner of Logar's Helm. Half-orc.
Adeles Illiea: Retired adventurer, originally from Penderghast. Doruk was of her party. Human.
Sister Agata: Tiefling, Prietess of Tyria (Harvest and Fertility Goddess).
Gimble Noblenockle: Tinker and Owner of the small general store in the villiage. Also a carpenter. Gnome.
Old Man Sturges: Mayor of Penderghast, by virtue of no one else wanting the job and the fact that he's had it for decades. (Human) His official duties are fairly limited, but occasionally mediates small disputes. Widely respected.
Gardad Norcidik: Constable, watch captain, smith, head of the villiage militia (every able bodied person, on the very rare occasions its needed) (Dwarf)
Denna Ivlessi: An Elf druid living out in the nearby forest. Has a tense relationship with the villiage, but serves as a herb woman/etc and purchases supplies in village.
Doruk One-Arm: Former adventurer, retired. Missing an arm. Bartender and Owner of Logar's Helm. Half-orc.
Adeles Illiea: Retired adventurer, originally from Penderghast. Doruk was of her party. Human.
Sister Agata: Tiefling, Prietess of Tyria (Harvest and Fertility Goddess).
Gimble Noblenockle: Tinker and Owner of the small general store in the villiage. Also a carpenter. Gnome.
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