Arsenal

Kirra's Weekly Discussion: NPCs

I never really put much thought into NPCs; usually I operated under the "name/nameless" rules for NPCs. In general, if any given NPC is referred to by a name, as in "Bob" rather than just "the waiter", then that NPC is at least important enough to give priority (but not necessarily absolute) control to whoever introduced that NPC, or the GM in charge of the RP, whichever is best for the situation. Conversely, if somebody introduces an NPC without giving them a name, then that NPC is probably unimportant enough that everyone involved in the RP can dictate their actions and reactions moderately freely.

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

All right, I'm back; anyway, I'm curious, are we supposed to be sorta controlling Pollie as a group, or were we supposed to let TJ control it? I've been kinda tiptoeing around the issue until now.

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

Hey, sorry to disappear again but I won't be available to post until Monday. I will be able to read what's going on until then though.

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

So, would you say it's kinda like a giant ape, but with longer back legs and claws?

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

Despite the turn of circumstances for the worst, Serkan remained remarkably unshaken and composed. He kept his focus on the monsters, sword at the ready. The undead he had previously rammed with his shoulder was looking for another opening to attack, but this time, Serkan was going to take the offensive. Stepping forwards, Serkan swung the blade, channeling magic up through the weapon; those with sharp eyes may have noticed a faint ripple left in the wake of the blade while it was swung, but otherwise nothing else seemed out of the ordinary for the sword. The blade made a shrill, whistling screech when the vorpal edge parted through the air.

Seeing the incoming strike, the skeletal warrior shifted to the side, raising its shield in a falsely held belief that it would protect from the swing. A muffled, metallic thud rang through the courtyard, and the undead knight stepped back in surprise; its shield had split in half, a perfectly smooth, razor-thin divide marking where Serkan's magic-enhanced sword had cut through. The knight's arm was worse off, its bony arm had been split lengthwise from hand to elbow, the split and damaged fingers clutching languidly at what once was a whole shield.

Serkan very quickly followed up the slash with a quick strike with his sword at the creature's elbow, though this time without the aid of magic, saving it should he need it later. Even without the enchantment coursing through the weapon, the slash was more than enough of a blow to completely sever the creature's already damaged arm, which clattered to the ground in two halves. The creature roared loudly, attempting to lift its sword to retaliate, but missing an arm it was apparent the undead was having some difficulty keeping its balance and stance. As the monstrosity awkwardly stumbled in an attempt to swing, Serkan sidestepped to place himself behind the knight, thrusting the blade up and into the neck of the creature between its helmet and the collar of its armor.

With a final motion, Serkan pulled the blade sideways, and the undead soldier's helmet tumbled to the ground, its now headless body slumping over after. Serkan rolled the blade through the air, flicking it with his wrist to shake free some of the detritus sticking to the surface of the weapon. As more of the living dead began to approach, Serkan readied himself his eyes scanning from side to side. It was then that a wall of fire erupted in front of him, giving him a moment to step back and gather himself. The mage responsible for the firewall appeared very displeased for some reason or another with Dasmira, with Dasmira giving an unusually specific accusation in response.

"We will have time to settle this later, stop bickering," Serkan only raised his voice just enough to be heard over the crackle and roar of the burning ring of grass. Serkan flinched at an unbearably loud, metallic scraping noise, looking through the wall of fire as it started to die down. The creatures had started to back off, something utterly massive in comparison to the fetid walking corpses they had been fighting emerged, soemthing unlike any living thing Serkan had seen in his travels. Serkan didn't know what the roaring, cyclopian terror might have been; looking to it he wondered if the being was merely some large, dumb animal, or if the beast was a being of malevolence, who acted with intent and purpose.

The half-elf moved to stand beside Dasmira and Athinar, lowering his weapon to only hold it in a loose, casual grip while he observed, but then the cyclopian monster started to move, picking up speed very quickly, every large, heavy footfall bringing it that much closer to them. Serkan separated from Athinar and Dasmira to move to their left, watching to see if the hairy cyclops was going to follow him, but it had already looked to mark Dasmira as its target. He let out an annoyed grunt, cursing the fact that the monster had chosen to attack, of all people, the one among them who had moments ago claimed to be dead weight. Even so, they were in this together, and he wasn't about to stand by and do nothing.

At this point it was too late for Serkan to double back and return to offer support; the beast would get to Dasmira before he could get within striking range, but there was still one more trick Serkan could rely on. Serkan dug his heel into the ground, bracing himself and rolling the sword over his palm to flip the weapon into a reversed grip. He charged magic into the blade and took careful aim; a second later he slashed the blade horizontally. Once more the blade let out a melodious whistling as it cut through the air, throwing out a cutting wave from the tip. The sharp, cutting wave, visible as a thin, rippling distortion in the air, sailed through the air towards the one-eyed gargantuan.

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

Serkan only momentarily looked at the bones of the fallen warrior that had lied in the grass at his feet. He sighed and stepped around the grass, though for a while he kept a more careful watch on where he let his foot land. He saw Dasmira had begun to wander around, almost like she was looking for something lost in the high grass. He admitted her behavior was odd, but he wasn't wary of her and failed to notice Dasmira pocketing something every so often. Instead, he was looking ahead at Aveline, whose attention had fallen on the now-burning mage that had melted his way into the keep.

Serkan trudged through the grass towards her, leaning on a nearby pile of rocks. Aveline made a passing comment about how she didn't plan on waiting for the mage to try melting through the door. When she left, though, Serkan looked for a while longer at the Athinar; an odd thought crept into his head, the door the mage was attempting to melt did not seem to be giving, either the door was ridiculously thick, or something else was keeping it from being breached. Still, it didn't feel right to leave the mage or Arkadi there alone; Serkan called back to Aveline, "Right, you go on ahead. I'll see if I can't get those two to give up on that door and come with us."

Serkan had still not been paying any attention to Dasmira up until this point, at least, that was until he heard her suddenly whimper, expressing fear. At first, Serkan felt the urge to tell Dasmira off, to tell her if she wan't up to the task she should return to the keep. However, he looked down to the plain, cord wrap of his sword's handle, of the memento left to him by his former master. After a moment of thought about what his master would have said, he sighed, before looking to Dasmira, "If you're scared, then stay close to us. You may not know it, but we need your help as much as you need ours, okay?"

The half-elf lifted his helmet to reveal his face. He had realized that neither Dasmira nor himself had ever said their names during that long, mostly-quiet trek up towards the keep. He finally spoke, "By the way, I don't think I ever gave my name. I'm Serkan."

There was little chance for Dasmira to give any sort of response, as Serkan's long, pointed ears twitched at the sound of a hollow rattle. In the dead quiet of the courtyard, even the smallest of noises seemed to echo off the cracked, weathered walls of the keep. He hurriedly pulled his helmet back down, the latches clicking shut when he stepped back to witness an unearthly sight. Bones and pieces of armor started to float upwards, gathering to assemble into the figure of an undead knight. The racket of bones clanking against metal sounded all around them, as more of the creatures sprang to life.

Serkan turned to put his back towards Dasmira, dropping his bag of belongings and grasping the handle of his sword. The sword let out a metallic ringing as it was drawn from the sheath, the razor edge gleaming in the low, gray light that filtered through the gloomy cloudcover above. The nearest creature let out a low gurgling, clacking noise as its bony jaw trembled, hollow, dusty eye sockets fixed squarely upon Serkan. It was draped in plate armor that had become so rusted that in certain places the armor had completely corroded through, and clutched in its hands were a short, one-handed sword with a heavily chipped blade and a rounded shield with numerous dents marring its surface.

The creatures all seemed to be waiting, watching them for an opening, for the right opportunity to attack. That was when one of them let out a horrendous war-cry, a terrible, low growl of a roar that no human creature could ever make. The first monster to sound out a cry of war charged at Arkadi, but that was only the beginning. One of the other undead nearest Serkan also let loose an unworldly bellowing, a foul, screeching roar as it lunged forwards. Serkan quickly parried the sword blow to the side and shoved the monster with his shoulder to force it to step back. He shouted across the courtyard in an attempt to warn Arkadi of the incoming undead that had fixated upon him, "Hey! You there! Watch yourself!"

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

Well, give the RP time; the first few pages of any RP are slow, but if you get through that then the story starts to take off, as that's about when everyone's characters start to really interact.

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

Dropping by to say that my computer is having some issues and I won't be able to make any posts until at least Friday, maybe longer if I can't fix what I suspect is wrong.

Under Deep OOC (6 players only, first come first serve)

When it seemed all were in agreement, Serkan turned his back towards the group, making for the door. He had been in such a rush to get to the keep he'd nearly forgotten to give even the most basic courtesy of his name. The half-elf looked over his shoulders back at the others, "By the way, my name is Serkan."

Serkan dipped his head down, placing his helmet over his head, encasing it in a cage of gray-stained leather and coated, treated steel. He locked the clasps on his collar shut, securing the helmet in place, "Now, shall we start?"

As they approached the keep, Serkan looked ahead down the road, one clearly less travelled since so few had dared to travel so close to the keep. Nature had started to reclaim the roadway, grass growing in the middle of the dirt path; as they grew closer to the keep the pathway continued to grow thinner and more overgrown. The outer walls of the keep were in a similar state; time and weathering was slowly crumbling the wall, though it still stood upright and looked as though it would stand for at least a few more lifetimes.

"Hmm, looks like someone was in a hurry to get inside," Serkan suddenly spoke once they got close, walking towards the front gate, or more appropriately, the lack thereof. The gate clearly had been melted by someone in order to gain access. He knelt over a misshapen, wrought iron lump on the ground, placing his hand near it, "Still warm, whoever did this did it only minutes ago."

Serkan placed his left hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, tilting the sheath forwards so he would be able to draw the blade when the time called for it, if the time called for it. Venturing into the courtyard, the first thing that struck him was utter silence. The area withing the walls looked much the same as outside of the keep, everything that had been left exposed to the elements had been worn down by countless years of rain, wind, and sunshine. Untouched for uncountable years, it looked like plant life was encroaching upon everything that it could, wild grasses and weeds sprouted everywhere they could, even growing up from between cracks in the cobbled pavement.

Still, there was something missing; no wildlife dared to enter the keep's courtyard. The darkening, gray sky above even lied empty, devoid of even the tiniest of birds. The only movement within the courtyard came from the gentle sway of grass when an errant breeze managed to flow through cracks in the wall. Serkan stepped through a knee-high brush of grass, only to feel something hard under the heel of his boot, pulling his foot back he could see the sun-bleached bones of a human body, once a warrior from the look of his rusted armor and antiquated weapons, relics of a time perhaps when the keep had a less ominous air about it.

Serkan looked quietly to the others he had followed to the keep, he remained quiet, hoping to hear any observations of the grim, quiet courtyard they might have had.

Land of the Ancients: Return of Elderic

Yes, I guess it was just us three anyway. Hope to write again with you all.