bloonewb

Magic RP (Open to new players)

The smoke stuck close to his heels for a few seconds, then suddenly stopped. Rughoi pulled on his worg's hair, slowing it to a halt. A few agonizing seconds of relative silence followed, the din of the swords sounding so far away. Then, a hand shot out of the darkness and wrapped its long, thin fingers around Rughoi's neck. The mount under him barked in surprise, then ran off, leaving its master to die. Rughoi pried at the fingers with one hand, while the other went for the sword at his side. With a deft pull, he released the blade from the scabbard, taking the hand at the wrist. He scrambled out of the now lifeless fingers, already blackening from unnatural rot. Quickly, he replaced the large shield on his back, moving it to his off hand. The smoke parted then, revealing Merat in his horrific form, arms and legs in a tangled mess as he himself fought an entire company of dracons. Most of his heads were locked in a deafening roar, but one turned itself on its neck, far past the normal bounds of a neck, and peered with a withered eye at Rughoi's comparably tiny frame. A jolt of fear, far stronger than the others, ran through his back, stretching up his spine like Hetuis itself has nested in his tail. His arms began to tremble, and the sword, once a confident symbol of protection, now felt too light, too weak. It shook in his hands, as if it too wished to escape from his grasp. Slowly, he forced his legs to move. He blocked out any and every sensory input he could, focusing just on his feet and the ground. One advance, two . . . he could not go further. He was stuck there, frozen by Merat's evil spells tearing at his mind.

"Rughoi," boomed a voice, roaring in his head. "Surrender. I am Son of the Dragon." He could not respond. Neither tongue nor mind would dare move. Fool! While he dawdled, dracons are crushed under the many feet of Merat with nary a second thought! He raised his shield and glared back at the eye. He was Son of the Dragon! The dragon does not negotiate with lesser creatures! This spurned him forward another one, two steps, to meet Merat's new arms. Flesh hung loosely on these new additions to his body, peeling away at various points. Under that was nothing but bone. Bracing himself, Rughoi met the first, which struck his shield with a clang. The next Rughoi took the initiative, and brought his sword up, leaving a stump. Despite this, however, Merat didn't seem inconvenienced in the slightest.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

Didact hasn't come on for over three days now. Should we be concerned?

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

William cursed and went for his sword. This was not part of the plan! Not what he knew of it, anyway. To be fair, when they were going over the fine details, he was halfway drunk. Mead, admittedly, was a siren that called far louder than any woman. More often, though, Visenya had a nasty habit of keeping him in the dark about everything. She thought her pranks were funny, like when they "ran away" from the Red Keep, and she goaded him into a bear cave she "checked" and "found empty". Neither of them were hurt, but they ran right back, not stopping till the outer walls were behind their backs. Perhaps the drink had stayed with him longer than he thought, because his fingers couldn't quite grasp themselves around the handle. Little time to think when all around was a bloody melee, and a particularly ugly fellow was barreling toward one, shouting curses. William backpedaled a few paces and ducked under the first slash. It glanced off the wall behind him. A second quickly followed, coming straight downwards. William groaned, and gave up on drawing the sword, instead pulling the entire scabbard with it to block the next strike.

"Hol' thar an' let me cut ya!" shouted the pirate, bringing down the blade yet again.

"Shut up. It's bad enough having to look at your face," William spat, jumping left and thrusting with the sword, scabbard and all. It felt a little top heavy, but the added weight meant that striking the chest would hurt more. The pirate stumbled back, letting the scabbard slide off on its own. "Here we go . . ." muttered William, returning previous courtesies with a slash of his own. If he was drunk, the pirate was drunker, and his arm didn't twitch upwards to block the edge until after it ran through his torso. William grimaced. He may have to have a few unkind words with Visenya when all this is done.
___________________________
"Oi! On yer feet!" shouted the warden, taking a pailful of sea spray and dumping it unceremoniously on his prisoner's head. The pitiful figure on the ground sat up, coughing up salt. "Funneh tale, tha Big Boss wants ta see ya. Says somethin' 'bout youse knights would know somethin' 'bout hittin' castles hard."

"Good fellow, I keep saying thus, yet you ignore me at every turn. I have not been kni-"

"Yeh, yeh, not knighted. Whateveh. Boss wants ta see ya, Boss is gonna see ya. Now get up." He bent down and hauled the little prisoner up to his feet. Then, the distant sound of shouting and crossing swords made its way to the depths of the dungeon. The warden cursed, and drew his curved blade. "Stays here. We's gonna cuts yer knight friends up," he barked, and ran off to reinforce his employer on the surface.

Arak stood there, not sure of what happened, until the blood rushed to his head. He had an odd policy of elevation strictly enforced upon him during the past few . . . hours? Days? Point is, if he stood up, he would get beat with a stick. He quickly learned to act otherwise. Now that he was standing, the blood rushed to his head in painful beats, and his legs threatened to give way under him. He leaned on the wall, and tried to think dry thoughts. To appear with vomit on him when rescued by knights would be unseemly. He, with the aid of the walls, stumbled out of the cell and began making his way, step after painful step, towards those blessed stairs of escape.

"Hey! Backs ta yer cell!" shouted a voice behind him. Arak turned, groaning, to find a large man, armed with a thick staff, striding towards him.

"No, you don't underst-" He began, but the pirate began pushing him inexorably back, shouting curses and threats.

"I doesn't care! Backs ta yer-" That was as far as he got before he learned the hard way the few advantages of being short. Arak's foot had made its way from the ground to the delicate portions between the larger man's legs. He keeled over, and was out. Arak quickly took the staff, turned his head away, and brought it down on his skull until there was nothing left but red mush. He knew from hard experience that concussed foes never stayed down upwards of a minute. Now taking the bloody staff, he hobbled up the steps. The knights upstairs need to be assisted!

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

@MrDidact I can probably do the William scene alone, but I need a partner to handle the Cathay scene.

The Thieves Guild

Appearance: Shi is one of the unlucky few struck with dwarfism, and in his adulthood has been at most 4'8". However, almost as a sort of compensation, he is pudgy and very wide, often giving him the appearance of a ball. He is often found dressed either in the yellow robes of an imperial governor when dealing with other thieves, or the brown clothing of the peasantry when not working.
Age: 35
Name: Liu Shi
Nickname/Alias: N/A
Gender: Male

Personality: Shi is polite, first and foremost. He sees the use of imperfect titling as a personal sin. He is a man of lies upon lies, often even fibbing about non-important information just to practice for when it really counts. He expects the same out of all the thieves he meets, and insists on proof whenever possible, even for seemingly trivial matters.
Biography: There was a time, in a far off land, when Shi was a real stand-up guy. He stayed long hours in school and the library, poring over books of politics, dreaming of a glamorous career in the imperial court. His wish was granted when his hard work paid off, him just nudging out the bottom scorers in the merit test. However, he, coming from a less-than-wealthy family, didn't have many resources to study and didn't do so well that he could land the capital duties of his dreams. Instead, he was sent to the far corners, often having to govern barbarians or raiders. This is what led to him taking the bribe that fell him. He thought one might not hurt, but the emperor has spies everywhere, and Shi was immediately booted out of his place and exiled. Now, he hopes Luthias is far enough away from the emperor's steely gaze and the disappointment he would face from his family should he ever return.

Skills: Administration, philosophical debating, speeches, appraisal
Equipment: Money. Loads of it.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

The Rughid cavalry leapt out of the hills, the roars of the soldiers matching those of the mounts and the enemies ahead. The Meratids were caught between the kobold worg archers and the dracon formation. Merat must have recognized this, because immediately they began to scatter, some horrors running away from the fighting, a very few leaping at their foes with renewed vigor. Rughoi was not about to let any of them escape. He, in his blind rage, broke off from his support, and charged directly at Merat before he could rejoin the bulk of his forces. However, the closer Rughoi got, the more the doubts began to seep yet again into his head. Surely, he wouldn't be able to take a monstrosity like that himself. He focused, blocking out the thoughts. His arm moved without volition of his conscious mind, and let loose an arrow that sailed through the air and struck Merat in an arm. It didn't seem to do much damage, but it did force Merat to notice him. The fears came back in a torrent, and Rughoi knew then just how big a mistake he made. Merat made an unreadable expression with one of his heads, and opened his mouths. Black smoke billowed out from them, and Rughoi knew on a base animal level that nothing good would come of it. He spurned his worg, though it didn't need much encouraging, and began running. The smoke followed no more than two paces behind him. Rughoi shot another arrow, but it sailed high and missed.

Merat picked himself up and began chasing after his little nuisance, but allowed him to get a bit of a head start first. He knew that Rughoi, even on the back of a larger animal, could not stay ahead him for long. Instead, he opened his mind, feeling at all the dracon mages in the crowd. He offered them a deal he doubted they would refuse. Every one of them got a simple message. Truce. Destroy the Rughids. The Meratids return to their home, and leave Traeton for the dracons.

The Thieves Guild

Appearance: Shi is one of the unlucky few struck with dwarfism, and in his adulthood has been at most 4'8". However, almost as a sort of compensation, he is pudgy and very wide, often giving him the appearance of a ball. He is often found dressed either in the yellow robes of an imperial governor when dealing with other thieves, or the brown clothing of the peasantry when not working.
Age: 35
Name: Liu Shi
Nickname/Alias: N/A
Gender: Male

Personality: Shi is polite, first and foremost. He sees the use of imperfect titling as a personal sin. He is a man of lies upon lies, often even fibbing about non-important information just to practice for when it really counts. He expects the same out of all the thieves he meets, and insists on proof whenever possible, even for seemingly trivial matters.
Biography: There was a time, in a far off land, when Shi was a real stand-up guy. He stayed long hours in school and the library, poring over books of politics, dreaming of a glamorous career in the imperial court. His wish was granted when his hard work paid off, him just nudging out the bottom scorers in the merit test. However, he, coming from a less-than-wealthy family, didn't have many resources to study and didn't do so well that he could land the capital duties of his dreams. Instead, he was sent to the far corners, often having to govern barbarians or raiders. This is what led to him taking the bribe that fell him. He thought one might not hurt, but the emperor has spies everywhere, and Shi was immediately booted out of his place and exiled. Now, he hopes Luthias is far enough away from the emperor's steely gaze and the disappointment he would face from his family should he ever return.

Skills: Administration, philosophical debating, speeches, appraisal
Equipment: Money. Loads of it.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

YES! I created that pad! My work is now IMMORTAL! Muahahahahahahahahaha . . .

This will somehow link to world domination.

The Thieves Guild

Still some room left for one more?

Magic RP (Open to new players)

The kobolds, from their position, could only watch as the dracons threw themselves against the Meratids again and again, with disastrous effects for both sides. However, worse was to come. From the fog emerged Merat himself, once a diminutive kobold, now a giant to rival a tower. His very presence forced a tug of hate on Rughoi's soul, and he gripped the reins on his worg harder than he should have. He could see that his army was beginning to lose vigilance, and then they shattered with Merat's roar. Many broke, and ran for the city. Some forced themselves on their knees or began walking towards the Meratids with reverence in their eyes. Even Rughoi himself couldn't stop this magically induced doubt from filling his mind. Is he truly in the right? Does he deserve to be Son of Dragons? He shook the thoughts from his head. This was merely another corruption. He edged his worg forwards. "I cannot sit back and wait for the battle to finish itself," he huffed, drawing his bow.

Rughoi then assembled his worg-riders, choosing from them who he felt had the strongest will. He explained to them his plan to emerge victorious against two armies, both stronger than his. This was one of Sutam's tactics. The ancient Son of Dragons had known that most general's minds were limited to the battlefield, but Sutam thought further. He had famously led an army across the continent and back again just to surprise his enemies with a flank. Rughoi didn't have to go so far. By skirting along the hills, he could evade the stones and the enemy seeing them, and while the Imperial Arm constantly rained arrows down on both opponents, he could strike at Merat himself. "The strength of kobolds!" he shouted, kicking his worg into a charge. "The strength of the Empire!"

____________________________________

Ardasa watched solemnly from the city walls, at the clouds and fog beyond. Occasionally, a spark of fire escaped the grey prison around, a harsh reminder of the risks of battle.

"I still cannot believe my son is to be wed," Krakas murmured from her left.

"Neither can I," Ardasa said with a laugh. Neither of them spoke of what he was doing down there. Eventually, Krakas's hand snaked into Ardasa's.

"A daughter-by-law," she said. "I hope it could be true."