The bow man continued to hold his throat as his blood flowed between his fingers, before he finally slumped over in death. The dagger man saw him go down and quickly swiped an arrow from him, holding it like a second dagger before coming at him again, ducking low and attempting to flick his shield up and break his defence.
CadenGallic
Member
Pepsiman's apprentice, Pepsimaxman.
STATUS: If your ears are burning, it means someone is talking about you. Usually they're saying "He's on fire." 8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
- Posts: 801 (0.24 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- CadenGallic 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
If your ears are burning, it means someone is talking about you. Usually they're saying "He's on fire."
8
likes
8 yrs ago
Notice: I'll be going away from the 9th to the 19th, I might still be able to update at least partially, but I can't confirm this, so expect me to be absent.
8 yrs ago
This land is littered with lunatics and killers, they smile like crocodiles while they beat you like gorillas.
4
likes
Bio
Name's Caden Gallic, been going by that name for a good few years now.
Long time RPer, maker of ideas and characters and stuff, love creating in general.
I like vidya games. Movies and stuff. Books and manga.
Um... I like cheese?
That's all I can think of.
Long time RPer, maker of ideas and characters and stuff, love creating in general.
I like vidya games. Movies and stuff. Books and manga.
Um... I like cheese?
That's all I can think of.
Most Recent Posts
The students were led over a winding path over the campus, headed toward a cliff edge. When they arrived, they found a drop headed straight down. The edge of the cliff winding around into the distance, fotming a natural bowl shape in the earth. Small rounded metal platforms had been erected, jutting out of the cliff face as the students began to stand on one each abd prepare what ever weaponry they brought, one young lad drawing a strange crossbow weapon, another taking out a pair of large hand fans and another a large looking shotgun. Even the girl in the yellow raincoat took out what looked like an umbrella. Looking down the cliff, they could see a strange grey cloud obscuring the sight of whatever laid below them.
"This." Spoke up Trendle, having moved to the cliff edge with miss Lariet. "Is your entrance exam. Below you, lies the gauntlet, a nature based obstacle course designed to test your skills in various situations. The Gauntlet is made up of different biomes, featuring natural hazards you may face in everyday hunting. It is also teeming with Grimm, hiding in the various locations." Trendle strode up the line as he spoke, glancing between the students.
"Your test, students, is to get through this obstacle course as fast as you can. The shining star will mark your exit. You may work with others or hinder others, all that matters is your individual time and performance. The rest of the faculty will be standing by to assess your performances. We will be assessing you based on speed, combat, navigation and style." He seemed to finish his speech, clearing his throat noisily.
"This." Spoke up Trendle, having moved to the cliff edge with miss Lariet. "Is your entrance exam. Below you, lies the gauntlet, a nature based obstacle course designed to test your skills in various situations. The Gauntlet is made up of different biomes, featuring natural hazards you may face in everyday hunting. It is also teeming with Grimm, hiding in the various locations." Trendle strode up the line as he spoke, glancing between the students.
"Your test, students, is to get through this obstacle course as fast as you can. The shining star will mark your exit. You may work with others or hinder others, all that matters is your individual time and performance. The rest of the faculty will be standing by to assess your performances. We will be assessing you based on speed, combat, navigation and style." He seemed to finish his speech, clearing his throat noisily.
The axe was a weighty weapon, not made for throwing. As such, the dagger bandit simply got smacked in the face by the handle, causing him to stagger. The bowman was not as fortunate, his throat beginning to bleed as he sank to his knees and grasped at the open wound. The dagger wielded recovered and swiftly leapt at Eldarin, dagger raised to strike at his stomach.
@ghastlyInc
Nope, just a GM being too lenient :3
Nope, just a GM being too lenient :3
@ghastlyInc
Still waiting on you, boi.
Still waiting on you, boi.
@MrDidact
Oh, I didn't know they were going to the plane, I'll go edit.
Oh, I didn't know they were going to the plane, I'll go edit.
Sorry that was a bit jumpy, been out all day.
Work it off... Just get back to work and ignore it.
That had been how Wilbur had majoritively gotten through his life. It went right back to his days as a weak, insecure teenager, picked on for where his academic skills instead of being born cool. Just find s mindless task to keep your hands busy and the bad feelings would get bored and go away. Once upon a time, it was a winning strategy for the worst of situations... But not this time.
The strategy worked for mild feelings of oppression and humiliation. Not grief.
Even now as he sat in his hotel room, underneath the mechanical mostrocity he had built, he could still hear his voice, see that stupid upbeat snail of his and hear his quips about how his bald head could reflect light... God it felt abysmal without him. Leaving an old, depressed man with only his own thoughts for company was not a good thing. He'd be lucky if his own thoughts didn't eat him from within like some horrible alien creature... Huh. A reference. How quaint, he thought...
He still remembered the scene so vividly. When the smoke rose from the fires, bodies littered the streets and rubble had piled up, amidst all of that, he'd spotted the familiar light patch of brown. He'd set his shell into overdrive, using mechanical claws to dig into at least half a buildings worth of rubble. And beneath it all, there he was. Battered, bruised, broken, breathless. No smile, no jokes, just the uncontested cold hard fact of death. It'd set his heart to stone.
He'd stormed out of the Champions without regret, alongside Red Jack and the ragtag crew that felt the same way....what a sad joke it all was. Turning their backs on the strongest members of their group to form some pathetic pocket of resistance...
Still, no regrets.
If Nagoya taught him anything, it was how dangerous they truly were. The images of that blasted dragon burning the streets or that cosmic child destroying a man where he stood. the buildings falling and the people screaming... They needed boundaries. Individuals as powerful as them needed personal responsibility, guidelines to follow and punishments when they went too far, something the champions didn't grasp... But he did. And with this splinter group, that was what he hoped to achieve.
His thoughts were broken by the news report... Did he leave the TV on? Tinhead Ned... now there was a name Wilbur despised. Wilbur was a mechanic, Ned was a crazed engineer with a sad lust for power. And if he was out there, it meant trouble. Even in the wake of this incident, his inner sense of justice tugged at his soul, urging him to get out there and start searching... and, it seemed he wasn't alone, getting Red Jacks message. Depression be damned, it was time to go to work.
He released himself from his work and set his shell on auto pilot to get it home faster. It would just fly straight to the location needed and trying to get it through customs would be harrowing. He slipped on a brown jacket and slipped a flat cap over his head before he headed down to the lobby to get a taxi. His thoughts followed his footsteps.
That had been how Wilbur had majoritively gotten through his life. It went right back to his days as a weak, insecure teenager, picked on for where his academic skills instead of being born cool. Just find s mindless task to keep your hands busy and the bad feelings would get bored and go away. Once upon a time, it was a winning strategy for the worst of situations... But not this time.
The strategy worked for mild feelings of oppression and humiliation. Not grief.
Even now as he sat in his hotel room, underneath the mechanical mostrocity he had built, he could still hear his voice, see that stupid upbeat snail of his and hear his quips about how his bald head could reflect light... God it felt abysmal without him. Leaving an old, depressed man with only his own thoughts for company was not a good thing. He'd be lucky if his own thoughts didn't eat him from within like some horrible alien creature... Huh. A reference. How quaint, he thought...
He still remembered the scene so vividly. When the smoke rose from the fires, bodies littered the streets and rubble had piled up, amidst all of that, he'd spotted the familiar light patch of brown. He'd set his shell into overdrive, using mechanical claws to dig into at least half a buildings worth of rubble. And beneath it all, there he was. Battered, bruised, broken, breathless. No smile, no jokes, just the uncontested cold hard fact of death. It'd set his heart to stone.
He'd stormed out of the Champions without regret, alongside Red Jack and the ragtag crew that felt the same way....what a sad joke it all was. Turning their backs on the strongest members of their group to form some pathetic pocket of resistance...
Still, no regrets.
If Nagoya taught him anything, it was how dangerous they truly were. The images of that blasted dragon burning the streets or that cosmic child destroying a man where he stood. the buildings falling and the people screaming... They needed boundaries. Individuals as powerful as them needed personal responsibility, guidelines to follow and punishments when they went too far, something the champions didn't grasp... But he did. And with this splinter group, that was what he hoped to achieve.
His thoughts were broken by the news report... Did he leave the TV on? Tinhead Ned... now there was a name Wilbur despised. Wilbur was a mechanic, Ned was a crazed engineer with a sad lust for power. And if he was out there, it meant trouble. Even in the wake of this incident, his inner sense of justice tugged at his soul, urging him to get out there and start searching... and, it seemed he wasn't alone, getting Red Jacks message. Depression be damned, it was time to go to work.
He released himself from his work and set his shell on auto pilot to get it home faster. It would just fly straight to the location needed and trying to get it through customs would be harrowing. He slipped on a brown jacket and slipped a flat cap over his head before he headed down to the lobby to get a taxi. His thoughts followed his footsteps.
"The hell are y-" the axe man managed to say before a nasty sharp blade interrupted further speech and instead made him die near instantly with a perfect strike on his vitals. Seeing their comerade, and possibly leader, downed so quickly set the other two into a panic as they fumbled for their weapons before the light blinded them both, making them dazed.
Good call.
I'm gonna be gone for a while btw, might still be able to post, might not.
I'm gonna be gone for a while btw, might still be able to post, might not.
© 2007-2024