Avatar of Crimson Paladin

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3 yrs ago
If you want to play both Fallout 3 and New Vegas, I'd recommend trying out A Tale of Two Wastelands.
3 likes
3 yrs ago
You're a rock star
3 yrs ago
Unless the problem is in the air.
1 like
4 yrs ago
If they at least have the decency to say that they're leaving instead of simply ghosting the RP, that's good enough to me.
7 likes

Bio

I originally got into forum roleplaying on the official Bethesda Game Studios Forums in 2007 or 2008. When the forums were replaced with Bethesda.net, I was one of several close-knit Fallout RPers who came here.

Most Recent Posts

Roger Falkner and Shortclaw


As they returned to the base camp, Roger spotted something at the top of an approaching tree. It took him a moment to realize that it was Valmyra, a Lamia member of the Lions. It made sense that her serpentine lower body made her a good climber.

As they passed her, she shouted a question, asking what those strange shapes in the disturbed ground were. The griffin rider couldn't blame her for wanting to know- after all, he had been curious about them, too. Unfortunately, she'd have to wait a few seconds for an answer while Shortclaw was making his landing.

Once his mount was firmly on the ground, Roger took off his helmet and turned the snake woman.

"They look like effigies or totems made of skulls and bones," he answered her question. "I have no idea what they mean, though. Maybe the others will know."

She was a curious sort. Her chimerical half-human-half snake body reminded him a little of the half-avian, half-leonine bodies of griffins. Roger knew little of her, other than that she was formerly with the patrol corps and that her primary weapon was a fine-looking spear. As a user of spears himself, Roger wondered if the lamia be willing to share weapon techniques some time.

Roger dismounted the griffin and began to walk back to the main camp where the Steel Princess would be found. Shortclaw followed closely behind, holding its head low. Roger knew that this behavior wasn't a sign of submission or subservience- griffins were, after all, very proud creatures. On the contrary, this was a sign that the beast wanted its partner to preen his head feathers.

"Later," he softly spoke to Shortclaw. Even if Velvetica planned to not give them any rest, he could always do it while they were on the move.

@AzureKnight
Captain Argus Fellborn


Upon having his hand stabbed, Argus instinctively reached for his pistol, ready for a fight. When she did not attempt to follow through with her blow, and instead held it to her lips, the vampire eased up slightly, but waited to see what her next move would be. The blow had been inconsequential, but if woman was going to start a scuffle, Argus was going to finish it. On the other hand, killing a knowledgeable person in such a broken world could be a great waste, and even if he held back, even a restrained physical rebuke might kill this frail-looking woman.

Fortunately, the witch seemed to only want to deduce his nature...and now she had a price for the information that the pirate sought.

"For a moment there, I thought you might...never mind," Argus replied, taking his hand off of his holstered gun. It was fortunate for the witch that Argus was not a particularly prideful vampire- back when he had thralls, he allowed and even encouraged them to voice when they disagreed with him- and that as a pirate captain, he had a certain appreciation for particularly foolhardy and audacious actions.

He considered asking about the previous two vampires she mentioned meeting, but if the blind maid was correct, the vampires would be in the village- the witch might be referring to them, or she might be referring to others. It might be worth asking about, although he suspected she might require additional blood for that information.

"I agree to your price," the vampire spoke, holding out his hand. If the witch provided a vial, he'd use his magic to run his blood into the container until it was filled. He found it a bit amusing that he had found himself returning to his pre-vampiric roots in supplying suspicious people with dangerous, forbidden substances.

@Rune_Alchemist


It had been a week since the encounter with the Unseelie tree. He had continued to think about the creature's bizarre death, how it sped its own demise by helping to crack itself open. What it had done- hypnotizing humans and devouring them- was monstrous, but the way it spoke, it made him wonder about Unseelie and their nature. He never really had given much thought to the disturbingly playful banter of the corrupted fey- after all, it was surely just a facet of their twisted, sadistic personalities- but the tree creature's dying words were something he didn't think that he'd ever hear from them.

Were the Unseelie inherently evil, bound to an innate compulsion to be cruel and sadistic by the Betrayed God's curse? Did the curse only twist their bodies to match minds that were already warped enough to slay him? Or was it a learned thing? After all, during their adventures in the woods, Luna had apparently come into contact with a non-hostile Fomorian, a far cry from the malevolent creatures at Redwater, or the wicked creature held prisoner in the castle.

Ethelred wasn't intent on faltering in his resolve, however. Whether they were misguided or rotten to the core by their very nature, the Unseelie were an ongoing threat to the good people of Albion. If anything, it was a bit of a relief to know that Fio had captured the fairy from earlier and stuck her in a jar, because it not only kept her out of trouble, it'd keep her from getting hurt as a consequence. From what he had asked, the fairy's powers were quite miniscule, and its intentions quite petty.

Assuming he had permission from Fio, Ethelred would visit the fairy a few times during the week. Any attempts to bargain with the fairy. He didn't believe her, but he was willing to move the jar in or out of the shade if she complained about it being too hot or cold, or if she merely wanted a slight change in scenery. His reply to her pleas would be assurance that he didn't want her to get hurt, and with the way that things were going in Albion, she'd be safer in the jar for the time being. Beyond that, the fairy was Fio's prisoner and her responsibility, so he wouldn't do anything else with the jar and its occupant.

Ethelred walked through the door to the strategy room, having been notified of the queen's summons. In addition to the matter of whatever matter Queen Sorcha had called them here for, he also needed to speak to Fio about the trinket that the Unseelie had given him. Whether it was a genuine gift, a useless trinket, or a tiny curse, he was eager to find out, and he had entrusted it to the Sword Witch to discern its nature.

Lugh, Elnith, and Luana had already arrived. Lugh smelled like tomatoes, a sign that Luana's remedy was still ongoing. It was good, and a little surprising, that the druid had stuck around. If she was willing to stick around for the long run, it could be a great boon so them.

Ethelred said nothing as he arrived. He would silently await Fio to arrive and inform him what she learned, and for the other knights to arrive so that the briefing could begin.

@VitaVitaAR@BrokenPromise@Rune_Alchemist
Roger Falkner and Shortclaw


There's is something strange about the ground down there.

From above, Roger could see splotches of terrain taking on a different color as they got closer to the bandits' hideout. They had been flying low to avoid detection, but it was still high enough to see a stark difference from the surrounding land.

It wasn't unusual to see land of different colors whenever they flew over farmland, but this was no freshly tilled field, ready for planting, and it was far too extensive to be the work of small burrowing animals. This was...well, he had no idea what it was. Even stranger, he glimpsed a few objects on the ground that looked a little like scarecrows. Surely the bandits couldn't actually be trying to work the land down there, especially in this rocky area, right?

It was a curious enough matter that Roger opted to take a closer look. He circled around, then signaled his mount to descend and land. The griffin slowed its flight and touched down on the suffiently large clearing of disturbed earth, bounding off the ground once before coming to a stop, causing Roger to bounce in his saddle. The first thing the rider did was take a few moments to glance around the area to ensure there was no trouble awaiting them.. He hadn't seen anyone when flying overhead, but it paid to be cautious. Shortclaw turned his head around as well, also on the lookout for trouble.

If he doesn't see anything, we should be clear. His eyes are keener than mine. As he looked around, he noticed one of the "scarecrows" he had thought he spotted.

That's no scarecrow, he thought to himself, uneasy at what he beheld. It was a crude, macabre effigy of some sort, crafted with bones and topped with a humanoid skull, creaking eerily as it rocked in the strong wind. Just what were these bandits doing out here, and why would they create such twisted totems? He already knew that these bandits were doing some strange and unsettling things, and the fact that they'd construct these things raised some questions as to just what they were up to.

In contrast to his increasingly uneasy rider, Shortclaw seemed completely unfazed and uninterested in the effigy, probably because there was no meat on the bones.

"Let's get back to the camp," Roger spoke, signaling the griffin to take flight. Shortclaw began to run forward and flap his wings, leapt into the air against the wind, and began gaining altitude. There wasn't much else to do here, so once they climbed above the treetops, Roger directed his mount back to the camp. He wasn't entirely sure what these strange effigies meant, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. Perhaps the Steel Princess or one of the Lions' more learned members, or one of the other scouts, would have a better idea.


"Very well, I'll trust that you understand this this better than I do," he spoke to Luana. "There's no sense in sticking around here any longer, it's best we head back to the village to inform them of our victory, then return to Queen Sorcha. First, however, I'll need to recover my horse."

Luana had no magical solution to Lugh, but it sounded like she knew a remedy. Ethelred shrugged- with any luck, the druid knew exactly what she was doing. With no reason to stick around, it looked like it was time for them to depart. It's give him plenty of time to answer any questions Luana might have about him.

"Since you're curious about myself, I can tell you a little," he began. "I grew up in Ceolread Castle, near Redwater Point. We're didn't have much of a tradition of knighthood since our family only came to Albion some time after after the old king's fall, but my father had brought one into his service as a housecarl...err, household guard. Since I was young I always had a great interest in the knights of Albion, and my father was gracious enough to allow his subordinate to teach me their ways."

If Luana was familiar with the region, she'd know that Ceolread castle had been reduced ruin approximately four decades ago.

"I was just an ordinary man back then, with an ordinary horse and ordinary arms and armor." Ethelred said, gesturing at his armored frame. "I traveled the land as a knight-errant, until I ran afoul of a powerful Unseelie. They struck me with magic that froze me- and my horse- in ice, and I thought that was the end. Then, many, many years later, Queen Sorcha found me and freed me from the ice, where I found that I had been turned into a being of cold, fused with my now icy armor and unable to remove it. However, I still had my wits, and my horse, who had also been transformed. When I learned of the woman who freed me, and the cause she fought for, I joined up with her, and have been one of her knights ever since."

Ethelred couldn't help but wonder if the ice block he had been trapped in had also served as his cocoon as he transformed, just as the tree appears to have been for the Unseelie within. Did it protect him as he was slowly reshaped, just as the tree seemingly did for the Unseelie until it was broken open?

@BrokenPromise@Rune_Alchemist
Fleuri Jodeau


Thanks to Vier's intervention, the warrior's axe never reached Fleuri. Unfortunately, this resulted in his fellow knight taking the blast, throwing him across the room. Fleuri wasn't sure how injured Vier was- that explosion might have merely knocked the wind out of him, or it could have shattered every bone in his chest.

We need to end this before anyone else gets hit with that attack.

The Barukstaed man had avoided Fleuri's attack, but his sword was still close to his neck. As he raised his axe, once again glowing in preparation for another explosion, it was immediately clear that Fleuri wouldn't have time for anything elaborate or risky. Instead, the knight stepped back out of the range of the axe, sliding the blade of his greatsword against the man's neck as he withdrew. He wouldn't have enough leverage to decapitate, but he hoped that there'd be at least sufficient force to inflict a fatal laceration.

Unless, of course, the Barukstaedian's neck was protected by mail (Between the tomb's lighting and his helmet, Fleuri couldn't quite discern whether it was), in which case, it would at most annoy him.

@Conscripts@Rune_Alchemist@Creative Chaos
Captain Argus Fellborn


Argus had not lost his touch when it came to scaring people. Perhaps this woman might not have deserved to be frightened in this manner, but he preferred that the mortals whom he dealt with feel at least a twinge of fear or unease. Better for everyone that way, he felt.

"I did not mean to startle you," he assured her. "I am clearly a bit rusty at making a proper entrance."

The woman identified herself as a healer and scholar. Her knowledge might prove useful, Argus surmised. Assuming, of course, that he could pay her. Just what sort of currency would these broken people use, anyway? Surely the precious coins and metals valued in the previous age would not hold the same worth to such a broken civilization.

"There is something of an arguably scholarly nature...that I would like to know," he proposed. "I have a specific interest in the the ship graveyard, and the malevolent force that commands the dead. Just what manner and form of payment might you request for such knowledge?"

@Rune_Alchemist
Here's my CS proposal.



The Unseelie's demise was a victory, for sure. However, when it uttered an apology to its mother, Ethelred found himself taking and holding its emergent hand as it expired, somewhat touched by its sorrowful last words.

"If you loved her, perhaps the goddess will consider it when you are judged," he spoke softly, unsure if the Unseelie held on long enough to hear his words.

Following his foe's death and the retreat of the other Unseelie, he headed over to the others. Poor Lugh was dinged up a little and smelled awful, but that was the worst of it. Elnith had avoided injury, but the newcomer- the druid- had been unfortunate enough to be under the tree when it fell, yet seemed barely fazed by it. In fact, she was invigorated, and even willing to continue the fight despite having just taken a blow that could've killed a person. He certainly couldn't question her fortitude.

"Yes, I have questions," he responded. "It's not every day we meet someone whom being crushed under a tree doesn't even slow them down. Where are you from, and where did you learn your magic?"

Someone of her magical skills could be useful to Sorcha's cause, if she was willing. If not, she could still be a very useful contact and ally.

"And, err, I don't suppose you know any any magic that can get the smell out of Lugh, do you?"

@BrokenPromise
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