Ah, understood.
Despite the massive tension I'm building up in the collab, I actually want to see this resolved without conflict. Believe me, it's in your best interest to cooperate. The way things are right now on the bridge, FourSev can end Den's life so quickly he'd be on the ground before anybody even knew what was happening.
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"Well, it is said that no human eye can track your movements. I'm no human, and these eyes come from a beast much faster than you." Herriman replied. "Perhaps you shouldn't call others arrogant while you boast about your pitiful speed."
Herriman was confident, having asked The Raven God to bless him with the rune of swiftness before this battle started.
Then came the dirt.
With sudden and brutal rebuttal, Herriman lashed out with his pincer arm, which had been building up tension in order to spring forwards like some kind of tendoned ballista. Herriman wasn't a fool, having this many eyes was definitely a vulnerabilty, which was why when the dirt hit them, it just seemed to glance off like the eyes were covered in some sort of protective field. Being part of his body, the eyes got the armor-like protection of the beast pelt around his shoulder, thus rendering the old "sand in the eyes" trick utterly useless, and a complete waste of motion on Mifune's part.
Before Mifune's leg was even back on the ground, Herriman's claw came screaming towards him with incredible speeds rivaling Mifune's, coming at an angle where even if he were to attempt to quick-draw block it with his katana, the parry would be awkward at best. At the same time that he made this attack with his claw, Herriman thrust his head forwards, a jet of blue and pink fire shooting straight ahead towards Mifune's legs.
Herriman was confident, having asked The Raven God to bless him with the rune of swiftness before this battle started.
Then came the dirt.
With sudden and brutal rebuttal, Herriman lashed out with his pincer arm, which had been building up tension in order to spring forwards like some kind of tendoned ballista. Herriman wasn't a fool, having this many eyes was definitely a vulnerabilty, which was why when the dirt hit them, it just seemed to glance off like the eyes were covered in some sort of protective field. Being part of his body, the eyes got the armor-like protection of the beast pelt around his shoulder, thus rendering the old "sand in the eyes" trick utterly useless, and a complete waste of motion on Mifune's part.
Before Mifune's leg was even back on the ground, Herriman's claw came screaming towards him with incredible speeds rivaling Mifune's, coming at an angle where even if he were to attempt to quick-draw block it with his katana, the parry would be awkward at best. At the same time that he made this attack with his claw, Herriman thrust his head forwards, a jet of blue and pink fire shooting straight ahead towards Mifune's legs.
Sorry for the late reply.
Of course the party can use my boat! It's kind of the reason I came up with a sailor in the first place!
Of course the party can use my boat! It's kind of the reason I came up with a sailor in the first place!
Hey, if nobody turns up to be the Moriarti boss, can I have him as my second character?
"Hmph. At first, I thought it the metaphorical way, but it appears you actually are blind." Herriman started, drawing a couple symbols on the ground.
"She was far from defenseless or helpless. If it weren't for my quick thinking, she would've had me. Also, mutilating her corpse? Well, if you consider dropping her body and returning her weapon to her so she could be resurrected with it mutilating, I'd hate to see what you consider vulgar. Seriously, do you even know what magic is?" He continued, finishing off his communion by rubbing off the symbol on his helmet.
He stood up, more or less replenished, as his free arm cracked and thickened into some kind of armored pincer, and small red eyes pustuled out all over his body like tumors. "I'll be sure to hold up your head nice and plain so your bitch goddess can take a good look at it. Come to your death, samurai!"
"She was far from defenseless or helpless. If it weren't for my quick thinking, she would've had me. Also, mutilating her corpse? Well, if you consider dropping her body and returning her weapon to her so she could be resurrected with it mutilating, I'd hate to see what you consider vulgar. Seriously, do you even know what magic is?" He continued, finishing off his communion by rubbing off the symbol on his helmet.
He stood up, more or less replenished, as his free arm cracked and thickened into some kind of armored pincer, and small red eyes pustuled out all over his body like tumors. "I'll be sure to hold up your head nice and plain so your bitch goddess can take a good look at it. Come to your death, samurai!"
"So, you've waited for a girl to soften me up for you?! Some honorable samurai you are!" Herriman called out, managing to elicit some boos and jeers aimed at Mifune from the crowd. "Nevertheless, I accept your challenge. But first, I must commune with my god." He said, and Setrak disappeared from Herriman's hand as he sat down among the twisted and mutated vegetation. Placing his hands on the half-fleshy dirt, he took a handful of it, drawing a 'B' shape (except the 'B' had no curves, just sharp angles) on the front of his helmet. The shape (a rune of sorts) started glowing a dull purple, and a red haze started to rise from Herriman's shoulders.
I know that no firefight is meant to happen, but speculating is always all in good fun, as long as nobody takes it too seriously.
Anyways, locking out the bridge will do no good. FourSev will have the entire ship systems at his fingertips there (trust me, he can break any imperial encryption on those terminals) and even if you somehow disable the terminals, FourSev can shoot his way out. He has a blaster cannon mounted on his shoulder.
Also, I feel the need to clarify that FourSev has no skin to burn. He's six feet seven inches of the best bionics the empire has in store Shooting at him with anything less than a proper blaster rifle (the big long ones that fire on semi-auto) will just scrape armor at most. He's like an already armored combat droid WEARING heavy stormtrooper armor. Sep wasn't exaggerating when he said Dark Troopers are tanks.
Anyways, locking out the bridge will do no good. FourSev will have the entire ship systems at his fingertips there (trust me, he can break any imperial encryption on those terminals) and even if you somehow disable the terminals, FourSev can shoot his way out. He has a blaster cannon mounted on his shoulder.
Also, I feel the need to clarify that FourSev has no skin to burn. He's six feet seven inches of the best bionics the empire has in store Shooting at him with anything less than a proper blaster rifle (the big long ones that fire on semi-auto) will just scrape armor at most. He's like an already armored combat droid WEARING heavy stormtrooper armor. Sep wasn't exaggerating when he said Dark Troopers are tanks.
Well, given how the biggest weapon carried by the average crewman is a light blaster, and only about a third (at most) of the crew are actual soldiers, FourSev is actually pretty capable of tearing his way through the ship. But that's just food for thought. I highly doubt we're going to reach a situation where FourSev goes hostile. He can, however, commandeer your bridge and essentially do Den's job for him if he thinks Den isn't doing a good job. Dark Troopers have a pretty special kind of authority.
For a few moments after the explosion, Herriman stood there, breathing heavily with Priroda's lifeless, still mutating body pressed to his chest. It was a bit of a moment of solidarity, him and this corpse, but after a few seconds, he discarded Priroda to the side, like a broken toy. Taking the sickle out of the hook in his chest, he tossed it onto Priroda's corpse before it was called up into the heavens. His body formed back into its usual shape, and he turned his head to Sol. He didn't want to show it, but he was tired, drained from that attack.
He stood there, confident as ever, and addressed Sol. "You are free to surrender, girl. Killing you will hardly be sport." He said, pointing an axe at her.
He stood there, confident as ever, and addressed Sol. "You are free to surrender, girl. Killing you will hardly be sport." He said, pointing an axe at her.
I am totally interested! Leaving this placeholder here so I can edit it with my Character Sheet later tonight, when I get home.
(If you don't mind, I've added a category or two to the character sheet, just so I could flesh out my character a bit more.)
Name: Hargjorn (Pronounced Harg-Yorn) Thrice-Batterred
Race: Is a mix between Nordic and Redguard blood.
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Origin: The grand city of Solitude
Religious Beliefs: Nordic Pantheon, with a strong leaning towards Kynareth.
Class: Warrior
Fighting Style: Light Armor/Heavy Armor mix and a single one-handed weapon.
Fighting Style Specifics: Being a sailor, Hargjorn's fighting style depends on quick footwork, light armor, and situational awareness. Not to mention that fighting on the high seas also come with the chance of falling into the drink, and if you're wearing a suit of metal armor, you're going to be sinking like a stone. So, this means Hargjorn's preferred fighting method is a one-handed weapon in one hand, and nothing in the other. A free hand is useful in environments where you might need to hang onto a railing, or swing on a rope while fighting someone off at the same time. Hargjorn's preferred weapon type is swords, but he does keep a one-handed boarding axe as backup in case he goes overboard and needs to climb back up.
Affiliations: The Solitude Merchant's Guild, The East Empire Trading Company, The Solitude Sailor's Guild
Bio: Born to a moderately wealthy family in Solitude, Hargjorn has always been the black sheep among his siblings. The family tradition was always one of proud service to The Empire, in the form of military tradition. Hargjorn, however, never displayed any interest in the military. Always the odd child out, Hargjorn aspired to be a merchant, and could often be found at the Solitude docks, enchanted by the stories of the men who sailed to far-off destinations. As he grew, his parents found that he did indeed have a talent for money and trade, but they tried to repress these talents. Enrolling him in a military academy for young boys, Hargjorn suffered under a strict instructor and a somewhat brutal training regiment designed to turn boys into soldiers. After two years, Hargjorn returned from the academy a stronger, tougher, and faster boy. Unbeknownst to his parents, however, Hargjorn's dreams were more than intact.
One night, when he was ten, Hargjorn ran away from home taking all of his belonging (and a few valuables from home that wouldn't be missed). He joined up with a ship's crew as a deck-wiper, and has worked his way up to the top ever since, becoming a well-established sailing merchant, buying cargo in Solitude to be shipped to other parts of Tamriel. Recently, however, He's become bored of his constant back-and-forth lifestyle, and began to desire something more.
A true adventure.
Personality: Hargjorn is a people person at heart (a necessary quality for the captain of a merchant vessel), but he keeps this social nature hidden behind a gruff exterior he keeps reserved for strangers. He's understanding, rowdy and kind, but he can swing into the fiercest of tempers if pushed hard enough. He has a certain disdain for folks of a dishonest nature, and is extremely protective of his ship, the Kynareth's Tear
Appearance: Hargjorn pushes 6"3' in height, and has a strong and broad body, hardened by more than thirty years at sea, with defined and toned muscles. He possesses a short, thick neck, and a face with rather squarish face with powerful, sharp features. He has a long beard that's kept in a rather wide braid to control it's length, and more or less maintained neck length hair. His hair is a tawny brown. He's got a few scars (mostly on his arms from sailing accidents, but some are from weapons, such as a deep scar that runs across his chest horizontally), but nothing song-worthy. He also has a light layer of manly body hair on his chest and below his elbows.
In terms of clothing, Hargjorn prefers to wear a long, leather coat, designed to protect his body like a suit of leather armor. Under this coat, he wears a steel breastplate, and he also wears a plain steel helmet on his head, designed to be as plain and featureless as possible. He keeps the helmet off and hanging on his belt when there's no fighting going on, preferring to wear a wide-brimmed hat designed to keep sun and rain out of his eyes. Sometimes, usually when fighting in rainy or sunny conditions, Hargjorn might wear both the helmet and the hat at the same time, the plainness of the helmet allowing for a somewhat acceptable fit for the hat.
Other:
-Hargjorn's ship, Kynareth's Tear, is a medium-sized merchant vessel. It has two small ballistas mounted one the port and starboard sides (intended for defense against pirates) and has a minimum effective crew of sixteen, men. Usually, Hargjorn keeps the crew about 24 strong, since boardings do tend to happen every once in a while, and accidents can always occur.
-Hargjorn is called "Thrice-Battered" because he's survived three massive storms at sea, and is somewhat of an expert when it comes to navigating these extremely treacherous events
(If you don't mind, I've added a category or two to the character sheet, just so I could flesh out my character a bit more.)
Name: Hargjorn (Pronounced Harg-Yorn) Thrice-Batterred
Race: Is a mix between Nordic and Redguard blood.
Age: 43
Gender: Male
Origin: The grand city of Solitude
Religious Beliefs: Nordic Pantheon, with a strong leaning towards Kynareth.
Class: Warrior
Fighting Style: Light Armor/Heavy Armor mix and a single one-handed weapon.
Fighting Style Specifics: Being a sailor, Hargjorn's fighting style depends on quick footwork, light armor, and situational awareness. Not to mention that fighting on the high seas also come with the chance of falling into the drink, and if you're wearing a suit of metal armor, you're going to be sinking like a stone. So, this means Hargjorn's preferred fighting method is a one-handed weapon in one hand, and nothing in the other. A free hand is useful in environments where you might need to hang onto a railing, or swing on a rope while fighting someone off at the same time. Hargjorn's preferred weapon type is swords, but he does keep a one-handed boarding axe as backup in case he goes overboard and needs to climb back up.
Affiliations: The Solitude Merchant's Guild, The East Empire Trading Company, The Solitude Sailor's Guild
Bio: Born to a moderately wealthy family in Solitude, Hargjorn has always been the black sheep among his siblings. The family tradition was always one of proud service to The Empire, in the form of military tradition. Hargjorn, however, never displayed any interest in the military. Always the odd child out, Hargjorn aspired to be a merchant, and could often be found at the Solitude docks, enchanted by the stories of the men who sailed to far-off destinations. As he grew, his parents found that he did indeed have a talent for money and trade, but they tried to repress these talents. Enrolling him in a military academy for young boys, Hargjorn suffered under a strict instructor and a somewhat brutal training regiment designed to turn boys into soldiers. After two years, Hargjorn returned from the academy a stronger, tougher, and faster boy. Unbeknownst to his parents, however, Hargjorn's dreams were more than intact.
One night, when he was ten, Hargjorn ran away from home taking all of his belonging (and a few valuables from home that wouldn't be missed). He joined up with a ship's crew as a deck-wiper, and has worked his way up to the top ever since, becoming a well-established sailing merchant, buying cargo in Solitude to be shipped to other parts of Tamriel. Recently, however, He's become bored of his constant back-and-forth lifestyle, and began to desire something more.
A true adventure.
Personality: Hargjorn is a people person at heart (a necessary quality for the captain of a merchant vessel), but he keeps this social nature hidden behind a gruff exterior he keeps reserved for strangers. He's understanding, rowdy and kind, but he can swing into the fiercest of tempers if pushed hard enough. He has a certain disdain for folks of a dishonest nature, and is extremely protective of his ship, the Kynareth's Tear
Appearance: Hargjorn pushes 6"3' in height, and has a strong and broad body, hardened by more than thirty years at sea, with defined and toned muscles. He possesses a short, thick neck, and a face with rather squarish face with powerful, sharp features. He has a long beard that's kept in a rather wide braid to control it's length, and more or less maintained neck length hair. His hair is a tawny brown. He's got a few scars (mostly on his arms from sailing accidents, but some are from weapons, such as a deep scar that runs across his chest horizontally), but nothing song-worthy. He also has a light layer of manly body hair on his chest and below his elbows.
In terms of clothing, Hargjorn prefers to wear a long, leather coat, designed to protect his body like a suit of leather armor. Under this coat, he wears a steel breastplate, and he also wears a plain steel helmet on his head, designed to be as plain and featureless as possible. He keeps the helmet off and hanging on his belt when there's no fighting going on, preferring to wear a wide-brimmed hat designed to keep sun and rain out of his eyes. Sometimes, usually when fighting in rainy or sunny conditions, Hargjorn might wear both the helmet and the hat at the same time, the plainness of the helmet allowing for a somewhat acceptable fit for the hat.
Other:
-Hargjorn's ship, Kynareth's Tear, is a medium-sized merchant vessel. It has two small ballistas mounted one the port and starboard sides (intended for defense against pirates) and has a minimum effective crew of sixteen, men. Usually, Hargjorn keeps the crew about 24 strong, since boardings do tend to happen every once in a while, and accidents can always occur.
-Hargjorn is called "Thrice-Battered" because he's survived three massive storms at sea, and is somewhat of an expert when it comes to navigating these extremely treacherous events
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