Avatar of ERode

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

Most Recent Posts

Right, so Vita, what are the limits of a character's capabilities at the start? I'd like to have a relatively clear image of what's considered normal and what's considered impressive, especially because such qualities vary a lot from anime RP to anime RP.

Like, is the average PC artifact hunter capable of deflecting bullets with their sword? Can they run fast enough to outrace a car? If they take a knife into their gut, are they dead or do they shrug it off with a 'teehee'?
How powerful are PCs going to be at the start? Are we looking at being able to singlehandedly beat up house-sized monsters and such?
Thoroughly trounced and missing one arm amongst them, the party headed for the Pearl Bloom River instead to do their grinding. Though the loot there would be less and the EXP gain slower as well, it was out of necessity that such decisions were made. After all, they had no healer, were low on healing potions and now they had no ranged physical DPS either. The drain of resources in the Thunderstruck Grove, as well as the overall increased aggressiveness of the monsters there, would have bled them dry too quickly to make for efficient grinding.

The River, thus, was the perfect place for the fledging party to make themselves feel like they were strong again. Alongside so many other players in the area, they worked to end life after monster life at the scenic river and the hills surrounding it, cleaving through scores of lesser monstrosities. It would be dangerous, really, if they encountered another ‘anomaly’ like that frogman martial artist though, so they stuck to only the hunting areas close to town. Amulak’s Nuclei aided greatly in the efficiency of their fights, enabling the SP-focused players to unleash more skills throughout, so long as the mage was willing to foot the bill. Klein’s steadily rising stats enabled him to become a more effective tank overtime as well, the Mountain Man finally possessing physical ability that allowed him to contend with the others. It was a very front-loaded party, really, with even Raime forced into melee due to his inability to use his arm, but they encountered few ranged enemies that Magpie couldn’t rush down immediately, and those that couldn’t were handled readily by Ames, who, with his Stylish functions active, could automatically cut down the projectiles that flew in the direction of their sole backline.

Overall, it was a comfortable, even calming feeling; it might have to do with the fact that half the party was already above the level bracket recommended for the area though, and in the end, with little fanfare, Amulak and Ames both reached it to LVL 50, and the party found themselves at the Keystone plaza once more. A beam of light shot up from both the players when they attained their second job, a surge of new energy surging into their veins, but beyond that, no other sensations moved within them.

Perhaps, with time, such advancements would become more celebrated.

As for now, however, the party was once again at a crossroads. Somewhat richer, somewhat more well-equipped, but mostly just higher-levelled, what path would they pursue?
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

After Ari had ended up selling her soul to the nameless man up in the room with maps, Zhi-Toren came into the room, still looking somewhat out of it after the noontime rush of news, news, and more news. The woman bore a complicated expression as the man explained all that Ari had signed up for, but ultimately, there must have been some sense of hierarchy present, because she sighed, brought the catgirl out of the room, made a couple calls, and then briefed her on what was to happen.

Ari’s main weakness right now was her lack of knowledge of the world beyond Nyu-Taro, her incredibly low levels, and her lack of equipment (Zhi-Toren had a laugh when she learned about the custom-order). To amend all these problems at once, the CCC would be sending her on a caravan escort quest that already has a party in place, for Ari to leech EXP while travelling out into the broader expanses of Horogi. The specifics of the quest were simple enough, thankfully:

A merchant dealing in carpets and cloths plans on taking the Zen’Toji route to the northwestern side of the Mora-Sho’s territory. Though a longer route than what the main road provides, it’s a relatively smooth and flat traverse. The monsters that they were expected to encounter should be manageable either in terms of combat or in terms of escape. The journey would take two days total before the merchant reaches the Mora-Sho’s railroad system, from where the quest would be fulfilled, and the cost of board for the inns that the group would be staying in during this escort will be footed by the merchant as well. As customary for most low-risk escorts, the merchant would be paying 75,000 rishi per adventurer at the end of the trip, and they’ll be expected to figure out their own methods of returning to Nyu-Taro, if they wish to do so.

Ari, of course, would definitely wish to do so if she wanted to pick up her new weapon.



At the western gate, the wagon that Ari was assigned to escort had just finished loading. It was a simple design, a round frame covered in canvas and filled to the brim with rolls of cloth. There was no space at all to sit inside, but the dress of the merchant, embroidered silks and jewelry that didn’t befit a man so pudgy as himself, made it clear that his disinterest in upgrading his wagon was probably rooted somewhat in his interest in ‘investing’ in himself. Ari’s Immortal colleagues were also loitering around the area, some more impatient than others. There were four in total, and compared to her own meager equipment, they certainly looked more adventure-y than herself. At the catgirl’s approach, the merchant pulled out a little bell from the folds of his robes, and ringed it back and forth to grab everyone’s attentions.

“Many gratitudes once more, my fine and mighty warriors, for accepting this humble request of mine. Though it may be a mere two days on the road, I do pray that we all get along and enjoy ourselves as much as the circumstances allow for.” The merchant placed his hands together. “To start with, shall we share introductions? My name is Man Joji Zleto, a merchant of the cloth. Though I’m fine with allowing all of you free agency when it comes to dealing with whatever monsters or ruffians we encounter, I kindly ask of you all to keep your hands off my merchandise as well. Let those who know their roles play their roles, yes?”

“Bortz Godfaller,” a heavily-armored man grinned, hefting a hammer whose head was made of a demonic insect fossilized in amber. “I’m 100% the toughest, baddest motherfucker here, so y’all just let me do the tanking, yeah?”

The tattooed shaman with a bearskin cloak over her head rolled her eyes. “Just call me Droko. Ignore the bighead; dude’s still getting off his high of finally reaching his next job’s requirements.”

“And I’m Vatorious Elemessio!” chirped the swordsman with the flaming shoes. “Real pleasure to meet y’all ladies. Gets tiring to hang with muscle-chicks all the time, so it’s nice to see a couple with an eye of aesthetics like you two.”

And as Ari’s eyes settled upon the last person, the catgirl noticed something. That design, that hairstyle…that was all familiar, wasn’t it?

The last person for this quest was Calace! What a coincidence!
@GreenGoat@Haha
Thinking of making a faction of Trailblazers, who make their income from mapping out the features and dangers within new high-traffic areas using spray paint and such. Probably a loose organization of dumbasses who get a thrill off being the first to reach a certain place, rather than actually grab and sell artifacts or whatever. Like a buncha 'I wuz here' punks.

Named after a prophet, rather than a god? The corner of Isidore’s mouth twitched upwards. In every day and age, there was someone claiming to be the Messiah, hm? Donovan undoubtedly would’ve enjoyed this. Interesting too, that the Elder Beast Leuca mentioned seemed to be referred to as just a beast by the Acolytes, if there was an association between the two. Stieneter was another name though. So many names. Back then, he’d have to write those names down and work hard to memorize them. Now, they slid into the cabinets of his mind with an ease that would have been unnerving if it wasn’t convenient.

“Stay strong,” Isidore said as he turned. “If you meet a man named Donovan, tell him about your prophet.” He was sure to be amused by that.

With that, the dark-haired man followed Augusta back to where the others were hiding. Leuca, predictably, wanted answers about her sister, but those answers had not been found at the camp. He shook his head while Augusta responded, one eye still on the encampment they had left behind. “The dwarves are closed, and Firebeard's influence is unknown.” He paused, his gaze shifting further into the mountain. “While there's still light, we look for Sorcha. Start at the pass; all travelers would've funneled to that location. When the sun falls, we rest. At night, the Urutha's signs.”

He gently tugged the hood lower over Leuca's head, then shared some rations to prepare for the journey ahead.

“Leuca, do y-” Isidore’s gaze swept over her and he stopped. “Nevermind. Let’s move.”

Magic, for all the mystery and study it required, was appearing to be something that this particular group had in spades, hm? Lady Vela's dominion over ice, and now Finn's arcane arrows both proved their efficacy in handling the ruffians that accosted them, leaving Qantz-Farron satisfied with remaining where he was. Listening for Sera's success, watching the orc that had shifted from a stance ready for combat to a stance more open for communication. The archer's shot would keep him honest. Unless the sword skill of this orc was truly something to behold, there was little chance that an escape could be made between the barrage of ice and bolts that would befall him.

"Between the three of us," Qantz-Farron spoke, his black gaze settling upon the orc, "None of us are in need of gold. Rather, we're looking for...a cooperator. Someone willing to lead us to where a new substance is being made. If that someone is willing, of course, arrangements could be made that would be beneficial to them and them alone. If not, well...the Guard was rather clear on what our task was."

His head tilted towards the building that Sera had slipped into, as if he could hear something inaudible to the others.

"Oh, but it'd be good for you to decide quickly. This is a limited-time offer, you see. Limited by how long it takes for knives to make them sing."

Qantz-Farron smiled, and somewhere unseen, the ticking of a clock ringed.

Otis cracked his neck and rubbed his eyes as he leaned back, feeling the cramps in his hands. It had been a productive session of note-taking for sure, and the Tsuchimikado’s Talisman of Enervation was especially interesting. If it could disrupt the flow of magic from within, then could it not also be designed to absorb instead? And if it could absorb energy, Otis could say that he found a new avenue to take his own bulletcraft.

On the side of researching the spirit world, however, things were definitely murkier. Nothing that the Strigidae uncovered seemed to deal directly with the detection of that other reality. Rather, they generated fields that moved one to the spiritual realm…but considering how Motsuhime had spoken about the ‘personal’ realms that sufficiently powerful demons could make, that may not work out too well either. Otis furrowed his brow over the subject for a bit longer, before standing straight up.

If that was how it was gonna be, that was how it was gonna be.

Jamming his notes into his pouches, Otis turned to leave, only briefly pausing to send his new LINE buddy a message back.

“Good animal. This is my gun. It doesn’t have a name.”

With that, he was off, heading for the site of the crime: the convention center.

A fair amount of days had passed since the disappearance of half the class, and any physical evidence would have been disturbed and destroyed by the ebb and flow of mortal traffic anyhow. What he sought at the convention center, however, was an opportunity to test just how ‘connected’ individual pieces of the spirit realm was. There had been mentions of certain points in the world where the boundary between the twinned realms was thinner than normal, and considering how the kidnapping of multiple students didn’t raise any eyebrows from the supernaturally-talented individuals within the convention center, there must be a similar tear in that area, one subtle enough to slip beneath their detection.

Spirited away indeed.

The Strigidae looked towards the convention center, closed as it was now to civilians, and narrowed his eyes. Looked like he was going to have to do some homework first.

With that, Otis began to circle around the building, opening both his magical and physical sense to detect fluctuations in space and the presence of security cameras. First, he would map out the area in his mind. If there was a convenient ‘gap’ that was accessible even from the outside of the center, then he would happily use one his talismans for that.

If not?

Metal Gear Solid was a game that didn’t only test one’s reflexes, but also their tactical acumen and ability to memorize patterns. All three would suit him very well, in this upcoming infiltration mission.
Haha wow, that FC is really fucking hilarious.
A gnarly toenail tore against Magpie’s side as she leapt past the zomboni, body burning up with power. Glancing blow indeed, capable of gouging the flesh beneath her robes but not enough to kill her outright. And from there, it was a clean two-hit wombo combo as her fingers hooked into the jaw of the flying oni, arresting its motion and pulling its desiccated body with her. Feet skidding against the ground, the brawler hurled her quarry head-first with such force that a meter-wide crater was formed even as its body bounced back up!

And as it did, her fist drew back, the last vestiges of her SP turning her arm incandescent. A shining power, a brilliant force, raw strength converted into big numbers. With an uppercut that her descendants would be talking about for generations to come, Magpie sent the monster skywards, turning away as an explosion of light rocked the entire battlefield, shaking her organs to its core.

That was her, right? That was totally her.

…naw, that was Raime.

In the aftermath of the God-Searing Light, steam hissed out of the volcano-esque arm cannon, the Scout feeling utterly drained. He was bleeding and his heart was pounding much too quickly to be considered healthy. Before him, an Amulak coated in carbonized oni-ash was still trapped, and further off, Klein had no intention of getting up again. Magpie and Ames, with only the worms of the remaining oni to deal with, dispatched them swiftly. The encounter was over. The corpses of the oni and the strange creatures that infested them both dissolved into a chromatic display of pixels that reformed into loot. Experience points flooded the entire party as well, everyone experiencing at least one level up, and thus their Resources were all filled back up.

But a sense of imbalance remained.

The holes in Raime’s body were reformed, but his arm was not regrown. In the corner of his eye, a status effect was displayed.

[Dismembered – Right Arm]

The winds of the Thunderstruck Grove continued to whisper, as new fog coated the skylight that had been there only moments before. The party had a moment or two to decide before the monstrosities of the blasted forest began to follow the trails of blood once more.

Retreat or proceed?
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

Their commander was so young?

Isidore locked gazes with Fiacre. Talented then, or nepotistic. Considering the conditions they were in and the low moral of the men, however, it sounded like the former. Talented but unpopular, sent on a mission that was unfavorable to damage his reputation. Such complex politics only popped up later on in Isidore’s life, but it was easy enough to imagine.

“Not the storm,” he said, gazing back the way they came. “We were attacked by the Dirithen soon after coming upon them.” A twist of the dwarvish polearm told what happened afterwards. Simplified, convenient truths. Never a need to speak more than necessary. “Call me Isidore. My companion Augusta.”

More snippets of information. The beast, a missing captain, and the dwarven gates. Internal strife or external threat. Firebeard’s machinations, and the faction he lead. A pass blocked off by an avalanche. He internalized all this, then rubbed his shoulder. Despite Augusta’s healing the night before, it was still sore. Phantom scars, perhaps.

“Tell me about Rheane, the beast, and Railey.” A pause. “I’ll keep an eye out as we go further out.”

With luck, their rations would last until they came across the mushrooms of the Urutha. But if not, a contingency was good. His gaze swept the rest of camp while Fiacre spoke.

Hm.

None with the same breathtaking fairness of Augusta or the budding beauty of Leuca. Was his companion going to be outed on the merit of her heartpiercing allure alone? Isidore shifted his stance casually, interposing himself in front of the long-eared woman more. Maybe a mask would be helpful.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet