@Thortimer sorry if that was a bit too much godmod for you. I was struggling to come up with a way to effectively get us out of there, to make sure we don't unnessecarily prolong the plot, without making it seem like I was trying to control Marcus. If you want you can just say Marcus managed to avoid being taken so he can stare at the spider a bit more. Or I can edit it if you please.
Errant Son Member
Keep talking like it's a 미장원
STATUS: Jesus H. Christ where my europeans at, this site is so dead in European timezones 9 yrs ago- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
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Jesus H. Christ where my europeans at, this site is so dead in European timezones
9 yrs ago
Naruto is cool and all but once you start analyzing the anime for an RP you realize all the shortcomings that Kishimoto suffered from. Itachi should've been renamed the Deus Ex Machina Machine.
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9 yrs ago
I could not look on Death, which being known, Men led me to him, blindfold and alone.
9 yrs ago
I don't like Star Wars
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9 yrs ago
Instead of being ''fun'' that new members online bar at the top just gives me crippling depression. The number seems so small.
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“Fool! You'll die without knowing it, just like your master! Do you see the king here? No! So let's move! We can't find my king even if he was here if we are dead!” Gawain yelled at the mage, before being interrupted by a familiar voice. Before even being given the chance to reply smugly and wittily with a smart comeback, about how Juna was an elven whore, or how her famed leader now laid dead because he fell off his horse like a moron, she had fired her weapon. Immediately Gawain ducked down low and heard the unsoothing, fear-inducing sound of a piece of lead swooping by his head. “Fucking ELVES! See now mage, they are firing upon us! Come! Come with m- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, SHOOTING FIRE AT THAT THING? ARE YOU MAD?”
Yes. Mages are mad, Gawain. All of them. The voice in the back of his head seemed to be the only voice of reason within this debacle as it tried to explain that mages were indeed all mad. And if anyone looked at this moronic figure trying to fight a bloody spider mage of hell they would be inclined to agree. The spider was there in all it's might, and it was doing.. something! The earth warped around it, mountains disappeared in the direction of Vicenna, it was almost like Gawain's reckoning had finally arrived. Any moment now, the Monarch would come riding down on a glorious golden steed to take Gawain to the heavens, but alas, that did not happen. Gawain shook his head, attempting to get rid of the mad-talk he was entering in in his mind. Golden steeds? The Mountainrange of Vicenna? Gawain was sure he was going mad in this place, and the only escape.. was to get away from this place.
He stepped forward in the sand which seemed to be draining downwards as if all the earth in the world had disappeared and made way for more sand to appear. It seemed like a mistake to step forwards but he needed the mage - he needed him to explain what magic this weird spider was using, he needed him to possibly ride to Areta, to explain to the nobles what was going on, and to get permission to enter full on war with Vicenna. They were no doubt the creators of these beasts and who could better prove that than this mage boy?
He grabbed the boy in the neck, firmly, more firmly than he had grabbed his tunic earlier, and pulled him back. Perhaps he grabbed him too hard, but at least he pulled the boy out of the sand. It gave the boy a chance, perhaps, to feel some more solid sand under his feet. They would have to hurry though, or else they'd still be trapped in the sand, and perhaps in the company of more spiders.
“Sorry to manhandle you like this,” Gawain mumbled as he walked backwards, headed for the horse that had been standing there, attempting to keep it's calm. It was the horse that Marcus had used to follow the elves. “But I need you. God, never thought I'd say that about a heretic mage like you, but it's true, I need you. And you're no use to me dead.” It seemed like Gawain was finally regaining some of his usual composure, since the lack of food, water and sleep was getting to him.
And that fucking sand. The sand, that was always in your eyes and mouth, and creaked between your teeth no matter what you did.
He pushed the boy towards the horse with a quick hard shove, before quickly mounting the horse. Without waiting for the boy to reply - whether positive or negative - he'd pull the boy onto the horse without much effort. Gawain was strong, and the mage boy, well, less strong. Evidently, mages were inferior in physique. Therefore Vicenna was inferior to Areta. It made sense to Gawain. They needed heretical magic to survive the Aretan superiority. That must've been it.
And then, well, Gawain started riding, riding in a random direction with no sense for where Areta was and where Vicenna was. But Gawain sure as hell wasn't riding towards those mountains that suddenly vanished. That would be like riding your horse into the mouth of a lion. No, he headed the exact other way.
After a few minutes of confused traveling, Gawain spotted something in the distance. Is that.. a house? In the desert, alone, like this..? Gawain squinted and leaned forwards, pushing against Marcus, who he'd forgotten about by now. “That's not a fucking house!” he suddenly blurted out. His noble blood seemed to take a second priority now, with the vulgarities coming out of his mouth being more like that of a peasant. But even the King could excuse him for that if he saw what Gawain saw. “Those are giant ants! Oh, we best get the hell out of he- wait, that standard! Why is that standard there?!” Gawain stopped the horse on a hill that was still standing - barely. The movement in the sand far away meant that the sand here was also unstable. He took a minute to observe the standard.
“I must be mad. That standard is supposed to be in Areta. I must be going stark-raving insane. Mage, tell me, am I insane? What did your mage master do to me to make me like this? I swear.. mages.. you'll pay for this after I am done with you.” He was clearly rambling now, and it would be evident to Marcus that Gawain was slowly losing his mind. Understandable, since he had been kidnapped, mind games had been played with him by the mage, then he was kidnapped again by the elves, then he was attacked by a giant spider, now there was giant ants and to top it off the royal standard was in the middle of a desert. Yes, any man would lose his mind after that.
“Well, if God wants to meet me this badly that he'd place all this before me, who am I to deny him? Hya!” He pulled on the reins and instructed the horse to move forwards with a firm kick in it's sides. The horse whinnied as it moved forwards, possibly alerting the two knights struggling with the ants to the presence of Gawain, and his newfound companion, Marcus the Mage. Or Marcus the Heretic, depending on how uptight you were. Granted, at that point Gawain was not even sure if Marcus was with him anymore. Between the insanity and the intense drought he experienced, it was entirely possible that he'd managed to hallucinate the entire thing, and that he had never even managed to get Marcus on the horse after all. God, he'd have been talking to a hallucination all that time. That'd be embarrassing.
Yes. Mages are mad, Gawain. All of them. The voice in the back of his head seemed to be the only voice of reason within this debacle as it tried to explain that mages were indeed all mad. And if anyone looked at this moronic figure trying to fight a bloody spider mage of hell they would be inclined to agree. The spider was there in all it's might, and it was doing.. something! The earth warped around it, mountains disappeared in the direction of Vicenna, it was almost like Gawain's reckoning had finally arrived. Any moment now, the Monarch would come riding down on a glorious golden steed to take Gawain to the heavens, but alas, that did not happen. Gawain shook his head, attempting to get rid of the mad-talk he was entering in in his mind. Golden steeds? The Mountainrange of Vicenna? Gawain was sure he was going mad in this place, and the only escape.. was to get away from this place.
He stepped forward in the sand which seemed to be draining downwards as if all the earth in the world had disappeared and made way for more sand to appear. It seemed like a mistake to step forwards but he needed the mage - he needed him to explain what magic this weird spider was using, he needed him to possibly ride to Areta, to explain to the nobles what was going on, and to get permission to enter full on war with Vicenna. They were no doubt the creators of these beasts and who could better prove that than this mage boy?
He grabbed the boy in the neck, firmly, more firmly than he had grabbed his tunic earlier, and pulled him back. Perhaps he grabbed him too hard, but at least he pulled the boy out of the sand. It gave the boy a chance, perhaps, to feel some more solid sand under his feet. They would have to hurry though, or else they'd still be trapped in the sand, and perhaps in the company of more spiders.
“Sorry to manhandle you like this,” Gawain mumbled as he walked backwards, headed for the horse that had been standing there, attempting to keep it's calm. It was the horse that Marcus had used to follow the elves. “But I need you. God, never thought I'd say that about a heretic mage like you, but it's true, I need you. And you're no use to me dead.” It seemed like Gawain was finally regaining some of his usual composure, since the lack of food, water and sleep was getting to him.
And that fucking sand. The sand, that was always in your eyes and mouth, and creaked between your teeth no matter what you did.
He pushed the boy towards the horse with a quick hard shove, before quickly mounting the horse. Without waiting for the boy to reply - whether positive or negative - he'd pull the boy onto the horse without much effort. Gawain was strong, and the mage boy, well, less strong. Evidently, mages were inferior in physique. Therefore Vicenna was inferior to Areta. It made sense to Gawain. They needed heretical magic to survive the Aretan superiority. That must've been it.
And then, well, Gawain started riding, riding in a random direction with no sense for where Areta was and where Vicenna was. But Gawain sure as hell wasn't riding towards those mountains that suddenly vanished. That would be like riding your horse into the mouth of a lion. No, he headed the exact other way.
After a few minutes of confused traveling, Gawain spotted something in the distance. Is that.. a house? In the desert, alone, like this..? Gawain squinted and leaned forwards, pushing against Marcus, who he'd forgotten about by now. “That's not a fucking house!” he suddenly blurted out. His noble blood seemed to take a second priority now, with the vulgarities coming out of his mouth being more like that of a peasant. But even the King could excuse him for that if he saw what Gawain saw. “Those are giant ants! Oh, we best get the hell out of he- wait, that standard! Why is that standard there?!” Gawain stopped the horse on a hill that was still standing - barely. The movement in the sand far away meant that the sand here was also unstable. He took a minute to observe the standard.
“I must be mad. That standard is supposed to be in Areta. I must be going stark-raving insane. Mage, tell me, am I insane? What did your mage master do to me to make me like this? I swear.. mages.. you'll pay for this after I am done with you.” He was clearly rambling now, and it would be evident to Marcus that Gawain was slowly losing his mind. Understandable, since he had been kidnapped, mind games had been played with him by the mage, then he was kidnapped again by the elves, then he was attacked by a giant spider, now there was giant ants and to top it off the royal standard was in the middle of a desert. Yes, any man would lose his mind after that.
“Well, if God wants to meet me this badly that he'd place all this before me, who am I to deny him? Hya!” He pulled on the reins and instructed the horse to move forwards with a firm kick in it's sides. The horse whinnied as it moved forwards, possibly alerting the two knights struggling with the ants to the presence of Gawain, and his newfound companion, Marcus the Mage. Or Marcus the Heretic, depending on how uptight you were. Granted, at that point Gawain was not even sure if Marcus was with him anymore. Between the insanity and the intense drought he experienced, it was entirely possible that he'd managed to hallucinate the entire thing, and that he had never even managed to get Marcus on the horse after all. God, he'd have been talking to a hallucination all that time. That'd be embarrassing.
True. I'll get on a reply.
Ah, I forgot Annara was godmodded. I was under the impression that they were still around, but then I remembered, cat and computer. What about Juna?
@Life in Stasis makes sense. OOCly I see why you'd want us to run, though I hadn't quite gotten that hint yet. I thought you wanted us to fight them given the fact that Juna and the mage both seemed to be focussed on fighting them.
I will run then, and probably grab the mage while I'm at it too.
Should I somehow deal with the Eretol woman and the elf too? Somehow 'convince' them to come with Gawain? It sounds illogical but it might be hellish to write them out of the situation they are in given 1 is unconscious and the other is jumping onto a spider.
I will run then, and probably grab the mage while I'm at it too.
Should I somehow deal with the Eretol woman and the elf too? Somehow 'convince' them to come with Gawain? It sounds illogical but it might be hellish to write them out of the situation they are in given 1 is unconscious and the other is jumping onto a spider.
That's what I was thinking. IDK, it seems kinda meta to just go 'well, I hate elves, I hate mages, but I'm gonna ignore my hate for them to escape and magically find the king and other knights'. I think I'd rather have him stay and fight, but perhaps it's better to wait for the mage to, you know, attack us first before I respond because then I can write something interesting.
Now it'd basically be dodge the bullet, look at the spider, wave my sword around at it while trying to stay upright in the sinking sand, and finish.
Now it'd basically be dodge the bullet, look at the spider, wave my sword around at it while trying to stay upright in the sinking sand, and finish.
@Life in Stasis Aren't the knights also kind of in the middle of the ground falling apart? Seems unwise to head that way if that's true.
Seems unwise to head that way if that's true.Sitting in the back of the humming halftrack, Joakim couldn't help but feel uneasy at the sounds that occured, far away yet so close by. He was humming to himself, an old song he knew of. He looked at the karabiner 98k between his legs before looking up at the man across from him. It was Claus, a man whom he had no idea of how he got to be a panzergrenadier. Yet here he was. He wasn't exactly a hero, but any man that can shoot a gun can hit with that gun, therefore he was an addition to the team. Softly, Joakim continued humming to himself.
Wir woll´n zum Sturme gehen,
Frei nach Landsknechtsart,
Laßt den verlor´nen Haufen,
Voran zum Sturme laufen,
Wir folgen dicht geschart.
And that much was true. Joakim wanted to storm - a position, a settlement, a village if he had to. He'd follow the commander anywhere, and walk in front, the vanguard, the first into the battle. Hurrah!
It seemed like God had heard his pleas, and the radio crackled. Joakim couldn't make out what was being said between the loud engine noises and the explosions nearby. 3 minutes... inform your men.. dismissed! That's all he could make out. The squad leader soon clarified, ordering to get out of the halftrack and spread out. “Jawohl herr Unteroffizier!” Joakim answered, before dismounting from the halftrack and spreading out to the right side. They approached the farmhouse and went a good while without being noticed at all.
Suddenly they started receiving fire from the dug in position around the farm. Immediately Joakim's veterancy kicked in and he dropped to the ground, to avoid any fire coming his way. To his left a man who was too slow to lay down got shot, a bullet penetrating his chest. It was unfortunate but there was nothing Joakim could do while they were under fire.
He pulled back the bolt and took aim as best as he could, aiming for a window from where there was enemy fire. Slowly he squeezed the trigger and the gun fired, though from this distance it was hard to shoot accurately even with some training, and the darkness inside the building made it near impossible to see what was going on.
Joakim pulled back the bolt again to load another bullet and looked left and right in search of the officer. “Herr unteroffizier,” he yelled as loud as he could. “We need to flank that position or we'll be sitting out here all day!”
Meanwhile in Lithuania, Pavlov was standing in the farmstead with the commander. The rest of the soldiers had turned and ran away as quick as they could. The commander said something about them being the only ones to die for Stalin and the Motherland, but Pavlov had other ideas. “Sorry sir, but I intend to run to fight another day!” he said as he quickly left the building through the back and followed the rest of the soldiers. He was unsure where they were headed, but it was better than staying there and being captured by those fascists.
Wir woll´n zum Sturme gehen,
Frei nach Landsknechtsart,
Laßt den verlor´nen Haufen,
Voran zum Sturme laufen,
Wir folgen dicht geschart.
And that much was true. Joakim wanted to storm - a position, a settlement, a village if he had to. He'd follow the commander anywhere, and walk in front, the vanguard, the first into the battle. Hurrah!
It seemed like God had heard his pleas, and the radio crackled. Joakim couldn't make out what was being said between the loud engine noises and the explosions nearby. 3 minutes... inform your men.. dismissed! That's all he could make out. The squad leader soon clarified, ordering to get out of the halftrack and spread out. “Jawohl herr Unteroffizier!” Joakim answered, before dismounting from the halftrack and spreading out to the right side. They approached the farmhouse and went a good while without being noticed at all.
Suddenly they started receiving fire from the dug in position around the farm. Immediately Joakim's veterancy kicked in and he dropped to the ground, to avoid any fire coming his way. To his left a man who was too slow to lay down got shot, a bullet penetrating his chest. It was unfortunate but there was nothing Joakim could do while they were under fire.
He pulled back the bolt and took aim as best as he could, aiming for a window from where there was enemy fire. Slowly he squeezed the trigger and the gun fired, though from this distance it was hard to shoot accurately even with some training, and the darkness inside the building made it near impossible to see what was going on.
Joakim pulled back the bolt again to load another bullet and looked left and right in search of the officer. “Herr unteroffizier,” he yelled as loud as he could. “We need to flank that position or we'll be sitting out here all day!”
Meanwhile in Lithuania, Pavlov was standing in the farmstead with the commander. The rest of the soldiers had turned and ran away as quick as they could. The commander said something about them being the only ones to die for Stalin and the Motherland, but Pavlov had other ideas. “Sorry sir, but I intend to run to fight another day!” he said as he quickly left the building through the back and followed the rest of the soldiers. He was unsure where they were headed, but it was better than staying there and being captured by those fascists.
Shit, that'd be great.
@Life in Stasis Sorry to bother but what would be the best course of action? Gawain is hardly fit to fight that.. mage thing, I imagine, or atleast OOCly it was not intended for Gawain to fight him. So where should I head?
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