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Force and Fury Member

Actually kind of mellow

STATUS: Shilling a good medieval fantasy: roleplayerguild.com/topics/… 3 yrs ago
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3 yrs ago
Current Shilling a good medieval fantasy: roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3 yrs ago
Don't mind me. Just shilling a thread: roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
3 yrs ago
So worried right now. My brother just got admitted to the hospital after swallowing six toy horses. Doctors say he's in stable condtion.
8 likes
3 yrs ago
Nice to meet you, Bored. I'm interested!
7 likes
3 yrs ago
Ugh. Someone literally stole the wheels off of my car. Gonna have to work tirelessly for justice.
4 likes

Bio

Oh gee! An age and a gender and interests and things. Yeah, I have those. Ain't no way I'm about to trigger an existential crisis by typing them all out, though. You can find out what a nerd I am on discord, okay?

Stay awesome, people.

Most Recent Posts

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Pirouette@dragonpiece@Ti@Salsa Verde@BreathOfTheWoof@jasbraq@Th3King0fChaos

It’s a simple job, on the surface: get an article to press that the city’s printers are hesitant to print. It appears late on the board, almost as if sneaked in. The pay is less than amazing, but adequate - one magus each - and the poster is looking for five people. “Enough is enough,” it stridently claims. “The people at the reins are steering us off a cliff. Now, they want to see no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil. If you're motivated to make a change, meet us by the fountain north of the Arboretum at 2:00 HD and wear a red ribbon.”

Shortly after, the notice disappears as suddenly as it went up and the day passes. At the appointed hour, those who’ve made themselves available gather in the small plaza surrounding the fountain. The water laps and splashes under the light of three moons and moths and crane flies zip and swirl around a pair of gas lamps. To the south, the arboretum is uncharacteristically still and silent, despite the curfew having been lifted for this event. Perhaps people are scared of the recent unrest. Perhaps they are merely tired after the full-day slog that was Roses & Neskals. There is only the subtle hiss of the gas-powered street lamps and the persistent howling of a distant dog as they arrive.

The students have no trouble recognizing their co-conspirators. They appear to be Ingrid, Zarra, Dory, Sven, Desmond, Casii, Ymiico, and Ayla, each adorned with some variation of the ribbon they were asked to wear. They exchange nods. A few minutes pass and there is no sign of anyone who looks like a potential employer, though nearly everything about this ‘job’ is strange.

Then, just as a couple begin grumbling, a poster materializes on the wall of one of the buildings overlooking the small courtyard. It reads: “When, if ever, is it acceptable to break the law?” Then, a second poster: “You have two minutes,” and a third: “...I’m listening.” It appears that a response is required, for the benefit of… whoever’s listening.

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Don't Stop to Smell the Roses 𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅰

Some called it mortal terror. Others liked to characterize it as ‘adventure.’ Whatever it was, it had become an expected and even essential part of the Ersand’Enise experience. A sanguinaire’s rampage had been halted the previous night. Ancient catacombs had been explored in the Torragonese desert. Students had celebrated their completion of The Dragon by dancing with Eskandish druids in a summer grove well into the evening.

There was, of course, more. Some was of great import, but the sun rose the next morning, the same as it always did, and triumphs and tragedies were placed neatly aside as the day began. Yet, there were some who did not even wait. As Ipte gave way to Shune, they were already rising, stretching, yawning. Hearty early breakfasts were cooked. Eyes were rubbed and yawns stifled. Copious amounts of coffee and other stimulants were consumed and Chemical Magic was in high demand. The hundreds of largely-bedraggled youths who crowded the plaza before Balthazar Hall nonetheless found their enthusiasm once the Zenith appeared. As usual, she was all-too happy to lap up their adulation.

The third event of The Trials, Roses & Neskals, better known nowadays as Roseball, was set to be an all-day tournament, played out in twelve separate arenas spread throughout the Twin Continents. Three minutes were given for teams to choose each other and, while the 1280 youths gathered were old hands at it by this juncture, there was now some strategy involved. They knew who the 'good' teams were. They also knew who were rivals in the standings, and five more of the potential prizes had been revealed. Many glances were taken at the leaderboard. Alliances were made strategically. Vyshta's Favoured and Shortlisted, formerly popular choices, found themselves able to attract only each other. You Could Never was also frozen out by erstwhile friends until rescued by CUBED and the Ice King. To everyone’s great amusement, the two Æresvaktr teams - Pravda and Sadan - finally joined forces.

There was less time to mingle. The bracket was revealed, portals were opened, and teams were assigned their starting locations. Most would not be playing immediately, but they needed to go through. For the second time in as many days, they emerged in a plethora of exotic locales, ready to play.

Not All that Glimmers Is Gold 𝅗𝅥 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅰

It was late afternoon before the wheat had been separated from the chaff, and most of the teams who had stood at the top of the rankings had battled their way through four single-elimination rounds, the sleep-deprivation of their early morning, and the sensory bombardment of their new surroundings and thousands of cheering and jeering fans. They were bruised, battered, and exhausted by the time that they found themselves in the group stage with - for the first time since lunch hour - a touch of breathing room. Browsing the sumptuous buffet tables of their four opening match locations, some collapsed onto the tables, chairs, and bleachers that had been set out for them while others took to snooping around the area, hoping to take int he experience or find local treasures. Word had spread from fellow competitors, hosts, and older relatives that it was Roses & Neskals tradition that various items of value should be found throughout the surrounding area.

For some, it was the whimsical 'Château de Fromage', quaint village square, and idyllic beaches of Picodon Supreme. Others dined above the pounding waves of Razor's Edge, the towers and steeples of the great city of Harrowend rising from the fog on the near-distant mainland. There were those who dined in the sumptuous gardens among the statues and columns of the Imperial in the Thalak capital of Vessaklion, and still others whose meals were taken looking out over the vast canyon of the Anghazi Floater in the jungles of southern Virang.

Then, it came time to play. The bracket had played out almost perfectly to seeding, with the only exception being the upset of the Æresvaktr Alliance at the hands of a colossally boosted Vyshta's Favoured and Shortlisted in the Round of Sixteen. The second and third-placed teams were gunning for the top spot and, so far, none of their matches save their epic clash with pre-tournament favourites Æresvaktr had lasted for more than fifteen minutes. Questioning minds now turned their thoughts to the only question really worth pondering: just who, if anyone, could stop them?

Resources

Matches will be played out live in discord threads over two days each. Each team will have two large posts. Individual players may post as many times as they like during this period. However, they are limited to twitter-length posts, please, for the sake of brevity. Please read the hiders thoroughly. If you have read them and still have questions, feel free to ask a moderator for assistance.



It's time to D-d-d-duel!


In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Ghostlike

Smoke trickled from the corner of Tyrel'yrash's mouth and up into the moonlit room, gradually dissipating. She lay there, naked under her ghostlike covers, hands folded behind her head and a pipe on the nightstand beside her. Chad'amis'yida shared her bed and they had shared each other. She took another pull from the pipe before it went out. She wanted to blow rings but she wasn't very good at it. She nudged him and offered it and Chad had a smoke as well.

The night air lay cool and damp upon her skin and she could feel a hint of goosebumps, but it felt strangely good. The sweltering stink of Hogh Munkhelad was still with her: its narrow claustrophobic streets and feel of enclosure. She halfway wanted to throw something on and run out into the night just to feel unconfined. "You look pensive," remarked her special one, and she snorted. "That obvious, huh?" He nodded and blew a couple of rings of smoke. She'd failed again. "Like three monkeys in a trench coat," he decided. She turned her head, looked him in the eyes, and they smiled together. "It's not a bad pensive," she decided, trailing off.

"Fuck. Whenever a chick says something like that, you know you're doomed."

She punched him on the shoulder and rolled onto her side, resting an elbow on the mattress and the side of her head on her hand. "Ypti, you're such a dick."

"That's uh... the idea."

She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it's more like missed opportunities."

"Babe, we're in the top three. Like, seriously, what more do you -"

"Oh Vysh, I know. It's not that."

"Praying to yourself?" He arched an eyebrow, rolling onto his side to face her as well. "So what? regretting not inviting that pretty little human?"

"I'd have been good with three, maybe even four, but he wasn't interested." She didn't let herself think about why. She already knew, of course. "Didn't you have that Ingrid girl as a partner and she wasn't like... a bitch or anything?"

He smiled. "She was pretty cool, but she was in a hurry to get to somewhere in Torragon, so yeah." He shrugged. "So, what is it? You made up with that bad human copy of you?"

"Damy, don't be so mean," Tyrel whined, "and yes. Her name's Penny." She smiled faintly and rolled her eyes a bit. "Honestly, such a big character and get this: I think she's like... literally dating that weird stalker guy I had before."

"That's a good thing?" Chad prodded.

Tyrel shrugged. "Hey, at least he's leaving me alone," she chirped. She caught herself then. She'd launched into a long meandering emotional conversation, just like her special one had said she would. She grimaced slightly. He really did know her too well. "Anyway, it's like..." Her face became earnest. She took a moment to scratch a itch under the covers. "We're here in Constantia and I'm supposed to be like... this goddess or whatever."

"You say it like you don't believe it."

"Chad..."

"Tyrel..." he mimicked.

She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, don't laugh at me. I was honestly thinking we could do some good. The Consansoi are hurting really badly. Maybe there's like... something I can do." She rolled onto her back again and let out a sigh. It lingered in the night air. Outside, crickets chirped and nocturnal life skittered about the city. There was a tree not far away. One good gift-enhanced leap and she could be there.

"So, if you wannna do it," he replied, sitting up and glancing fondly down at her, "then you should. You know I'm always here."

"To make fun of me?"

"Someone has to, Goddess."

"Say it again, please!" she squealed.

"Goddess."

"Oooh, Chad!" She let out another snort and her face became serious after a moment. "I wanna do it," she said. "I wanna help them. I wanna bring them hope, if I like... can." She sniffed a bit and sat up, drawing her knee to her chin. "I just don't know where to start."

Chad scooted up beside her and wrapped his right arm around her shoulders. Tyrel snuggled into his warmth. "What about that cousin of yours?" he asked. "She's lived among them for years." He furrowed his brow. "Do you even know for sure if she is your cousin?"

Tyrel went silent. She gave a little nod and he kissed the top of her head. "You know my family has secrets."

"I know," he replied.

"She's... related to me."

"Hard to miss."

The putative goddess knew it. Her mother wasn't her mother. Her cousins weren't her cousins. They all looked uncannily similar and she only stood out by virtue of her missing leg. Some received the curse, others didn't. She didn't know for sure about Ismette, but she would venture that her newly-discovered relation was like Mirette, who was out enjoying the night, of course. "I'll speak with her."

"You want me to come?" Chad asked concernedly, his voice a rare tone of earnest.

Tyrel shifted and slid over top of him. She shook her head and kissed him on the lips. "I love you."

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Masks

“This is our chance,” said Benedetto, adamantly. He was all for the cause. Unlike Jocasta, whose loyalty extended only as far as her sense of gratitude and fear that she would be a target should she strike out on her own, he shared the goals of the other who stood in this room with him. He shared them to the very core of his being. “They’ve pushed too hard for their fucking war and now even the rich kids are getting squirmy.”

“Your words may not betray you, Ciano, but your demeanor here does.” The figure in the black mask clasped gloved hands behind the small of its back. “Why should we care for the opinions of the rich? Why should we spend our hard-earned funds on their folly?”

The youth scowled. “It pisses me off too but, if we don’t, then Revidia or Perrence will get their hands on some big weapon and the war will come even faster.”

“And why, Ciano,” said a second masked figure, “should we want to prevent this war?”

“‘Cause it’s people like us who'll die!” he retorted, temper flaring.

“People like us die anyhow,” said a woman in a red mask. “And, usually, when we do, we simply accept it. Perhaps we grumble some, here or there, but we never get angry enough to do anything.”

“Unless there’s a war,” said a silver-masked figure with a rich Torragonese accent. He shook his head. “I don’t like it either, but it needs to be something brazen, something that lays bare the truth.”

“I would rather a hundred thousand die in the span of a year and then so many less for the indefinite future,” added a woman in a green mask, “than continue as we are.” She shook her head. “Something has to give.”

They were all against him here: the adults - the people who knew better. For all their talk of ‘we’, it wouldn’t be them dying. A silence built. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly through its seconds. “So that’s it?” Benny demanded, “we don’t help when we can?”

“Try to see the bigger picture, Ciano,” said a scholarly voice. “If -”

“Our friend is right,” interjected an unexpected ally. It was Certosa - Jocasta. “It is important to see the bigger picture, but i would argue not only that. It is important to see all angles.” Benedetto bristled. Why was she speaking in support? She was not on his side. She never truly was. “If the students are allowed to publicly take control of the music box, then they are tied to it. They have taken a stand and, in doing so, divided the ruling class. They have made themselves a flashpoint and a target. We can use them to start undermining our overlords from within. Unlike you who are older and wiser, I have not yet given up hope that we might have our revolution with a great deal less bloodshed.” She glanced his way. “It is a hope that I believe Ciano shares.”

Benny scowled. “Don’t speak for me, Veleno.”

Their eyes met for a moment and then she looked away. This was a plan of hers, he knew, a trap. Jocasta was ever setting traps and he was her favourite prey. It had been that way since he had first arrived.

“The students will surely be martyred,” rumbled a man in a dark wooden mask, “and they are not the sort of martyrs that we need. They will make some doubt the course they've chosen and the necessity of our great work. A few decent-hearted individuals on the other side does not erase the need for them to fall as a whole.”

“Not all of them were born rich,” Benedetto reminded them.

“And not all here were born poor,” Jocasta added pointedly. That was it! It struck the boy that this would fail but she would fail with him. She would appear on his side, and then she would worm her way into his confidence and report all of his actions back to their seniors, as she had before. Jocasta was a snake. He couldn’t disavow her, though. Not now. They were always telling him to ‘behave’ and they were all hypocrites, for they were bad people, just like him, as soon as they left this room.

It was ten more minutes before that happened: ten minutes of pretend deliberation and discussion that was designed to lead to an inevitable conclusion: “thanks, boy. Now butt out and let the adults make the decisions.” He all but stormed out, fists clenching and unclenching themselves, and stood in the near-empty plaza. He could kill half of them, he knew. It was just the other half that was the problem. Benedetto spat on the ground and then Jocasta was beside him. She sat there under the moonlight with her porcelain face and her hands folded demurely on her lap. Her long, pretty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and… her chest. They were so big, and her waist was so small and her eyes bright and wide and… He scrunched his face up in a snarl. “What do you want, cripple?”

She ignored the insult. “A victory,” she sighed. “To actually be listened to.” She let out a snort. “How about you?”

Benny kicked at a pebble. “You can stop trying to be all friendly and shit.” He watched it skitter into the distance, across the cobblestones and past the small fountain. “I’m never gonna like you. I know you’ll just rat me out to them and they’ll all think you’re so fucking great. That’s what you do.”

He could feel her eyes upon him, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction of meeting them. He’d wait and let her seethe while she came up with some new plan for either getting into his confidence or under his skin.

“Whatever,” she said shortly, setting hands to wheels. He looked over as she turned and wheeled away, without even glancing back.

Crickets chirped and water splashed peacefully in the fountain. Fucking bitch. She kept hoping he’d forget: forget how she’d stepped over him - figuratively - within days of their first meeting, how she’d used him, how she’d betrayed him. Everyone had, really, and he wasn’t that convinced anymore that they were any better than the people they were supposed to be fighting against. If they wouldn’t give him the money, then he’d steal it. Benedetto gathered energy to himself and launched up into the sky, reveling in the cool of the wind on his skin, through his hair, and the flapping of his shirt. He’d steal what he needed, then. Stupid Ingrid and that asshole Desmond were actually doing the right thing. He’d steal the money to help them and because… fuck these people who thought they owned him.

He continued heading north, away from Mudville and out over Ersand’Enise. There’d been some fight in the Workman’s Quarter earlier in the evening. A half-dozen people had died. It had taken twenty minutes before help had arrived because the school’s people didn’t patrol the Workman’s Quarter. Everyone would talk about it the next day, of course: what epic magic was used and all that shit and, yeah, that pretty cool, but they'd hardly waste a breath on the people who died because those people weren’t special. They didn’t have magic. The sum of their lives would be six: the number of casualties, to show everyone how bad it had been and how heroic the people who’d stopped it were.

The boy's fists clenched and unclenched. If the past few months had taught him anything, it’s that he was strong, but not the strongest. There were some people who he just couldn’t go up against - not yet. He had to find another way to…

Then, Benedetto got an idea: an idea that could change everything.


In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Dragon: Street Hoghs

Whatever wonders the Iron City of the Hegelans had to offer, racers had to imbibe them as they ran, for it was now all to play for in this final leg of the race. The labyrinthine streets of Hogh Munkhelad, at times grand and open, at junctures narrow and claustrophobic, were inevitably confusing for the new arrivals. They were made even more so by the addition of barriers, blockades, and purposely unreliable signage. Dozens of people of a species most had never encountered before and some had never even heard of peered eagerly down from windows and balconies, pointing, clapping, and shouting. Others ran alongside them, some allies and some given the task of becoming obstacles.

Charging through the portal, the students who'd come from Longwan had the luxury of awe and exploration. Their peers who'd been waiting for the past hour did not. They had been balances on a knife edge of anticipation for almost as long as they'd been here, and now they took off. While some relied on brute power, others hoped for fortune and treasure, and some leaned into special talents and abilities, there were those who took a methodical approach to finding the five token stations and the five gates they would need to pass through.

And yet, for all of the teammates simply carried as deadweight instead of having their talents utilized, for all of the crashed rickshaws, lost 'geniuses', sneaky plans quickly debunked, and great efforts not quite rewarded with results, Vyshta once again had her say, and not in the form of Tyrel'yrash, whose magic did much - but not quite enough - to overcome her physical shortcomings. A free gate key allowed Yulia Vasilieva to skip an entire step and steal the lead from Marlijn Vaanse. Silas Reiger and Ahrora Babayeva's teamwork, nimbleness, familiarity with the region, and shameless sabotage allowed them to leapfrog well ahead as well, and not without the help of some Powergazer energy detection.

Sometimes, there's no substitute for being lucky. Sometimes, there's no substitute for being good. It came down to a footrace, with all of the top five finishers in sight of one another in a flat-out sprint. In this, the Vossoriyan Sanguinaire held off her hard-charging Kaganese opponent, Zarra Travendour burst from the greyborn dimension for a last-second kinetic boost that saw him leave his one-legged teammate in the dust and nearly saw him poach the lead, and Marlijn Vaanse was simply outclassed in raw power and not quite able to close the gap. You Could Never-Shortlisted took the win and, with it, the crucial 200 point finish bonus, SYCAMORE-Good Guy Team came from way back in the pack to claim second and a crucial fourth-place finish overall with their late charge, and Snaked and Afraid-Vyshta's Favoured edged out Lucky Seven-Sea People and Heartstoppers-Skull & Crossbones, who came in as a pair just as they'd started.

The cavernous underground city erupted in cheers and celebrations at the finish of The Dragon of DZ54 and the first public step in the opening of their cloistered civilization to the rest of the world. Other teams finished over the proceeding half hour, hearty drinks and congratulations handed to all. For some, these felt well-deserved; for others, they couldn't help but ring a bit hollow. The medal ceremony was held then and there, in Hogh Munkhelad, with the Zenith and three Arch-Zenos in attendance. The high finishers reaped the rewards, while others went back to the drawing board, worried that their chances of that much coveted top five overall finish were fast slipping out of reach. They would have a chance to redeem themselves tomorrow in the next event of The Trials: Roses & Neskals.






Next Up: Roses & Neskals
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Dragon: Invasive

The cold, snow-covered people who burst through the portal could not have looked more out of place amid their tropical surroundings. Waves gently rolled in and out beneath a star-filled sky, revelers laughed and clapped, and fireworks echoed in the near distance. The moment that their teammates arrived, however, the racers here were ready, and had been for quite some time. They darted off into the darkened jungle, hurling light and magics before them, pursuing their quarry after already having - in many cases - pestered the locals for what they knew of the invasive little pigs that they were to capture.

While much searching for treasure was done and interesting discoveries were made, many of the teams here employed similar strategies, relying on Chemical magic, local knowledge, and the natural environment to lure the micropigs over and put them to sleep. The speed and effectiveness they did this proved largely dependent upon how much they were bent on searching and how well they made their prey come to them. A raw carrot is one thing. An enticing aroma, spread unnaturally far and enhanced with magic is quite another.

It was the Lucky Seven-Sea People alliance who combined this optimal strategy best with luck when they found a crate of four pigs already captured, allowing them to cruise to an easy victory. Many other teams enjoyed similar though lesser success, and it was - in general - an odd sort of race: no distances or speeds to be measured, but a task to be completed instead. The only alliance who notably went belly-up were the VOID-Crusaders, whose shrimp dog, Eek, seemed very alarmed by something in the water and had to be actively corralled multiple times, taking up nearly all of Yaufin’s efforts and forcing Ysilla to divert many of her puppets, which had already been struggling to grab the small, quick animals.

As frustrating as things were, the tarpit lurkers were less of a hazard at night, being notably less active, and the series of torches set up made it easy for teams to find their way back. Snaked and Afraid-Vyshta’s Favoured were quick, as were Xicallicoatl-Gunboat Diplomats, Heartstoppers-Skull & Crossbones, and You Could Never-Shortlisted. In the end, though, it proved a poor round for frontrunners, as overall points leaders Void-Crusaders crashed and burned and Afraval’s alliance fell out of first position for the first time since the opening leg.

With dozens of youths rushing through the hotly-anticipated portal to the exotic locale of Hogh Munkhelad, they had different goals: some vied for first place, others for redemption, and still others desperately trying to break into the top five, regroup, or hold off the charge of a fast-gaining team below them. It was all to play for. Soon.


The Micropig. Kill one and you're officially going to Oraff's Hell.





Next Up: Street Hoghs!

In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Dragon: The Dragonspine

They were welcomed by howling winds, crunching mud, and whipping cold, but also by warmth. As the desert racers bundled through the portal, they were quickly wrapped in warm quilts and provided with hot cider, waterproof boot-covers, and all of the hospitality that this distant corner of Eskand could muster. If the land was poor in wealth and luxuries, it was rich in spirit and conduct.

Their arrival caught some by surprise. It was easy to retreat into a comfortable haze of quilts, cider, and conversation, but those who knew this place and understood the nature of the competition recognized the importance of staying limber and acclimating. Those who started ‘cold’ started better.

Quickly, an invigorating hike turned into an exhausting slog. A shallow incline turned into a steep one and, even further, into a perilous vertical. Powerful gusting winds whipped snow into the climbers’ faces and picks dug into rock and ice alike for purchase. Great white dragons circled overhead, a looming threat, and treacherous fissures promised a quick and painful fall or else cruel and opportunistic creatures that lurked unseen. Before long, sparse shrubs and mosses gave way to hardy lichens. In turn, these submitted to bald rock.

Yet, this was not an exercise so cut and dried as those that had come before it. While all competitors were given a wooden board, rope with grappling hook, and set of picks, they were not forbidden from bringing equipment of their own. Ashon of VOID-Crusaders came with his Dervish gear. Ghaven of You Could Never-Shortlisted wore his runic items with pride and purpose. Ingrid and Sven, both Eskandish, had their own gear to supplement what they’d been provided. Perhaps the strangest and most novel, though, was Trypano Somia and Chimalpepech of Xicallicaotl-Gunboat Diplomats. They came with… more or less a bobsled and a great deal of Kinetic Gift to use.

There were some, such as the Hegelan, Ghaven, antigravity mage Ashon, and mana-enhanced powerhouse Augusto who were never not going to thrive. The discovery of helpful items along the way certainly did not hurt the chances of many of these frontrunners and their partners. Yet there were those who suffered. Some fifty racers would have fallen to their deaths were it not for the intervention of local safety crews. For all of its speed, the bobsled nearly crashed multiple times due to sabotage and the naturally-occurring fissures. Summit pegs were hidden and frozen to the ground, ropes were cut, and avalanches were started. Were it not for the Gift, the majority of teams would not have had so much as a hope of completing the challenge. Indeed, some did not even appear particularly interested in doing so, so ardent was their search for treasures. Sven Bjornsson, both competitor and local, came away with the egg of a Grand Mountain Serpent, abandoned in a hollow just off-course by its mother. Rope dragons attacked these explorers almost at will, but even those who stayed on course were not immune to their attentions. The beasts had to be fought off by staff and students alike.

It was not these that caused the single greatest calamity, however. That distinction lay with Benedetto Corvi of Lucky Seven-Sea People. Harassed by a juvenile Tyrannus Monsigneus, he took the dragon on in single combat and slew it upon the mountain, rendering a large section of the course near-impassable for some time.

The leaders were already ahead, however. Hopped up on a series of boons, adrenaline, and natural abilities, they clambered, skied, or slid down the mountainside with varying degrees of grace and competence, some - like near-local Ingrid Penderson of Snaked and Afraid-Vyshta’s Favoured - treating the massive ski jump as an experience.

When all was said and done, however, it was You Could Never-Shortlisted who once again crossed the line first. Lucky Seven-Sea People lost further ground, Xicallicoatl-Gunboat Diplomats gained, and the racers plunged through their third portal with some hopes waxing while others waned.




Next Up: Invasive!
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Dragon: Burdensome Beasts

The Dune Sea of Torragon is a blinding place. They stumbled into it from the sea of the setting sun and it burned their eyes. Sand lashed at their faces and a heat almost too intense to be real slammed into them from all sides. It was no exaggeration whatsoever to characterize it as oppressive.

The students whose task it was to coax the large hesitant tortoises known as Halassa across the finish line two kilometers distant had been given time to adjust. Those who were wise were already mounted. Some had taken time to learn the ropes, for there were locals among them, milling around behind the start line and in the nearby desert, under temporary awnings and tents, in the shelter of alcoves and overhangs in the near-distant cliffs.

It was, by and large, a fiasco. The stubborn beasts would not budge for many. For others, they simply wandered off in a seemingly random direction, driven by some unknown instinct or simply the allure of a distant food source. A couple of halassa attacked each other. Others lay down.

There were those among them, however, who understood the creatures and others who at least knew how to entice them. A handful used brute force, shifting the halassa against their will through the power of the Gift. It was unlike the previous leg of the race; people ebbed and flowed, gained and lost. Tentative holds over the beasts were annihilated by sabotage and the distant screams and ominous shadows of the circling froabases, both wild and tamed. If some elements in the race were planned, the deserts of Torragon would also have their say.

The racers plunged into a valley of scraggly thorns, rocky crags, and sparse vegetation - positively lush by the standards of this wasteland - and then into a tangle of vast dark caves. Here, they searched in earnest for hidden treasures and, of those who left in good order, many left enriched in some way. Few climbed the stark line of cacti that lay baking in the desert sun; for this, they had long ago made clever plans. The gravel slope proved a gut check. Animals rebelled. Some rested, some searched for water, some threw their riders, and others simply avoided the incline.

The riders found solutions, however. Some fused the unstable shale with Binding or Arcane magics. Some boosted or even lifted their mounts with Kinetic. Others lured them with sights and smells that they could not pass up on. People strapped themselves in or glued their clothing to halassa shells in their determination. Cresting the hill, a leading pack emerged, jockeying ferociously for position, throwing kinetic shoves at riders and mounts alike, tempting the halassa with food or water, scaring them with loud noises, bright flashes, or pebbles near the eye. The froabases created yet more chaos, but that was mostly among the trailing group, raggedly strung out now across the wastes. Jocasta of the Gunboat Diplomat-Xicallicoatl alliance led, through sheer force of magic, followed by Nazih Iqbal of Heartstoppers-Skull & Crossbones, Isabella Lowell of VOID-Coastal Crusaders, and Zarina Al-Nader of You Could Never-Shortlisted. Yo’ldoshoy Yo’ldosheva of SYCAMORE-Good Guy Team raced to gain ground having finally left her eeaiko partner behind.

The final two hundred meters proved the true test, however, where mounts had to be actively ridden and controlled. Jocasta fell off the pace and Beastwhisperer Zarina was able to pull ahead, pipping Nazih at the line. Youths dismounted gratefully or regretfully the moment that they crossed that chalky swathe of pebbles, swinging off the backs of the halassa and racing through the swirling portal ahead. They emerged from perfect heat into perfect cold, some alliances having gained, some having lost, others right where they’d been earlier. At least the blustery wind had not changed.




Next Up: The Dragonspine!
In The Hourglass Order → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Dragon: Deep Blue Sea

They arrived at their starting places: two hundred fifty-six teams in one hundred twenty-eight alliances. For some, there would be a substantial wait. They wandered the nearby environs, mingled with the locals, and took souvenirs. In each of five locations, a portal zapped and swirled, wondrous and enticing. They talked, taunted, and took friendly bets on who would be coming through to meet them first. A sort of casal paranoia prevailed: nobody wanted to walk too far, lest they not be perfectly prepared when their teammate came bursting through to tag them.

For those in the Rainbow Sea, the wait was a great deal shorter. The enormous floating platform that they stood on bobbed gently up and down on the calm waters of Western Callanast, truthfully eight separate rafts lashed fast and lazily undulating on the gentle waves. Gulls wheeled and bleated overhead and the sun began its final plunge towards the horizon, vast and golden. Then, the Grand Chief of the Ahach stood tall before them and a thousand or more eyes came fixed upon his form. His arms dropped, a pistol sounded, and, without further ceremony, two hundred fifty-six youths plunged into the lukewarm waters off the island’s north shore.

Many were competent swimmers, but it wasn’t long before a handful had distanced themselves from the rest. Eeaiko and hyrdomancers, this small group surged ahead, throwing distractions, inconveniences, and sabotage in the paths of their opponents. A second pack developed behind them, scrappy and talented in their own right, vying for the precious points offered by a fast finish and high placement.

Through the sets of rings they surged, many completing all three in a single dive, for such were the immense advantages provided by the Gift. They siphoned the heat from the hydrothermal vents and battered their way relentlessly through the kelp forest. Local wildlife and curious eeaiko onlookers shied from their paths. With varying degrees of grace, they leapt, scrambled, and climbed through the hoop raised above the water, ruthless in their sabotage of each other. For those who led, it was a simpler matter. They did not have to contend with a gauntlet of hostile action and clever trickery. Employing a mixture of magic and natural ability, they made quick work of the whirlpool, grabbed their tokens, and moved on. The others found themselves dunked deeper, the tokens rendered invisible by illusion, or battered by opponents’ magic.

The water became crisp and frigid as they neared the finish, a test of thermal magics, tactical acumen, and willpower. It was the Lucky Seven Sea People alliance in the lead, hotly followed by VOID-Coastal Crusaders and the Xicallicoatl along with the Gunboat Diplomats, victors in the previous event and overall point leaders. The massive wall of ice that loomed before them stood little chance. With fury and ingenuity, they battered, melted, and unbound it. Others gained on them, but it was not enough. The slower members fell out of the lead pack. Teams You Could Never, Snaked and Afraid, and SYCAMORE entered the conversation, taking advantage of existing weaknesses in the ice. In the end, it was too little and too late. In a near photo finish, it was Aktichak, Acoatl, Auvam, and Owain at the line. They stumbled onto a beach as the sun set and leapt through a portal into the desert. A dozen other swimmers joined them within the next thirty seconds. The race remained anyone’s.




Next Up: Burdensome Beasts!
In O R I F L A M M E → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Act Three: Victors and Vanquished

With our second act coming to a conclusion, we reach the halfway point in our story. The Parrench would appear to be on he front foot, but the Eskandr have both been galvanized and gotten the jump on their enemies in some areas. Two new fronts open up in the conflict and it is time to decide where your characters will see their next action. Please place yourself in one of the two options using this document by Tuesday.
Siege of Chamonix

Having given all of its men and resources to the war effort and the defense of Relouse, the great city of Chamonix, a bastion of learning and culture in the east of Parrence, now stands virtually undefended before the Eskandr hordes of King Hrothgar the Black, save for its redoubtable walls. To its rescue rushes King Arcel and his sizable army, evenly matched with that of the heathens. However, a clever mixture of trickery and treachery has allowed a second Eskandr army, under the command of Sweyn Thunderspear, to approach the Parrench from behind, trapping them between the two forces. It now appears that not only the city but also the king may need to be rescued. The ragged remnants of Queen Eleanor’s army, ultimately victorious but devastated by dragon’s fyre, attempt to lend their aid, along with an irregular force drawn from the surrounding countryside of Green Parrence. The fate of the nation could very well be at stake. If Chamonix falls, it is likely that the east of the country goes with it. If Arcel falls, Parrence just might splinter entirely.
Committed NPCs

Hrothgar the Black
Arcel de Parrence
Eleanor de Perpignan
Sweyn Thunderspear
The Nashorn
Talit'yrash'osmax
Perceval de Perpignan

Drudgunzean Marches

The Kressian Marches stab into the underbelly of Parrence like a dagger in the hand of the country’s enemies. Emboldened by a fresh wave of recruits, the Eskandr march northward, led by Queen Astrid on dragonback. Joined at the Kressian border by troops from their newly-committed ally, led by Dietrich von Sturmfeld, they aim to strike from below, in an area left less defended due to the urgency of the situation out East. It is known by all that the capital, Solenne, is not so very far north of this region, and if the capital falls, so does the country, by all rights. Arcel and Eleanor are both distant. Many of Parrence’s most famous champions are fighting in various campaigns nowhere near Drudgunze. Messengers from Solenne have sent out urgent summons for more soldiers and letters of exhortation to King Otto of Lindermetz, their nominal ally to the west of Kressia, to intervene. The Drudgunzean king is an inscrutable man, however. The situation may indeed be a dire one.
Committed NPCs

Sir Rodric, The Laughing Knight
Otto of Lindermetz
Thorunn Silverhair
Astrid Fireborn
Gudrid Fangtooth
Bjorn Coldfist
The Skyygge

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