And I'm back with a post. I hope to be a lot more regular from now on.
Gigan Member
M Space Hunter Nebula
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Vos smiled as he watched the elder smith shoot down the advances of the young Siwa, wondering if he was so earnest about a mating when he was her age. With one last chuckle, Vos made his way out of the doorway of the forge and back into the larger village.
Once again the glare of the the sun aggravated his inebriated head as he made his way toward the Shaman’s hut. Perhaps the Shaman had a tincture or herb that could help with the pounding of his head. Vos hoped so as he approached the large hut that was covered in bones and relics.
Before Vos could even knock on the door, a thin elderly goblin emerged from it, “What do you want?”
Vos was initially confused at who this was, his mind still murky from the wine. However, after a few seconds he placed a name to the face. This was Tiglib, assistant to the village Shaman.
“Tiglib. Is the Shaman in?” Vos asked.
“No, not in. Gone to meet with Shaman of the goblins west of here.” Tiglib stated.
Vos sighed. With those kind of meetings, the Shaman could be gone for several days. How was Vos supposed to learn from him if he was never here. Vos gave a half-hearted smile to the elder goblin.
“Well let me know when he gets back.”
Tiglib nodded, then retreated back into the hut. Vos turned back toward the village, formulating a plan on what to do with the rest of the day. He figured that he was too hungover to go hunt, so perhaps staying in the village would be the best choice.
Vos decided to head for the centre of the village, where the warriors too old to hunt congregated. Vos entered the group and proceeded to make small talk and then shared stories of battles past. That was good enough for about an hour before the older goblins ran out of interesting stories. Vos politely excused himself from the conversation and went back to his hut. He decided that since today was a write off he would just sleep the rest of the day.
Once back in his hut, Vos quickly fell asleep on the ground. Next thing he knew, it was nighttime, and he had to take a piss. Vos got up and left his tent so that he could go and relieve himself. However, as he was doing so, he heard shouts coming from the outskirts of the village.
Shouting an expletive, Vos rushed to grab his axe from his hut, unsure if the village was being attacked. With the speed of a warrior several years younger than he was, Vos made his way to the edge of the settlement. There he saw the collapsed body of a fellow warrior. With a much clearer mind now, Vos immediately recognized him as Griz.
“What happened?” Vos asked one of the goblins gathered around the downed goblin.
Once again the glare of the the sun aggravated his inebriated head as he made his way toward the Shaman’s hut. Perhaps the Shaman had a tincture or herb that could help with the pounding of his head. Vos hoped so as he approached the large hut that was covered in bones and relics.
Before Vos could even knock on the door, a thin elderly goblin emerged from it, “What do you want?”
Vos was initially confused at who this was, his mind still murky from the wine. However, after a few seconds he placed a name to the face. This was Tiglib, assistant to the village Shaman.
“Tiglib. Is the Shaman in?” Vos asked.
“No, not in. Gone to meet with Shaman of the goblins west of here.” Tiglib stated.
Vos sighed. With those kind of meetings, the Shaman could be gone for several days. How was Vos supposed to learn from him if he was never here. Vos gave a half-hearted smile to the elder goblin.
“Well let me know when he gets back.”
Tiglib nodded, then retreated back into the hut. Vos turned back toward the village, formulating a plan on what to do with the rest of the day. He figured that he was too hungover to go hunt, so perhaps staying in the village would be the best choice.
Vos decided to head for the centre of the village, where the warriors too old to hunt congregated. Vos entered the group and proceeded to make small talk and then shared stories of battles past. That was good enough for about an hour before the older goblins ran out of interesting stories. Vos politely excused himself from the conversation and went back to his hut. He decided that since today was a write off he would just sleep the rest of the day.
Once back in his hut, Vos quickly fell asleep on the ground. Next thing he knew, it was nighttime, and he had to take a piss. Vos got up and left his tent so that he could go and relieve himself. However, as he was doing so, he heard shouts coming from the outskirts of the village.
Shouting an expletive, Vos rushed to grab his axe from his hut, unsure if the village was being attacked. With the speed of a warrior several years younger than he was, Vos made his way to the edge of the settlement. There he saw the collapsed body of a fellow warrior. With a much clearer mind now, Vos immediately recognized him as Griz.
“What happened?” Vos asked one of the goblins gathered around the downed goblin.
@Skull
Sorry about disappearing, I've had health issues to deal with. As I am still interested in this game, I'll start work on a character, possibly a member of the Index Consortium, and post it as so as I am able.
Sorry about disappearing, I've had health issues to deal with. As I am still interested in this game, I'll start work on a character, possibly a member of the Index Consortium, and post it as so as I am able.
@Aristocles
Sorry about vanishing. Recurrent health issues flared up recently so I needed to take some time to deal with that. Anyways I'm about to read through the posts and work on my own, probably by tomorrow.
Sorry about vanishing. Recurrent health issues flared up recently so I needed to take some time to deal with that. Anyways I'm about to read through the posts and work on my own, probably by tomorrow.
Vos awoke, alone on the floor of an unfamiliar hut. A small fur blanket covered his equally small frame as he became lucid. As he stretched his limbs, he felt the familiar swirling in his head that came from a night of heavy drinking. As Vos tried to piece together the previous night, he spotted an empty bottle of Elven wine a few feet from where he lay, the answer to why his head was pounding. The hungover Goblin lifted himself off the floor of the hut, moving ever so slowly as to alleviate the spinning sensation. Vos then staggered his way out of the hut.
As Vos pushed open the cover to the hut, he immediately regretted it as the rays of the sun pierced right into his eyes. While it wasn’t an especially sunny day, the alcohol in the Goblin warrior’s system amplified it a hundred fold. Vos covered his eyes with his hands as he waited for his eyes to acclimate to the bright morning. Eventually the pain from the Sun’s light faded to a level where Vos could function, as he removed his hands from his face.
The first thing he then did was to turn around and see who’s hut he had just exited. While most Goblin huts would seem identical to other races, to the eyes of a Goblin there would be many tell-tale identifiers, especially if one was in the village of their birth. Due to that knowledge, Vos recognized it as the home of the sisters Jut and Muk. Upon realizing who’s home it was, Vos briefly remembered some of the night before, but only some. He had just made a successful trade with some elves, explaining the Elven wine, and decided to share it with whichever female would be willing.
The question now was whether that was Jut or Muk? With how similar they appeared, and how hazy his recollection was, Vos couldn’t be sure. Whichever sister it was, they clearly held their alcohol better than Vos, as they had already gone to work today. A hard working woman like that might be a good mother to his young, thought Vos, if the fruits of the previous night took root. Being the venerable age of ten, Vos has sired many a litter in his time, sure that his bloodline would continue. But Vos wondered about how many more young he could produce.
Vos was in something of a mid-life crisis, unsure of what his mark would be on his village. He had been a warrior for the majority of his life, but there were many Goblin warriors. While some considered dying in battle the greatest legacy one may leave for their village, Vos was not so sure anymore. Wanting to be something more, Vos had turned his eyes toward something else. His long-standing interest in the rituals of his people had pointed him in the direction of the village shaman.
Vos had secretly been trying to learn all the knowledge of the shaman, so that one day he may replace them. Of course he was still a long way off from being ready, but he was still persistent in his quest for knowledge. Figuring that he was still too drunk to hunt today, Vos decided that he would hang around the shaman today, hoping that the alcohol had not affected his ability to learn.
The older Goblin warrior set out for the shaman’s hut, a decent walk as it lie on the other side of the village. The bandolier he wore of bones, artifacts, and trinkets, made a clinking sound as Vos set out, the outfit piece a sign of his interest in magic. Along his path he neared the smith’s hut, but what caught Vos’s eye was Siwa, one of the more attractive young Goblin women. She was young enough that he might not have even birthed one litter. As he eyed her, Siwa stepped into the smith’s hut, leaving a dejected young male outside. Vos wasn’t sure how Koglan did it, even in his advanced age he still attracted the females of the village. Perhaps it was in due part to his physique, as his chest looked like that of a warrior in his prime.
Vos chuckled as he approached the younger male outside the smith, Breden was his name. “Yet another impressionable young beauty, enticed by the old man of the hammer,” Vos mused, “Perhaps he bought a charm or some other glamour that makes him so interesting to them?”
As Vos pushed open the cover to the hut, he immediately regretted it as the rays of the sun pierced right into his eyes. While it wasn’t an especially sunny day, the alcohol in the Goblin warrior’s system amplified it a hundred fold. Vos covered his eyes with his hands as he waited for his eyes to acclimate to the bright morning. Eventually the pain from the Sun’s light faded to a level where Vos could function, as he removed his hands from his face.
The first thing he then did was to turn around and see who’s hut he had just exited. While most Goblin huts would seem identical to other races, to the eyes of a Goblin there would be many tell-tale identifiers, especially if one was in the village of their birth. Due to that knowledge, Vos recognized it as the home of the sisters Jut and Muk. Upon realizing who’s home it was, Vos briefly remembered some of the night before, but only some. He had just made a successful trade with some elves, explaining the Elven wine, and decided to share it with whichever female would be willing.
The question now was whether that was Jut or Muk? With how similar they appeared, and how hazy his recollection was, Vos couldn’t be sure. Whichever sister it was, they clearly held their alcohol better than Vos, as they had already gone to work today. A hard working woman like that might be a good mother to his young, thought Vos, if the fruits of the previous night took root. Being the venerable age of ten, Vos has sired many a litter in his time, sure that his bloodline would continue. But Vos wondered about how many more young he could produce.
Vos was in something of a mid-life crisis, unsure of what his mark would be on his village. He had been a warrior for the majority of his life, but there were many Goblin warriors. While some considered dying in battle the greatest legacy one may leave for their village, Vos was not so sure anymore. Wanting to be something more, Vos had turned his eyes toward something else. His long-standing interest in the rituals of his people had pointed him in the direction of the village shaman.
Vos had secretly been trying to learn all the knowledge of the shaman, so that one day he may replace them. Of course he was still a long way off from being ready, but he was still persistent in his quest for knowledge. Figuring that he was still too drunk to hunt today, Vos decided that he would hang around the shaman today, hoping that the alcohol had not affected his ability to learn.
The older Goblin warrior set out for the shaman’s hut, a decent walk as it lie on the other side of the village. The bandolier he wore of bones, artifacts, and trinkets, made a clinking sound as Vos set out, the outfit piece a sign of his interest in magic. Along his path he neared the smith’s hut, but what caught Vos’s eye was Siwa, one of the more attractive young Goblin women. She was young enough that he might not have even birthed one litter. As he eyed her, Siwa stepped into the smith’s hut, leaving a dejected young male outside. Vos wasn’t sure how Koglan did it, even in his advanced age he still attracted the females of the village. Perhaps it was in due part to his physique, as his chest looked like that of a warrior in his prime.
Vos chuckled as he approached the younger male outside the smith, Breden was his name. “Yet another impressionable young beauty, enticed by the old man of the hammer,” Vos mused, “Perhaps he bought a charm or some other glamour that makes him so interesting to them?”
This sounds really interesting as I love old monster movies. Really digging the idea of playing a cyborg Frankenstein's Monster.
Thanks for answering my questions guys. As I've never played Armored Core I guess I'll have to do some research into it.
Hey, is this still a thing?
Just posted a character sheet.
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