Hey, who says Azra's methods of kicking and shouting the unconsciousness out of the goblin were going to fail?
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K A S S A R O C K | 29 | M | GMT |
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| Greetings friends, partners, enemies, acquaintances, and strangers. I am Kassarock, or just Kass if you prefer, welcome to my profile. Anyway, I am a 20 something male roleplayer from the UK and a long time user of the site, although I have come and gone a fair bit over my time here. I used to be more active on the old site, and I still am relatively active in the off topic sections today, as well as in the guild's discord. So you might see me around. I generally consider myself to be an advanced writer, I pretty much always write multiple paragraphs, and will drop walls of text if the mood takes me. My grammar is okay, but not formally perfect, so I do not expect that from my partners either. I normally like quite dark and dramatic themes in terms of content in my roleplays, regardless of genre. Unless I have got an interest check up, or have messaged you, I am not usually looking for new partners to write with. I think that covers just about everything. Message me if you want to know more. | Original Join Date: 07/04/2009 Advanced, Casual, 1x1, Nation, Tabletop Historical, Fantasy, Sci-fi, Romance, Drama Writer, Archaeologist, Cymro .............................................................................................................. |
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Azra Flametongue
Azra took another couple of steps closer toward the unconscious goblin. He gazed down at it somewhat unsurely. Azra had some small experience with unconscious people, but mainly when they were too worse for wear of the drink, rather than truly on the brink of death. Still, might as well try. When he was standing directly above it, the tiefling prodded the goblin with the tip of one boot, in an attempt to wake the creature.
"Ermm... excuse me... Are you dead? It's just we had a few questions that we would like to ask you ab-" Azra stopped midsentence and shook his head. After a moment he raised one hand and slapped himself across the forehead. "Oops sorry, I forgot it was a goblin."
He stopped and cleared his throat loudly.
"EX-CUSE ME! ARE YOU DEAD?! HAVE QUEST-ION FOR YOU! WHERE GUN-DREN?!" Azra mimed the act of looking around for something before doing his best impression of a dwarf. "HOW MANY GOB-LINS?! WHERE IS YOUR LAIR?!"
I don't think there's any kind of ruling when it comes to understanding a language you can't speak, or making yourself understood to someone who doesn't speak your language? Could we possibly make some kind of skill check for that DM?
Of course, the goblins might just speak common.
Of course, the goblins might just speak common.
Azra Flametongue
"Horned monkey? Horned monkey!?" Azra rounded on the eladrin, his caprid eyes burning with an internal fire, like that of funeral pyre behind him. Combined with his great curved horns, sharp pointed teeth, and scarlet coloured skin, could be quite the intimidating to the uninitiated. He got right up to the elf, mere inches from his face... before he fell about laughing.
"Ahaha! Horned monkey? I haven't heard that one in years! Really, really I haven't! Not since I was aboard the Gannet and that little ape the cook kept... or wait, was it the the quarter master? Anyway, doesn't matter, point is that the monkey got into the cargo hold which at the time was full dyeing powders bound for Waterdeep, turned all its fur crimson. Those bastards strapped a pair forks to its head and pretended the damn thing was me for the best part of a week."
The rest of the story trailed off in an series of increasingly intelligible giggling. When Azra finally pulled himself together, wiping the tears from his eyes, he pulled himself up straight and gave the eladrin a friendly slap on the arm.
"Well, harm no foul. Err.. to me at least. So we're good in my book. Ha, get it? Book." Azra winked and gave him a nudge with his elbow. Turning toward the unconscious goblin he continued: "As for this little scrote, I say chuck him on the pyre, unless we need him to find Gundren?"
At no point did Azra address the issue of sharing out the money he had stolen.
Working on something ATM
And the implication about her brother Ravus being involved in Athos's murder, that was juicy. If it is true, I wonder how he views Elise and Ozragad's marriage, and more importantly any child they might have, who could have a claim to the throne of Eorzia.
Really great post, opens up so much stuff! I am excited!
Really great post, opens up so much stuff! I am excited!
Haha, oh wow, okay I wasn't expecting that actually. I thought the scar was gonna have something to do with Elise being suicidal at some point in her past, maybe in relation to what happened with her brother's death or some other such trauma. But this cool, I feel like this is going to be a real bonding moment for them, even if it is over some pretty awful stuff.
Ozragad listened as the Princess opened up to him. It... it had not been what had expecting. He had merely wanted reassurance that whatever it was that was troubling her was not going to get in the way of his planned piece of political propaganda. Instead she had bared her inner thoughts and fears to him. He did not know if he managed to keep the look of surprise from his face. But was it really so surprising, not her confiding in him, but that the stress and anxiety caused by the assassination attempt would be weighing heavily on her mind. So do you believe she is innocent now, or do you think this is just another ploy?
And then that question she asked him, what was on his mind? When was the last time he divulged his private thoughts to anyone other than Manawyndan? And to you even trust him enough to do that anymore? When was the last time he had an honest conversation without all the powerplays, the politics, the deception? He honestly could not say. Not for many, many years. Probably not truly since Liveuta had left him. Ah there you go, tell her that, tell her your are thinking about another woman. A better woman.
For a while they rode on in silence down the stony track, passing over a small brook that came tumbling down from the rocky hills above. The King mulled that question over in his mind again and again. Eventually he spoke, his voice still low, a bitter note to the words.
"I am thinking about all the people I used to trust, and why they seem to be so few these days." A half truth, he was thinking about a particular person he once would have trusted with all his heart, and he knew exactly why she was gone. "This is by no means the first time someone has tried to kill me. I remember feeling so afraid the first time, I was only a child then, but it gets less the longer you keep surviving. I suppose you get used to it, in time."
He cleared his throat and craned his neck to observe what the rest of the party was doing as they spoke. Lord Iria jested with an annoyed looking Lord Urathon, whilst Manawyndan watched the King and the Princess like a hawk from nearby. Lady Cheladrine seemed to be arguing with her eldest, Elethiomel. Her younger son was bothering the irate Captain Rhiathon, who in turn scanned the horizon for the outriders she had sent ahead to scout their path.
"Was that your first brush with death, Princess? Or have you tasted it before?" He turned his golden gaze back towards her. He found suddenly that he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to trust someone else.
And then that question she asked him, what was on his mind? When was the last time he divulged his private thoughts to anyone other than Manawyndan? And to you even trust him enough to do that anymore? When was the last time he had an honest conversation without all the powerplays, the politics, the deception? He honestly could not say. Not for many, many years. Probably not truly since Liveuta had left him. Ah there you go, tell her that, tell her your are thinking about another woman. A better woman.
For a while they rode on in silence down the stony track, passing over a small brook that came tumbling down from the rocky hills above. The King mulled that question over in his mind again and again. Eventually he spoke, his voice still low, a bitter note to the words.
"I am thinking about all the people I used to trust, and why they seem to be so few these days." A half truth, he was thinking about a particular person he once would have trusted with all his heart, and he knew exactly why she was gone. "This is by no means the first time someone has tried to kill me. I remember feeling so afraid the first time, I was only a child then, but it gets less the longer you keep surviving. I suppose you get used to it, in time."
He cleared his throat and craned his neck to observe what the rest of the party was doing as they spoke. Lord Iria jested with an annoyed looking Lord Urathon, whilst Manawyndan watched the King and the Princess like a hawk from nearby. Lady Cheladrine seemed to be arguing with her eldest, Elethiomel. Her younger son was bothering the irate Captain Rhiathon, who in turn scanned the horizon for the outriders she had sent ahead to scout their path.
"Was that your first brush with death, Princess? Or have you tasted it before?" He turned his golden gaze back towards her. He found suddenly that he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to trust someone else.
Yeah hopefully this upcoming scene will help flesh out a few of them other than Manawyndan and Lady Cheldarine.
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