LeeRoy
NytefallI should have trouble with your character's dialect, but honestly, one of the guys I work with actually speaks like that. Reading an extreme Scottish accent is far easier than trying to decipher it in real time.
MelonHead
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Mostly given up on this post by post business
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As Fury's stride carried him towards the ship, he dropped a little ways into the crater, sensing a living soul within the confines of the ship. He made no effort to call him out, the ship was crippled, he wasn't going anywhere, so the man instead placed himself just outside the entry-way and tapped his foot on the ground, mute. Waiting. Though not for long.
The Fireen’s eyes narrowed as the tall, bulky, humanoid stepped gingerly out into the open air. He was as true as his word, there was an unusual mace tethered to his body, and Fury’s gaze was fixed upon it. His face was marked with a frown as he slowly glanced upwards to regard the creature who had presumably been the pilot of the ship. For a moment, the Fireen looked disappointed with what he saw. Tall, too tall, with hooves rather than ordinary feet and a strangely hairy body. He looked like a satyr, in a way, though the man stood before him knew nothing of Greek mythology and was incapable of making the comparison.
“Who are you?”
The Fireen’s eyes narrowed as the tall, bulky, humanoid stepped gingerly out into the open air. He was as true as his word, there was an unusual mace tethered to his body, and Fury’s gaze was fixed upon it. His face was marked with a frown as he slowly glanced upwards to regard the creature who had presumably been the pilot of the ship. For a moment, the Fireen looked disappointed with what he saw. Tall, too tall, with hooves rather than ordinary feet and a strangely hairy body. He looked like a satyr, in a way, though the man stood before him knew nothing of Greek mythology and was incapable of making the comparison.
“Who are you?”
You ever notice how we all congregate to the chat thread, talk a lot, even pitch fights. But when push comes to shove, we're not that active of a board?
I mean it's weird, Skallagrim starts a thread and everyone flocks to it like flies to shit.
Rilla starts a thread and boom we're crawling on it like maggots on meat.
But anyone else? Death sentence from day one.
WHy is that?
They made the Arena what it is on RPG, basically built it up from the ground-up. Most if not all of the people who've been here for over a year have participated in things run by one of those two before, some only started Arena combat because of them.
Point being, they've earned their reputation, vulgar analogies aside, and most people respect them for it.
Let's face it, there aren't that many of us congregating in this chat thread anymore, there's maybe, three regulars still around, that's it. At its peak this chat had maybe ten to fifteen people in it regularly. Sometimes losing the Old Guard is beneficial, but evidently that wasn't the case in this community.
I suppose there might have been other reasons, but it seems like the drop-off of player-base directly correlated with Skallagrim and Rilla's absence, perhaps alongside the inevitable decline after the sharp peak brought about by the new ranking system. Though I suppose you'd have to ask those people personally why they're not interested any more to know for sure.
Just thought I'd pop in, let everyone know I'm still in this, just done for this season.
I am working on a new, somewhat different style of character (to my first) for the second season coming up, something or someone that can deal with all the big-bads we've been picking up recently, someone who can make a little more 'visible' impact in the world. Though Silence will also be returning in all his insidious glory.
Also keeping up with the story, interested to see how the two arcs wrap up. Looks like the heroes might win one, but will they win the other? Not so sure.
I am working on a new, somewhat different style of character (to my first) for the second season coming up, something or someone that can deal with all the big-bads we've been picking up recently, someone who can make a little more 'visible' impact in the world. Though Silence will also be returning in all his insidious glory.
Also keeping up with the story, interested to see how the two arcs wrap up. Looks like the heroes might win one, but will they win the other? Not so sure.
Surprisingly, lacking the usual subtlety of his favoured entrance, the five man transport ship touched down gently on the planet’s surface a half-mile from the crashed vessel. Anyone who knew the warrior who called himself Fury would have been surprised indeed to see him step onto solid ground without his usual air of determined purpose, as if for once he hadn’t come to a place just to fight and kill someone. Perhaps that was the reason for it all? People rarely saw the man in any other light than that of a warrior, in fact, few knew the man at all. They only knew the myth, unless they were one of the unlucky few, in which case they knew the monster.
Regardless, he wasn’t even dressed for battle, which might have been a foolish oversight on his part. His armour was still being reconstructed, the World Machine was resisting the attempts to graft it to his suit, so instead he walked over in plain clothes. Or what passed for plain clothes on a military ship, in other words, strict officer attire. The Fireen did not seem conscious of his appearance, having been a military man before all of this it was not something he concerned himself with, he may rebel in action and even word, but to wear clothes properly was hardwired into his brain. He made an odd sight, his iridescent blue scars running across his face somehow looked at odds with ordinary clothing, and his mail armour suited that rugged image better in some ways.
Two armoured warriors stepped out from the ship behind him and took up guard positions, scanning the horizon. The sun beat down on them, hotter than was average, but by no means unbearable. There was scarce vegetation in the region, and it seemed mostly flat, some sort of savannah perhaps? Such was likely, as even from a half-mile away there was faint smoke and dust from what the Fireen presumed was the crash site. It was not the worst place he had ever seen, but Fury had no real interest in remaining on the planet for any longer than he had to. First though, his curiosity had to be satisfied.
He walked alone across the dusty, grassy, plain. No life rose to greet him, outside of the faint but oddly familiar energy signature pulsating up ahead. The ship perhaps had some life in it still, maybe he would find more pieces of technology not unlike that of the World Machine? His excitement piqued, there was a chance that something in the wreckage could increase the likelihood of successfully grafting the World Machine to his armour. Then… then he’d have a chance at taking his revenge. Or obtaining justice, however one wanted to colour it.
He did not move all that quickly, but even his ordinary stride was faster than the jog of an average man. He made a steady, inexorable progress across the plain towards the crater, and as he closed he felt more and more certain of what he was sensing. But how was such a thing possible?
Regardless, he wasn’t even dressed for battle, which might have been a foolish oversight on his part. His armour was still being reconstructed, the World Machine was resisting the attempts to graft it to his suit, so instead he walked over in plain clothes. Or what passed for plain clothes on a military ship, in other words, strict officer attire. The Fireen did not seem conscious of his appearance, having been a military man before all of this it was not something he concerned himself with, he may rebel in action and even word, but to wear clothes properly was hardwired into his brain. He made an odd sight, his iridescent blue scars running across his face somehow looked at odds with ordinary clothing, and his mail armour suited that rugged image better in some ways.
Two armoured warriors stepped out from the ship behind him and took up guard positions, scanning the horizon. The sun beat down on them, hotter than was average, but by no means unbearable. There was scarce vegetation in the region, and it seemed mostly flat, some sort of savannah perhaps? Such was likely, as even from a half-mile away there was faint smoke and dust from what the Fireen presumed was the crash site. It was not the worst place he had ever seen, but Fury had no real interest in remaining on the planet for any longer than he had to. First though, his curiosity had to be satisfied.
He walked alone across the dusty, grassy, plain. No life rose to greet him, outside of the faint but oddly familiar energy signature pulsating up ahead. The ship perhaps had some life in it still, maybe he would find more pieces of technology not unlike that of the World Machine? His excitement piqued, there was a chance that something in the wreckage could increase the likelihood of successfully grafting the World Machine to his armour. Then… then he’d have a chance at taking his revenge. Or obtaining justice, however one wanted to colour it.
He did not move all that quickly, but even his ordinary stride was faster than the jog of an average man. He made a steady, inexorable progress across the plain towards the crater, and as he closed he felt more and more certain of what he was sensing. But how was such a thing possible?
thas cooo
Its not for everyone, but as I've always fought to the death fighting to incapacitate is refreshing. Not to mention, the no-killing rule still has a lot of lee-way, I threw a spear through someone's chest without breaking the rule, because they didn't technically die instantly and there are woo-woo mages to save people once they're KO'd.
I prefer lower tier battles, so it suits me fine. From the league I've met ten to twenty active fighters and am in the process of organising two fights with other characters, so it's not too bad.
Dunno if I'll stay or not, all the pulling factors that kept me in RPG Arena have mostly gone, so I'm not that enthused about fighting here anymore.
I prefer lower tier battles, so it suits me fine. From the league I've met ten to twenty active fighters and am in the process of organising two fights with other characters, so it's not too bad.
Dunno if I'll stay or not, all the pulling factors that kept me in RPG Arena have mostly gone, so I'm not that enthused about fighting here anymore.
He watched through the glass for a few minutes, as he had every day for the past few months. On the other side, technicians worked tirelessly to create the ultimate weapon. They attempted to integrate the World Machine into Angar-Ryllan armour, specifically, his. It was not an easy process. The machine seemed to resist the attempts to pervert its purpose, to tear it asunder and remake it as a willing slave to the empire. In a way, it was like mastering the elements, and the excitement on the other side of the glass drew him there like a moth to flame. This was the weapon with which he would achieve his goals, and it took only the sacrifice of a single man.
The Fireen’s energy scarred face looked back at him in the glass and he noticed it, tracing the familiar lines of his very human appearance, marred by the devastation he was caught up in and the entity trapped within his soul. He turned away, finished with watching his designs for one day. There were other things that required his attention, and he had to play the good little soldier for just a while longer. Just a short while.
“One of our scouts hasn’t returned.” The officer told him as he walked into the briefing room. Around him stood the blue faced Angar-Ryllan warriors who had for whatever reason made it to high rank. He was the odd one out, as per usual, as he sat down and regarded them with his usual irritated frown. Usually he wouldn’t have sat, but they were all sitting and to stand would only further alienate himself and probably make him look weak. The thought of how the Angar-Ryllans regarded him caused a flash of anger to flood his system with adrenaline, which he clamped down on. He had to resist the urge to take a deep breath as the briefing continued.
“Why am I supposed to care?” He asked, finally, wondering why he had been invited to talk about such a trivial matter. They didn’t need his skills for something like this.
“Well, ahem, Fury, we expected you to be interested because the scout’s last report had detected technology of a similar make to that of the Machine you recovered.”
“What?”
“The Machine in tech-”
“I heard you, take me to the scout’s last location.”
“The ship is already outfitted, you can leave within the hour.”
“Ten minutes.”
In took less than half a day to find the last known location of the missing scout ship, in a solar system with only one habitable planet. It was as they closed on that planet that Fury felt a familiar feeling indeed. An energy signature, one that he remembered well. Not that of his greatest enemy, fortunately for the scouts, for they would have been lucky to survive his departure. Rather, the more subtle presence of one he had thought was gone, killed in Fury’s pursuit of revenge like so many others. It was impossible though, it must have been some similar piece of technology, carried by another of his people perhaps? But Fury’s power had only led him astray once before, and this time he was almost certain it couldn’t be carry over like the Nexus incident. It could surely only be one man.
Kanitah.
The Fireen’s energy scarred face looked back at him in the glass and he noticed it, tracing the familiar lines of his very human appearance, marred by the devastation he was caught up in and the entity trapped within his soul. He turned away, finished with watching his designs for one day. There were other things that required his attention, and he had to play the good little soldier for just a while longer. Just a short while.
“One of our scouts hasn’t returned.” The officer told him as he walked into the briefing room. Around him stood the blue faced Angar-Ryllan warriors who had for whatever reason made it to high rank. He was the odd one out, as per usual, as he sat down and regarded them with his usual irritated frown. Usually he wouldn’t have sat, but they were all sitting and to stand would only further alienate himself and probably make him look weak. The thought of how the Angar-Ryllans regarded him caused a flash of anger to flood his system with adrenaline, which he clamped down on. He had to resist the urge to take a deep breath as the briefing continued.
“Why am I supposed to care?” He asked, finally, wondering why he had been invited to talk about such a trivial matter. They didn’t need his skills for something like this.
“Well, ahem, Fury, we expected you to be interested because the scout’s last report had detected technology of a similar make to that of the Machine you recovered.”
“What?”
“The Machine in tech-”
“I heard you, take me to the scout’s last location.”
“The ship is already outfitted, you can leave within the hour.”
“Ten minutes.”
In took less than half a day to find the last known location of the missing scout ship, in a solar system with only one habitable planet. It was as they closed on that planet that Fury felt a familiar feeling indeed. An energy signature, one that he remembered well. Not that of his greatest enemy, fortunately for the scouts, for they would have been lucky to survive his departure. Rather, the more subtle presence of one he had thought was gone, killed in Fury’s pursuit of revenge like so many others. It was impossible though, it must have been some similar piece of technology, carried by another of his people perhaps? But Fury’s power had only led him astray once before, and this time he was almost certain it couldn’t be carry over like the Nexus incident. It could surely only be one man.
Kanitah.
What the hell have I missed? Jump ship? GCL?
Darth hosted a big tournament/league on Gaia online, I was bored over here so I went to check it out. Their fighting community is bigger than ours and pretty amusing.
No.
Darth wants you to hop ship by the by, I told him you were busy though.
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