Roughdragon1

Endless Quest - A Fantasy Dungeon RP

Sylvia was in a bind, to put it lightly. She was surrounded by three stormvermin. The one to her left held a long halberd in its armored hands, the one to her right wielded a spiked flail, already red with blood, paired with a kite shield, and the one behind her twirled two nasty-looking axes in its hands.

She was on edge, knowing that at any moment, the stormvermin could strike, and with her unarmored self, a direct hit would most likely prove fatal. At first, she couldn’t see any way out. They had her too backed up, too cornered. If she tried to dodge away from the flail-wielding stormvermin, she’d be skewered by the one with the halberd. If she tried to back away from both of them, the axe-wielding skaven behind would make short work of her.

She had to decide quickly, however. The skaven on her right exaggerated an attack, and Sylvia knew that it was going for a feint. The real threat came from the halberd-wielding stormvermin on her left side. As it stepped in to thrust its weapon towards Sylvia, it seemed that her choice had already been made for her. Considering all the present factors, she had one foreseeable option. So, instead of dodging away from the rat’s halberd, she instead dodged towards it. Or more accurately, slightly to the left of it. Considering the pole arm's length, if Sylvia could dodge the head of the halberd, she could get close.

In a quick movement, Sylvia launched herself towards the attacking rat, and felt a sharp pain below her ribs. She knew she had been cut, but couldn’t risk looking down to see how bad it was. Instead, once she bypassed the dangerous part of the rat’s weapon, her hand shot up, dagger drawn, and then embedded it into the rat’s neck. Sylvia twisted the blade, quickly ending the vermin’s life.

She spun around and immediately ducked, narrowly avoiding a deadly flail to the skull. The rat raised its shield, and with that barrier blocking her way, she couldn’t get past and attack the skaven. Instead, she turned towards the dual-axe rat, who was preparing to swing both instruments in a powerful attack. The two skaven made the mistake of being too close, however, and Sylvia took advantage of this. She deftly stepped out of the way of the attack, and instead of hitting her, the rat’s axes collided with the other stormvermin’s shield, knocking it out of the way and providing Sylvia an opening which she immediately took advantage of, jamming her dagger into the side of the vermin’s neck, killing it.

She yanked the dagger out, spurting crimson streams through the air. She could tell the wound below her ribs was bleeding badly. She felt blood run down the right side of her body, damping her clothes. She had to carry on, though.

One more, just one more.

The rat clanged both axes together, squeaking out a war cry. Sylvia took a deep breath, focusing herself, tuning out the other battles, tuning out the other sounds, tuning out all other distractions. It was truly a sight to behold. In the midst of battle, in the midst of chaos, the two combatants faced each other, preparing to deliver their final strike. And seemingly, at the drop of a hat, they charged.

The stormvermin lunged towards her, both axes swinging wildly, aiming to hit something, anything. Sylvia waited, and saw the perfect moment arise: The rat came into a wide stance, and had both its arms extended out to the sides of its body, like it was going to give a bladed hug. Sylvia dodged to the right, and quickly sliced the rat’s wrist between the joint gap of armor plating. The rat screeched in pain, cancelling its attack and holding its wounded wrist, and at the same time Sylvia grabbed the Skaven’s axe as it fell. She felt the weight pull down her arm, but with strained effort, she raised it over her read, and brought it down upon the skaven’s torso, in the unarmored area between the pauldron and the helmet. It fell to its knees, gravely wounded, and Sylvia finished it off by slitting its throat.

There was a period of respite, but then she too fell to her knees, gasping and coughing from the effort. Her wound was still bleeding due to her exertions through combat, and her every limb burned and ached with a dredging pain. Her heart sank as she looked around her, realizing that the assassins were still present and wreaking havoc among the dwarves, and many, many skaven and stormvermin were still up and fighting.

How… How many will we have to kill? How many until one gets a lucky hit in?

She wanted to give up, resign to her grisly fate. No matter how many they killed, it seemed like with every one that fell, five more took its place. She knew the guild could bring her back should she die, but the pain of death was not a happy prospect to her. In fact, she wanted to avoid it at all costs. Even so, should she fall in battle, there was a risk that she could be captured and taken away. If anything, she planned to avoid that fate.

And so, despite her almost unbearable state, Sylvia slowly got up on sore legs, and with shaking hands drew her bloodied dagger, ready to enter the fight once more.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Saria faced her opponent, or in this case, her opponents: A large man, clad head-to-toe in bulky, rusted iron armor, and also wielded a warhammer. He was a full head taller than Saria was, and from the looks of him, he was quite the brute. His companion seemed the complete opposite.

She was a girl, who seemed much more quick and fleet than he was. Instead of armor, she wore a set of silky, flowing robes that danced in the wind with every step she took. She carried in her hands a bow, and along her waist a pair of knives hung lazily.

“Ah, the Blood Devil herself. Allow me to introduce my partner and I. Sir Gerrick is my name, and she is Nil.” The man’s voice, through his domed helmet, was muffled and sounded quite silly. It was as if he was trying to speak while gagged.

“My, you have been causing quite the trouble lately. Responsible for over fifty murders across the countryside, I couldn’t believe it when I saw the flier. But as I look at you now, I can see why. I see a deranged, savage animal. And such animals can only be exterminated. Now, before we kill you and take your head back to the guards, care to explain why you would do such a thing? I am quite curious, really.”

Saria unsheathed her sword, its reddish blade glinting an angry crimson. She didn’t care what this fool of a man thought of her duels. They chose to fight her, and she won. Simple as that. Inwardly, she sighed. She had made a mistake coming here. The warriors of these lands were too soft, too fragile and fearful. One scratch, and they ran away. Shameful. The same went with these two. One cut, and they’d likely be off, pissing themselves as they went.

“I dueled them as I duel you now. That is all you need to know.” Gerrick laughed. Nil merely smirked.

“Oh, you think this is a duel? That is where you are wrong, lady. This is a--” Like lightning, Saria lunged forward, swinging her blade. Gerrick raised his warhammer to block, but Saria met it with full force, hitting the wooden grip of the hammer and shattering it through the middle, knocking Gerrick off balance.

“What? You--” Saria followed up with a punch, her armored gauntlet colliding with his helmet, denting it and sending him sprawling to the ground.

Saria went over to finish the job, but a sudden, burning pain in her side stopped her. She looked down, and saw a dagger jutting out of her side. She looked around, and saw Nil a few paces away, a smirk on her face, preparing to fire an arrow. Saria quickly yanked out the dagger, sending more flashes of pain up her side, and threw it towards Nil.

She ducked out of the dagger’s way, but the momentary distraction gave her enough time to get close. Saria charged into Nil, throwing her to the ground. Before she could recover, she raised an armored boot, over her head. Saria saw fear in her eyes. Good.

Without hesitation, she brought her boot down, hearing a satisfying crunch as the woman’s head caved in.

Vermin.

She sauntered over to Gerrick, who was just starting to stand up. Before he could, she kicked him in the face, sending him back to the dirt. She flipped her sword over, ready to stab him while he was on the ground. He tried to reach over for his warhammer, or what was left of it, but her foot pinned his arm, restricting movement.

“To be honest, you and your companion fought… horribly. A word of advice, concentrate less on your vocabulary and more on your strikes.”

“Wh-What happened to Nil? What did you do?” Saria shrugged, and raised her other boot to show him what happened.

“Gah-- you-- you monster!” He struggled more, but it was of no use. Saria had defeated him, and now he was going to die. But as she raised her sword, she heard something strange. A series of gasps, or choking noises coming from Gerrick.

Is he… is he crying? Saria stayed her blade, listening closely. Yes, indeed, he was crying.

“No… Nil… please… no....” Saria sighed, and jammed the blade through the helmet, into the eye-slit. She felt a spasm, a twitch, then nothing.

You’ll join her in the afterlife, I suppose.

She wiped her blade and sheathed it. However, as she began to make her way down the road, she heard footsteps behind her.

Oh, you cannot be serious.

Again, she unsheathed her sword and spun around, ready to face her opponent.
“Whoa, Whoa, wait!” Two people, dressed in strange, greenish cloaks stood in front of her. They looked to be a bit older than her, one man, one woman. The man was the one who spoke, and the woman held out a strange metal device in her hand, pointing it at Saria.

“What do you want?” Saria demanded.

“You are Saria Silverlocke, yes?” The man continued, regaining his composure. Saria nodded, though she had no clue of how these strange people knew this.

“What do you want?” Saria demanded, again.

“We are here to propose to you a tournament.”

A tournament? Interesting.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“To keep it simple, if you win, you will be granted a single wish. It may be anything you desire.”

“I desire to fight and die in battle. Can your people accommodate?”

“An… unusual wish, but it can be granted.”

“Alright, so where do I go?”

“Follow us, please.” The two crossed the road, where the two former bounty hunters lay dead. They ignored the bodies, and stepped into the thick trees. Saria followed them through, keeping her hands on her sword. She still had the sneaking suspicion that this was a trap.

After a moment, however, the trees cleared, and she was shocked to see a massive, paved courtyard in front of her, which sat in front of a massive, unusual looking building.

What the…

Saria turned back around, to see the forest, but it wasn’t there anymore. All she saw was stone.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Ok, changed my character post so that it doesn't take up so much space

The Crucible - Winner Take All

The first two seem more preferable

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Oops, nvm, I got it now

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Just wondering, how would fights play out between rpers? Do we write out the entire fight, including a possible kill, or do we write it out section by section?

The Crucible - Winner Take All

The Blood Devil

Name: Saria Silverlocke
Alias: “The Blood Devil”
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Class: Sword fighter

Appearance

Saria

Helmet-less No Blood/Blood

Equipment

The Red Blade: An heirloom passed down through countless generations of Saria’s family, and the weapon central to Saria’s fighting capability. Its true origin is unknown. However, tales told to her throughout childhood claim that it was forged by the Jogun, a race of perfect warriors, with the ore of Baskarite, a metal originating from the deepest depths of the earth. The Red Blade was their legacy.

However it came to be, and whoever made it, the Red Blade seems to be nearly indestructible, withstanding the most scorching temperatures from a smith’s forge as well as seemingly repelling the strikes of a blacksmith’s hammer without the slightest scratch. Attempts to dull it have been fruitless. Strangely enough, attempts to sharpen it also have no effect. Wielded properly, the Red Blade can cut through most types of armor, excluding metal.

Silverlocke Armor: Saria wears head-to-toe armor composed of ordinary steel plate, blackened and custom fitted to the shapes and contours of her own body. More steel plates hang from her armor, covering the hip and shoulder joints. The armor is mostly made for intimidation and ceremonial purposes rather than practical purposes, but still functions as effective protection.

Abilities

Reactionary Quickening: Saria’s sword fighting capability stems from countless hours of brutal, grueling training designed to create a warrior worthy of using the Red Blade. This included “exercises” such as dodging and deflecting lethal projectiles from all different directions, blindfolded. She learned to not just use her sight in battle, but sounds and instincts. Combined, Saria possessed the reaction speed and precision of a warrior.

Enhanced Strength: Saria not only needed to keep up with the rest of her siblings in terms of speed, but also in strength. Even though she was a girl, she was required to fight her brothers as well as her sister in order to become worthy of the blade. She seldom won against her brothers in hand-to-hand combat, since they possessed much more brute strength than she did, but to the average person, she is a bear in a woman’s skin, capable of extraordinary feats with the use of her strength alone, such as throwing people twice her weight over her shoulder, or caving in bones with her bare handed strikes.

Blood Blade: Saria is connected to the Red Blade in more ways than one. Sure, it is an heirloom bestowed upon her with the highest honor of the Silverlocke family, but per tradition, Saria was cut with the blade, imbuing her blood with the sword for the first time. From then on, she had become the only one in the world who could tap into the blade’s true power: Blood. Through the imbuement of her own blood, a crimson coat covers her sword, effectively sharpening it even further by using her own life force as a blade. Of course, this has a negative effect. The use of her own blood as a blade slowly drains her strength, and could kill her if left unchecked.

Pain Resistance: Saria is no stranger to pain, and can overcome and ignore wounds most people consider “grievous” or “crippling”. However, this does not make her immortal. She is still human, after all.

Fighting Style: Perfection? Form? Technique? Elegance? Merely an afterthought. Through raw, unhinged power, Saria aims to destroy completely and indiscriminately, and this is shown through her fighting style. Saria is rarely, if ever, on the defense. During combat, she will do anything possible to get the edge in a fight, including letting opponents injure her in order to gain an advantage.

Saria is a close range powerhouse. Her own unfettered rage powers her strikes, aiming to put all of her effort into physically breaking her opponent and their defenses. Fighters who use ranged attacks or sorcery infuriate Saria, since she sees combat as a purely melee-focused altercation. To her, ranged attackers and mages are cowards who cannot stomach the will to fight honorably. This style of combat does have its disadvantages. For example, Saria is weak to ranged attacks, since she cannot fight back against a ranged attacker, the only thing she can do is try and get closer to them. Also, Saria is tough, but not immortal. Attacks that slip through her defenses will hurt her, and usually, they hurt her severely.

Personality: Saria is by all means a hot-headed individual, and rightly so. From the day she could walk, she knew nothing but war. Risen by any other family, she may have had the passion for things such as the arts, or scholarly pursuits, but the Silverlocke family has effectively ironed out troublesome things such as these. The only thing left in her mind was an unfaltering fire, a will to fight, conquer, and destroy.

Bio: Raised in the Silverlocke family, Saria was one of five siblings, three of them being boys and another a girl. From the day she could walk, she was subjected to cruel punishment from her parents and her siblings alike. The reason for this abuse was to inject into her a sense of hostility and pain from the earliest age possible, and begin to kindle the flames of a warrior. However her sister, Alina, was more merciful to her than the others.

At the age of five, her training began. She was taught to wield a sword, and study the one “form” of fighting shared in the Silverlocke family: Darh Krile. (Jogun translation: Death Blow). The Silverlocke style of combat focused on overwhelming opponents with pure offensive capability. She was taught to never hold back in a fight, that self-preservation was a vice, preventing her from reaching her true path as a warrior. Years passed, and her sense of self deteriorated, her only savior was Alina, who seemed to be the one compassionate voice in her life.

At twelve, Saria began to “make progress”, or as her parents had put it. She began to best her brothers in combat, albeit not often. Alina wasn’t the warrior her parents wanted her to be, as she grew to be more of a pacifist. In a tragic “incident”, Alina had a large stone tied to her feet, and was told to swim across the lake nearest to their home. She never made it. Saria became filled with rage at her death, even moreso when her family seemed not to care much about it. “A good riddance,” as her parents called it. Saria began to plot her revenge, and she would become the Silverlocke heir in order to achieve it.

By nineteen, Saria had struggled through years of abuse and training, her only goal was the destruction of her entire family. Her personality took a dark turn, and she mercilessly beat her brothers, as they did to her before. When she won the right to the Silverlocke armor, and therefore the Red Blade, the first thing she did was slaughter her parents and brothers, not only for Alina, but for herself.

Afterwards, with her only companion being the Red Blade, she wandered the world, seeking worthy opponents to fight. Part of this was to reinforce her sense of self, her own identity, and part of it was to find an opponent she deemed worthy of killing her, to rid her of this cursed existence. Until this happens she searches still, a woman wanting to die.

Wish: Saria’s wish is to die to an opponent worth dieing to. She doesn’t know exactly who this would be, but it should ultimately be someone who has been through the same pain as her, who could best her in fair combat.

Echo: The Silverlocke lake, the place where her sister drowned under the cruel hands of her family.

Frenzy:

The Blood Devil

It is said that the Red Blade contains demonic origin. From the depths of the earth it was forged, and from the depths of the earth it came to be. Therefore, a bit of demonic influence was inevitable. When Saria’s pain is more than she could handle, her sword fuses to her hands, and forcibly draws blood from her body in order to create a blood blade (Blood Blade ability automatically activated). In this state, Saria is on her last legs, and will fight purely to survive, like a feral animal.

An aura of fire surrounds her, presumably an effect of the Red Blade binding to her soul. Her strength and speed is immensely increased, such that she could shatter boulders with the strength of a sword strike.

This state is what earned her the nickname, Blood Devil. When she slaughtered her family, the only thing onlookers saw was her, clad in black, bloody armor, emerging from her family’s home, now in flames.

Inventory: Phylactery

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Alright, edited the red blade entry, going to port her over to the character tab

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Name: Saria Silverlocke
Alias: “The Blood Devil”
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Class: Sword fighter

Appearance

Saria

Equipment

The Red Blade: An heirloom passed down through countless generations of Saria’s family, and the weapon central to Saria’s fighting capability. Its true origin is unknown. However, tales told to her throughout childhood claim that it was forged by the Jogun, a race of perfect warriors, with the ore of Baskarite, a metal originating from the deepest depths of the earth. The Red Blade was their legacy.

However it came to be, and whoever made it, the Red Blade seems to be nearly indestructible, withstanding the most scorching temperatures from a smith’s forge as well as seemingly repelling the strikes of a blacksmith’s hammer without the slightest scratch. Attempts to dull it have been fruitless. Strangely enough, attempts to sharpen it also have no effect. Wielded properly, the Red Blade can cut through most types of armor, excluding metal.

Silverlocke Armor: Saria wears head-to-toe armor composed of ordinary steel plate, blackened and custom fitted to the shapes and contours of her own body. More steel plates hang from her armor, covering the hip and shoulder joints. The armor is mostly made for intimidation and ceremonial purposes rather than practical purposes, but still functions as effective protection.

Abilities

Reactionary Quickening: Saria’s sword fighting capability stems from countless hours of brutal, grueling training designed to create a warrior worthy of using the Red Blade. This included “exercises” such as dodging and deflecting lethal projectiles from all different directions, blindfolded. She learned to not just use her sight in battle, but sounds and instincts. Combined, Saria possessed the reaction speed and precision of a warrior.

Enhanced Strength: Saria not only needed to keep up with the rest of her siblings in terms of speed, but also in strength. Even though she was a girl, she was required to fight her brothers as well as her sister in order to become worthy of the blade. She seldom won against her brothers in hand-to-hand combat, since they possessed much more brute strength than she did, but to the average person, she is a bear in a woman’s skin, capable of extraordinary feats with the use of her strength alone, such as throwing people twice her weight over her shoulder, or caving in bones with her bare handed strikes.

Blood Blade: Saria is connected to the Red Blade in more ways than one. Sure, it is an heirloom bestowed upon her with the highest honor of the Silverlocke family, but per tradition, Saria was cut with the blade, imbuing her blood with the sword for the first time. From then on, she had become the only one in the world who could tap into the blade’s true power: Blood. Through the imbuement of her own blood, a crimson coat covers her sword, effectively sharpening it even further by using her own life force as a blade. Of course, this has a negative effect. The use of her own blood as a blade slowly drains her strength, and could kill her if left unchecked.

Pain Resistance: Saria is no stranger to pain, and can overcome and ignore wounds most people consider “grievous” or “crippling”. However, this does not make her immortal. She is still human, after all.

Fighting Style: Perfection? Form? Technique? Elegance? Merely an afterthought. Through raw, unhinged power, Saria aims to destroy completely and indiscriminately, and this is shown through her fighting style. Saria is rarely, if ever, on the defense. During combat, she will do anything possible to get the edge in a fight, including letting opponents injure her in order to gain an advantage.

Saria is a close range powerhouse. Her own unfettered rage powers her strikes, aiming to put all of her effort into physically breaking her opponent and their defenses. Fighters who use ranged attacks or sorcery infuriate Saria, since she sees combat as a purely melee-focused altercation. To her, ranged attackers and mages are cowards who cannot stomach the will to fight honorably. This style of combat does have its disadvantages. For example, Saria is weak to ranged attacks, since she cannot fight back against a ranged attacker, the only thing she can do is try and get closer to them. Also, Saria is tough, but not immortal. Attacks that slip through her defenses will hurt her, and usually, they hurt her severely.

Personality: Saria is by all means a hot-headed individual, and rightly so. From the day she could walk, she knew nothing but war. Risen by any other family, she may have had the passion for things such as the arts, or scholarly pursuits, but the Silverlocke family has effectively ironed out troublesome things such as these. The only thing left in her mind was an unfaltering fire, a will to fight, conquer, and destroy.

Bio: Raised in the Silverlocke family, Saria was one of five siblings, three of them being boys and another a girl. From the day she could walk, she was subjected to cruel punishment from her parents and her siblings alike. The reason for this abuse was to inject into her a sense of hostility and pain from the earliest age possible, and begin to kindle the flames of a warrior. However her sister, Alina, was more merciful to her than the others.

At the age of five, her training began. She was taught to wield a sword, and study the one “form” of fighting shared in the Silverlocke family: Darh Krile. (Jogun translation: Death Blow). The Silverlocke style of combat focused on overwhelming opponents with pure offensive capability. She was taught to never hold back in a fight, that self-preservation was a vice, preventing her from reaching her true path as a warrior. Years passed, and her sense of self deteriorated, her only savior was Alina, who seemed to be the one compassionate voice in her life.

At twelve, Saria began to “make progress”, or as her parents had put it. She began to best her brothers in combat, albeit not often. Alina wasn’t the warrior her parents wanted her to be, as she grew to be more of a pacifist. In a tragic “incident”, Alina had a large stone tied to her feet, and was told to swim across the lake nearest to their home. She never made it. Saria became filled with rage at her death, even moreso when her family seemed not to care much about it. “A good riddance,” as her parents called it. Saria began to plot her revenge, and she would become the Silverlocke heir in order to achieve it.

By nineteen, Saria had struggled through years of abuse and training, her only goal was the destruction of her entire family. Her personality took a dark turn, and she mercilessly beat her brothers, as they did to her before. When she won the right to the Silverlocke armor, and therefore the Red Blade, the first thing she did was slaughter her parents and brothers, not only for Alina, but for herself.

Afterwards, with her only companion being the Red Blade, she wandered the world, seeking worthy opponents to fight. Part of this was to reinforce her sense of self, her own identity, and part of it was to find an opponent she deemed worthy of killing her, to rid her of this cursed existence. Until this happens she searches still, a woman wanting to die.

Wish: Saria’s wish is to die to an opponent worth dieing to. She doesn’t know exactly who this would be, but it should ultimately be someone who has been through the same pain as her, who could best her in fair combat.

Echo: The Silverlocke lake, the place where her sister drowned under the cruel hands of her family.

Frenzy:

The Blood Devil

It is said that the Red Blade contains demonic origin. From the depths of the earth it was forged, and from the depths of the earth it came to be. Therefore, a bit of demonic influence was inevitable. When Saria’s pain is more than she could handle, her sword fuses to her hands, and forcibly draws blood from her body in order to create a blood blade (Blood Blade ability automatically activated). In this state, Saria is on her last legs, and will fight purely to survive, like a feral animal.

An aura of fire surrounds her, presumably an effect of the Red Blade binding to her soul. Her strength and speed is immensely increased, such that she could shatter boulders with the strength of a sword strike.

This state is what earned her the nickname, Blood Devil. When she slaughtered her family, the only thing onlookers saw was her, clad in black, bloody armor, emerging from her family’s home, now in flames.

Inventory: Phylactery

The Crucible - Winner Take All

That's precisely correct.

@Lugubrious

Okay, thanks for clarifying.