Awesome to see this starting up! (Did I ever respond with my information about the little background info I had in our Skype convo like six months ago?)
Name: Benjamin Benoist
Starship Names:
[i]Goliath
Harbinger
The Samson
Hammer
Guiltless
Absolution
Strategy: Hmm, this is a question that takes time I don't have in order to answer. My quickest answer that doesn't suck would be to avoid fighting entirely. Find ways to cripple the other nations economy, political might, etc. Make it to where they can't fight, before you even have to.
Planet Names:
Toughie, not sure. Might edit later.
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Well this was a disappointing use of ctrl+F .
Except for Halo. Halo's cool.
Except for Halo. Halo's cool.
Halo said
Guys, stop trying to make Forum 22 happen. It's not going to happen.(Rather hoping people pick up on the reference so I don't look like an asshole.)
Shut up Halo. You don't even go here.
Azarthes said
Fuck no bitch <3
Azarthes said
Get drunk again this thread is mildly interesting.
Are you offering to buy?
Whew, took me longer than I had hoped to get this post up. I really am going to have to start scheduling my days better. Can't really 'shoot from the hip' and do things whenever you want when you've got a lot going on.
My drunk thread has turned into something I don't understand.
Despite the light given off by the mages’ spells and campfires of the shipwrecked crew, Ehsan and Valsiore were still shrouded in darkness. They could only roughly make out the shapes of the scorpions that lay in front of them. Four in number to the Altmer’s keen eye, but the night hid just where their pinchers and stingers moved.
There was a snapping sound as a set of pinchers snapped shut, and then one of the scorpions scurried forward, its legs kicking sand into the air. Urged on by its movements, two more began to follow suit, hurrying along the ground towards Ehsan.
“Elf…I’d appreciate some help!”
The Altmer’s eyes darted from scorpion to scorpion. The beast at the front, the two flanking it, and the last one at the rear. His staff was in his left hand, the palm of his right was set aflame, a fireball ready to be thrown. The campsite for the sailors was too far away to make a break for it, and frankly that would place them with the scorpions in front and the sea at their back, which was not a prospect he was ready to resign himself to.
Ehsan stepped backwards and raised his scimitar, “I cannot fight them all at one time my friend.”
Valsiore tried to loosen his white knuckled grip on the staff. The wood was already starting to become slick with sweat, and he didn’t need it flying from his grasp in the middle of the fight.
The scorpions begun to close the distance between them and the Redguard, who stepped back a few more feet. “Please, help Elf.”
“Step the left.”
Ehsan did.
The Altmer took a few steps to ensure his aim was on, and then brought his arm forward, his right hand swinging above his head. The fire leapt from his grasp and landed in the sand directly in front of the closest scorpion, erupting into a brilliant blaze of sparks and light. The arachnid screeched and scurried back. Following its lead, the others retreated a bit more.
The fire had little staying power, as the damp sand offered it no further fuel, and the flames merely withered and faded after a precious moment or two. The fireball had enraged the scorpion however, which let out a screech and charged Valsiore. Its mandibles flared outwards, revealing a set of beady eyes that started right into its prey.
Magelight, one of Valsiore’s first spells, taught within the comforts of the regal manor that he had once considered home, landed right between the mandibles, inches from the eyes of the beast.
The two caravan guards were suddenly bathed in the light from the spell, while the sudden onset of such a close light source seared the eyes of the head scorpion. Its earlier screech turned into a bloodcurdling scream, and it began to backpedal quickly.
“Ehsan, go!”
The Redguard charged, a warcry erupting from his lips in order to shove down the natural fear of the fight. He raised his scimitar above his head and brought it down with all of his might. The blade crushed the skull of the scorpion, and its entire body crumpled forward, eight legs all giving out at once.
There was little room for rest, for one of the others hurried forward, its stinger raised in preparation for an attack. Ehsan had placed his boot on the body of the dead scorpion so he could remove his blade, but it had brought him to close to the Magelight spell. He couldn’t see the arachnid coming at all.
Teeth bared, Valsiore ran and pushed past Ehsan. He brought his staff forward and willed it to act. The top of the wood glowed and issued forth a cascade of lightning bolts, each one striking the hardened exoskeleton of the scorpion. The first few struck pinchers and merely left foul smelling holes in the shell, but the next two seared off the mandibles, and the last entered the eye sockets and fried the brain.
Ehsan removed his blade and blinked away the spots that had appeared in his vision. “Okay,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Two against two. I believe I enjoy these odds a good deal more.”
“If you can make it, try to reach us!”
A woman had called them from somewhere in the midst of the sailor’s camp. Whether it was one of the mages whose mastery of ice and fire was almost like a song, or one of the hawkeyed archers who could put half a dozen arrows into a scorpion while ignored by her more skilled and idolized companions, it couldn’t be said.
“Your call Elf.”
Valsiore look behind them, towards the solace of the path that had brought them into this mess, to the body of their slain companion, and to the body of the first scorpion, Magelight still bathing them in a luminescent light. Then he looked forward to the smoldering corpse of the scorpion he had just killed, the sailors that were fighting for their lives, and then to the phalanx of scorpions in front of them.
“There’s no guarantee we’d make it back alive,” he said. “I’d rather try to meet them, at least there we have strength in numbers.”
“Fair enough. We’ll meet them together?”
“Together.”
Armed with steel and magic, the man and mer began to cut their way through the scorpion, towards safety.
Or at least, a less imminent death.
There was a snapping sound as a set of pinchers snapped shut, and then one of the scorpions scurried forward, its legs kicking sand into the air. Urged on by its movements, two more began to follow suit, hurrying along the ground towards Ehsan.
“Elf…I’d appreciate some help!”
The Altmer’s eyes darted from scorpion to scorpion. The beast at the front, the two flanking it, and the last one at the rear. His staff was in his left hand, the palm of his right was set aflame, a fireball ready to be thrown. The campsite for the sailors was too far away to make a break for it, and frankly that would place them with the scorpions in front and the sea at their back, which was not a prospect he was ready to resign himself to.
Ehsan stepped backwards and raised his scimitar, “I cannot fight them all at one time my friend.”
Valsiore tried to loosen his white knuckled grip on the staff. The wood was already starting to become slick with sweat, and he didn’t need it flying from his grasp in the middle of the fight.
The scorpions begun to close the distance between them and the Redguard, who stepped back a few more feet. “Please, help Elf.”
“Step the left.”
Ehsan did.
The Altmer took a few steps to ensure his aim was on, and then brought his arm forward, his right hand swinging above his head. The fire leapt from his grasp and landed in the sand directly in front of the closest scorpion, erupting into a brilliant blaze of sparks and light. The arachnid screeched and scurried back. Following its lead, the others retreated a bit more.
The fire had little staying power, as the damp sand offered it no further fuel, and the flames merely withered and faded after a precious moment or two. The fireball had enraged the scorpion however, which let out a screech and charged Valsiore. Its mandibles flared outwards, revealing a set of beady eyes that started right into its prey.
Magelight, one of Valsiore’s first spells, taught within the comforts of the regal manor that he had once considered home, landed right between the mandibles, inches from the eyes of the beast.
The two caravan guards were suddenly bathed in the light from the spell, while the sudden onset of such a close light source seared the eyes of the head scorpion. Its earlier screech turned into a bloodcurdling scream, and it began to backpedal quickly.
“Ehsan, go!”
The Redguard charged, a warcry erupting from his lips in order to shove down the natural fear of the fight. He raised his scimitar above his head and brought it down with all of his might. The blade crushed the skull of the scorpion, and its entire body crumpled forward, eight legs all giving out at once.
There was little room for rest, for one of the others hurried forward, its stinger raised in preparation for an attack. Ehsan had placed his boot on the body of the dead scorpion so he could remove his blade, but it had brought him to close to the Magelight spell. He couldn’t see the arachnid coming at all.
Teeth bared, Valsiore ran and pushed past Ehsan. He brought his staff forward and willed it to act. The top of the wood glowed and issued forth a cascade of lightning bolts, each one striking the hardened exoskeleton of the scorpion. The first few struck pinchers and merely left foul smelling holes in the shell, but the next two seared off the mandibles, and the last entered the eye sockets and fried the brain.
Ehsan removed his blade and blinked away the spots that had appeared in his vision. “Okay,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Two against two. I believe I enjoy these odds a good deal more.”
“If you can make it, try to reach us!”
A woman had called them from somewhere in the midst of the sailor’s camp. Whether it was one of the mages whose mastery of ice and fire was almost like a song, or one of the hawkeyed archers who could put half a dozen arrows into a scorpion while ignored by her more skilled and idolized companions, it couldn’t be said.
“Your call Elf.”
Valsiore look behind them, towards the solace of the path that had brought them into this mess, to the body of their slain companion, and to the body of the first scorpion, Magelight still bathing them in a luminescent light. Then he looked forward to the smoldering corpse of the scorpion he had just killed, the sailors that were fighting for their lives, and then to the phalanx of scorpions in front of them.
“There’s no guarantee we’d make it back alive,” he said. “I’d rather try to meet them, at least there we have strength in numbers.”
“Fair enough. We’ll meet them together?”
“Together.”
Armed with steel and magic, the man and mer began to cut their way through the scorpion, towards safety.
Or at least, a less imminent death.
I am now thoroughly regretting many of the actions of last night.
Sober now. Understand it lots better.
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