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Caravan: Resurrection

Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs
_{3rd of Summer - 9:24 PM}

Locke pulled his blade down as soon as he could manage a motion with any strength, around the same time that the brilliant flames encompassed his body. The sword sliced through Paric's flesh until it hit bone, but didn't severe straight through the man's arm as his opponent back away in recoil from the blast. The puddle behind him splashed, and he lost his footing, losing grip of his sword while falling back onto the hard ground, soundless behind the swooshing of flames. Paric was bleeding heavily from his arm now, but Mop was frantically rolling around in water, trying to put the fire out as quickly as possible. At this point, he might have sounded some kind of alarm, but when he tried to scream, whether it be out in pain or for aid, he instead began to cough and gasp for air. He flopped helplessly from side to side like a fish out of water. The guards didn't think anything of it, even though they could hear the muffled echoes of their captain's coughing fit.

Caravan: Resurrection

Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus
_{3rd of Summer - 10:30 PM}

"I'm sure Lyullia can deal with the repairs without too much trouble. It's just a matter of replacing a few parts here and there, checking the Caravan's integrity, stuff like that. But one of our Venbu was killed in the accident, and the other... Well, it's like your little friend here says. They've passed one. Even if we got things in working order, we've got no way to get moving. Hell, if the Venbu were still alive, we wouldn't even have a pilot to get us where we're going!" Zay looked around the Caravan at everyone else as he spoke, still without a single idea to get them back on their path. "If you're offering to escort us somewhere safer though, we can't possibly turn that down!" The Captain waved Flin away when the food was denied, and then noticed that he'd just brought a bunch of raw veggies. He gave him a disapproving glare and sighed.

"Excuse me to interject," Noru cut in, "But we're still missing a companion. A woman. She was flung off of the cart in the explosion, and we've yet to search for her body. The girl in question was also our pilot. Would it be possible to allow us a little while to search the pass?" He looked at Ell, and then back to Rem. "If one of you could stay behind with me, while the rest of us go on ahead, that would be even better."

"Split up?" Neal grunted.

"Druids," Zay chirped, "Read a book."

Current Mood in One Gif

Caravan: Resurrection

Northern Marrenfall, Gybol's Cafe
_{4th of Summer - 11:03 AM}

Gybol's explanation was short and sweet. It wasn't what this old guy was looking for, though. Not even close. Without another word, he reached into his jacket and rummaged around for something while mumbling to himself incoherently. Then he pulled something out and gently placed his hand on the table, letting a thin silver chain leak out of the crevices between his fingers. When he pulled his hand away, it revealed a small amulet almost identical to Gybol's in its make, from the gemstone to the metal used to craft it. The man coughed and reached into his coat again, pulling out the same piece of paper from earlier.

"You don't see people in the suburbs carrying around Magical items like this one non-nonchalantly," He mumbled. The man moved one hand towards the tray that held his soup, and picked up the small black orb that he'd dropped earlier. "It's also fairly uncommon to see humans with a skin-pigment mutation in Thoris, let alone Marrenfall. Magic is outlawed in all of the suburbs. Carrying around contraptions like these is liable to get you arrested." The old man looked up at Gybol quietly, put the small orb back in the tray, and slowly continued to eat away at his soup. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to leave suspicious things alone?"

The old man picked his words very carefully, but to the average person, it might have just seemed like he was scolding a young man for taking something that wasn't his and putting himself in danger. But to speak with too much detail in a situation like this was not the wisest idea. After all, that old guy was likely carrying way more illegal contraband that Gybol had ever seen in his life here in the suburbs.

Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs
_{3rd of Summer - 9:24 PM}

Mop recoiled from the blow as the stone struck the side of his head. But it was not fully because of Paric's strike, even though it drew blood. In the time that he'd spent to lecture Locke, the captain had regained a fair amount of control over his muscles. Both of his legs were still frozen in place, but his knees would bend. As the rock crashed against his temple, Mop rose lurched his bloody hand and clamped onto Paric's arm, holding him in place with an absurdly powerful grip around his wrist.

"Ay ay, speak up, mate," Locke gurgled through a fair amount of blood. He rose his head, letting his filthy hair fall past his face to reveal an innocent smile. Blood leaked from the corners of his mouth and stained his bottom teeth, but he spoke relatively clearly, and his tongue wasn't bleeding. "I'm a lil drunk ma'self!"

He slowly rose his sword towards Paric's arm, still having a little trouble controlling his muscles from the after effects of Ayer's electrical blast. But he managed all the same.

"But I agree with ya. Maybe I should have a present ready for the guy who'a finds me!" He gently placed the sharp edge of his blade against Paric's forearm. "You won't be needin' this where you're going, will yeh?"

Caravan: Resurrection

Northern Marrenfall, Gybol's Cafe
_{4th of Summer - 11:03 AM}

The old man was mid-slurp when Gybol approached him, but offered a simple not. It was a strange taste to him, something completely alien to his usual eating habits. It reminded him of a time when he could freely indulge in salty foods and sweets, meals that were packed full of unhealthy seasonings. Part of him was curious as to how Gybol had managed to concoct a seasoning so deliciously similar, superior even superior, to salt. But he pushed that thought down immediately, lowered his spoon, and pointed at Gybol's necklace.

"Where'd you find that, son?"

Caravan: Resurrection

Northern Marrenfall, Gybol's Cafe
_{4th of Summer - 11:02 AM}

Nina almost recoiled as her boss silently reprimanded her behavior. When he first left the kitchen to consult with the old dude, she took a few moments to compose herself. While he actually worked though, she never bothered to leave the kitchen. Everyone else had already left by the time Gybol was finished preparing his soup. It was just the old man. The horribly disfigured old man.

He seemed too obsessed with his little trinket to even notice Gybol. Instead of responding, he huffed and nodded to himself. But as the chef turned away, the ragged customer stole a glance. Nina took a moment to peer around the corner every once and a while, checking of the guy needed anything. But he would just return her stare with a gentle smile before returning to his little orb.

Nina didn't delay when the soup was ready, and quickly made her way out of the kitchen with the prepped tray in hand. "Here you are!" She said, twisting her voice to sound as sweet as she could manage. The old man looked down at the soup and put his orb on the tray without another word. Nina stood there for a moment as he began to eat, forcing herself to wait for... Well, anything really. These types always forgot to ask for a glass of water, but they always wanted something to drink. Even if the soup was... Well, soup. Food was stupid. Customers were stupid! Her eyes slowly tightened as the man started to slurp away, but she managed to bow and excuse herself silently.

"Miss," he called, "Is that man busy?"

"Mr Gybol?" She didn't really know how to react to that. A lot of people wanted to speak to him directly after tasting his food. "I can pass on your compliments if you-"

"No, I have a question."

"I could pass that along too-"

"If he doesn't want to talk to his customers, that's fine." There was a hint of judgement in his voice. Nina flinched. That wasn't it at all! She was conditioned to act as if Gybol was always busy. He couldn't waste time talking to every customer after all, even if the cafe was...

...Basically empty.

Caravan: Resurrection

Smor'Gen'Blok, Wor Tribe's Destroyed Hearth-site
_{3rd of Summer - 10:02 AM}

The Wor Barricade stood strong as Za'Kul talked, but there were murmurs hidden behind the sound of collapsing rock. The tunnel behind them did in fact lead back into the low-tunnels. It wouldn't take too long to find his way back towards the Kul hearth-site. The Wor before him had never bothered to delve into the dank lower tunnels personally, either. There was some disagreement between the Lok'Sha that lined the back of the group.

Some of them had seen his actions earlier, even if only for a moment. Others thought of him as nothing more than a brutish low-born dark-skin. Very few held no alignment, and merely wanted to escape as soon as possible. But the Lok'Sha that stood in front of the group were the ones speaking for them. The ground beneath Za'Kul and the tunnel's mouth began to give way. He had but a few moments to take action. Those in the back of the group had already stepped aside, or retreated on their own into the lower tunnels. The few Lok'Sha in the front stood high with their chests puffed out, and their eyes narrowed at their inferior brother.

"Fill Wor's head with lies! Aim to kill us all!" One of the men shouted, "Kill Hi'Wor! Sabotage tunnels!"

The group behind the speaker grew thinner. It was just him, and two sympathizers that barred Za'Kul's exit now.

"Never let weak Kul, traitor Kul, pass!"

Behind Za'Kul, War'Da'Li's familiar voice roared across the cavern, overpowering the surrounding screams for only a moment as she slid down into the pit beneath her. A few of the Lok'Sha behind those who blocked Za'Kul's path stepped forward with pained expressions burned into their faces. They'd known her, more than they knew the son of the Wor's Chieftain.

"Weak will die here! Kul and Wor alike!"

Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs
_{3rd of Summer - 9:23 PM}

The captain was fast. Had Paric moved even a moment later, he would have lost his entire arm. The blade slipped past his shoulder harmlessly despite Locke's split-second decision, nearly nicking the Eldi's shoulder in the process. He didn't stop for long. Something rumbled from the pit of the swordsman's stomach and began to rise as his muscles went dormant. He took a step back and reached for his mouth frantically, stifling a series of heavy coughs until something licked at the back of his ankles. The pain only lasted for a moment before his limbs went stiff like iron pipes. Somehow, despite the some-odd 20000 volts coursing through his body, Locke managed to stand upright with his sword clamped firmly in his right hand. He dropped the hand that covered his mouth and clenched a bloody fist and a few red droplets leaked from his lips. Had he bitten his tongue? If that were the case, how was his hand already covered in so much blood?

The Mop was not totally incapacitated, but his body wouldn't listen to him. The guards seemed ignorant of the little exchange in the alley way as well. This was the perfect chance for the two fugitives to escape, or...

Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus
_{3rd of Summer - 10:29 PM}

"Haha, yeah, unsettling. That doesn't even scratch the surface," Zay chuckled nervously, "We were ambushed, like they knew we were coming down this path all along. Captain Geroldus over here had a similar experience on the southern trading route himself. Had his entire Caravan wiped out, and barely managed to crawl away with his life. If he hadn't found us-"

"I would have died," Neal grunted.

"Yeah. I'm surprised we were able to defend ourselves, honestly. Those cats bombed our caravan and killed both the Venbu in seconds. We were lucky that they underestimated us." Zay rolled his eyes. "We fought them off, and now we're stranded. I was about to order a patrol, but it's getting very dark. I don't doubt that those girls are still lurking nearby." He laughed to himself when he realized Rem had found a spot on the floor. "It suddenly feels a lot safer around here with you around though. Seems like a gift from above! Druids are an even rarer sight than Myti, out in the wilds... Want something to eat?" Without waiting for a response, he turned to Flin and waved towards the storage room. "Flin! Gett'em something to eat."

Berganfont, Main Square
_{4th of Summer - 9:03 AM}

From behind the back wall of Lilith's Keg, the owner herself could be seen wrapping her snow-white apron around herself and tying the length of her hair back into a neat little bun. She caught a glimpse of Shane and smiled while mouthing the words 'one sec' as she prepped the kitchen with a little help from the kids.

_{'Go take his order while we get ready Peter!'}

On command, without as much as a peep of objection, Peter stampeded across the cobbled flooring and rushed to Shane's side with a pad of crust paper and a pencil. "Momma's out of meat. We can't do no steaks or nuffin' like that, sir," He mumbled. Peter was only 14 years old, and hardly the most refined speaker. He was actually a bit on the slow side, but that didn't stop him from trying his best around the kitchen.

Northern Marrenfall, Gybol's Cafe
_{4th of Summer - 10:55 AM}

The old man took a little longer than Nina expected.

"The soup," he wheezed, "That one! It's second from the top?" Nina froze as he spoke, waiting for Gybol to respond. For such a tough girl, she was pretty stubborn about acting like a child. With both hands she motioned towards the front of the cafe.

"You heard him boss," She whispered, "Second from the top!" Nina had no idea what that meant, and didn't want to go out to check what the old guy was referring to. Memorizing the menu wasn't part of her job, but she had a habit of changing her responsibilities on a day-to-day basis.

The old man cleared his throat and reached into his ragged coat for a small piece of paper, and a pencil, likely to occupy himself while he waited. While adjusting his glasses, he began to scratch the pencil across the paper carefully.

"Can you keep from using salt?" He shouted, "I can't have too much salt."

He scribbled something onto the paper quickly, and shoved it back into his coat. Then, without lifting his head again, he pulled out a small, dark stone. But when he looked into it, his brow lowered. The map gentle tapped it against the table and glared at it again. He brought it closer to his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and held it near his ear, only to lower it again. "Salt and... And no sugar! No sugar..." He glanced at the small, smooth orb and groaned. "Please."

Final Fantasy Record Keeper interest check

Sorry, I'm a little preoccupied with another project.

Thoughts on pre-made characters/roles?

Having prebuilt characters I do not see as a viable counter to the idea of making one's own characters in the context of what you're arguing.

@arenasnow

I think you've misunderstood a great deal of what I'm arguing, and what I merely believe to be possibilities. Possibilities which, to be perfectly clear, I don't identify with, as evident by my earlier commentary. It may be unclear, but the only argument I've put forward thus far is:

I assert that it's for this reason - Character creation is fun and easy - that there's an endemic of people losing interest forum wide.

To which your response has been, by-in-large, anecdotal. Which, if we're to treat this as a legitimate argument, and not a general discussion, makes all of our current points moot. The majority of your responses have been anecdotal, in actuality, as have most of my own comments.

If there's any argument to be had here, it would reference contention on the point that I've quoted above. Although I've offered a fairly general anecdotal argument myself to begin with,

allow me to expand.

P1. Character creation is fun/fulfilling;
P2. Creating a character sheet is less difficult than creating multiple posts;

---

C1 ∴Character creation is relatively easy
P3. There are a myriad of examples on this website where people put a great deal of effort into their sheets, but drop out of role plays regardless;
P4. Lazier individuals are more prone to taking on easier tasks;
P5. Humans are generally self-serving
P6. There are hundreds of failed roleplays, but thousands of completed character sheets;

---

C2 ∴ Writers on this site are likely to be more invested in content that they create, than they are in content that others have created;

---

C3 ∴ Once an individual has completed the easiest self-invested task required to enter a role-play, further investment is not related to the initial character creation.
P7. Without further investment, people will abandon RPs.

---

C4 ∴ Due to the ease of character creation, and the comparative difficulty of writing posts consistently, players are more likely to create a plethora of characters, rather than remain dedicated to a single RP.

Now, from here, there are several points of contention.

If you agree with premises 1 & 2, as they are subjective, then you cannot realistically disagree with conclusion 1. The closest point of contention here, is what scope 'relatively' involves. This however, argues nothing but semantics. If we can agree that 'relatively' refers to the comparison between creating a character, and posting regularly with that character, we can move on from here. If not, then further premises are required to support the first conclusion.

No in regards to premise 3, my sample size is in fact, anecdotal and unclear. Unless I were to scan the entire forum, and bring up multiple citations, you can't take this statement at face value. However, if we can both agree that it is common for players to put effort into characters, and bail on role plays despite this, then I believe that's enough support to affirm this premise.

Premises 4, 5 & 6 are just statements of fact.

The second conclusion may be a major point of contention despite the dependent clauses offering a fair amount of support. This is where the discussion should be complicated, otherwise we'll just end up breaking off into uncoordinated tangents.

Conclusion 3 is, again, fully supported, I feel.

Premise 7 seems factual, but some people remain dedicated, even without investment. Still, I feel they are outliers.

Conclusion 4 is essentially my argument, in a nutshell.

---

Certainly, but neither are they mutually exclusive.

Two things cannot be mutually exclusive and mutually inclusive at the same time. Unless I'm misunderstanding the terminology, which I'm fairly sure isn't the case, this seems redundant.

Whoops, I'm wrong. I don't know why, but I'm often confused by mutually exclusive and mutually inclusive events, which is silly because they're fairly simple concepts.

While I do agree that being able to act as a writer, and write as an actor, are both very good assets, they are not necessary to perpetuate one another. Some people are better at writing than others simply because they understand the science of language and literature to a greater degree than others, and the same goes for those who act/role play. I can assert myself that having experience in both fields does not automatically translate to improved results. It depends on the individual.

The variance from person to person is exactly why I think the concept of pre-made characters has potential, in theory. I cannot possibly account for everyone who isn't me, so I don't. But, I also don't take that variance into account as a tool for argumentation, because it is worthless as evidence.

I think you'd move beyond premade characters and instead go into premade roles.

In regards to 1x1s in particular, I think that the similarity between pre-made characters and pre-made roles could act as support if structured in an argument for the effectiveness of pre-made characters.

---

Ah, I'm sorry for disregarding a great deal of your post. I feel that most of it was based on misconceptions of my beliefs, which is why I chose to clarify rather than address your individual points.

Caravan: Resurrection

Berganfont, Main Square
_{4th of Summer - 9:01 AM}

The minutes ticked by like hours. Berganfont's air was fresh, but despite being surrounded by wildlife, and free of pollution, the gutters of the Low Houses always ebbed with with scents of grime and gunk. But after a few minutes of waiting outside of the old keg, Peter and Leon Casteli came running up to open the shop to the public. Shane was the only one there, though. It was pretty rare for Lilith to get any customers this early in the morning, so the Casteli brothers were a little shocked to see somebody standing outside already. Peter, the younger of the two boys, peered around the corner of the main doorway and stared at Shane. He'd recognized the man. Shane had been there before, but he'd never come out to speak with him directly. Neither had his brother. The little blonde boy waved him inside regardless, and his shorter brother joined him with a little smile. And then they disappeared into the building and rushed towards the kitchen. Looks like they were cooking early, today.