The Irish Tree

Guild of Renta-Experts [[CANCELLED]]

Alice felt her ears fall flat against her head as she heard Brandy scream bloody murder, and wince at seeing her punt that thing like she'd invented a new sport out of it. She'd run after the rabbit's corpse, knowing they'd need it to prove they had done the deed before returning to hear Brandy compliment her on her work. Puffing her chest out, Alice would say: "I'm pretty handy when it comes to stuff like this. Comes with being part dog, I think. Also, thank you, I brush my tail a lot."

At being questioned whether or not the bunny had messed up Brandy's face, approaching her companion and getting a good look at it. "Its only a small mark. It should heal up by tomorrow morning, if I'm going to be honest. You're lucky he didn't try to gore you with his horn, like he tried with me," she said, putting a hand over the small gouge in her tunic, stained with a bit of her blood, yet her skin beneath was completely healed. "Being a werewolf is kinda cool sometimes, since that didn't even hurt all that bad and now I'm healed. But, anyways...time to get paid!" she would say, holding up the rabbit by its legs, looking proud as hell at their successful job.

It was pretty late, admittedly, but Alice wanted to get the job done and over with...and besides, after that loud bang and squabble and scream, the farmhands were probably awake. As such, Alice would present their rabbit to Dooch, and hopefully get to keep the body for stew and...research purposes.

Aether Saga: A Hero's Unlikely Journey (The Irish Tree and Xaltwind)

With the assets on display being squished asserted, the Elven Paladin would turn his head away, just in time for Gram to look at him. "I am glad that you're expressing discretion, Vani. Please refrain from your usual foolishness with this one," the draconic woman would say, smiling back at the golden girl before her. "This is Vani, a Paladin of Freesia. He fancies himself a lady's man, but he's trustworthy. Now then..."

Gram would circle around the girl, amazed at her lack of general confusion. "I'm surprised that you're taking this so well, all things considered. You really are the hero of legend," she would say, stopping behind her and asking a relatively simple question:

"Would you like to go somewhere warmer? It's below freezing outside, and with attire like that, I imagine the chill will be getting to you soon." With a glance she looked to Vani, who would remove his cloak and drape it over the yet unnamed heroine to give her something moderately warm. It also smelt like cinnamon.

Fairy Tail Merged Guild rp

If I make a Take-Over magic user, what's the general limit on the number of Take-Over options? And is it limited just to beasts?

One Piece: On the Strangest of Tides

Cera would look on in horror as a guard dog emerged from the cabin...though from the way it was slithering, maybe it was part-something-else. Cera would steel herself to hold off the beast, but in her current condition she wouldn't last long. With footwork serving as her main means of fighting an animal like this, she'd sidestep its lunge and launch a kick at its side, knocking it back only slightly before she made her way towards the mast.

The reality of it was that she didn't even want to hurt this animal, and even if she did, she was in no condition to incapacitate or kill it on her own. Such would be apparent to Kukui from a glance, as Cera was spending most of her time just trying to avoid getting mauled by the thing, yet retaining its focus on her.

...She felt like, maybe, this was how she was going to die. Getting ripped apart by one single dog after managing to escape a pirate fleet with numerous injured people depending on her.

What a way to go.

Aether Saga: A Hero's Unlikely Journey (The Irish Tree and Xaltwind)

Your life is over.

Your life has begun.

Your "self" has ended.

Yourself has begun.

Words echoed in the dark as a girl was ripped from home and hearth, and deposited onto the cold stone. Or rather, it was as if she had always been there, lying comfortably upon a bed fit for a statue, or perhaps a very wealthy ancient ruler with a tomb fit to lie upon for eternity.

...Of course, the chill and hardness of it also meant that after consciousness was gained, discomfort replaced that sensation. Footsteps could be heard approaching as well, along with the sliding of stone. The dark of this place was nearly impossible to see through, but with each movement of stone a tiny bit of light would shine in...and the silence after each movement would soon be exstinguished by the rhythm of an ongoing conversation.

"Are you sure this is the right place? It was crawling with undead...doesn't quite seem like the kind of place some heroine from another time is going to be," a man's voice said, sounding a bit tired and insistent.

"That would be because of the curse placed upon it. We couldn't risk graverobbers stumbling upon our champion and plundering the Pillar of Worlds. It only works once, and if some plucky bandit dropped it, our last contingency would be shattered to pieces. Or worse," a stern, mature woman's voice would say, dry of mirth and emanating a tone of being "all business".

"...Noted," the male voice would respond.

"...It would seem we were a moment late. Our ward has awoken, the woman spoke again before the light clack of her shoes echoed across the stone floor. Followed closely behind, the man's footsteps were heavy and metallic, sounding like he was wearing some metal boots or armor. As our heroine's eyes adjusted to the light, she'd see that the woman was anything but an ordinary sight, a vision of binary design in how her hair was split down the center, black versus white, with twin sets of horns of those two colors perched upon her head. A cape that matched trailed behind her, making her, quite literally, a living monochrome as she approached.

The man following behind her was a tall figure, and possessed a head of hair that was grayish white, with a tanned complexion that stood out against his sterling white armor. And...pointed ears. Both would approach, with the elvish man lifting an eyebrow.

"...She's made of gold?"

"Yes. It would seem so. You must be confused, young lady...I am Gram. And...you are somewhere that you've never been. How do you feel?" she would ask, her tone dropping a bit of seriousness as she displayed concern, showing that she wasn't quite the icy bitch that one would imagine from her expression and manner of speaking.

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

"What...is that thing!?" Steppe Archer asked, visibly confused at seeing that...thing, sloshing towards them slowly. It sounded vaguely like wet slop being poured over and over, or like mud being stepped on. The direction it was coming from was where the rats had been...and the rats hadn't come back this way.

It was like a mass of disgusting liquid, seeming to know exactly where the group was. "I think we should go back...I don't know what that thing is, but I don't think we can stab something made of water to death." The pragmatic hunter in her deemed that a creature she knew nothing about was unbeatable, and with the lack of rats or roaches in this area, it was likely that this thing's territory was clean of them. "We can double back the other way, and try to find Rats and Roaches elsewhere."

Aether Saga: A Hero's Unlikely Journey (The Irish Tree and Xaltwind)

[Reserved]

Aether Saga: A Hero's Unlikely Journey (The Irish Tree and Xaltwind)

[Reserved for stuff!]

Aether Saga: A Hero's Unlikely Journey (The Irish Tree and Xaltwind)

The World of Aetheria

The State of the World

In a time where peace is desired by all and the darkness that slumbers grows in strength, the realm itself calls out for a champion. A hero. Wherever they have come from is of little importance, but where they arrive is in the center of a moss-covered ruin in the frozen north of Barsiba that has been abandoned for centuries. Two individuals approach, and the adventure begins...

The Nations

The world as it is now is divided into three continents on land, with another in the sky and one in the sea. The terrestrial continents are, in order of size: Barsiba, Malnim, and the smallest one, the island continent of Granvil. Soaring high above everything is the celestial continent of Kalm, where the Skyfolk reside. Below, beneath the waves, lost to the world above is the ocean-sunken realm of Lantmire, where the Marine folk reside far beneath the waves where the sun rarely shines.

The actual political climes aren't all that complicated, with the homogenous ruling power in control of both the lands of Barsiba and Malnim being the Kingdom of Dawn, which, despite the name, is presided over by a council of various races from both continents that elect a singular central ruler, while the council themselves work much like a Parliament would, passing laws into effect and being a check against the King's power.

The Island Nation of Granvil rules the eponymous continent with an isolationist policy, often not wanting to meddle in the affairs of the world. Their society is centered on being a meritocracy that values magecraft highly.

Not only are Gods real in the realm of Aetheria, they rule from on high in Kalm. However, these aren't omnipotent deities but could instead be considered as very powerful immortal beings that choose not to leave their home, to let the world shape itself without their whims after the mad crusade of the Goddess of Light ended in them having to band together to slay their kin in the Final War of Heaven.

Lantmire is a place that takes in all things that flow from the world above, being a myriad of races, cultures, and being an oligarchy ruled over by the Six Sea Houses.

The Races

Earthfolk: Basically, any race that exists either in relatively flat areas, or . Earthfolk come in all manner of shapes and sizes, and contain categories such as Humans, Orcs, and Werecats.

Forestfolk: The kin of beasts that reside mainly within forests, such as Werewolves, Werebears, and Gnolls.

Faefolk: The kin of the fae that manifest from nature, sometimes not necessarily within forests. Includes Elves, Dark Elves, Faeries, and Satyrs.

Mountainfolk: Those who dwell in the rocks and mountains. Includes Dwarves, Goblins, and Ogres.

Skyfolk: Those who can take flight into the sky without abandon, and often make their home in Kalm. Includes Griffons, Rocs, Angels, and Valkyries.

Netherfolk: Descendants of True Devils and Demons from the now vacant hells, long since expunged in the Final War of Heaven. Includes Succubi, Devils, Demons, and Imps.

Nightfolk: Those cursed by the sting of undeath. Despite the general acceptance of most races, Nightfolk are rarely tolerated if they are unable to conceal their undead nature. Includes Liches, Wights, Ghosts, and Vampires.

Scalefolk: Those who bear relation to dragons in some fashion. Includes Dragons, Drakes, Wyrms, Kobolds, and even Lizardfolk.

Farfolk: Spirits of the Far Eastern Land that has long since been lost, taking refuge on the remaining continents. Includes Kitsune, Yuki-Onna, Living Weapons, and Jorogumo.

Seafolk: The people that dwell beneath the waves, all of which are capable of breathing underwater but generally have poor mobility on land. Includes Mermaids, Mersharks, Undine, and any myriad of sea life.

Gearfolk: Artificial beings that have gained sentience and a sense of self. Includes Automatons, Golems, and Homonculi.

Gorgonfolk: Desert-dwelling reptilian individuals that have the lower body of reptiles. Includes Basilisks and Lamia.

The Nature of Magic

Magic in the world of Aetheria is drawn from the environment around oneself, and then channeled inward. Within the bodies of all individuals is a Spiritual Core, a piece of the self that shapes Magic according to a "recipe". This is what a spell is. The internally processed magic is then expelled to whatever effect is desired of it.

Environment is a key factor in spell casting, as one shouldn't expect to be able to expel a torrent of water in an area abundant in lava. There isn't all that much complexity to magic in this realm, with the strength of one's spiritual core affecting their talent for Magic.

However, Magic should also not be viewed as being something that is only used for the casting of spells. Martially aligned individuals are also capable of tapping into their for the usage of techniques known as Sword Arts. Regardless of the weapon used, they are referred to Sword Arts for the sake of simplicity, and can range from spectacular techniques to rival spells, abilities that boost one's physical abilities to the limit, or even flexing raw magical energy through one's body in a flash to repel a spell with force alone, it should not be said that a man with a sword is inferior to a Magus.

Guild of Renta-Experts [[CANCELLED]]

Similar to how Brandy had screamed in bullet-time, Alice would gasp in slow-mo, shocked that the rabbit was still able to move so well even after getting its ears hurt by the bomb. Maybe it was a lot tougher than they anticipated...but that didn't matter now! Alice had no choice but to square up with the horned rabbit to preserver Brandy's dignity, and so that they could get paid!

Alice would flash her claws and take up a fighting pose before dashing in close, using all four of her limbs to keep up. It was a dog eat dog situation, and thankfully, she was half-wolf. Which was like...a super dog. Clashing with a fellow beast wasn't as dramatic as it sounded though, as the rabbit kept delivering swift kicks to her hands each time she'd try to reach out. Its legs were powerful, but they weren't designed for attacking. That horn on the other hand would prove dangerous if it gored Alice...which, judging from its sudden mad dash at her, that was exactly what it intended to do.

The werewolf would grit her teeth and grab the rabbit like it was an incoming football (The cultural sport of werewolves) and slide back as she caught the speeding bullet of a rabbit, struggling against its powerful momentum. The horn just barely poked at her stomach, the rabbit stopped and forced to squirm before a swift blow was delivered to the back of its neck, a death sentence for any rabbit. Sighing, Alice collapsed back and onto her back. "THAT WAS SCARY! I WAS COUNTING ON THE FULL MOON TO FIGHT, AND ITS CLOUDY!?" she yelled aloud, before remembering Brandy. Brandy! Are you alright!?" she asked, after raising a club and unceremoniously bashing the rabbit over the head to make sure it was dead.