Vanq
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The Chaos Ladder
- Last Seen: 7 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Vanquished
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 295 (0.07 / day)
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- Vanq 11 yrs ago
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9 yrs ago
Comic Con for the day, woo!
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9 yrs ago
cComic
9 yrs ago
Can't afford to be neutral on a moving train
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9 yrs ago
8 months? I don't feel like I received enough warning at how quickly time flies the older one gets. Poking around, taking a look.
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9 yrs ago
Work isn't cooperating with giving me time, working on catching up.
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Most Recent Posts
If you're going to get a GameCube, get Eternal Darkness Sanity's Requiem.
She wondered if she was supposed to feel honored, that he had introduced her to his mortal brother’s very mortal granddaughter. A delicious meal assuredly, but connections to the kine world, connections to family if you had the luck to be so young to as still trace such things, were not something Lily focused on. Her eyes stayed on the mirror, her hands ran over the red locks until, frustrated, she pulled it out of its ponytail completely.
The kindred turned at last, flipping her head as she did so to gather her back tight and sleek once more. Satisfied, she stood not far from where Saxon now sat, a hand on her hip. “I have seen kine destroy hotel rooms more in pursuit of sex. I was not going to hurt her too much.” With ease, she bent over to set the table to it’s legs.
Mention of her sire brought a low snarl to her throat, and seeing the look Saxon had in his eyes, Lily set herself down in a chair opposite him, her arms tightly crossed against her chest. “Despicable.” She muttered, Lily had nearly always hated him for what he did to her, and while she was not overly fond of the Camarilla or even the Anarchs, she loathed the Sabbat. “Let’s.” She snapped, eyes searching Saxon. “What’s in the warehouse?”
“In my efforts to gather information on all of the city’s Primogen, I found the hints of a connection between your sire and this warehouse, a purchase run through several different bank accounts and the ghoul of another childe being involved. Rather than stop due to the Sabbat moving in on the property, the two connections seem to coincide. If my suspicions are correct, then your sire has been dealing with the Sabbat, but I cannot act on suspicion alone.” Saxon did not pause in his explanation, commencing as soon as he question was uttered, ignoring her previous statement about the state of the room. It didn’t matter that kine could be worse, kindred had to be more careful.
“If the connection doesn’t exist, well then, you’ll simply have done a great favour for the Kindred community, and I have more on your sire than dodgy connections to the Sabbat. Perhaps enough to unseat them, or at least weaken their power base among the Toreador.”
“Son of a bitch.” She snapped. It was rare for Lily to use vulgarities...vulgar as they were by design. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them a moment later. On edge, perhaps more so because of her recent meal, perhaps only because at long last she had something that could bring down her sire. Something big. If the connection wasn’t there, she quickly wondered if she could manufacture it. Weakening him wouldn’t be enough, but neither did she have the connections to pull to fake evidence of it.
“You know our numbers, you wouldn’t ask this payment if you thought failure was certain.” She leaned forward, not entirely sure that that logic was truthful. He might, if someone else needed them out of the way. It was a fantastic story to spin to one such as herself. If she thought that way though, all was lost. “Two trained fighters, no matter their previous defeats, myself, a gangrel we barely understand, and a Malkavian. And our ghouls, of course.” Lips pressed together, her eyes flicked back and forth as if she was reading something that wasn’t there. “Who owns the neighborhood in the kine world? Crips, Bloods? MS-13? Lasombra inside?”
“MS-13 have a loose hold of the area, but they have no presence in the warehouse. From what I have gathered, the operation is lead by a single Lasombra, with two gangrel antribu, a trio ghouls from out of town, and twice that number in ghouls ‘recruited’ off the streets. The Gangrel lack any real mental stability, perhaps they do not even know they are truly kindred, it would not suprise me with the Sabbat. Everything is an attack dog except the Lasombra.” Saxon ignored, even in terms of a simple subconscious reaction, here outburst, instead following with a response to her question. He had hardly expected her to remain perfectly level headed with the stakes at play, and even if her coterie were of reasonable strength, this would hardly be a walk in the park.
“I will be sending an associate of mine, an Assamite, to accompany you. In part to assist and, honestly, to make sure every aspect of the deal is upheld. Beyond that, she will...probably, do what she is told.” At the corners of his mouth the briefest, minute impression of a grin formed, before being replaced with his previous mask of business. “If this information proves correct, you might find yourself in a race among the Kindred of LA to grant your sire a final death, a fitting end no less.”
Lily let out a low growl. She was not the one to plan the battles, Ivan and Vadim would do so, once she shared this with them. But it did seem manageable, by the numbers at least. And they would be smarter than the pack that had taken up in the warehouse, it had been a long time coming, the boys would jump at it, and Betty would do as she was bid. But an Assamite? That was not a pleasant though. Sending someone to keep an eye on them was one thing, a creature such as that, entirely another.
Negotiating, she reminded herself, was not really a possibility. “Very well.” Her displeasure was not well hidden for that moment. The death of her sire would make it all worth it, it was almost serene, the thought of the long nights that could be spent without his specter hanging over her. The frown morphed into a cruel smile. “As you insist.” But he will be mine. After going through all of this, there was no way in heaven or hell that she would allow anyone else to grant him his demise.
“Delightful to be doing business with you.” She rose, her mind tackling how she would need to present this to the others. There was little time to waste.
((Zach and Vanq))
The kindred turned at last, flipping her head as she did so to gather her back tight and sleek once more. Satisfied, she stood not far from where Saxon now sat, a hand on her hip. “I have seen kine destroy hotel rooms more in pursuit of sex. I was not going to hurt her too much.” With ease, she bent over to set the table to it’s legs.
Mention of her sire brought a low snarl to her throat, and seeing the look Saxon had in his eyes, Lily set herself down in a chair opposite him, her arms tightly crossed against her chest. “Despicable.” She muttered, Lily had nearly always hated him for what he did to her, and while she was not overly fond of the Camarilla or even the Anarchs, she loathed the Sabbat. “Let’s.” She snapped, eyes searching Saxon. “What’s in the warehouse?”
“In my efforts to gather information on all of the city’s Primogen, I found the hints of a connection between your sire and this warehouse, a purchase run through several different bank accounts and the ghoul of another childe being involved. Rather than stop due to the Sabbat moving in on the property, the two connections seem to coincide. If my suspicions are correct, then your sire has been dealing with the Sabbat, but I cannot act on suspicion alone.” Saxon did not pause in his explanation, commencing as soon as he question was uttered, ignoring her previous statement about the state of the room. It didn’t matter that kine could be worse, kindred had to be more careful.
“If the connection doesn’t exist, well then, you’ll simply have done a great favour for the Kindred community, and I have more on your sire than dodgy connections to the Sabbat. Perhaps enough to unseat them, or at least weaken their power base among the Toreador.”
“Son of a bitch.” She snapped. It was rare for Lily to use vulgarities...vulgar as they were by design. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them a moment later. On edge, perhaps more so because of her recent meal, perhaps only because at long last she had something that could bring down her sire. Something big. If the connection wasn’t there, she quickly wondered if she could manufacture it. Weakening him wouldn’t be enough, but neither did she have the connections to pull to fake evidence of it.
“You know our numbers, you wouldn’t ask this payment if you thought failure was certain.” She leaned forward, not entirely sure that that logic was truthful. He might, if someone else needed them out of the way. It was a fantastic story to spin to one such as herself. If she thought that way though, all was lost. “Two trained fighters, no matter their previous defeats, myself, a gangrel we barely understand, and a Malkavian. And our ghouls, of course.” Lips pressed together, her eyes flicked back and forth as if she was reading something that wasn’t there. “Who owns the neighborhood in the kine world? Crips, Bloods? MS-13? Lasombra inside?”
“MS-13 have a loose hold of the area, but they have no presence in the warehouse. From what I have gathered, the operation is lead by a single Lasombra, with two gangrel antribu, a trio ghouls from out of town, and twice that number in ghouls ‘recruited’ off the streets. The Gangrel lack any real mental stability, perhaps they do not even know they are truly kindred, it would not suprise me with the Sabbat. Everything is an attack dog except the Lasombra.” Saxon ignored, even in terms of a simple subconscious reaction, here outburst, instead following with a response to her question. He had hardly expected her to remain perfectly level headed with the stakes at play, and even if her coterie were of reasonable strength, this would hardly be a walk in the park.
“I will be sending an associate of mine, an Assamite, to accompany you. In part to assist and, honestly, to make sure every aspect of the deal is upheld. Beyond that, she will...probably, do what she is told.” At the corners of his mouth the briefest, minute impression of a grin formed, before being replaced with his previous mask of business. “If this information proves correct, you might find yourself in a race among the Kindred of LA to grant your sire a final death, a fitting end no less.”
Lily let out a low growl. She was not the one to plan the battles, Ivan and Vadim would do so, once she shared this with them. But it did seem manageable, by the numbers at least. And they would be smarter than the pack that had taken up in the warehouse, it had been a long time coming, the boys would jump at it, and Betty would do as she was bid. But an Assamite? That was not a pleasant though. Sending someone to keep an eye on them was one thing, a creature such as that, entirely another.
Negotiating, she reminded herself, was not really a possibility. “Very well.” Her displeasure was not well hidden for that moment. The death of her sire would make it all worth it, it was almost serene, the thought of the long nights that could be spent without his specter hanging over her. The frown morphed into a cruel smile. “As you insist.” But he will be mine. After going through all of this, there was no way in heaven or hell that she would allow anyone else to grant him his demise.
“Delightful to be doing business with you.” She rose, her mind tackling how she would need to present this to the others. There was little time to waste.
((Zach and Vanq))
This site is being rebuilt from the ground up. It will be slow at times as it deals with heavy traffic during peak hours. It can take some time, although I can't say I've experienced it taking 5-10 minutes to load a page.
Gulltown Keep
Sini and Vanq Collab
“Ser Baelor Manderly. Reports say he spent a week at Quiet Isle in penitence before sailing on to Gulltown.” Jasper eyed his uncle carefully. They had met the man in the city’s sept, Jasper praying for guidance on choosing a wife, Gilwood ministering to any who entered. The gods had certainly wanted them to meet, and both men had been duly impressed by the knight and those in his company. As with all things though, they had needed to learn more rather than make a rash decision.
“An unusual name for the North, even for the Manderlys.”
“Baelor the Blessed, the only king we’ve had who has recognized the sin born into their blood. This Baelor was the seventh son, aptly born and named it seems. Surely, it is a sign, uncle. But I will not do this without your blessing that the gods have orchestrated this.”
“Seventy-seven knights total. I do not think he plays at a grand jape. We will pray to the Crone for guidance…”
Several hours later, the lord of the Eyrie sent word to Baelor’s camp that he should dine with them that evening. It was not so quiet as Lord Jasper had originally promised, the tourney’s competitions would begin the next day, but he needed an answer ahead of the festivities. The gods seemed to indicate that Baelor was destined for great things, and Jasper would need a holy sword arm in the coming struggle.
Baelor appeared in a coat of mail with a plain white surcoat. He even slept in it. The pious knight was welcomed by some men-at-arms in the colours of Arryn and Grafton who claimed to have heard of him. Shortly after, a chamberlain ushered him through brick corridors, his boots thumping over flagstones until he was presented to Lord Jasper Arryn of the Vale… a boy of only sixteen years old, but playing at being a man. At least, that was what they said about the youth. Nevertheless, Baelor disagreed. They had spoken for a short while, when he had come calling in Gulltown’s sept. Jasper’s uncle, Gilwood, had been the clergyman in presence and so it had been he who had placed the Seven’s blessing on his forehead with sacred oil. Ser Baelor made a quick bow, adhering to protocol and expressed his thanks for the invitation. “You wished to see me, your lordships,” he said, clearing his throat.
It was a simple, although hearty, meal Jasper had had prepared and brought to the small dining chamber. It was not the face of youthful arrogance he wore, but that of genuine curiosity and interest. All that he had learned of Baelor pointed to the fact that he was quite unique. “Yes, please be seated with us.” The lord gestured to the chair opposite Septon Gilwood, and next to himself. Simple clothes and the same humble demeanor that he had had at the sept. Jasper was just eight years his junior, but looking at the lines on the knight’s face made the lord feel younger still. He knew the talk of the Vale and visitors alike. He had been a boy-lord for all of his reign up until recently. Gods willing, they would be shown the error of their beliefs.
“Tell me, Ser Baelor, and speak frankly - we will have it no other way - how do you find Westeros these days? White Harbor surely brings news from the rest of the realms. What are your thoughts on these seven kingdoms?” Cool and steady, he sought an answer that could not be easy for many to answer, at least for those who cared more for political maneuverings than truth and reality.
“I find it ever harder to find the light. It seems that with every passing day the Seven shine less and less on the faithful,” he spoke assuredly, unflinching. Ser Baelor was not confined by the trappings of lordship or power. He was his own man, devoted to the one true faith, his sword and shield sworn to uphold what was right.
“Heresy grows from idleness and poisons the mind. Now, brother kills brother and eludes justice in the house of kings. Not for the first time, my Lord Jasper. A bastard sits on the Small Council, a man who also slew his own brother and two of his sons. Brother fornicates with sister, and have done so for generations. I consider that an abomination and offense to the Seven. How can we be surprised that the fruit of their incest is rotten to the core?” Baelor sighed deeply and collected his thoughts. In other company, this would have been deemed the purest of treason. “It seems malice is rewarded, debauchery encouraged. I pray, but seldom answers come. Verily, I feel tested.”
Ser Baelor Manderly clenched his fist as he continued his monologue, his mail sleeve rattling. “And yet, I hope. Not all who stumble or fall have lost their way. I try to show them, bring them into the loving embrace of the Seven, deliver them from evil…” The young Northern knight smiled apologetically. “My apologies, I did not mean to go on about it.”
Lord Jasper and Septon Gilwood shared a long look, they shared the same thoughts so frequently that no words needed to pass between them. The silent agreement reached between them, both sets of eyes returned to the knight. “There is no need to apologize, ser.” It was the septon who spoke, his words weighty, sonorous. “There are times where surely you must have felt very alone, with those beliefs. Do not feel alone any longer.”
Jasper leaned forward, eager and with the fire burning in his eyes again. “I am sending an army to Andalos, Ser Baelor. The gods have shown their favor on the expedition, and should we honor them on their holy ground, I believe...I know, that we can set Westeros to rights again. The Faith will be cleansed and pure once more, lords and ladies and kings will have no choice but to submit wholeheartedly to the Seven.” He searched his companion’s face, “You are too right, the kingdoms are a disgrace to gods and man and too few see it. Too many generations have strayed from the gods and their teachings, we must atone for our sins and the sins of our fathers. Andalos was lost, but we will find it once more and rebuild it, with a great sept to honor our makers.”
The septon spoke up again, giving Jasper time to allow the fire to cool. “We have prayed, and the answer was that you are called to play a role in this. Will you answer that call?”
It was as if a ray of light suddenly enveloped him and pierced his very being, illuminating his tormented soul. These two righteous men had taken up the Sevens cause, and had the means and position to further it considerably. Ser Baelor dropped to his knees, mouth agape, his coat of mail jingling. Practically prostrating himself, he clasped his gloved hands together and nodded. “A cause as just as this…,” the Manderly knight muttered, searching for words. “I will, as will the rest of the Seventy-Seven. We have been looking for something as worthy. So yes,” he said filled with fervour. “Bless me, Septon Gilwood, and my sword is yours.”
Chairs scraped on the hard ground as both men rose from their seats. Lord Jasper clasped his hand to the knight’s shoulder. “Thank you Ser Baelor, there cannot be a more honorable and righteous man to be at the vanguard of this most holy endeavor. You will receive this blessing first, and all your men as well. You will be anointed as Captain of the Swords of the Seven.”
Septon Gilwood pulled a small vial of holy oil from his robes. “May the father guide in finding justice in an unjust world. May the love of the Mother shine through you to those in need of compassion. May the Warrior lend strength to your sword arm and lead you to victory. May the Maiden keep you pure and chaste. May the Smith give you strength of mind and body to see this work done. May the Crone impart her wisdom, that your path is clear no matter the haze.” Gilwood paused for just a moment, his finger that was dipped in oil resting still on the knight’s forehead. “And may the Stranger say ‘not today’ and keep hidden from you the unknown and death.”
The aged septon took a step back. “Rise Ser Baelor, Captain of the Swords of the Seven. May the gods shine on you and all you do.”
Ser Baelor blinked his eyes and basked in holiness, when he rose to his feet he saw the world anew. There was so much work to be done, for the Seven had chosen him to be their tool. “We will all carry the light of the Faith.” His sense of destiny satisfied, Baelor humbly bowed before the Lord of the Vale and Septon Gilwood. “May the Seven never find me wanting.”
“Come, sit again, and eat. When we finish our meal, you will lead us to your men so that they may be anointed as well.” Jasper clasped the knight’s shoulder once more and returned to his seat. The meal of leeks, beans, and simple rabbit meat seemed all the more heavenly. “I will announce our plans for all of Westeros at the tourney’s end, and I will have you by my side.”
Sini and Vanq Collab
“Ser Baelor Manderly. Reports say he spent a week at Quiet Isle in penitence before sailing on to Gulltown.” Jasper eyed his uncle carefully. They had met the man in the city’s sept, Jasper praying for guidance on choosing a wife, Gilwood ministering to any who entered. The gods had certainly wanted them to meet, and both men had been duly impressed by the knight and those in his company. As with all things though, they had needed to learn more rather than make a rash decision.
“An unusual name for the North, even for the Manderlys.”
“Baelor the Blessed, the only king we’ve had who has recognized the sin born into their blood. This Baelor was the seventh son, aptly born and named it seems. Surely, it is a sign, uncle. But I will not do this without your blessing that the gods have orchestrated this.”
“Seventy-seven knights total. I do not think he plays at a grand jape. We will pray to the Crone for guidance…”
Several hours later, the lord of the Eyrie sent word to Baelor’s camp that he should dine with them that evening. It was not so quiet as Lord Jasper had originally promised, the tourney’s competitions would begin the next day, but he needed an answer ahead of the festivities. The gods seemed to indicate that Baelor was destined for great things, and Jasper would need a holy sword arm in the coming struggle.
Baelor appeared in a coat of mail with a plain white surcoat. He even slept in it. The pious knight was welcomed by some men-at-arms in the colours of Arryn and Grafton who claimed to have heard of him. Shortly after, a chamberlain ushered him through brick corridors, his boots thumping over flagstones until he was presented to Lord Jasper Arryn of the Vale… a boy of only sixteen years old, but playing at being a man. At least, that was what they said about the youth. Nevertheless, Baelor disagreed. They had spoken for a short while, when he had come calling in Gulltown’s sept. Jasper’s uncle, Gilwood, had been the clergyman in presence and so it had been he who had placed the Seven’s blessing on his forehead with sacred oil. Ser Baelor made a quick bow, adhering to protocol and expressed his thanks for the invitation. “You wished to see me, your lordships,” he said, clearing his throat.
It was a simple, although hearty, meal Jasper had had prepared and brought to the small dining chamber. It was not the face of youthful arrogance he wore, but that of genuine curiosity and interest. All that he had learned of Baelor pointed to the fact that he was quite unique. “Yes, please be seated with us.” The lord gestured to the chair opposite Septon Gilwood, and next to himself. Simple clothes and the same humble demeanor that he had had at the sept. Jasper was just eight years his junior, but looking at the lines on the knight’s face made the lord feel younger still. He knew the talk of the Vale and visitors alike. He had been a boy-lord for all of his reign up until recently. Gods willing, they would be shown the error of their beliefs.
“Tell me, Ser Baelor, and speak frankly - we will have it no other way - how do you find Westeros these days? White Harbor surely brings news from the rest of the realms. What are your thoughts on these seven kingdoms?” Cool and steady, he sought an answer that could not be easy for many to answer, at least for those who cared more for political maneuverings than truth and reality.
“I find it ever harder to find the light. It seems that with every passing day the Seven shine less and less on the faithful,” he spoke assuredly, unflinching. Ser Baelor was not confined by the trappings of lordship or power. He was his own man, devoted to the one true faith, his sword and shield sworn to uphold what was right.
“Heresy grows from idleness and poisons the mind. Now, brother kills brother and eludes justice in the house of kings. Not for the first time, my Lord Jasper. A bastard sits on the Small Council, a man who also slew his own brother and two of his sons. Brother fornicates with sister, and have done so for generations. I consider that an abomination and offense to the Seven. How can we be surprised that the fruit of their incest is rotten to the core?” Baelor sighed deeply and collected his thoughts. In other company, this would have been deemed the purest of treason. “It seems malice is rewarded, debauchery encouraged. I pray, but seldom answers come. Verily, I feel tested.”
Ser Baelor Manderly clenched his fist as he continued his monologue, his mail sleeve rattling. “And yet, I hope. Not all who stumble or fall have lost their way. I try to show them, bring them into the loving embrace of the Seven, deliver them from evil…” The young Northern knight smiled apologetically. “My apologies, I did not mean to go on about it.”
Lord Jasper and Septon Gilwood shared a long look, they shared the same thoughts so frequently that no words needed to pass between them. The silent agreement reached between them, both sets of eyes returned to the knight. “There is no need to apologize, ser.” It was the septon who spoke, his words weighty, sonorous. “There are times where surely you must have felt very alone, with those beliefs. Do not feel alone any longer.”
Jasper leaned forward, eager and with the fire burning in his eyes again. “I am sending an army to Andalos, Ser Baelor. The gods have shown their favor on the expedition, and should we honor them on their holy ground, I believe...I know, that we can set Westeros to rights again. The Faith will be cleansed and pure once more, lords and ladies and kings will have no choice but to submit wholeheartedly to the Seven.” He searched his companion’s face, “You are too right, the kingdoms are a disgrace to gods and man and too few see it. Too many generations have strayed from the gods and their teachings, we must atone for our sins and the sins of our fathers. Andalos was lost, but we will find it once more and rebuild it, with a great sept to honor our makers.”
The septon spoke up again, giving Jasper time to allow the fire to cool. “We have prayed, and the answer was that you are called to play a role in this. Will you answer that call?”
It was as if a ray of light suddenly enveloped him and pierced his very being, illuminating his tormented soul. These two righteous men had taken up the Sevens cause, and had the means and position to further it considerably. Ser Baelor dropped to his knees, mouth agape, his coat of mail jingling. Practically prostrating himself, he clasped his gloved hands together and nodded. “A cause as just as this…,” the Manderly knight muttered, searching for words. “I will, as will the rest of the Seventy-Seven. We have been looking for something as worthy. So yes,” he said filled with fervour. “Bless me, Septon Gilwood, and my sword is yours.”
Chairs scraped on the hard ground as both men rose from their seats. Lord Jasper clasped his hand to the knight’s shoulder. “Thank you Ser Baelor, there cannot be a more honorable and righteous man to be at the vanguard of this most holy endeavor. You will receive this blessing first, and all your men as well. You will be anointed as Captain of the Swords of the Seven.”
Septon Gilwood pulled a small vial of holy oil from his robes. “May the father guide in finding justice in an unjust world. May the love of the Mother shine through you to those in need of compassion. May the Warrior lend strength to your sword arm and lead you to victory. May the Maiden keep you pure and chaste. May the Smith give you strength of mind and body to see this work done. May the Crone impart her wisdom, that your path is clear no matter the haze.” Gilwood paused for just a moment, his finger that was dipped in oil resting still on the knight’s forehead. “And may the Stranger say ‘not today’ and keep hidden from you the unknown and death.”
The aged septon took a step back. “Rise Ser Baelor, Captain of the Swords of the Seven. May the gods shine on you and all you do.”
Ser Baelor blinked his eyes and basked in holiness, when he rose to his feet he saw the world anew. There was so much work to be done, for the Seven had chosen him to be their tool. “We will all carry the light of the Faith.” His sense of destiny satisfied, Baelor humbly bowed before the Lord of the Vale and Septon Gilwood. “May the Seven never find me wanting.”
“Come, sit again, and eat. When we finish our meal, you will lead us to your men so that they may be anointed as well.” Jasper clasped the knight’s shoulder once more and returned to his seat. The meal of leeks, beans, and simple rabbit meat seemed all the more heavenly. “I will announce our plans for all of Westeros at the tourney’s end, and I will have you by my side.”
Cadvin said
Honestly, I would just make it clear that you don't expect magic to be too powerful. Don't accept anyone that you think is taking it too far, and if someone does something out of line give them a talking to and make them retcon their post. It's a much more surefire solution than imposing restrictions on the magic system itself, because it's almost always easier to find a loophole than to plug them.
On the few times I've had magic play a part in an rp, this is pretty much what I've done. "Use common sense." If there's an issue with me feeling that the magic used is overpowered would be dealt with in a pm to the person.
I've had 2 games I've gm'd that dealt with magic.
One was meant to be an over the top exploration of a fantasy world. You played regular people thrown into a fantasy setting, essentially waking up to find that all of the sudden you're in a "video game" fantasy world. Firebomb spells that could wipe out a village? Sure, why not. It was meant to be (darkly) funny more than anything else.
The other game was more on the serious side of things. Magic was rare and not well understood. Anyone born with magic only had 1 talent (as I called it), 1 specific thing they could do, and it could be just about anything barring time-space manipulation (I just find that doesn't work well in rp'ing). With each magic ability though, came an innate repercussion to the user. One char, for example, was able to alter memories of another person. However, each time she did so, she lost a memory of her own. Sometimes big important stuff, other times something insignificant. That was the balance.
Nation and Table top are different style of play, not just a genre difference, hence them getting their own division (as by their nature they do not so easily fit into the free/cas/adv divisions that RPG uses). Slice of Life can easily be classified as one of those depending on the gm's posting requirements.
Present and working on a collab with Zach.
Sini did.
I'm a fan of HeySeuss' int check/ooc structure.
Check it out.
Check it out.
Feel free to post other happenings and interactions before focusing on the tourney itself, if it suits you to introduce your chars to Gulltown. But the results are listed below for when you're ready to use them.
Squire's Events
Joust
Alric Sarwyck (Gowi): to be knighted
Melee
Raymund Storm (Babbysama): to be knighted
Knight's Events
Joust
Rory Reyne (Ethanjory): First Place, suit of armor, destrier, 1000 gold dragons & the honor of naming the queen of love and beauty
Gazébor the Reckless (Flagg): Second Place, 750 gold dragons
Jonas Sarwyck (Gowi): Third Place, 400 gold dragons
Melee
Otho Bracken (Sini): First Place, weapon, 1000 gold dragons
Baelor Manderly (Sini): Second Place, 750 gold dragons
Oswald Brune (Cold): Third Place, 400 gold dragons
Injured List
Lyonel "the Laughing Storm" Baratheon (Babbysama): in the joust
Addam Frey (Sini): in the melee
Steffon Frey (Sini): in the squire's melee
Rory Reyne (Ethanjory): in the melee
General Recap of the Rest
Good showings, bested many men
Jhavek Hill (Gowi), joust
Franklyn Frey (Sini), joust
Addam Frey (Sini), joust
Gerold "the Laughing Lion" Lannister (Zach), joust
Fair Showings
Gazébor the Reckless of the Tyrell Court (Flagg), melee
Raymund Storm (Babbysama), squire's joust
Mediocre Showings, bested lesser men
Oswald Brune (Cold), joust
Lyonel "the Laughing Storm" Baratheon (Babbysama), melee
Baelor Manderly (Sini), joust
Franklyn Frey (Sini), melee
Steffon Frey (Sini), squire's joust
Gerold "the Laughing Lion" Lannister (Zach), melee
Poor Showings
Jonas Sarwyck (Gowi), melee
Jhavek Hill (Gowi), melee
Alric Sarwyck (Gowi), squire's melee
Otho Bracken (Sini), joust
Daeron "the Drunk" Targaryen (Joytex), joust
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