STATUS:
Say "thanks," when they compliment you and smile. Watch more of what's going on around you instead of staying inside your head. If eye contact's hard, stare at her forehead.
15 days ago
Current
Say "thanks," when they compliment you and smile. Watch more of what's going on around you instead of staying inside your head. If eye contact's hard, stare at her forehead.
1
like
30 days ago
@ColdAtlus: Cheems.
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1 mo ago
If commissioning an artist isn't possible, could look into using AI and then editing what it puts out. Lots of ppl are salty about AI art so maybe use a disclaimer, but it's an option.
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2 mos ago
1-liners become impossible if you actually write. What're your characters' 5 senses picking up? What emotions/thoughts do they have as they speak? What body language do they show? No bulli, just fact.
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2 mos ago
In the AI era, you can only get ghosted if you choose to be.
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Bio
On CST time, United States. Typically busy most of the week and do most posting/replying on weekends.
XD Memes aside, I feel like since Alistair's motives for making the journey were because of a vision he claims to have had and his Order within the Inquisition were kind of opposed to it ("Are you crazy? Don't you know that's the vampire king!?" "Yes." "...Yes to which one?!") he probably wouldn't be in the position to have authority over a prisoner. Also, it'd present a difficulty for Chance since I don't think the church would want his penance to be "go steal something from this other guy."
I do really like the idea of a doomed NPC though, maybe to introduce or raise the actual stakes of the danger we face. And maybe whoever hired Chance, or whatever his "target" within the castle is, presents the opportunity for more wealth than he's ever dreamed of having? Or maybe if he ran away, he'd never be able to enjoy "free" life again without looking over his shoulder? Bounty hunters, the headsman's axe, excommunication from the church, being declared an outlaw by the kingdom (thus no rights under the law), etc? His ONLY option being, "Gotta finish this last job!"
To confirm, Zeroth, does the Bufonite count as an ore of some sort?
Oh right, lemme make an edit.
EDIT: Added to post. So, Bufonite isn't a metal ore that would count for the quest, but it's a type of "magic stone" that can be used for crafting and other things. Bowbh might be able to work with it, IF he has access to other materials.
Level Up: Skill Rank Point selected. Murderous Intent selected!
Murderous Intent - Rank I - Focus hatred and the desire to kill through the subtle senses. A creature that is weaker than you must exert its willpower or be Intimidated (Intimidated creatures suffer reduced speed). A creature that is already Intimidated, Shocked, or Unaware may instead become Fearful and be unable to act for 5 seconds. Creatures that are stronger than you can only be Intimidated by this Skill if they are already Shocked or Unaware, but their willpower threshold is higher.
At Rank II, creatures weaker than you will be made Fearful instead of Intimidated. If they are already Intimidated, Shocked, or Unaware, the effect of Fearful will be extended to 10 seconds. Creatures that are equal to you will suffer Rank I effects.
Skewered Tatzelwurm has been dismantled! Partially Frozen Harpy has been dismantled! Some components have been damaged or are unusable.
Harpy Tooth x1 Harpy Talon x3 Broken Harpy Talon x1 Harpy Wing Membrane x2 Harpy Screech Valve x1 Harpy Skin Strips x2 Raw Harpy Meat 9 lbs (14 lbs w/blood, bones, organs, etc)
You've Cooked a Meal: Roasted Tatzelwurm Meat! Consumed: 1 Serving, Roasted Tatzelwurm Meat Activate [Ingestion: Tatzelwurm] (Y/N)? Approximate Ingestion: 0 > 35% Warning: This will ERASE current Ingestion! Current Ingestion: [Pimpleshroom 10%] Ingestible Skills [Pimpleshroom]: Further Progress Required. Detected Ingestible Skills from [Tatzelwurm]!
[Slash]
[Poison Attack]
[???] - Further Progress Required.
The huge orc blacksmith, the one the other adults called Bowbh, worked under a simple wooden shed. Several tall wooden posts had been planted into the earth, and thinner branches formed a frame for a sloping straw roof on one side. Underneath this shed, a furnace of fired clay bricks had been built along with bellows made from animal skins. Crude tables of both wood and stone held various tools and a few works in progress, although for a "blacksmith" it seemed like he worked as much with tree branches and knapped blades as much as he did with any actual metal. In place of an anvil he simply had a huge, square slab of stone. Its upper half had been blackened over time by the heat of objects laid upon it, and a fine layer of ash and soot.
He looked up with his one bright eye as Esfir approached. One of his hands rhythmically tugged a rope to work the bellows, which in return pushed the fire up through the top of the kiln. Its bright yellow glow cast shadows over the workshop even in the afternoon light.
"Use 'em...tools?" The big orc's voice sounded a rumbling thundercloud. Much like the orc Esfir had run into near the northern caves, Bowbh was probably one of the "Brute" variants of the species. "F'r wot?"
Esfir stated that she also wanted him to look at the ore chunks she'd found. She gave her bag a shake, but didn't actually show the blacksmith what was inside--but, when that distinct clickity clack rang out, the blacksmith stopped working the bellows.
"Rock-forming metallic ore?!" said the Orc with oddly perfect enunciation. He took one booming step towards Esfir and held his hand out--not for the cooked bird monster, but for her bag. Assuming she at least let him see the pieces of ore inside, if not give him a piece to examine, he would suck a sharp breath through his nose and blow it out with a satisfied "Oooooh!"
"Chalco...pyrite. Copper-iron-sulfide!" The fingers of one broad, gloved hand wiggled and twitched in excitement. "And...Bufonite? Not metal, but magic!" He would return whatever Esfir had presented, then his voice rumbled again.
"Whur 'um...got dis?" After hearing her answer, he rubbed his chin, looked back at his tools, and then back at the Runt. "F'r meat...giv'um one tool'r'weapon--small, mind." Then he pointed at her bag again. "If'um git mores..." He held up five fingers, "Letcha use m'pick." He gestured to his kiln. "And...will forge f'r 'um."
A new Optional Quest is available! Quest: Get Ore for Bowbh Quest Giver: Bowbh the Blacksmith Quest Details: Bowbh needs more ore to make various things for the tribe. If you bring him at least 5 Ore Pieces, he will forge you one item of your choice (so long as the needed materials are available). No time limit. Other Options:
Bring an Ore of High Quality
Bring more than 5 Ore Pieces
Bring a Rare Ore
Do you Accept? Y/N
@King Cosmos "Hm?" Shamar looked at Akeno with a tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow. "Anudda Runt, huh? Interestin'." She then looked at the hanging animals she'd been about to select, and over at some of the other hides she'd been working on. Nodding to herself, she gestured for Akeno to follow her and walked around the side of the yurt.
"You got a Sharp Rock or a knife? Den flesh 'em for me!" She pointed to two more freshly peeled hides. They were lying across a small piece of propped up wood that would remind Akeno of a miniature ironing board, set at a forty-five degree angle. Fur side down, they'd been stretched over the fleshing board and apparently freshly washed in a dingy bucket of water nearby. The remaining bits of fat and flesh that had once bound the hides to their owners faced the sunlight. "Try not to put any holes in them, but get the blood and gunk off while they're fresh!"
Then, Shamar pointed to another bucket near the back of the yurt. This one appeared to be filled with chunky, crystalline rock salts. "When ya finish scrapin', salt 'em down good and thick! Lay 'em on a rock with da fur underneath so's dey start dryin'." Then, the Head Hunter walked back to the front of the yurt, taking Akeno by the shoulder and turning her to look towards the large, smelly tub and a few hides hanging over a sawhorse made from lashed logs. "Dem there already been salted, so put 'em in the tannin' tub and push 'em 'round with a stick til they good and soaked!"
Finally, the orcish ranger indicated several hides that had been tied between wooden frames. "Then, ya go to them over there! They already been tanned and smoked dry--use dat wooden comb, right dere, and rub 'em down good til da fur side is soft. Then gather 'em up and bring 'em to me!"
A new Optional Quest is available! Quest: Tannery Crash Course Quest Giver: Shamar the Head Hunter Quest Details: Shamar processes various animal products for the tribe. She's given you a list of steps, each of which would normally take a day or more on its own, to complete with pre-prepared animal skins. Correctly perform each step before gathering the already finished hides and delivering them to Shamar. Time Limit: Before sunset.
Do you Accept? Y/N
"If ya get done quick, I might 'ave a li'l sumthin' for ya!" Shamar patted the runt on the head, then pulled the stone knife from her belt and started butchering one of the hanging animals.
Judging by the position of the sun, and making a rough guess at all these chores she'd been given, Akeno could probably finish this task in around two hours, if that was what she wanted to spend what was left of the afternoon doing...
South Caves
@Kazemitsu As Grunthor leaned away from the web-ball, the other Runt advanced forward waving his torch back and forth. The spider scuttled back again, dripping fluid from its two wounds. When Grunthor threw his Sharp Rock, the arachnid scuttled faster in order to dodge--but rather than go forward at the torch, it kept going back. As the ember-eyed orcling saw further ahead, he let out an "Aha!" and pointed one finger of his knife hand up at the spider's head.
"[Miasma Bolt!]"
The crackling lance of darkness once again shot through the air, but the spider could easily see it coming. It backed up once more--and now revealed that this part of the cave curved around towards another tunnel. It had hit the edge of the roof, and was now scuttling down the sloping wall at the corner. It wasn't on the ground--but, it was within reach!
"Catch!" said the dark-haired runt as he kicked Grunthor's rock (which had, of course, fallen on the ground again after being lobbed) back towards the former boxer. With both torch and knife at the ready, he closed in from one side of the spider. "See if you can crush its legs!"
In their peripheral vision, both orcs would see that the curving tunnel sloped deeper down into the earth. The drag-marks also continued down the path. But, against the side of the wall further down, where the torch's light barely illuminated, was something lumpy and green wearing animal hides, unmoving...
Obtained Items: Petrified Fragment x6 Turtleshell Mushroom x2 (2/5 For Quest!)
The stealthy Orcling was able to avoid arousing any suspicion from the Beetles. As they reached the Red Cream colony, their sharp mandibles snip-snapped the fat mushroom stalks with ease and they quickly began shredding and eating the white-and-red fungi. With them distracted, Agar was able to pick up his two primary targets, the green, shell-textured mushrooms. He was also able to get the six strange pieces of what seemed to be petrified wood.
From the look of their shapes, they had once been a singular branch. But after being petrified, they'd also been broken. While lighter than stone, they were no less hard or cold. But for wood to petrify took...well, a long time, didn't it? Yet these pieces were just here on top of the grass, as if the branch had fallen in a recent storm?
In any case, he'd accomplished what he wanted to in this particular area of the forest. He could either go north, south, or east...West would just take him back to the Hodag's hunting ground and that large red bird. Maybe he could risk that, if he thought they'd moved on in the twenty minutes or so he'd spent sneaking around?
Speaking of time, though, if he was right about the sun's position being roughly 2:00 PM when he'd gotten to this Deep Forest, then he'd probably spent about forty minutes hunting for mushrooms so far. He could afford to spend a little more time here, but the hour-long trip back to the Orc Camp probably wasn't one he wanted to make in the dark.
Alistair: *his head is bowed in prayer* "May the Lord have mercy upon my enemies..." *his eyes snap open as his expression turns fierce* "For I shall not."
"The Lord sees the righteous and hears their cry; but His face is against the evil, to blot out their name from the earth."
༺♱༻
Gender: Male | Race: Human | Class: Inquisitor | Age: 22
Equipment:
Bible - The Holy Texts of the Church. The power of the Miracles depends on your faith.
Vestment of the Priest - Robes worn by the ordained. The various meanings and ranks of individual pieces are too much to expound here. Alistair's are well-traveled, but the prayers within their threads provides a small defense against evil powers.
Light Maille - Mundane links of iron, hidden beneath his vestments. Provides some resistance to injury from blades.
Assorted Blades - A light side-sword, three daggers, two boot knives, and a concealed penknife in one of his cross medallions. Numerous prayers and vigils were performed over them, granting a small boon against the supernatural.
Light Traveler's Kit - The barest essentials for walking the roads.
Skills:
Acrobatic - Being an Inquisitor often means keeping oneself out of sight in order to gather information, or following suspects through hidden passageways. Alistair's natural build tends towards lithe agility rather than tough muscle, as he leaps between rooftops or scales walls to hunt heretics...or any other abomination of the night.
Intermediate Fencer - A novice by no means, but not quite a master of the sword. Alistair favors tactics that focus on deflection and avoidance until he can be sure of a killing blow.
Expert Knife Fighter - Even thrown, small blades are deadly in his hands. Alistair isn't afraid to mix it up close and personal, and will even fight "dirty" if it means bringing his opponent down with him.
Investigation - Torturing people just means they'll say anything to make the pain stop. To do the Lord's work means being thorough and, above all, seeking Truth no matter how inconvenient it might be to those of "social grace." Behind Alistair's grim countenance and somewhat unstable emotions, a sharp mind constantly searches for facts and patterns.
Miracle: Holy Barrier - "Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may stand against the devil." Through faith, prayer, or a symbol of divinity, those who are granted this Miracle among their spiritual gifts can designate an area in space that evil cannot penetrate. Like a brick wall, or bubble floating atop the water, those covered by it will be protected...if the Lord be with them.
Holy Barrier: Apocrypha - "If there be any virtue, if any praise--think on these things." Just as reading other books alongside Scripture is helpful to one's education, there are some who have come to use Miracles in unique, yet non-heretical fashion. Alistair is one thus gifted by the Lord. Able to shape the geometric form of the Holy Barrier into relatively simple shapes--such as two wheels that grind his foe like millstones--he is able to use its defensive qualities with more versatility.
Alistair did not have a surname for most of his life. The old Mother Superior gave him his name, after he was found on the steps of the orphanage. He assumes those early years were happy, wherever they are buried deep, deep within his memory.
Then the Mother Superior passed away, and an eager man of the cloth volunteered to take charge of the grounds and the children. He taught them to sing in the choir, fed them, played with them, mended their clothes...And one day, he found Alistair sketching the distant view of the church against the sunset. He flattered the boy with praise, and invited Alistair to see some of the priest's own collection.
Unfortunately, Alistair's lessons did not stop at art. When he looks back at the gallery of his life now, a cold sickness knots in his stomach. So many images, burned into his eyes, that more than once he asked the Lord to take his sight away. How easy it is, for those with evil hearts to paint themselves a false face; to hide the cracks in their soul like a vain woman's wrinkles!
The boy turned to his only hope--the Word. He prayed, and fasted, and studied the scriptures. He tried to be "better." He tried to repent of whatever sins he had committed. And then, one day, when the priest invited another child to see his "art," Alistair heard the Holy Spirit speak to him, clear as day.
He was only twelve years old, yet a righteous fury filled him as he kicked the door open. He still remembers the priest's face as the knife went between his ribs. His face still stings when he recalls the candelabra, its arms still alight, and the heavy blow across his face. They weren't the first scars he had suffered from this man, but they would be the last. Yet he was still a child, and his abuser a man full grown.
Until he was granted a Miracle. Alistair had never been instructed in such things, but he called out to Heaven and received an answer. The image in his mind's eye took shape as his mouth spoke the verse:
"It were better for him that a millstone be hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones."
A crowd of children rushed to the church for sanctuary. Days later, the Inquisition arrived. The man they sought to question had been crushed to mere pulp; his flesh had burned, and even his bones were ground to dust. Amidst the blackened wreckage of the orphanage, they found Alistair sitting untouched by debris, smoke, or ash, yet his face was bloodcrusted and his lips cracked and dry. But he was smiling.
Ten years later, a young Inquisitor by the last name "Miller" approached Gransylva. A vision, seen at the altar, drove him to wage a Holy Crusade against the Vampire King...even if his Order hesitated to support him...
Even to Miyuki's highly tuned reflexes, Satoshi's speed was unnatural. His roundhouse kick--did this past-middle-aged politician really have such martial arts skills?--slammed into her ribs like a baseball bat! Spittle flew from Miyuki's lips as the breath was driven from her lungs, and she tumbled across the stage floor like a ragdoll. Two more of the brainwashed crowd were coming at her, but she struggled to get up. She hacked and choked, trying desperately to get the oxygen she needed to move her aching body...
Satoshi revealed a weapon of his own as he taunted the downed girl--but he'd forgotten about her demon. Lham Dearg's sword slashed across his back, parting the white robes and staining them with blood. The politician groaned in pain as he fell to the ground. Yet...he still moved?! The Lham Dearg narrowed his eyes and raised his blade again. This human had been empowered somehow, beyond merely having the ability to contract with Demons. They needed to finish him before any more of that power could be brought to bear!
But Miyuki's shrill gasps reached his ear before the undead could bring down his bloodied steel. With an angry growl, he chose his mistress over ending the fight for good.
The cultist with the bike chain whipped it above their head in wide circles, preparing to bring it down with all the built up momentum. Likewise, the one with the bat drew it back with both hands, aiming a home-run swing at Miyuki's blonde head--
"Critical Wave!" Even before he reached them, Lham Dearg's sword sliced horizontally through the air. A glowing shockwave of power was released from his blade--when the energy struck both humans in the back, they pitched forward! Both of them flew over Miyuki, and fell headfirst off the edge of the stage!
"Arms 'boon yer heid, mah lassie!" Lham Dearg barked as he grabbed Miyuki by her hood and lifted her to her feet with one hand. Then, he reached behind his hip for his shield, and took up a defensive stance in front of his master as they saw Satoshi getting back to his feet. "He's pure tough, bit he bleeds! We wull win this rammy yit!"
"Wh-why...is he s-so st-strong?" Miyuki coughed as her lungs finally started working again. "Is it...magic f-from his d-d-demons?" Her companion growled again.
"Mayhaps...th' power o' th' whispers?" she heard Lham Dearg say. But it sounded like the Scotts-fae himself wasn't sure, either. Miyuki had no idea what a "whisper" was supposed to mean. Did he mean an actual whisper, like Satoshi was hearing voices or something? Or was it part of the demon's strange accent, referring to a different thing entirely?
"Ye dunderheided gowk!" roared Lham Dearg at Satoshi, banging his sword against his shield. "Coupon me alone! Or urr ye a mere feartie-cat!?" The demonic soldier used his shield to hide both his swordhand, and Miyuki standing behind him, from Satoshi's sight. But, step by step, he drew a little closer to the politician...it seemed clear he had a plan, but what direction would that sword come from? Its blade had already wounded Satoshi once--was he in the mood to take another?
See, now you've fed them and they'll come back for more. Don't delete this thread, A because I don't have my CS saved, and B because it's not even worth it.
"Intellectual property" entails a lot more than a list of "Name, Age, What Kinda Magic You Got?," and so forth. Like I said, sorting stuff like this out politely is fine but it wasn't worth arguing that someone should be locked in a pillory for it. It was all ridiculous virtue signaling and I called it out as such.
Also, no-can-do on the suit. I'll wear jeans that are only a little wrinkled, though.
"If you don't like it just go somewhere else" is the same trash logic that corporations use to pay you less than you're worth, and that roommates/guardians/partners use to abuse you in your own home. And apparently, that writers use to defend plagiarists. I'm not buying it. Sorry, not sorry.
This is a website where people make stuff up for fun, dear. No one's going to hurt you here. Calm down.
Vlad owes @Kiragan_Natsuki a PUBLIC apology which involves IMMEDIATELY editing out their work from his rp and replacing it with his own original character sheet. And although it's better shown than told, it should also include a resolution never to do this again, especially not doing this to a two-year-old thread in the assumption that no one would notice. If he doesn't, then everything he produces for a thread from here on out is suspect, and he is still a plagiarist even if he stops stealing from this moment. Because he's still benefiting from something someone else wrote.
And what if he doesn't? He will continue to live rent-free in your head for the rest of time as an idealized straw-man that will make you froth at the mouth every time you remember this moment he refused to abide by your swift and righteous justice?
You wouldn't buy from a shop that peddles fenced goods, so why should a game which fences ideas be any different? Because it's "just a hobby, that means integrity doesn't matter, teehee"? Bullshit.
Again, if you don't like this particular RP... *gestures to the entire rest of the website*
You're not crusading for inherent moral value or setting right some horrendous crime, you're just giving a guy whose stuff you don't like free topic bumps.
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