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Post by Deleted on Jan 4, 2016 17:08:04 GMT -8
The vast lands of the stone plains are flooded with small plantlife and domestic animals. Hundreds of miles of just flatland, given the exception to a handful of small sections of forests. Common beasts seen around these parts are Mongthol, Deer, Bear, and rarely a wild Troll. But randomly strewn about these plains are massive holes, traveling to unknown depts, but with diameters up to a good 23 yards in width. These grounds are common for many people to hunt, as it is unclaimed territory. However, there are hidden reasons to why that's so.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 15, 2016 18:57:57 GMT -8
As many of a creature hunt for food, Brock was hunting for ores and special stones. He was notorious for going into unknown lands to find whatever he needed for his Forge. Many say that Brock can smell and feel the ores and stones in the ground. Whatever his secret was, the man never would tell, as he barely spoke to begin with.
Brock moved with exceptional speeds across the grounds. He'd go back and forth, in circles, and even zig zag. He wore no shirt and a pair of short, skin tight, leather shorts that tied together up the sides. On his right side, he carried a very unique dagger that has runes that almost glowed. His long ponytail seemed to stay in the air due to the speed Brock was moving.
"I know you're here somewhere!" Brock whispered to himself while looking for whatever he was looking for on the ground.
And then it hit him, he had seen a quest on the walls back home and he wondered if he was in the right area. He thought he was, so he decided to start searching for something else. He was hunting for what the Orc said went missing. Brock had the talents, so why not?
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2016 19:09:38 GMT -8
As the traveler continued upon his path, he would eventually find a tree. However, what appeared to be a strange grey dust around it, as well as cracked rocks, proved quite unnatural, adding to the messy goop nearby it. A good ten paces away, the Half-Elf would soon be capable of viewing something most unfortunate, as well as un-expected.
Mongthol, a good eight of them, huddled under a small tree. This wouldn't be strange, if they weren't facing away from it surrounded by a massive crater ringing the tree. The pit wasn't that deep, but deep enough for the mongthol to not climb back up, or stagger back down after stumbling their way up halfway.
Tens of noises were heard in a fair variety, snorting to screeching, all quite the unpleasant to hear. Every now and then, movement could be heard, causing the handful of livestock to scurry around and panic, senseless as their options were empty at hand.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 15, 2016 19:25:25 GMT -8
Brock looked at the tree and sniffed the air. He was quickly alerted of the creatures and their predicament. He'd have to find stones big enough for the creatures to step on like stairs to make their escape. He figured this would be simple to do, but the mystery of this tree and the goop kept him on alert.
Brock looked around for the easiest large stones to gather. The land was covered in large flat stones, so Brock would begin lifting these large stones and building a bridge. He had to be precise, since was having to piece this bridge together like a puzzle to ensure the creatures didn't fall. To add to it, with the sounds behind him, he knew he had to hurry.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2016 19:30:24 GMT -8
Suddenly, as he would walk in the opposite direction to grab more stones, the pigs began to squeal, then, the bridge he began to form crumbled and fell. Something had moved it like nothing from the bottom. But with all of those rocks? As heavy as they were? Then it came from the bit. Carrying a mongthol within its mouth, the massive monster was easily seen climbing effortlessly out of the pit it had made. Its stomach would've seemed a problem for climbing, one would thing, completely bloated with... was it rocks? It seemed to be, and the noises of them clattering within its stomach was convincing as well. A snarl, and a snap, then the mongthol within its mouth exploded, blood spewing everywhere. The beastly creature soon lifted its head, first facing away from the warrior. Turning to its left, then to its right, it spotted the man. With a mighty snarl, it turned around and roared at the man, soon gurgling and coughing out pebbles, shooting in random directions, a snake-like tongue slithering out of its mouth as it wiped off of the blood clean from its mouth, and began to march forward, towards the surprised warrior.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 15, 2016 19:44:47 GMT -8
"Damn... I thought this was going to be easy." Brock spoke to himself before sighing.
He watched as the animal was eaten by the rock dragon creature. This was definitely not what he was expecting. In any case, he still might as well try and save what he could of the farm animals. Although Brock wasn't heavily armored and didn't carry big weapons didn't mean much.
Brock would hurl the large three foot stone at the beast as he popped looked his way. Brock's throw was met with the rock breathe. The two baseball sized rock hit Brock. Each hit made him take a step back, but when the rock fell, there wasn't even a red mark. Brock felt the pain, but his body didn't show it.
"You'll make some nice armor, buddy. You must have been what my senses were pulling me to." Brock spoke to the monster.
With that, Brock put his right hand on the handle of his knife. The runes on the knife began to glow and the rune markings around his left eye began to to give a subtle glow. Brock would slide his right leg back a foot, placing his right hip away from the creature. His left leg came to a slight bend, but nothing drastic. Brock would then lift his left hand up towards the creature, turning his Writer's Palm towards it.
"If you can talk, you better start. I gotta get those things back to some guy and find some new stuff to make armor out of." Brock spoke to the monster, hoping that by some chance he could take the Orc pigs back and go merrily about his way; all of which he found very unlikely.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2016 19:49:58 GMT -8
The creature snarled and screached lightly at the elf. It continued to slither at him, as if in a salamander-like formation. Eventually, however, his stomach seemed to decrease in size, and more lumps were seen protruding from its skin. It was growing from the substance? That couldn't be right, it was nearly impossible! The creature, looking at the man's strange stance. Obviously, by its reaction of continuing to charge forward, it had a low intelligence.
However, its combat method was quite the opposite of unintelligent. From there, its head twisted a perfect 90 degrees, mouth opening wide to show all forms and sets of teeth, rows of fangs paired with that of molers. With this sudden twist, its gaping jaws leapt forward towards the male, a hiss gassing out with the monster's neck lunging out towards the warrior.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 16, 2016 19:20:53 GMT -8
Brock watched as the beast lunged for him. He was in such an unexpected situation, a situation he'd never been in before. He continued to guess at what the beast was, figuring an old kings pet of some kind or something that was protecting something.
No matter what it was, he had to stop it or get away with the pigs. As the beast lunged for Brock with it's maw, Brock jumped to his right and rolled a bit before kicking off the ground to pop back up in his stance. He was trying to avoid the attack and get the beast away from the remaining Mongthol.
Hoping the beast's head followed him, when Brock popped back up, he lunged toward the beasts neck right behind it's jaw. With his shoulder aimed forward to slam into the beast, the attack was simply to see what his response was. Brock wouldn't aim for a direct attack until he knew exactly how this beast moved.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 17, 2016 1:56:49 GMT -8
With the contact Brock made, he would feel a sharp pain within his shoulder. The dragon's hide was literally stone! But yet, it seemed even more strange than this, that there was more too it. The beast snarled, leaping against him, hurling the male away from him as he was right next to the creature.
From there, the monster dug its head into the ground, curling up into a ball. The spikes following down its back and spine proved quite useful, as treads to a wheel as the creature began to tumble faster and faster towards the elf.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2016 10:50:43 GMT -8
----------------------------------------Aithen enters the Stone Plains-----------------------
Sprinting endlessly. Stamina filled, Aithen continued along his path. The tribe wasn't too far away from here, he only had a few minutes before reachin- A dragon.
An enormous beast, whatever it was. It was seen hurling rocks and charging itself towards some elven being, that poor soul. Whatever was going on, Aithen had to be a part of. This creature was too close to his tribe.
From there, his legs dug into the ground, sprinting forth a mighty sprint. Eventually, the beast began to stand up on its hind legs, preparing to strike down on the warrior. That's when Aithen intervened, roaring mightily as he leapt onto the neck area of the beast, sinking his teeth into nothing, claws only grinding on the skin.
But this was enough to confused the beast, roaring as it attempted to turn and swipe whatever was injuring it, making it fall to its side. Its stomach seemed quite soft, compared to the rest of the body. Perhaps the elf could strike there while the tiger attacked the face.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 20, 2016 17:36:24 GMT -8
Brock didn't hesitate to plot out his next strike. At this point, Brock the tiger guy was the lesser of his problems since he seemed to be helping him. When the stone beast fell on his side, Brock leaped forward towards the belly.
Brock pulled his right arm back with his hold on his knife reversed. With the blade facing outwards, when he was close enough, he would strike the beast with a slicing motion. As the blade met the skin, the enchantment he had activated earlier took effect. A bright red energy emitted from it and the blade as so sharp that it cut the air at such a sharp point that it could cut skin before it touched it.
Sparks flew as the blade made contact with the belly. The first slash was the slowest. Once the blade was out of the beast, Brock's arm began moving a lot faster, making three slashes in a second. His intent wast to cut the stomach so bad the beasts gut would fall out.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2016 8:24:20 GMT -8
Aithen soon leaped off of the beast, who soon curled into a ball, roaring loudly as its foot send out and kicked the elf in the chest. Aithen went wide-eyed, noticing the sudden reaction making the elf take off into the air. From there, the Lionkin dug his legs into the side of the beast, kicking off and landed right below the elf, stumbling to the ground as a massive impact embraced his center back. He meowed loudly, surprised by the force. Tiny, yes, but quite heavy in muscle it seems.
He turned around, noticing the spliced open stomach doing nothing more than shriveling up into the beast, rocks pouring out. Before any organs were capable of leaving the body, a sudden flash of pink had coated the open upon the stomach, healing it within a literal flash.
The Lionkin lifted up his blade, snarling at the beast as it slammed its feet around to face them, now visible a tail swishing. Aithen looked to Brock for a moment, nodding towards him, declaring the temporary allegiance to take down this creature. Suddenly, the beast roared mightily, charging forward and leaping into the air to dive downards at them. Aithen leaped to the left, hurling his Kusarigama and watched it enter within the crevice of the beast's mouth, now wide eyes and rowling loudly as he was going for a ride.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 21, 2016 19:26:13 GMT -8
As Brock regained his footing after being kicked, he looked to Aithen and nodded in response. As Aithen made his move, Brock was moving forward to get into the position to make a strike to beasts head from below. With the beast busy with Aithen, Brock would have a split second here and there to make his strike.
When the time came, Brock would take his knife and throw it into the bottom of the beasts mouth and through it's tongue. As the knife made contact, Brock made a leap towards the knife with the center of his palm. His goal was to slam the knife through the beasts brain. The enchanted knife with his abnormal strength.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2016 10:01:28 GMT -8
The dragon screached in a painful reaction, jaws opened as far as they could, tongue slithering out and going limp near the bottom of its jaw. The dagger's tip was piercing the back of its throat, crackling at the roof of it. But a strange pink shatter pattern was seen where it was beginning to pierce. Like some sort of a force field. The dragon tried to pull backwards and escape it, rather than bite of Brock's hand due to animal instinct. But this is where Aithen joined in.
His Kusarigama still was within the pocket of the beast's mouth. From here, he yanked inwards, grunting and breathing heavily as he began to continuously pull in the chain to shorten the distance. He kicked mightily with a mighty roar to increase the momentum, making him spin around once more. The tiger shouted out triumphantly, the dragon's eyes widening in horror and shock as seen flying straight at him was Aithen. At the last second, he whipped his Kusarigama so it flung out of the beasts mouth, and kicking his foot out to land straight upon Brock's fist. With the Lionkin's added weight as well as the ungodly momentum added to his balled hand, the strange, pink barrier shattered, the monster's head exploding.
Or so it would've seemed. What had occurred was the head explosion, yes, but that was only the stone skin removed from the head. Screaming and roaring in immense pain, the wrymling cried, clawing at the ground. Upon its head was only seen the gnashing fangs parted, half a tongue after biting off what was sticking out, and a massive, boulder-sized pink gem. It seemed pure, uneven and rugged, shining out a blinding light which Aithen had to covered his eyes from. The wrymling continued to cry and squirm, until accidentally falling down one of the massive tunnels that seemed to lead to the abyss, roaring in agony all the way down.
Disturbed, Aithen lifted up his sword a few feet away. He looked back to Brock, panting heavily as he began to salivate heavily. "What was that... beast?" He questioned, soon looking back towards the tunnel. "Nevermind that... it's dead now.." He turned towards the ground, looking at the massive half-tongue laying upon the ground. A growl appeared on his face, kicking that down the tunnel as well, looking to Brock. "We should tell Falkreath about this, this thing. It was way too close to the village, and who knows how many more there are." He advised, not knowing that this elf was on a quest for such a reason. Soon, however, Mongthol were seen running and squealing with joy and a hint of worry, sprinting towards the direction of the tribe.
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 22, 2016 18:26:09 GMT -8
It definitely didn't feel good having Aithern crush his hand between the knife and his foot. Not to mention it was a stone beast they cut through. Just because Aithen didn't really do any damage to his hand doesn't mean Brock couldn't feel it. Through the pain, he knew it was a blessing in disguise.
The added force of Aithen's foot did force Brock to let go of the knife, sending the beasts head up and backwards, having been hit in the uppercut motion. Brock took more notice to the giant pink gem. He'd then look to the pigs. Following that, he would see his knife and put it back in it's sheath.
"Thank you! Besides crushing my hand, i'm glad you showed up! I'm Brock, Forge Master from the Black Lion Tribe in The Phoenix State. Something was pulling me this way, some kind of unique mineral. I'm going to take that the giant pink gem there is what I was being pulled to. It will be a great piece for the Forge! The magic that I can enchant weapons with will be great!
First I need to get those Orc pig things. I don't know if you coming into town, but I would suggest coming in with me so they don't think you're chasing them." Brock spoke to Aithen as he made his way to the giant gem and carried it on his back, "I'll cut your half of the gem when we get the pigs back and collect the reward.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2016 18:41:44 GMT -8
Before Aithen could speak, the ground began to rumble a bit, where Aithen leapt forward, rowling a bit as he tackled Brock out of the falling ground. Panting a bit, not entirely recovered from the battle, he turned around, noticing a glowing, pink light, crashing into the walls and slowly disappearing. "Well... On the bright side." He started, turning towards Brock. "We know how far it goes." He grew a mischevious grin, pounding a paw onto the warrior's back as he began to march towards where the mongthol ran. "I'm sure your reward will be exceptional compared to what you've lost, my friend." He started, that term bitter as he nearly spat towards the ground. Friend? That was new.
----------Brock and Aithen exit The Stone Plains--------------
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Post by Brock the Forge Master on Jan 22, 2016 19:08:02 GMT -8
All Brock could do was stand up and look at the Gem falling. He slumped a bit and pouted as it fell into the depths of the tunnel. It was like winning the lottery and then getting robbed before you spent a dollar.
"Yeah, but now I have to go all the way down there to get it and that thing is still down there. I'll have to go home, get armor and a beast to climb the walls, and find it. Damn it!" Brock spoke in a sad tone while looking down the tunnel.
"I hope the reward is good, I wasn't even planning on rescuing the things till I found the flyer out here." He spoke to Aithen as he pulled a piece of folded paper from his short leather shorts and unfolded it, "This guy put out a reward on these things and I just happened to be looking for stuff here."
With that, Brock took off with Aithen and Mongthol.>
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Tinker Fizzbit
Committed
Roleplay posts: 72
Age: 52
Physical Description: Tinker Fizzbit would seem to be a perfectly normal woman in her twenties, with a long, silky brown ponytail and bangs framing her face. That is, she would, were she not approximately three feet tall with slightly pointed ears, and a knack for saying apparently anything that pops into her brain. This pegs her as one of the quirkiest of races: a gnome.
Her voice is high-pitched, yet erudite, speaking to a hidden intelligence beneath all the apparent craziness. She has a pleasant figure and a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a seemingly constant smattering of soot or other assorted explosion biproducts. Despite this, she is miraculously unscarred, somehow escaping all of her failed experiments with nothing but singed eyebrows and a fresh film of soot.
Clothes and Equipment: ============
Tinker generally wears a practical ensemble of baggy clothing made of durable and fireproofed cloth, covered by a protective leather vest with many inner pockets and a pair of knee-length leather boots. About her hip she wears an engineer's toolbelt, with a quiver and various tinkering tools on her left side, and a myriad of multicoloured flasks of various elixirs on her right, most of them highly volatile. When she's experimenting, she wears a set of specialised goggles. They tend to stay atop her forehead when she isn't.
Her weapon of choice is a heavily customised repeating crossbow with various modifications. The crossbow is fed by a circular drum of bolts above a mechanism which automatically launches a bolt and primes another with every pull of the trigger. It also has a very well-calibrated sight, and two valves that spray the bolts with various concoctions with the press of a button. All in all, it is a very advanced weapon.
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 1:50:52 GMT -8
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Post by Tinker Fizzbit on Feb 21, 2016 6:38:39 GMT -8
It's a chilly, yet fairly pleasant day in the Stone Plains. A thick morning fog drifts lazily upon the ground, and the sun sits high in the blue sky, warming one's flesh to make up for the chilly breeze. Birds fly overhead, singing to one another musically. All in all, it's a beautiful day.
However, suddenly the peace is interrupted by a roar and a large explosion, the flash of light from said explosion travelling far through the fog. The roar sounds like that of a wild troll, though the origin of the explosion can't be discerned without being fairly close to the scene. There, a tiny gnome battles a troll many times its size, firing bolts up at it that lodge in its flesh but only seem to make it more mad. The Gnome's brown ponytail bounces as she dodges back and fourth, avoiding the beast's strikes deftly. She runs between its legs and fires another volley up its back, hoping to pierce its spinal cord, but no luck. Just as she pulls out another explosive elixir, the troll spins about and smacks her with the back of its hand, the elixir flying out of her hand and erupting off to the side, creating a harmless crater in the stone. The beast approaches the Gnome slowly, the Gnome unable to stand due to having lost its breath and been knocked dizzy. It's not looking good for the little one.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 21, 2016 6:51:15 GMT -8
The troll panted heavily, hands swiping over its punctured skin to break off and pull out the small arrowed which punctured it, growling as the beast roared down at the gnome. However, as if suddenly coming into existence, sprinted forward he, the strange one. The troll suddenly snapped its head towards the knight, roaring as it marched a step forward to face the knight that seemed to sprint forward, the pounding footsteps just as heavy as the troll's themselves. With that moment, the knight could be seen, a massive lion upon his shoulder as his sword was tilted behind him now, the blade held the other way as soon the knight tackled the troll silently, sending the troll to the ground. Being launched off of a tackled troll was never fun. Especially for Sentinel Havalon, a whisper of a grunt heard echoing through the metal helm. Staggering to get up, the knight looked to the troll that marched forward, swinging its right arm downwards upon the knight. Where at this point, the shield was raised by the Sentinel, emitting a massive, white shield, bouncing the fist away as the troll roared in confusion. Then, upon this point, the shield would lower, a mighty sword slashing upwards in its right position, slicing against the chest and stomach of the beast. Roaring loudly, hands clenched onto the stomach of the beast, And from there, once more, the knight ducked downwards, grunting louder this time as he lifted up the troll, a mighty strength seen in this act. However, knees shook and breathing grew silent, soon turning the monster as it was slammed onto the ground sideways. From there, his sword returned to his hand in an instant, pinning the monster's left arm with the spikes on his shield, slicing at the raising left arm with his sword as the beast's arm fell, giving up in the fight. However, with one last roar the troll stared up to Havalon's Visage with a hateful stare, and from there the sword was impaled in the center chest of the beast. It gasped, groaning as its head soon fell to the ground mightily, sighing out a strange, white smoke that seemed to escape quickly into the depths of the holes nearby. The body formed to stone, and from there, the sword was yanked out before the wound would become such as well. Panting heavily, the Sentinel looked to the gnome, heavy breathing heard as he stared with calmness, though it couldn't be seen. Swirling his blade in hand, the knight looked to the gnome's person, a bit miffed by its apparel. "I've known gnomes to be smaller." He stated, gently, a small laugh ensuing the minor compliment.
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Tinker Fizzbit
Committed
Roleplay posts: 72
Age: 52
Physical Description: Tinker Fizzbit would seem to be a perfectly normal woman in her twenties, with a long, silky brown ponytail and bangs framing her face. That is, she would, were she not approximately three feet tall with slightly pointed ears, and a knack for saying apparently anything that pops into her brain. This pegs her as one of the quirkiest of races: a gnome.
Her voice is high-pitched, yet erudite, speaking to a hidden intelligence beneath all the apparent craziness. She has a pleasant figure and a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a seemingly constant smattering of soot or other assorted explosion biproducts. Despite this, she is miraculously unscarred, somehow escaping all of her failed experiments with nothing but singed eyebrows and a fresh film of soot.
Clothes and Equipment: ============
Tinker generally wears a practical ensemble of baggy clothing made of durable and fireproofed cloth, covered by a protective leather vest with many inner pockets and a pair of knee-length leather boots. About her hip she wears an engineer's toolbelt, with a quiver and various tinkering tools on her left side, and a myriad of multicoloured flasks of various elixirs on her right, most of them highly volatile. When she's experimenting, she wears a set of specialised goggles. They tend to stay atop her forehead when she isn't.
Her weapon of choice is a heavily customised repeating crossbow with various modifications. The crossbow is fed by a circular drum of bolts above a mechanism which automatically launches a bolt and primes another with every pull of the trigger. It also has a very well-calibrated sight, and two valves that spray the bolts with various concoctions with the press of a button. All in all, it is a very advanced weapon.
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 1:50:52 GMT -8
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Post by Tinker Fizzbit on Feb 21, 2016 8:29:43 GMT -8
Tinker can do little but sit back and watch the spectacle as she reloads her crossbow just in case the knight loses. However, that is proven to be a misplaced concern as the troll breathes its last.
"Small in stature, yes, but never lacking in spirit or mind!" replies Tinker as the knight speaks, remembering then that she should probably stand up. And so she does, as gracefully as she can, and brushes herself off before approaching her saviour with an outstretched hand, scurrying over in those tiny legs of hers as fast as she can. "I'm Tinker Fizzbit, Doctor of Alchemy, Engineering, and Physics. What might I call my knight in shining armour?"
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