Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2016 16:44:22 GMT -8
Zeel'Nok appreciated the chance to verbally jab at Thrashnald once more. "The Dark One is like a mole: Cowardly and Rushing. He'll burrow himself as deep into this cave as possible. However, it's whoever are his minions we should worry abou-"At that moment she had to duck, a pickaxe suddenly smashing into the wall next to her, literally exploding the bits of stone. She shouldered into the male's chest, suddenly horrified by the face of the miner. Bloody, sweaty, blistered. "How long...?" She questioned aloud, suddenly noticing the others following them. Her hands slowly glowed green, soon lifting them as the small tunnel closed up on them. "Come on, we should be able to continue for a while." A smash was heard, but bluntly, far within the tunnel. "We have time... come on, let's go!"After a good few minutes of travelling through the tunnels, she'd find the room once more. Tunnels everywhere, but all were sealed off. It appeared actually now, four tunnels were left. All bearing the symbol of the necromancer once more. "Hah! He claims this symbol as if it should bear pride!" She soon lifted a glowing right hand, slamming the palm into the floor, the symbols replaced with a green hex, rather than the purple one.  This appeared to be a mistake, as a monstrous bear crawled out of the second tunnel to the left. As it crawled forward, the room grew, and the cave chuckled loudly, shaking as the beast marched forward, tongues hanging out of the two heads.  The massive beast marched forward, grunting and slobbering endless blood on to the floor, its spine now ground down so it wouldn't scrape among the roof of the cave, every step heard and felt as it stared at the group. "It is time for my own entertainment. I thank you, Zeel'Nok, for leading them to my throne with your ignorance. Now, fortunately, your little fun shall end!!! Feel my vengeance in every bite!!!!"With that, the bear heads roared loudly, first taking charge at Zeel'Nok, who was frozen in fear, unknowing of what to do with such a mighty creature. Only a matter of time before the worst would occur. |
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Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher
Dedicated
He is going to punch you in every orifice you own.
Roleplay posts: 178 
Age: 52?
Physical Description: "Roarin" Redding Fletcher is 5'9 of pure muscle, pure hard drinking, hard fighting, hard living muscle. He used to have a beard he burned it off in a tavern brawl he grew his white hair out to compensate. He is almost as wide as he is tall and many people have confused him for a dwarf. Many people have also been beaten half to death for suggesting it. He has an eye patch though there does still seem to be an eye underneath it.
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Clothes and Equipment: A pair of iron gauntlets adorned with spikes. Two wine skins one filled with ale, the other filled with something that will "Make you roar." A surprising amount of gold from questionable sources.
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Registered: Nov 13, 2015 19:19:21 GMT -8
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Post by Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher on Feb 10, 2016 17:10:27 GMT -8
When it become apparent things are going to go tits up, Roarin grimaces. Slinging the wine skin off his back, he takes a pull of Demons Roar. Pain hot and vivid spreads through out his body.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
The roar that Roarin was known for comes crashing from his lips. His muscles bulge obscenely, and his skin turns a darker shade, almost black. He lunges forward slamming into the bear. His strength, speed, durability, and healing rate have all been increased. Of course it was all temporary and when it ran out he would be crippled for a few hours, or days.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2016 17:21:27 GMT -8
The bear was suddenly removed from Zeel'Nok's track, which left her to stand there, nearly wetting herself as the bear was smashed int othe wall, bones snapping as the chest vibrated with a hissing roar. The bear's second head dug its teeth into the left neck muscle of Roarin's impervious hide, barely leaving teeth marks. The bear soon kicked with its hind leg, sending the male off of him and smacking him into the opposite wall of the room. The beast soon sprinted forward, curling into a ball before emitting a blinding speek, its back crashing into Roarin's torso as the bear sandwiched him between the wall.
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Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher
Dedicated
He is going to punch you in every orifice you own.
Roleplay posts: 178
Age: 52?
Physical Description: "Roarin" Redding Fletcher is 5'9 of pure muscle, pure hard drinking, hard fighting, hard living muscle. He used to have a beard he burned it off in a tavern brawl he grew his white hair out to compensate. He is almost as wide as he is tall and many people have confused him for a dwarf. Many people have also been beaten half to death for suggesting it. He has an eye patch though there does still seem to be an eye underneath it.
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Clothes and Equipment: A pair of iron gauntlets adorned with spikes. Two wine skins one filled with ale, the other filled with something that will "Make you roar." A surprising amount of gold from questionable sources.
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Registered: Nov 13, 2015 19:19:21 GMT -8
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Post by Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher on Feb 10, 2016 17:31:37 GMT -8
Roarin takes the bears balls blow directly to the chest, and grunts in pain. He feels ribs snap and then immediately knit back into place. He wraps both arms around the bear ball, and begins to squeeze.'
"IMMA KILL YA WIT' A GOD DAMNED BEAR HUG!"
He roars this at the bear, as he squeezes even harder.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2016 17:35:26 GMT -8
The screeching made many of the people there sink to their knees, even Zeel'Nok snapped from her state of mind. The bear's back snapped in half, where the body fell backwards, then crawling under its own legs, ripping itself apart and grasping Mayor around his waist with one paw, hurling him against the next wall. With that time, the ligaments and bones could be seen pulling the bear together within a heartbeat, two heads snarling at Mayor as the beast sprinted forward at him once more, a puddle of blood where the scene took place.
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Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher
Dedicated
He is going to punch you in every orifice you own.
Roleplay posts: 178
Age: 52?
Physical Description: "Roarin" Redding Fletcher is 5'9 of pure muscle, pure hard drinking, hard fighting, hard living muscle. He used to have a beard he burned it off in a tavern brawl he grew his white hair out to compensate. He is almost as wide as he is tall and many people have confused him for a dwarf. Many people have also been beaten half to death for suggesting it. He has an eye patch though there does still seem to be an eye underneath it.
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Clothes and Equipment: A pair of iron gauntlets adorned with spikes. Two wine skins one filled with ale, the other filled with something that will "Make you roar." A surprising amount of gold from questionable sources.
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Registered: Nov 13, 2015 19:19:21 GMT -8
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Post by Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher on Feb 10, 2016 18:09:04 GMT -8
Roarin slams into the wall wrong, and his left arm snaps. He can already feel it healing though, but he can also feel the Demon's Roar wearing off. Pushing off the wall, Roarin lunges forward bringing his fist down toward the top of one of the bears heads.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2016 2:42:58 GMT -8
With that mighty, heroic strike Roarin would've emitted to the bear, the cap of the beast's skull would've shattered, causing a terrible reaction. An echoing, hauntful roar was emitted from the bear, swiping Roarin away from itself, but not far. It slammed its own body against the walls, and then upon the ground, trying to have a more massive pain to focus on, but was obviously failing. The roar was now constant, repetitive, as the beast's natural instinct. Then, it would've been visible how every smash made the walls shake and the ceiling crumble slightly. If this was kept up, the cave could collapse there.
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Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher
Dedicated
He is going to punch you in every orifice you own.
Roleplay posts: 178
Age: 52?
Physical Description: "Roarin" Redding Fletcher is 5'9 of pure muscle, pure hard drinking, hard fighting, hard living muscle. He used to have a beard he burned it off in a tavern brawl he grew his white hair out to compensate. He is almost as wide as he is tall and many people have confused him for a dwarf. Many people have also been beaten half to death for suggesting it. He has an eye patch though there does still seem to be an eye underneath it.
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Clothes and Equipment: A pair of iron gauntlets adorned with spikes. Two wine skins one filled with ale, the other filled with something that will "Make you roar." A surprising amount of gold from questionable sources.
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Registered: Nov 13, 2015 19:19:21 GMT -8
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Post by Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher on Feb 11, 2016 7:12:32 GMT -8
Roarin wasn't done just yet. He leaps across the room, landing on the bears back.
"ONE HEAD LEFT!"
Roarin uses one hand to grab the top half of its jaw, and grabs the bottom jaw with his other hand. He then begins to pull the jaws apart, using every ounce of his decreasing strength. He was going to tear this bears head apart.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2016 19:10:09 GMT -8
And so it did come apart, the beast slamming around still, making the cave begin to shake. But as the rocks cracked apart and fell downwards, Zeel'Nok threw her arms upwards, the stones now levitating and slowly returning to their places. The bear grew limp, spazzing and shaking about every now and then in the victor's arms, as if a natural reflex to fight against in the battle still. But eventually the twitching stopped, and the beast could be considered dead.
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Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher
Dedicated
He is going to punch you in every orifice you own.
Roleplay posts: 178
Age: 52?
Physical Description: "Roarin" Redding Fletcher is 5'9 of pure muscle, pure hard drinking, hard fighting, hard living muscle. He used to have a beard he burned it off in a tavern brawl he grew his white hair out to compensate. He is almost as wide as he is tall and many people have confused him for a dwarf. Many people have also been beaten half to death for suggesting it. He has an eye patch though there does still seem to be an eye underneath it.
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Clothes and Equipment: A pair of iron gauntlets adorned with spikes. Two wine skins one filled with ale, the other filled with something that will "Make you roar." A surprising amount of gold from questionable sources.
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Registered: Nov 13, 2015 19:19:21 GMT -8
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Post by Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher on Feb 11, 2016 19:24:19 GMT -8
Roarin lays panting on his kill. The Demons Roar is starting to where off, and the muscle twitches are starting. Pretty soon he will be in too much pain to move. Rolling off the bear, he shouts out grunting in pain.
"Rictofen, Roxy, get yer butts over here. I am fekking done. I am going ta give ye both something ta help ya with the rest."
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816 
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Feb 11, 2016 22:59:00 GMT -8
Roxanne shuffles over. Even though she hates her father, seeing him singlehandedly kill a bear is impressive. She looks down at him as he lies, twitching, on the ground.
"So this is what you did to yourself, huh? Burned out your muscles? Was it worth it, to beat up the bear all by yourself?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2016 3:24:15 GMT -8
Sprinting forward, nearly exploding past Roxanne's arm, Rictofen launched himself at the bear, throwing it, literally throwing it, away from the beastly figure. "BY THIS BONES!!!!" He exclaimed, smiling unflinchingly and with swollen eyes at his father. "THAT WAS AMAZING!" He exclaimed, lifting him up in his arms, grunting a bit. "Was it worth it just standing by doing nothing?" The Fletcher's son jabbed at Roxanne, narrowing his eyes at her as he looked back to his father. "Umm... how do you want me to carry you..?" He questioned, holding him at the moment over his shoulder like a sac.
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Cyronin the Blue
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: 28
Physical Description: Trying.
Clothes and Equipment: https://imgur.com/a/sIpRe
Player's online availability : Often?
Registered: Nov 9, 2015 2:04:16 GMT -8
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Post by Cyronin the Blue on Feb 12, 2016 15:44:25 GMT -8
Cyronin sheathed his blade abruptly after watching Roarin' take down the bear single-handedly, grunting in admiration.
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Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher
Dedicated
He is going to punch you in every orifice you own.
Roleplay posts: 178
Age: 52?
Physical Description: "Roarin" Redding Fletcher is 5'9 of pure muscle, pure hard drinking, hard fighting, hard living muscle. He used to have a beard he burned it off in a tavern brawl he grew his white hair out to compensate. He is almost as wide as he is tall and many people have confused him for a dwarf. Many people have also been beaten half to death for suggesting it. He has an eye patch though there does still seem to be an eye underneath it.
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Clothes and Equipment: A pair of iron gauntlets adorned with spikes. Two wine skins one filled with ale, the other filled with something that will "Make you roar." A surprising amount of gold from questionable sources.
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Registered: Nov 13, 2015 19:19:21 GMT -8
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Post by Uncle Redding Roarin Fletcher on Feb 12, 2016 16:17:27 GMT -8
When Rictofen tried to pick him up Roarin waved him off.
"Dun be picking me up, I'm going ta need a few minutes, or hours ta recover. Iffin ye want ta help me, listen closely."
With a shaking hand Roarin reaches into on his pockets. He produces two phials, one glows white the other red.
"This is as far as I go today, and this is all I can give ye. The white one is Angels Breath, tha strongest healing potion I have. Thar's enough fer two doses. Should keep ye alive, so long as ye can swallow it, na matter what happens. Tha red one's Mortal's Coil. Poison, strongest I can brew, put some on yer weapon and scratch will be deadly."
Roarin pulls out a flask and takes a long pull.
"Alcohol helps wit da pain, which is permanent. Iffin yer wondering why I dun share da Demon's Roar, won't have me kids or anyone else go through this. Stay safe ye two. I may not be a good father, but da dun mean I want ta out live me kids."
Roarin takes another shot, and groans.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Feb 14, 2016 12:41:53 GMT -8
Roxanne picks up the white vial. She doesn't need poison. A healing potion, however, might be useful.
"...Thanks."
She pockets the vial carefully and kicks the bear carcass.
"So you're just going to sit here with the bear? Maybe you should head back."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 16, 2016 11:04:03 GMT -8
Zeel'Nok coughed, looking down to Mayor with appreciation. "Thank you..." She spoke up, looking to Roxanne afterwards. "Yes, I fear there are some here that should head back. Whoever wishes to delve deeper into the cave, please, step forward." She looked with hesitation to the group, wincing as she heard Rictofen step forward. She sighed, nodding to Roxanne, thinking them a good pair for the travel. "Anyone else?" She questioned, staring to the others.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2016 14:14:18 GMT -8
--------------------------------- As the quest continues the next five hours, only Roxanne and Rictofen Fletcher braved the cave, whereas Zeel'Nok remained a guide, until the last moments where they were separated, the others had left for other reasons-------- Slamming onto the closed stone, Rictofen panicked slightly, turning back around, he looked to Roxanne. "When we kill him, his spells will end, that makes as much sense as anything would." He concluded, hoping that the determination placed in his theory would effect its correctness. Marching forward, he ground his knuckle dusters against the stone wall as he marched into a strange, strange room.  "Alright, let's kill this-" "Did Thorok send you?" |
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2016 14:23:23 GMT -8
 Slumping down each step with complete relaxation, the strange, intimidating Orc looked to them, as if he was expecting them and was disappointed with the fact no gifts were brought. He snorted, flexing his nose as he looked to the children, the humming, glowing blade in his hand, limp, as if ready to drop it. Raising up his arms in confusion, Thrashnald looked to the two Fletchers. "I have no idea why you've come here, Rictofen. I left your village as your Chieftan asked, is that not enough?" Rictofen, frozen in fear and eyes widened and tensed, remained silent, quivering and nearly fainting as he struggled to breathe. Huffing, his attention soon gazed back to Roxanne, eyeing her up and down. "You're a full-blood, to my surprise you're acting better than that mutt." He pointed to Rictofen with his sword, turning back around as he set his blade upon the rail of the stone temple-like structure, obviously at ease with them. He appeared to be levitating a book, fingers flicking across the air as the pages changed. "Hmm, no.. this won't do." He stopped for a moment, raising his head and looking over his shoulder to face her. "A- What sort of fire can grow upon skin, might I ask?" He questioned, waiting for an answer with raised eyebrows in patience. However, the many scars and chunks of meat missing were viewed upon his body, the right elbow's bone literally showing, growing outwards to replace where the skin once was. Upon his back his skin revealed many stitches and cuts and symbols made from those cuts, obviously a deliberate, strange ritual he had. |
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Feb 23, 2016 14:31:50 GMT -8
Roxanne sheaths her sword, looking up at Thrashnald curiously.
"Is that how we're going to do it? Questions?"
She shrugs. She doesn't know very much about magic.
"I don't know. Any fire, I suppose. Especially if you cover your skin in lamp oil."
Looking around the room curiously, she taps her foot impatiently on the ground.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 22, 2024 23:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 23, 2016 14:38:10 GMT -8
Confused and baffled, Rictofen simply was a shaking statue, tears and drool building up in corners of his face as he continued to take up all of the Necromancer being there.
"Hmm, oily skin with fire- Ah! Basilisk breath, that would cover both of those requirements!" He concluded, a hand lifted above the book, literally making a strong inhaling sound as what appeared to be the words sucked from the writing into his palm, glowing as it soon faded. With that, the Necromancer turned around, lighting the yellow fire upon his bicep, watching it grow, widened eyes and a toothy (mostly fangs) grin. "Now that is something! Oh!" He chuckled calmly, a nice, light-hearted chuckle as he patted it out eventually, smoldering ash from his skin falling to the ground.
"So, I expect you were sent to kill me?" He questioned, grasping onto his sword, turning back around to them. "You shall do no such thing!!!!" He roared out, getting into some dramatic battle stance, pausing for a few seconds before chuckling transformed to a loud laugh, tossing his blade so it stabbed into the ground, like a hot knife through warm butter, sticking a third of the blade into the ground as he turned around once more.
"Your tribe has no big deal with my plans, so you are fine to leave." With that, he continued to stare into the book, holding it with the once page-flipping hand open as the other hand raised into the sky, snapping fingers as the exit opened up once more. The towering figure seemed to pay little attention to the two of them, but Rictofen seemed afraid of something, like the Necromancer would do more.
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