Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 6:25:38 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2016 19:31:29 GMT -8
He said nothing, inwardly agreeing with her caution. She'd be stupid to leap at the chance without actually thinking over the pros and cons of a decision... and the blacksmith did not strike him as stupid. Tired, maybe. Determined, yes. But not stupid.
He was patient as he continued to wait for her, watching the way she moved, noticing the way her clothes wrapped around her but not letting his eyes linger. She was a pretty woman, but she was an excellent blacksmith and he didn't want to insult her or otherwise jeopardize his chance here.
He didn't offer to help her, either. She seemed to know what she was doing, and her cleaning seemed to be almost a ritual for her. The Captain could tell that she was thinking, and as he truly wasn't there to get in her way, he kept himself quietly composed where he had originally sat.
When it seemed as if she was finished for the day, he eased off the stool with a grace of a man borne to war, double swords at his hip. He walked toward the door with her. "I leave at dawn two days hence," he told her, pleased with her decision. "Hopefully that will be enough time to get your affairs in order before we journey. My squire will be with us. How many belongings do you have?" he asked her, wondering if he should rent a cart.
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10 
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 12, 2016 20:37:45 GMT -8
At the edge of the village, a child becomes visible as he crests a nearby hill. He is of moderate height, walking at a brisk pace. His stride is almost comical, the stilted step of a young boy miming a soldier's march. He looks to be around fourteen, and is clad in a beautiful tunic of pristine white cloth. He wears nothing else, not even a scabbard for the long sword he carries. The sword is of exquisite craftsmanship, beautiful in how it glitters in the light, beautiful in how impossibly sharp it appears. Such a thing couldn't possibly be used a weapon. It would shatter almost immediately. His eyes are sapphires, glinting from a face that speaks of childish mirth. His hair is blonde, a beautiful gold that glimmers in the mid-day sun. And, as he grows closer still, the faint sound of his singing slowly becomes audible. A cheerful refrain, the kind of song that makes you take notice of the sun, appreciate the flowers, perhaps take a moment to be thankful for the paradise in which you live. Indeed, were it not for the incomprehensible language he is singing in, you might notice that it is about these very things that he sings.
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Lilla Fabre
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: 19
Physical Description: 5'2" lithe raven haired woman, with a strong physique from working in her forge. Her eyes are hazel.
Clothes and Equipment: She is often seen wearing simple common women's clothes with boots, but often wears a thick leather apron.
She has a roll of metal working tools and a large sledge hammer.
Player's online availability : Evenings
Registered: Nov 18, 2016 21:41:37 GMT -8
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Post by Lilla Fabre on Dec 13, 2016 9:33:08 GMT -8
As Lilla closed up the forge and the shop, it was clear that she had a method and process on how she did things. Every item had it's spot and place. Everything was cooled off, empty, and ready for the next day. Thinking about the day and how it had so much going on in it. As well as a better opportunity, a tough opportunity, to apply her trade.
And then she noticed something... was... was Erhard looking at her? Well, yes, he was watching her... there wasn't much to see here, he had already been in the smithy for several hours. But there was a couple times where Lilla could almost feel his gaze tracing over her. But each time she glanced, he was just casually looking about the shop. With a small smile on her lips, her hips started to sway a little as she busied herself about her tasks.
As they were leaving the shop and she took his offer, he told her she had a couple days before he would leave. Seeming concerned that she wouldn't have enough time to get things in order and ready to leave. Lilla gave a sheepish smile. "Actually, I could leave within a couple hours. I don't have much. My tools, a couple of dresses, and my purse. I don't have many friends in town and would just have to make sure to settle things with Dalca." she made a face of disdain, she was sure that wouldn't go well.
She realized she was about to go in another direction to get back to the little room Dalca was letting her live in. "So, I'll see you soon?" she asked, pausing in the cool moonlit evening, chin lifted a little as she waited for his answer.
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 19, 2016 15:40:27 GMT -8
The child skips unimpeded into the village, singing his merry song. Indeed, the song seems almost infectious, bringing smiles to the faces of all who hear it. Then, still laughing and giggling, the child drives his long, wickedly sharp sword into the nearest man. It sinks effortlessly up to the hilt into his gut. The child cheerfully sings as he drags the sword out, and begins moving toward his next target, this time a young girl of six standing petrified a few feet away.
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 25, 2016 10:52:20 GMT -8
Frîmark belonging to the Rexus family was well known to be the home-town of the Emperor. As one could imagine the man had quite a care for it and made sure that it was the first among equals on the matter of troops marching through it. It meant that anyone trying to do something nefarious would have few to no chances of just getting away with it. On this day Generalissimo Albrecht von Korden was marching his state troops through the men having moments ago been relieved. Like all other leaders the noble fancied himself to be a man of the people and saw to necessary to go around town. The man was quite rotund being blessed by pork and beer to have a rather massive gut - however by the Clergy he was blessed to be quite a lot more combat ready than he looked. He gasped with a jiggle of the triple chin upon seeing a person stabbed down the street. Who the hell did this person think they were? They were lucky a Witch Hunter or some of the nastier folks were not about. Instead the state troopers were present. Oh well, it didn't seem to be too muc trouble. Not when clad from head to toe in hagbane silver armour and weapons of the sort. His horse galloped extraordinarily fast despite being a big one encumbered by three-piece barding and when the man got close he went for an underhand axe swing with his right hand accompanied by a shield bash from the left upon the figure; both were wide sweeping movements leaving little space for evasion. His honour guard was not far behind with their own axes raised high to assail the strange arrival from their mounts.
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 25, 2016 21:23:09 GMT -8
He arrives too late to save the child, who collapses in a rapidly spreading pool of her own blood. He turns to see the guard charging at him, and smiles. A genuine, joyous smile. The moment following is one that might haunt the survivors for years to come. The smiling, angelic child calmly steps into the axe stroke. The shield bash could never hit him, being on the left side of the horse. He makes no attempt to escape his own death. Rather, where any sane man would attempt to block or dodge, he attacks. There can be no dodging for either party, not when both have so committed. The axe stroke is solid and immediately lethal, catching the boy in the lower chest and cleaving up. Bones snap and lungs deflate. blood pouring out of the gaping wound. However, the return blow is equally ugly. The sword is sharp. Too sharp. It bites into the armor near the neck, puncturing it and sinking in fully four inches. Then, it shatters explosively, shards of razor sharp steel flying in all directions. Several even strike its former wielder, adding new wounds to his ruined body. Still smiling serenely, the boy collapses to the ground, his singing gurgling to silence.
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 26, 2016 7:43:45 GMT -8
As remarked earlier Albrecht was wearing full hagbane silver armour, not to speak of it being designed in Gothic Plate; the area where his neck should have been exposed was covered by a neck guard, helmet, chainmail and boiled leather. Even if it did go that far four inches would barely make a scratch upon the Generalissimo's neck, and the blessings of Angels and Saints let him shrug off mere shrapnel and shards. Gott uber alles. Of course the men accompanying him would be hit by the shrapnel in a nasty way for they all had their visors up so their leader could identify them - a man with armour so round needed no identification. Promptly the men who were not busy picking bots of metal from their faces would dismount and investigate the body, one running off for a Cleric to also see what the hell it was and to hopefully perform a miracle on the young lassie.
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 26, 2016 10:40:57 GMT -8
The armor had indeed saved the soldier. The sword had made an ugly gash in plate, almost puncturing through fully, but had clearly stopped just short of the skin. A long shard protrudes from the hole. Oddly, the shard is cold to the touch, and begins to melt almost immediately after shattering. The metal takes on a silvery hue and evaporates, leaving little evidence that the weapon existed in the first place. The child's body, on the other hand, has no such strange properties. To any observer, it is simply an corpse. Following this moment, there would be almost two hours. At the end of this period, the sound would carry faintly over the hill. Unearthly singing. But where before, there had been one voice. This time, there is a chorus.
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 26, 2016 17:49:15 GMT -8
The Generallissimo was not pleased with what was going on. Two people had already died while he was about, and in the home of the Emperor no less. He just hoped the man would be understanding and would focus on the heretical aspect rather than Albrecht's fault here. It seemed to get worse with the strange singing getting louder; odd, considering that the last elves and fae in the region were exterminated nearly a century ago. The soldiers were ordered all to patrol rather than slack, halberds at the ready along with their plate armour's visors lowered. The civilians were also notified, the men folk picking up their crossbows and kriegsmessers. The Clergy was ready to banish whatever dark things would come, and they also sent chapels nearby a message to be on alert. The corpse would also be handled by Clerics to be burned in a furnace aided by the papers of the Clerics and what little remained would be buried down a deep hole and sealed.
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 26, 2016 20:54:08 GMT -8
By now, the sun has set fully. However, there is an eerie glow on the hill. A warm, pure light shining down. Then, the first pair appear at the top of the hill. Both share the sapphire eyes and blonde hair of the first child. Their robes, just as beautiful. Their swords just as sharp. They march in the midday sun, which pours down upon them from the evening sky. As they step forward, the next pair mounts the crest behind them. It becomes clear that this is a column, formally assembled. Side by side, the soldiers cross the hill. The line shows no sign of ending. As they march, they sing. However, the language has changed. Some of it is still in that strange, unidentifiable tongue, but here and there new words have woven themselves into the song, words in the language of Vessia. "Sun", "Joy", and "Death".
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 27, 2016 8:21:43 GMT -8
If there was one thing that proved Albrecht had some sort of shred of competence it was his quick thinking. Four carroballistas would ride near and send volley after volley of heavy bolts into these arrivals. Two mangonels would be trained upon them both throwing their stones and the many men under the Generalissimo would form up; they would place down their pavise shields as makeshift fortifications and raise their halberds obscuring their actual numbers. A section of crank crossbows slicing through any armour would let loose hundreds of bolts aided by four standard ballistae. Finally, six piston flamethrowers would line up and as the arrivals got closer they would release grand waves of alchemical fire. Assembled Clerics would prepare their magical powers.
(10x Charge 1)
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 27, 2016 8:28:06 GMT -8
Each volley easily cuts through the ranks of the soldiers, who collapse into bloody piles. Often they are struck with multiple bolts as they fall. Their formation makes it, at once, impossible to miss hitting someone, and impossible to hit the person you are aiming at. However, the line continues to pour over the hill. The corpses begin to pile, crumpling as rivulets and streams of blood flow down the hill and toward the assembled soldiers.
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 27, 2016 8:39:01 GMT -8
The industrial might of Vessia and it's great infrastructure meant that soldiers had no shortage of ammunition and such; the piston flamethrowers would do their work to melt corpses. The Clerics would keep charging their power, encouraged that men from another towns chapel were coming.
(10x charge 2, 10x charge 1)
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 27, 2016 8:46:09 GMT -8
That's where problems begin to arise. The corpses don't burn. Neither do the soldiers, actually. The flame licks at them, but exhausts itself, finding no fuel. The column continues to march, and the pile of the dead and dying continues to mount. At this point, it is becoming increasingly hard to see the soldiers marching over the hill through the mounting pile. Instead, it is more often that the soldiers, gravely wounded, fall from the pile to land at its base.
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 27, 2016 9:01:50 GMT -8
The soldiers were quite surprised when flames that tended to melt steel were not sufficient, but it seemed they had another problem at hand. Two of the carroballistae would flank around while still firing to see where they seemed to be coming from; the rest of the soldiers would keep firing, only making sure to get some of the peasant-folk to bring over a few barricades to place down. The Priests would continue charging their powers, a shine in the sky indicative of great energy being brought forth. The relief force would also line up and help with the process, a few Hippogryph riders soaring into the sky to look down upon what was happening.
(10x charge 3, 10x charge 2)
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 27, 2016 9:14:13 GMT -8
Moving the carroballistae would prove a costly mistake, although only due to timing. It would be at this moment that the groups climbing the hill would shift slightly. No longer did they come in twos. Now they marched in threes, then fours. The column itself would shift its direction slightly. Under such a flood of troops, there could be no stopping it. They would overwhelm the two mispositioned ballistae, before turning back to their original course. Where before, there was a stalemate, this time there would be a slow shift. Each soldier advancing perhaps an inch further than the last. The viewers from above would see a ribbon of light. A continuous column of soldiers stretching for miles before vanishing into a densely wooded area.
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Post by The Divine Empire of Vessia on Dec 27, 2016 12:11:22 GMT -8
The horses upon the carroballistae were blessed things, and could move much faster than ordinary horses.
The Priests would expend their charges and a Holy white flame would hit the children with the properties of a disease: it would spread from one to the next incinerating the bodies into nothingness. It would travel without any delay from one to the next unavoidable thanks to their proximity and the strange enemies would all be burned.
(All charges expended. If you want to bring in any more enemies you better show me where you are getting your NPC points from)
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 27, 2016 12:52:06 GMT -8
The flames lick over the soldiers, but kill only a few dozen. As they descend, they seem to pause for a moment, fading as they hit an almost imperceptible wall. Weakened, it hits the first group, and incinerates them completely. However, as it spreads, it continues to strike such minor barriers. Individually, they sap little of the spell's strength, but en mass they stop the spell outright after only forty soldiers. By the fifth wave, the corpses begin to endure the damage. This buys a respite of almost a minute, but certainly does nothing to the column, which continues to mount the hill. At this point, the defenders must surely be running low on resources, having expended thousands of bolts. Loading a crossbow is hardly an easy task, requiring strength and time. The timing of the attack is at night, means that the soldiers could hardly be fresh or well rested. Exhaustion begins to sink in. Still the soldiers pour over the peak of the hill.
(What NPCs? You are fighting one creature.)
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Admin
Administrator 
Roleplay posts: 56
Registered: Nov 19, 2014 15:49:56 GMT -8
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Post by Admin on Dec 27, 2016 14:07:21 GMT -8
(These are NPCs. They have to be. They are separate entities from the player character, that in theory, could each exist in a different thread. Most players understand that the system for NPC counts is to assure that no single player can claim the existence of an undefined number of attackers that can easily imbalance the game and ruin lots of fun by creating vastly unfair scenarios. Had this not been a concern, the NPC system would not need to exist. This is very clearly, painfully, obviously happening here and there is no reasonable doubt that this is the strategy at play.
The raison d'etre of the NPC "system" tends to be understood on the instinctive level by the majority of players, comparable with such concepts as taking turns, posting at border threads first, and not automatically posting attack "hits" on another player's characters.
This scene is going to require some adjustment - either a full retcon, or a cessation of cheating from this point forth, depending on the thread author's choosing.)
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Crowned Death
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Registered: Dec 12, 2016 20:10:03 GMT -8
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Post by Crowned Death on Dec 27, 2016 14:18:17 GMT -8
(These are most assuredly not NPCs. I present for your perusal the concept of the Hydra. Cut off one head, and two more will grow. These are not independent beings. They cannot exist on their own. They are the hands and feet of a monster. The bodies are entirely mindless. Are you saying that my character is not allowed to have hands that look like people?)
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