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    1. Tangletail 9 yrs ago

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7 yrs ago
Current Game halfway done: but on pause
8 yrs ago
Programming a Wasteland/Fallout 1&2 style game. Going so and so.

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Superior in forms of practicality :P but I wouldn't say protection. leather is a bitch to cut with a normal sword motion, but it's doable. If it's not thick or hardened then you can stab through it easily. Gamberson would be better than Leather. But Mail, you're not cutting mail XD. You can still stab through it... but it's really... really hard. And you'd need a sword designed for that like the estoc to do it easily. Which is why you invert the sword and hammer on em.

EDIT

To make Chain Mail more annoying... it's usually augmented with a Gamberson anyways :P.
I understand that, and the reasoning behind it, applying it to everything still seems odd, its like saying "Ok your character is x so must be y" its deliberately limiting, it also extends the LoEE far beyond it's actual meaning and perverts it into something it is not.


I think it's to compensate for the fact that this RP might wind up having two players actually fight each other to the death, till injury, or till a point of strategic victory.

It's honestly not fun when when you're rolling with a more mundane character that's been through hell and back, and has been knocked around for the past few months. To fight someone who's bordering the lines of a god by simply swipping his weapon through the air, and ignoring any form of armor like butter. Leather and Quilted armors are harder to get through than people think. Yet swords tend to treat chainmail like a joke.
I feel this is rapidly spiraling out of control.

Also randomly inserting a Alchemical law from a completely unrelated universe seems rather odd.

And a nerdy kid who grew up in a much different time, I consider myself to be pretty fit, Im not some athlete by any standards, but I am probably much healthier than the average medieval farm boy. Saying that, I would be pretty nervous to get in a fight with one.


I think she means the Achilles heal. Someone who's incredibly powerful will have a detrimental and nearly ridiculous weakness. There's also the canon threat of burnouts where you can permanently lock yourself out of channeling for good.

Annnnd there is the Dumb Heroic death trope, where someone in their hubris or biggotry believe that they can overcome terrible odds by running their forehead into it... instead of taking a step back to notice they are standing in front of the equivalent of a Calvary charged by big furry men with tree trunks for clubs, running as fast as horses, and is a moving line that goes all the way to the mountains.

I've seen those players, by the way @_@;
To be fair about the trollocs, one-four is a match for an average man on his toes. A well trained, disciplined, and clever man could probably take on more... provided he's not overwhelmed.... meaning completely surrounded and getting attacked at all directions at overlapping frequencies, Or cornered, or has an endless supply charging him through a poorly defended doorway.

What is an overlapping frequency? Look at Assassin's Creed, and notice how the enemy constant takes turns attacking you. It's definitely not that.
@Free Faller Any chance that Laila and the Jackal recognize each other? They both have a background that seems like it'd have a cross section for the both of them at the Rogue Guilds. The difference being that Jackal was simply a contract thief, or fixer if you want to use slang, instead of being an official member of the guilds.

On a side note... the reason a Guild would hire a fixer is the security of a lack of information if that person is captured. So you'd send them into terribly high risk situations to set up a job for the guild members.
The world rocked in a rhythm under the thunderous patter of hooves in the early morning. A wagon moving large boxes of trade goods and two passengers was being led by a team of horses. One of the passengers was an older man that held the reins. His face became leathery long before his youth had ended him. His eyes were tired, and he was balding. But judging by his clothes, he was definitely a trader.

The other? A Ra’Sheek who was lounging on one of the boxes. Probably the most obvious feature about him was the armor he was wearing, even though he was under no current contract as hired muscle. His eyes had been in the clouds. He watched them scroll on by in their various little cloud shapes. Heck, he even recalled that one sort of vaguely looked like a….. well… a cloud. There was nothing… absolutely… nothing… entertaining about cloud watching it seems.

At least the Ra’Sheek, known as Jackal, had his sanity rescued by the call of the trader’s voice. The voice had pulled him from his stupor of three hours’ worth of cloud gazing to muster up a single thought, and a single word.

Leon turned to look to the man with a dazed expression, and responded with a simple “Huh?”

“I said your stops here, son,” The older man grumbled. He had turned about to look towards the back of his cart. A small frown was visible on his lips when he had found that the man was lounging like a cat on a pile of very pointy boxes. The wagon had stopped sometime prior. “By the divines, I swear young people don’t pay attention these days. Not unless it’s for a coin or some damned prettied up lass on the corner of a street.”

The Ra’Sheek slowly stretched and stood up. “Hey hey hey – old man,” he laughed after hopping off of the wagon. “That’s no no fair. You used to be young yourself. Reckon that you you got some city miles on you.”

“Hah! And I was a fool then,” The old man entered a snicker fit, barely able to keep himself up right and his owns on the man as he laughed. “Boy, I tell you that I couldn’t remember a SINGLE day that I wasn’t concerned with going up to the first nice leg on the street! Three copper coins was all it took for you to have some company that night, and one more to go the full mile! And those lassy's were gorgeous sometimes, and sometimes they looked like d-UWAH!?”

He had cut himself off early to bawk in surprise when he finally looked up to find the man missing. In fact, it didn’t even seem like he had existed. The pile of boxes he had made to make his bedding had been righted back into order. The trash the two had accumulated over their journey had been reduced to just the merchant’s. And, there was naught a foot print.

“Now hold on there…” he said transfixed as he quickly stood up on his wagon and looked around. “Huh… I ain’t old enough to be senile yet. Shooot, young people making you think you’re crazy. Ain’t naw lick of respect for an old man these days…” He mumbled softly to himself before sitting down and riding off.




The Jackal prowled the road himself while humming a cheery Ra’Sheekian tune. Even as he walked up right, he stepped like a cat might stalk through the streets. Barely a noise, and always on his toes. Though it’d seem like his heels were making contact with the ground, on closer inspection you could see how the shadow hid under his boots. It was a habbit he picked up in his younger ears with all the sneaking around he had to do. And it seemed like it stuck to him as he grew.
It wasn’t much longer before Jackal reached the walls of the great City of Starkvale. But by then it was about eight in the morning. It seemed business was bustling out here. There was some sort of lockout decree passed as far as Jackal could tell. There were the usual peasants complaining to the guard about having family inside, or that they lived here. Some of whom apparently had left the proper papers inside. And of course… the line. Fortunately it was fairly short. The man assumed it wouldn’t take too long given that there were only five people there. And so he took his spot.

Once it was his turn, he approached the guards and studied each one of them carefully. He was taken aback by what he saw.

It was like something out of a thief’s nightmare. Each one of them looked like hardcases. Except for one, who just looked like he was a hardass the moment left his mama’s womb! None of them were smiling. And not a single one of them looked like they weren’t paying attention to what was going on around him!

Heck, the one guy that any fool may think so with the way he was yawning, was only pretending to be aloof. Oh no, Jackal could see those alert eyes. He wanted some action! He was trying to give a bit of a spark.
They might as well have put all of the cities executioners up here.

“State your business…” The… sergeant grumbled after looking up from his paper work. His eyes definitely had a no nonsense look about them.

“Ahhhhh…” Jackal began as he slowly looked away from the other guards to the sergeant before him. “Lookin lookin for work. Here to to join up with the upstart guild.”

“You and every other sell sword,” The Sergeant grumbled. The man looked the merc up and down with a scowl. Obviously seeing something he doesn’t like. Leave it to the city watch to pick out a possible thief among the mass. “Listen here. I don’t like the look you got on you, but I’m sending you back with an escort anyways. When you get behind that gate, you keep your damned hands to yourself, stay in my men’s line of sight, and cause no trouble. If you get hired in, fine. But if you’re rejected you better come back out here immediate. Do you hear what I am saying?”

“Yes yes yes yes,” The Jackal hummed as he lifted both hands in the air, open palms facing the sergeant. A large grin on his face, and eyes beaming with confidence, despite the bead of sweat running down his brow betraying his nervousness about the situation. “You won’t hear any who-haw about me me being delinquent. You have my word, sir sir!”

The Sergeant mean mugged him for what felt like an eternity. And in turn, Jackal kept his big stupid grin for that eternity. But… eventually the sergeant raised a thumb pointing to the gate. “Get the hell in there and stop holdin up the damned line. And somebody escort him on in!”

@Fetzen@POOHEAD189@BCTheEntity@rush99999
[REDACTED]

Wasn't paying attention.
Working on the entrance post.


Sure, I can give it a go. Is there anything else that you had in mind?
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