An Outsider — Roleplayer Guild

Scylla and Charybdis

The pounding on glass continued, intensified, like the tempo of tribal drums, matching Arthur's heartbeat.  He could feel it reverberating deep inside him, waking something primal, something ancient, something. . . .powerful.  His gaze wandered over the weapons hung carefully in the cabinet as the blood pumped furious in his veins.  His whole body felt like it was building itself up for something, the promise of violence making his flesh tingle.  The barbarian who'd just spied his next victim.  The bomb that's countdown had just started ticking away the seconds.  The beating inside kept getting louder, blocking out everything else, louder and louder, making it harder to think straight, louder and louder and louder, pressing up against everything inside him, louder and louder and louder and louder, until there wasn't any other option, louder and louder and LOUDER and LOUDER. He made his choice, sweaty palms grasping at his chosen weapon.  A key clicked into place.  The beating stopped suddenly, almost painfully.  He could think again, but to do so he'd made a promise.

And a promise had to be kept.  

"What to do, what to do?"  Vulko's voice was small, especially for a man so used to being loud.  He was out of his element here, not used to dealing with the true dangers of the ocean.  He couldn't stop watching the Trench watching him as they screamed and railed outside the glass, his eyes transfixed by their sharp teeth and pitiless black eyes.  "What do we do?"

"You know me Vulko.  What d' you think I'm gonna do?" Arthur answered, though he was willing to bet Vulko wasn't really looking for an answer.  More like he was just trying to deal with the terror.  Still the words, calmly spoken, seemed to yank Vulko from the edge of fear induced dumbfoundedness.  The old Scholar turned slowly to face his Prince, understanding dawning slowly upon.  

"You don't mean to go out there and fight those things?"

"Don't see that I have a choice."

"What, armed only with that?" demanded Mera, pointing at the weapon in Arthurs hand.  Three handspans of roughly worked golden metal, gently curved and ending in a vicious hook.  It was attached to a length of chain that clicked onto Arthur's vambrace.  Ancient Atlantean runes adorned the blade, a language the Prince still hadn't gotten around to learning, though in happier times Vulko assured him the words on the blade were of little interest.  It was a gift from his mother, given to him on the day he became Champion.  It had seen a lot work in Arthur's hands.  It was about to see more.

"You pick the tool for the job Princess."  He replied, remembering his earlier misgivings about being sent on this mission.  Seems the Poseidonis council had sent the right man for the job after all, even if it was for reasons they couldn't possibly have foreseen.  Just his luck.  He approached the cockpit doors.  

"In that case, I shall go with you."  Said the Princess, marching after him.  After a seconds hesitation Vulko followed.  

"And I." He ventured, though didn't look very happy about it.  Arthur paused.    

"No, stay in the ship."He ordered.  Mera argued, Vulko not so much.  About as much as he expected.  "My job is to protect you Princess, and I can't do that if you're out there.  Stay here, be safe.  I'll deal with this."

"But there's too many of them out there, even for you, Golden One."  There was a way she said it, a twist of the syllables, that left him in no doubt that she had not a jot of respect for the title. 

"She makes a good point Orin.  In fact, why go out at all?  The ship seems to be holding.  Could we not simply return to Poseidonis?  Even with those monsters beating at the glass all the way, surely the sturdy construction of the craft would confound their best efforts?"

If only that was an option, but Arthur had already made the promise, and a promise has to be kept.  On top of that there was other reasons that just wouldn't work.  

"Don't underestimate them Vulko, they're stronger than they look."  Almost as if to punctuate his point the window the Trench were hurling themselves at gave out a tiny crack, the smallest hints of a fissure appearing in the glass.  Small, yes.  But apt to get bigger.  "Besides, you know as well as I do that once the Trench find prey, they never stop hunting it.  Not unless they find easier prey.  Think of all the defenseless settlements we'd pass on our way back to the city.  We'd lead the Trench right to them.  No, better I settle this now.  Just stay here and stay safe.  I'll be back soon." With that he left, closing the door behind him before they could offer anymore arguments.  

Like he'd take a Sholar and a Princess out to fight Trench, regardless of how brave they were.  Dangerous enough, facing those bloodthirsty monsters, without him also having to worry about to wet behind the ear, rookie combatants.  Vulko was a powerful mage, sure, but his talents weren't combat orientated, and besides, he just wasn't cut out for a scrap like this.  And Mera?  Passionate, sharp and strong she might be, but she just wasn't trained for something like this.  Way he heard it, she'd never even left Xebel before, never been outside the comfortable lap of luxury her father afforded for her.  No, he'd be lucky if he got out of this in one piece as things stood without tying those two lead weights around his ankles.

He walked to the back of the craft, towards the bay doors designed for a swift egress into the surrounding waters.  Fist gripped tight around the hilt of his hook-chain, he took several deep breaths, quick and sharp, in preparation for submerging himself in the chill water.  Or maybe it was to work up his nerve for what was to come next.  Who knew?

Arthur certainly didn't.

GMs can trust that they share expectations of quality and creative direction, making it nice that they even put up any kind of CS at all. I've seen plenty of GMs that don't over the years. 

And you can't cherry pick which players get to do a CS, and which don't. So.@Ruby

Maybe so, but like I already said to GG, a GM should best embody the standards they wish their players to meet.  If they want a player to fill out a full CS with six paragraphs of origin story, a cast of supporting characters, and a sample post then I feel it not only fair, but also courteous if they do the same.  After all, the leader most respected is one that shares the hardships of those they wish to lead.  On top of that A lazy GM encourages lazy players.  Fair enough, a player can't emulate a GM in not finishing their CS because then said player just doesn't get to play.  They never get the chance to be lazy.  But if we don't jump that first hurdle, I.E. Completion of CS's, and instead just barrel through it and hope for the best, who's to say we're going to manage to jump any of the hurdles that follows.

Regardless, I was just busting balls.  I can't actually make anyone finish a CS, and as you say GG and Vandy are well within their rights to never finish them.  Doesn't mean I'll stop winding them up about it though.

That and trying to start an OOC revolt.

An Outsider Member

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