User has no status, yet


User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

I am still here, just been a quite busy. Should have a couple of relatively quiet weeks coming up though to get back at this.
Player Name: Blitzy

Character Name: Edrin Gardra

Race: Dwarf

Role/Class/Occupation: Warrior, Rogue, Merchant

Character Description: Edrin stands at 4 feet and 8 inches tall, stocky and broad as his kind usually are. The top of his head is completely bald, in stark contrast to the thick brown beard that covers the lower half of his face. His nose is small and wide, seemingly squashed against his face, sat between small hazel eyes. The most distinguishing part of his appearance is his facial tattoos; sharp, black patterning resembling rows of spearheads, sprawling over his forehead and cheeks. Many wrongly believe these to be caste tattoos but they are purely for decoration. Edrin dresses in comfortable travelling leathers. While they are not the most protective, they are light and warm, ideal for someone who travels lots and settles rarely. He fights with the ferocity his kind are renowned for, with discipline and deadly efficiency, guarding himself with a round wooden shield and striking out with a one-handed axe. For eliminating ranged targets, he carries throwing axes. Otherwise, he must rely on cunning and wit for survival, and is not shy of taking an immoral route to ensure his head stays on his shoulders.
@Gcold I am still here, just sorta quietly observing at the moment.

Male • Dwarf • 31 • Warrior/Rogue

I'll likely be playing a surface dwarf, warrior/rogue hybrid, throwing axes and all sorts.
A collaborative post by @Blitzy and @Eneui

Upon entering the servants’ quarters, Amathel and Ralorin were treated to a most putrid odor. The smell of centuries of decay with little maintenance was repugnant, and the pair could all but hear the squirming of insects and mice from within the walls. Once inside, the elves noticed five skeletons laying idly on five separate beds. There were four beds that line the left wall, but the farthest inward had no skeleton of its own. There was little light in the room, and with neither Ralorin or Amathel being dark elves, it made seeing all the more difficult. Even still, their sharp elven senses were enough them both to make out the silhouette of tomes, scattered on the bed along with a stuffed bear. On the floor beside the bed were a host of blankets, no doubt imbued with the musk of old blood and dirt. Likewise, one of the three beds along the right-hand wall was also without a skeleton. This one was closer to the entranceway. This bed was barren, as if someone had been moved out of their quarters. All that remained on the bed were a few spots of long-dried blood and the ripped arm of a stuffed bear.

Ralorin surveyed the room through small, squinted eyes. He had followed the high elven giantess up the stairs to the servants’ quarters simply because he didn’t care for the smell of whatever it was that Elias was maiming, but this certainly was not an improvement. The stench was hardly better, and the sight of all these decayed corpses was certainly worse than watching their ward rip the arms off a hollow man. Ralorin couldn’t recall even one occasion in his life where he’d felt so disgusted. The small elf stepped further into the room, pointed ears twitching slightly as he tried to ignore the squeaks of rats behind the rotten panels of the walls. He walked slowly between the rows of beds, looking to his left, then to his right, taking in the sheer horror of the sight, wondering what could have caused all of these people to die in their beds. “Well, this is just lovely,” he remarked sarcastically. He stopped at the edge of the empty bed, littered with dusty old tomes. Dragging a slender finger along the rotting wooden bed frame, Ralorin brought the grime up to his face, before blowing away the years of dust and dirt in disgust. He turned to face Amathel. “5 people, dead on their own beds. It doesn’t look like they tried to run, or defend themselves from anything, it’s like they just… died.” He paused for a moment and looked over the skeletons once more. “What could have done this?”

Amathel did not know what to make of the tiny man following her up the stairs, he was a Wood Elf, and her Father had his own choice words for them, but Amathel herself had yet to properly decide. The place they found themselves in however, “Well it certainly is a delight, as far as the deaths go, context is everything, when it happened, those involved, let us hope they are not fresh kills and that something is skulking around melting flesh.“ Amathel was perfectly aware of the dried blood, and the fact that anything she just said was extremely unlikely, but making the already seemingly twitchy elf even worse was becoming a passtime. “As for a real answer, they died in their beds, if it were a beast of any kind I would hope they would notice it. More than likely one of their own may have caused this or somebody new who was not supposed to be here." Amathel twisted the tiny gold ring around her finger, of all the things here for some reason, the little arm of the stuffed bear worried her more than anything else, she hoped she would not find a child here in any form of death, though looking around it was as if she had to be more specific to herself, She hoped there were no children here at all. As far as a proper search was concerned, Amathel’s closer inspection of the bunks, as if it were not in plain sight already, lead to the sight of the words written above each bed in dried blood. “I am beginning to like my theory of, they were killed by one of their own. Liar, Traitor, Maligner, False Witness, Either we have a murderous priest of some kind purging people for their sins, or mayhaps somebody here has a few gripes with the servants.“

She had a point. Ralorin turned his attention to the words above the beds. Every bed with a corpse had a word to match, and the beds that were lacking bodies were also missing words. Ralorin processed them one by one, trying to make sense of the gruesome puzzle before them. Liar. Traitor. Those two seemed simple enough, self explanatory. Maligner. Ralorin wasn’t even sure he knew what it meant, but assumed it was in keeping with the theme of dishonesty. False Witness. Deceiver. Perplexed was an understatement. Whoever had taken it upon themselves to commit this atrocity clearly had very strong, personal feelings driving them on. It was likely that the empty beds were not a mere coincidence. The small elf visibly shuddered, imagining what it would be like to live and sleep feet away from someone who would later murder you and write on the wall with your blood. It didn’t bear thinking about. “I don’t understand this.” He walked to the end of the room, to the empty bed littered with books. He lifted the first tome; the cover was obscured by years of dust but a short sharp breath soon revealed it to be a children’s book. So was the next one. Children’s books and a stuffed bear. If children had been involved here, that just made things even creepier. Ralorin picked up the third tome, and flicked through the rotting pages. “Look at this,” he said, beckoning Amathel to come closer. He held the book out so that they could both see the pages. “Minerva. A human goddess?” He flicked through the pages. Sure enough, the name was repeated on every single one. He handed the book to Amathel and picked up a fourth. Sure enough, there was that name again, except this one spoke about magic, a ponderous tome. “All of a sudden murderous priest doesn’t sound so far-fetched. What do you think?”

Amathel rolled her eyes, her quip about the priest thing had been a joke but now that a human goddess had found it’s way into their little mystery Amathel was afraid to make any more jokes. “I seriously doubt a priest is involved, If I remember correctly from my encounters with humans Minerva is a goddess of magic in one way or another, guardian of mages or something along those lines. If she has anything to do with it, it would be more likely that one of the servants was a mage and this is the result of a rather fearful employer finding out, but then the messages make no sense in this context.“ Amathel found little more than what Ralorin did, she knew quite a few humans, or at least was spoken at by those who felt that her scowl meant she wished to hear them speak. While some humans revered magic, as evidenced by the existence of Minerva, like any race of peoples just as many tended to fear what they do not understand. “Really though, I suspect that learning about this will do little more than satisfy morbid curiosity. I doubt any monsters other than human had anything to do with this. I suspect we should move on, back with the others and see what they found.“ It was almost as if she planned it, the horrible shrieking that pierced the air echoing from outside. Amathel grimaced and cursed herself under her breath, it was almost a quiet mission, she loved the quiet missions. “Right on que, let’s go.“
Oh yes please.
@Famotill should be completed, let me know what you think.

Corros Meeran

Sergeant Vytuia ran over the plan while the squad took their seats in the shuttle. Corros swung his pack lazily off of his back as he fell into his seat, securing himself and holding his equipment upright between his knees. He resisted the chance to liken the stench of Lotho Minor to his own dear squadmates; as much as he enjoyed being a smart-ass, even Corros wasn't stupid enough to upset the people that he'd be dependent on in a few moments if things were to go south. Instead he did something he rarely ever did; he just shut up and listen. The plan seemed relatively simple. Land to the south, reach the building, clear the building, secure the building. Two more squads would do the same from the opposite side and the roof respectively. Corros couldn't tell what the Sergeant was thinking as he flashed up a holographic map. His face was calm, which was reassuring, but then again, even if they were about to jump out of the shuttle straight down a saralcc's throat, Sergeant Vytuia would look like he was on his way to dinner.

The devil was in the detail, or more accurately, the complete lack of it. Situations like this always made Corros nervous. Even just being told they had to be ready to split into squads, without designating them, left room for confusion that could cost someone their life under the wrong circumstances. They had no real intel on why the facility had gone dark, and no idea who may be responsible. Their scans had shown no signs of activity on the outside, but it didn't take a genius to know that this was not any form of reassurance at all. It could have been a number of things, from unhappy locals, to rebellions, to a horrific industrial accident. For the whole facility to go dark just like that, it had to be something pretty major. The thought of it made Corros shift in his seat, and for a moment he thanked his helmet for masking his probably very concerned-looking face.

When the Sarge was done talking, he opened the floor for questions. The new guy, Malik Skaya, spoke up first. "How important is it that the facility remains intact? Will we be able to use thermal detonators inside or should such destruction be avoided?" It was an important question, and the main one that Corros had been wondering too. He always felt safer with a Smart Rocket at his disposal to bail him out but if they were under instruction to keep the facility intact, which was most likely, he may as well leave it on the shuttle and enjoy having a slightly lighter pack for once. Corros liked this guy, which was helpful considering he may well be smearing bacta on Corros' chest in the next few hours. He seemed switched on, and it took a certain confidence to speak up with questions first in a room full of complete strangers, no matter how drilled you were.

Callus asked a question along similar lines, about breaching vs slicing. Corros hoped it was breaching so that he hadn't hauled all these explosives from the armoury to the shuttle for no reason, but knew it was likely to be slicing, again in the interest of protecting the integrity of the Imperial facility and minimizing the cost of getting it up and running again. Corros didn't really have any questions himself. The only thing he wondered was what had caused it to go dark down there, and with any luck they'd find that out very soon. Besides, no one else knew either, so it was a pointless question to voice. Instead he held his tongue, fidgeting slightly in his seat as the shuttle ramp went up.
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet