Lord Zee
Vec
JFK
Fetzen
Thayr
BingTheWing
Balon at first felt confusion and blind rage, but calmed upon awakening once again. His amputated leg and torn tendons were healed. His body now rippled with power and muscle, no longer gaunt and degenerate from the long centuries of imprisonment. Elysium's creator had branded Balon's once milky-white skin the color grey using the giant's own plague, to give him a taste of his own poison and to mark him as different, twisted, and corrupted. Somehow, Xir'ain had made Balon's skin even darker, though that hardly mattered.
With a flick of his hand Balon manipulated the water, conjuring a raging current that snatched up his fallen spear and returned it into his hand. The tempest dissipated as abruptly as it had been summoned, though it still would have likely knocked down Enly'air. Balon snatched up his shield, decided to abandon the scraps of metal that had been his armor, and then moved to follow the tiny girl.
She looked exhausted and weak, hardly capable of standing even in the near weightlessness of the water. Balon, in stark contrast, now felt alive and powerful. Balon leered over at her, slightly disappointed that his gaze still had no effect on her. The giant then turned his eyes towards the spear in his hand, admiring how his weapon escaped unscathed, not even scratched by all the tumult that had just occurred. Finally, he spoke, "Little thing, if I were to hit you over the head with the point of this spear, do you reckon that you would be crushed, or cleaved in twain?"
The giant looked back to Enly'air as they walked, hoping for a response and a chance to torment her further.
Cyclone
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Back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, I got started with writing online on the Spore forums. Man, those were the days. We're talking like 12 years ago 2010-ish!
I've been here on and off for almost as long, and have GM'd a bunch of different things to varying success.
I've been here on and off for almost as long, and have GM'd a bunch of different things to varying success.
Word of my splendor:
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Balon mused over his adversary's question- could he stop a plague once it had been set in motion? The giant had never deigned to wonder such a thing. The answer was pointless, as sparing the lives of humans was a pathetic endeavor. His plague had taken time and effort to hone, to make into a lethal weapon that spared no lives. To install any weaknesses in such a masterpiece it would be to dull one's sword. Still, the giant supposed that given time, it would be easy enough for him to mutate a second plague, one that was capable of neutralizing the first and giving humans at least a chance of survival.
Before the giant could respond, Xir'ain had second-guessed himself and dismissed the question. "Indecisive. Foolish," Balon thought to himself. For a being of such arrogance and rashness, witnessing someone change their mind could only be interpreted as a sign of weakness. Still, with his life in imminent danger it would not be wise to say such things aloud.
At last, Xir'ain gave his ultimatum. Balon was grim and of the sort that rarely laughed, yet he found the Keeper's words to be droll. Ironic it was, what this dignified sludge deemed itself. Masters could be rebelled against, creators outlived, and gods defied. Balon had a degree of experience with all three of those things, though he wisely remained silent and revealed no signs of his treacherous nature. In time, perhaps he would regain his freedom. But for now, he would serve. Surrendering his freedom once again was hardly a welcome choice, yet death was even less so.
"Very well," Balon replied, the agony of his severed leg permeating his voice. "I will accept you as those things, Xir'ain. I am the one called Balon, from the oldest and darkest of legends."The giant hadn't spoken hastily, though neither did he pause for long. With his life on the line, he was very cautious to appear sincere. Indeed, perhaps the old king would keep his word this time. Working beneath someone with morals more in line with his own would not be so bad. In any case, it could hardly be worse than imprisonment at the bottom of the sea, or loyalty to a master as insufferable as Elysium's late creator-god.
Before the giant could respond, Xir'ain had second-guessed himself and dismissed the question. "Indecisive. Foolish," Balon thought to himself. For a being of such arrogance and rashness, witnessing someone change their mind could only be interpreted as a sign of weakness. Still, with his life in imminent danger it would not be wise to say such things aloud.
At last, Xir'ain gave his ultimatum. Balon was grim and of the sort that rarely laughed, yet he found the Keeper's words to be droll. Ironic it was, what this dignified sludge deemed itself. Masters could be rebelled against, creators outlived, and gods defied. Balon had a degree of experience with all three of those things, though he wisely remained silent and revealed no signs of his treacherous nature. In time, perhaps he would regain his freedom. But for now, he would serve. Surrendering his freedom once again was hardly a welcome choice, yet death was even less so.
"Very well," Balon replied, the agony of his severed leg permeating his voice. "I will accept you as those things, Xir'ain. I am the one called Balon, from the oldest and darkest of legends."The giant hadn't spoken hastily, though neither did he pause for long. With his life on the line, he was very cautious to appear sincere. Indeed, perhaps the old king would keep his word this time. Working beneath someone with morals more in line with his own would not be so bad. In any case, it could hardly be worse than imprisonment at the bottom of the sea, or loyalty to a master as insufferable as Elysium's late creator-god.
Well, I suppose I should start getting Shaige caught up these next few days. Hopefully my sudden surge of posts will make up for Trapezoid's absence.
The flat, grassy floodplains that surrounded Paterdomus and the rocky shores of the Suri river gave way to a vast expanse. Rolling hills blanketed by forest sprawled for leagues before finally giving way to the nigh impassible Hindrun mountains. The tall trees suffocated and darkened the ground in their shadows, giving a foreboding air to this last pocket of resistance to the Paterdomus' faith; the bastion and homeland of a half dozen tribes of pagan, idol-worshiping savages. After perhaps an hour, Shaige and Ifrit had traversed a distance that would have taken weeks for anyone traversing through the sea of cedars and firs on foot.
As the duo flew over the trees, they came across a small redoubt most hewn of stone. It was a small castle in comparison to most, but it still managed to look over the wilderness landscape. Watchmen stood in its towers and many a guard patrolled atop its walls, suggesting it had a garrison of a few hundred. Wooden spikes stuck out from the battlements, each one adorned with a severed head. The grisly sight was no doubt a means of scaring off any marauding tribesmen that managed to sneak past the surrounding outposts.
Continuing to go further into the wilderness, the duo later came across a few small wooden outposts and watchtowers manned by Paterdomans. These forward outposts served as lodging and supply stations for the crusader armies that went out on expeditions further into the forest. They, along with the stone redoubt further back, also served the purpose of repelling any barbarian invasion. The tribesmen had in the past frequently went on excursions out of their wretched forest and into Paterdomus' hinterlands, reaving the farms, murdering serfs, and taking away from the church's taxes. That, along with the tribes' heresy, was why the natives here found themselves victims of a crusade.
Not much more time passed before the ruins of the Mutig Tribe's village came into view. At long last, the last fires had died out and the sad plumes of smoke were gone. In their place, however, were bands of men sifting through the rubble. Shaige promptly decided to investigate, tugging Ifrit down with him. Shaige stopped and examined one of the men as he approached. He certainly was not one of the grim, pale Paterdomans. However, the Keeper was unable to discern if this was one of his Mutig tribesman, or just a deplorable looter come from an enemy tribe. The man shivered as he walked right through the ghost's invisible form without realizing it.
Shaige reached out to the mind of his construct, Soran. Though he was still only one step above a lowly imp, Soran was the only follower that had demonstrating unwavering loyalty and at least a hint of intelligence. The construct, upon sensing a reestablished mental link, said, Master! Our deaf ears were incapable of hearing your whispers, and we lost contact for some time, as if you had simply vanished from this world. We feared for the worst, that you may have ran out of power and faded back into the void. It is good to sense your presence nearby, for much was accomplished during the tim-"
The Keeper quickly grew tired of his servant's ramblings and interrupted, "Soran. Men walk amongst the ruins of the Mutig village. Did you or Fangir send them?"
As soon as Shaige sensed the answer in Soran's mind, he soared off to the nearby caves that his followers inhabited. Before Soran could even think 'no', Shaige continued "Meet with Fangir. I have one small matter to attend to, and then I shall find the two of you. We must speak."
Shaige ducked into the ground rather than the hidden entrance, dragging Ifrit's ethereal form through a hundred feet of dirt and into a large, unused chamber. A winding tunnel infested with pain elementals separated this room from the rest of the underground city, ensuring that none of the imps or humans would interfere with what was about to happen. Shaige freed himself of the intangible tether that had connected him to Ifrit, and then shortened the thing before attaching it to a stalagmite. Ifrit would barely be able to move, but that was exactly what the Keeper wanted.
The very darkness in the air thickened itself into an ebony paint. Shaige painted an unholy pentagram around where Ifrit was now trapped. It had taken the souls of hundreds of the fallen for the Keeper to instantly turn the rogue being into a ghost, and it would have taken even more to bring back the creature into the physical world. Shaige did not have such resources on hand, and so he had to settle for this ritual. The pentagram on the floor would slowly siphon energy from the land and channel it into Ifrit, restoring his body. Over the course of a few days, the rogue being would be pulled completely back into the world of the living. Now, however, he would find himself seemingly abandoned by his master and left to rot in a room devoid of any light.
Shaige followed the aura emanated by Soran, heading through the walls and ground once more. There had been no time to explain what was happening to Ifrit, but that was no matter. The scion would surely be fine for a few days, and in the form of a ghost he would be unable to escape or wreak havoc in the underground city. Of course, that might happen once he was finally pulled into the physical world, but by then Shaige would hopefully have time to deal with his new minion.
As the duo flew over the trees, they came across a small redoubt most hewn of stone. It was a small castle in comparison to most, but it still managed to look over the wilderness landscape. Watchmen stood in its towers and many a guard patrolled atop its walls, suggesting it had a garrison of a few hundred. Wooden spikes stuck out from the battlements, each one adorned with a severed head. The grisly sight was no doubt a means of scaring off any marauding tribesmen that managed to sneak past the surrounding outposts.
Continuing to go further into the wilderness, the duo later came across a few small wooden outposts and watchtowers manned by Paterdomans. These forward outposts served as lodging and supply stations for the crusader armies that went out on expeditions further into the forest. They, along with the stone redoubt further back, also served the purpose of repelling any barbarian invasion. The tribesmen had in the past frequently went on excursions out of their wretched forest and into Paterdomus' hinterlands, reaving the farms, murdering serfs, and taking away from the church's taxes. That, along with the tribes' heresy, was why the natives here found themselves victims of a crusade.
Not much more time passed before the ruins of the Mutig Tribe's village came into view. At long last, the last fires had died out and the sad plumes of smoke were gone. In their place, however, were bands of men sifting through the rubble. Shaige promptly decided to investigate, tugging Ifrit down with him. Shaige stopped and examined one of the men as he approached. He certainly was not one of the grim, pale Paterdomans. However, the Keeper was unable to discern if this was one of his Mutig tribesman, or just a deplorable looter come from an enemy tribe. The man shivered as he walked right through the ghost's invisible form without realizing it.
Shaige reached out to the mind of his construct, Soran. Though he was still only one step above a lowly imp, Soran was the only follower that had demonstrating unwavering loyalty and at least a hint of intelligence. The construct, upon sensing a reestablished mental link, said, Master! Our deaf ears were incapable of hearing your whispers, and we lost contact for some time, as if you had simply vanished from this world. We feared for the worst, that you may have ran out of power and faded back into the void. It is good to sense your presence nearby, for much was accomplished during the tim-"
The Keeper quickly grew tired of his servant's ramblings and interrupted, "Soran. Men walk amongst the ruins of the Mutig village. Did you or Fangir send them?"
As soon as Shaige sensed the answer in Soran's mind, he soared off to the nearby caves that his followers inhabited. Before Soran could even think 'no', Shaige continued "Meet with Fangir. I have one small matter to attend to, and then I shall find the two of you. We must speak."
Shaige ducked into the ground rather than the hidden entrance, dragging Ifrit's ethereal form through a hundred feet of dirt and into a large, unused chamber. A winding tunnel infested with pain elementals separated this room from the rest of the underground city, ensuring that none of the imps or humans would interfere with what was about to happen. Shaige freed himself of the intangible tether that had connected him to Ifrit, and then shortened the thing before attaching it to a stalagmite. Ifrit would barely be able to move, but that was exactly what the Keeper wanted.
The very darkness in the air thickened itself into an ebony paint. Shaige painted an unholy pentagram around where Ifrit was now trapped. It had taken the souls of hundreds of the fallen for the Keeper to instantly turn the rogue being into a ghost, and it would have taken even more to bring back the creature into the physical world. Shaige did not have such resources on hand, and so he had to settle for this ritual. The pentagram on the floor would slowly siphon energy from the land and channel it into Ifrit, restoring his body. Over the course of a few days, the rogue being would be pulled completely back into the world of the living. Now, however, he would find himself seemingly abandoned by his master and left to rot in a room devoid of any light.
Shaige followed the aura emanated by Soran, heading through the walls and ground once more. There had been no time to explain what was happening to Ifrit, but that was no matter. The scion would surely be fine for a few days, and in the form of a ghost he would be unable to escape or wreak havoc in the underground city. Of course, that might happen once he was finally pulled into the physical world, but by then Shaige would hopefully have time to deal with his new minion.
Just play Youtube in the background; there are lots of videos that just consist of music. There's a channel called TheWeedSongs that has a bunch of Bob Marly and 2Pac, if you're into that kind of thing. 
R4inator said
Wow... that's actually a perfect description of what I was going for.You are a great person.
It's nice to have fans.
If that's the case, then would it be okay to create a (ruined) city somewhere? Like a forgotten and/or nearly abandoned city?
Certainly. Aside from the basic climates and major cities that we defined on the map, everything in the world is a blank slate that you can fill with whatever you want.
Lord Rain- A keeper that resembles a large person wearing an intimidating set of black armor, adorned with a few metal skulls on it. He charges into the fray of combat with two axes that cackle with dancing electricity, both of them far too heavy for any normal human to wield.
That Compendium entry paints a picture in your mind and condenses that entire section of your post into two sentences. If you aren't going to write a better summary then you can use that, but you won't get the perfect description unless you write it yourself.
That Compendium entry paints a picture in your mind and condenses that entire section of your post into two sentences. If you aren't going to write a better summary then you can use that, but you won't get the perfect description unless you write it yourself.
You already did make a good and rather detailed description of Lord Rain's new avatar, all you have to do is summarize that into a few sentences.
Well, if you want you could ask somebody else to control the defenders. Heck, I could do it if you want.
But anyways, concerning the city's strength there are a few things to take into account. The OP states that major cities are between 100,000 and 1,500,000 in population. Since Altearx is a remote fortress-city, it will probably be on the low end of that scale. Say we have 150,000 people. I'm not sure exactly what percentage of an early Renaissance era city would be soldiers, but if we just say 3% that gives us 4,500.
Let's round that and say that there is a garrison of 5,000 highly trained soldiers, many of which will be in the form of mages. As the OP also explains, even those that aren't mages make liberal use of magic in whatever ways they can: augmented bodies, enchanted weapons and armor, and so on. In a fair fight, many of them could probably stand against a level one or two creature. It would take a few to fell anything more than that.
However, this will hardly be a fair fight. Altearx is a fortress city, and in medieval times it wasn't unheard of for 500 men to hold off a siege of 10,000. If you do go the siege route, the city will be a hard nut to crack because it would obviously have a ton of food stored inside and you would somehow have to stop ships from coming into the harbor with supplies. The fact that Elysium is in an odd phase between medieval and Renaissance times means that cannons might change things up a bit, particularly because they are quite good at blowing up walls.
Since there are several thousand soldiers in addition to any forces in surrounding lands, militias, and unorganized civilian defenses, a siege is probably a terrible idea until Viktor has troops numbering above 10,000. A sneak attack is what would make the most sense. There will probably be several different barracks throughout the city, but your idea to bomb the main one would still severely cripple their defenses. Then, if you somehow managed to sneak inside the city walls, in the resulting chaos you could probably take over with just a few thousand creatures, especially if you have constructs and if some of those creatures are level 3 or 4.
Altearx really needs to be fleshed out more to talk about specifics, though. Ask questions like, "What type of magic could the sorcerers have? How could Viktor handle that?" and "Would it makes sense for the city to have tunnels below it, or sewers/floodgates that go to the harbor? If so, could Viktor's army get in through those? How would he find out about them?"
But anyways, concerning the city's strength there are a few things to take into account. The OP states that major cities are between 100,000 and 1,500,000 in population. Since Altearx is a remote fortress-city, it will probably be on the low end of that scale. Say we have 150,000 people. I'm not sure exactly what percentage of an early Renaissance era city would be soldiers, but if we just say 3% that gives us 4,500.
Let's round that and say that there is a garrison of 5,000 highly trained soldiers, many of which will be in the form of mages. As the OP also explains, even those that aren't mages make liberal use of magic in whatever ways they can: augmented bodies, enchanted weapons and armor, and so on. In a fair fight, many of them could probably stand against a level one or two creature. It would take a few to fell anything more than that.
However, this will hardly be a fair fight. Altearx is a fortress city, and in medieval times it wasn't unheard of for 500 men to hold off a siege of 10,000. If you do go the siege route, the city will be a hard nut to crack because it would obviously have a ton of food stored inside and you would somehow have to stop ships from coming into the harbor with supplies. The fact that Elysium is in an odd phase between medieval and Renaissance times means that cannons might change things up a bit, particularly because they are quite good at blowing up walls.
Since there are several thousand soldiers in addition to any forces in surrounding lands, militias, and unorganized civilian defenses, a siege is probably a terrible idea until Viktor has troops numbering above 10,000. A sneak attack is what would make the most sense. There will probably be several different barracks throughout the city, but your idea to bomb the main one would still severely cripple their defenses. Then, if you somehow managed to sneak inside the city walls, in the resulting chaos you could probably take over with just a few thousand creatures, especially if you have constructs and if some of those creatures are level 3 or 4.
Altearx really needs to be fleshed out more to talk about specifics, though. Ask questions like, "What type of magic could the sorcerers have? How could Viktor handle that?" and "Would it makes sense for the city to have tunnels below it, or sewers/floodgates that go to the harbor? If so, could Viktor's army get in through those? How would he find out about them?"
Ah, I just finished school two or three weeks ago. Well, hope you have a good break after tomorrow!
And thanks for letting us know about that trip. We'll be sure not to blow up Viktor's dungeon while you're away.
And thanks for letting us know about that trip. We'll be sure not to blow up Viktor's dungeon while you're away.
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