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DearTrickster female Member

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6 yrs ago
Updating playlist thing on my bio today, if you're ever looking for the link again or want it on a different platform just pm me and tricky will hook you up.
7 yrs ago
This one time I seriously considered buying a dick rose phone case.
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Bio


Made by Luna


Name is Tricks. I haven't been around RPG for very long but I've went and gotten myself into some cool games.

Create-a-Hero: Season 2

Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

So

Please like me and my trash baby characters.



I've made a shit ton some playlists. Here's a list of 'em.

Most Recent Posts

In Mass Effect Andromeda: Frontier → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
My first Nexus Archive post! Buckle in for some feels. Also listen to the links~

In The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
26th of Rain’s Hand, 4E208. A @Dervish & @DearTrickster Collab

It had been quiet days spent roaming up and down the aisles of books at the Arcane University. Among peers, and friends that had decided to visit. As of that morning, Daro’Vasora had joined Judena among the University’s archives. They poured over tomes collecting shreds of information, anything they could find relating to the phenomenon that had turned Jerell Mountain into a beacon.

Judena stopped peering at the shelf, an arm already stacked with a couple books. She shrugged pulling the small journal free of the shelf, plopping it on top. Dressed in modest apprentice robes, old and the only robe she had that wasn’t eaten by moths. She rounded the corner of a long shelf, coming up to the work table. Scrolls with notes sat in a neat pile, Judena’s logbook was alongside them open with her notes.

“I believe I have collected a few other good sources, however I do apologize - I lost the page we wrote down all the titles I was meant to go looking for. I managed about three.” Judena gently placed them on the desk. “I do hope whomever penned in this journal wrote a little bigger than the last one.”

Daro’Vasora was garbed in simple, albeit fine trousers and a jerkin, her boots set nicely off to the side with a daypack that contained a number of her own notes and supplies for passing the day in a number of tomes that hopefully would illuminate what exactly they had encountered in the Jerall Mountains. A bag of honey tree nuts and another of smoked jerky sat beside her; her mind focused much more efficiently if she were keeping her mouth busy. On the other side, a pile of books and manuscripts she’d dug up with Judena were stacked neatly in order of importance, at least at first glance. The Khajiit glanced up as her companion returned, setting her own findings down on the table.

Vasora enjoyed Judena’s company, and the two of them had a bit of a history built on mutual respect and appropriating one another’s expertise when the need arose. While the Argonian’s mental deterioration had been an oftentimes annoying obstacle to overcome, at this point it was no different than dealing with a relative’s health complications. She barely noticed the lapses in memory most of the time these days.

“Paper is at a premium if you aren’t rich,” Vasora replied, slipping a strip of meat between her lips and working through it with small, measured bites. “I’m more of the mind that those who practice overly flourished calligraphy that sacrifices practicality for stroking their ego is much more tiresome.” She rolled her jaw, massaging her temple with a pair of clawed fingers. “You know what the frustrating part of the Dwemer is? They left behind a virtually untouched wonderland of infrastructure and engineering, but there’s barely any history. It’s like they were allergic to writing their thoughts and observations down, or stored it some way we don’t know. What we know is what historians pieced together centuries after the fact. War with the Chimer, enslaving the Falmer, a serious loathing of Nords, the splinter group that settled in Hammerfell… all of that is child’s knowledge. Why are there no mention of any settlement or interest in the Jerall Mountains? There aren’t even strange names for places I don’t recognize.”

“If the Dwemer were to practice calligraphy we may know a bit more about them. What we do have is a hundred different perspectives of interpretation. One of them must be close. For that I am thankful to pour through. A hundred minds have already done the work we can simply read. Do not grow discouraged my young friend.” Judena replied flipping the journal open with a shortened talon. “We have quite the unprecedented discovery on our hands, I feel as though had we returned to the mountain to see the source of the light - the beacon we may have had some better understanding.”

Jude pulled a chair to sit in, folding her tail to the side. “I have mulled it over to some length the past few days what the purpose of this light is. If you want the in depth thoughts they are in my logbook. However I came to a conclusion with the way it brightly shines directly into the sky and can be seen for miles and miles it must be a signal. Perhaps one they used eras ago built for an emergency. I am unsure why they would build something that could blow off the top of a mountain but, perhaps they had no chance to test it or calibrate it.”

Judena shrugged licking the tip of her thumb to pull apart some pages of the journal.

Vasora leaned back, arms crossed, chewing in a decidedly unconvinced manner. “If it were a beacon of sorts, why would it require that much power to unleash such devastation? They had a number of incredible and far more efficient inventions, I doubt that the light was the intention, but rather a byproduct of… something.” she said, trailing off. “They built the Numedium, for Alkosh’s sake. If they could build a giant steam golem that Tiber Septim used to conquer all of Tamriel due to it being an unstoppable abomination, something as simple as setting off a beacon seems trivial. But I’ll entertain the thought; to what purpose would they need a beacon that powerful?”

Judena reached for her logbook. “One moment.”

Patiently she read through her own thoughts, refreshing herself. “If we had time to travel as far as we could before losing sight of green light I would argue that it is meant to signal the far away reaches where other Dwemer ruins have been discovered. Warn them of enemies, signal others of ceremonial death or passing of a leader.” She gestured up. “I do not think they would build it originally to destroy the immediate surroundings, that may have been a result of our tamperings…” She paused, “Many variables to examine.”

She scritched a new thought down on the page. “I imagine a device to be used as a signal would be brought about if they were in need of it. Their disappearance gives us no clues as to why they disappeared as opposed to being wiped out by war or self destruction. There was no clear decline. If that is one thing we can all agree on is how strange their absence or leaving of this world is.”

“Tampering?” Daro’Vasora repeated incredulously “All Rhea did was shove the cube we found on site in the slot, Judena. Might as well have been a sword to its scabbard. And yes, we know that they mysteriously vanished. That’s why it’s bloody strange that we actually found the remains of one, the ruins should have had traces, remains, anything. Instead we’re left with more questions than answers. Take this for example,” she opened one of the books to her side, quickly skimming through the pages until she found what she was looking for. Turning the book around for the Argonian to see, Daro’Vasora pointed at an image of a ship. “They left images and models of things behind that we never found evidence of existing. They never had a navy, and this ship looks like it’s flying through clouds. There’s a bunch of things, including what I think was our creepy light monster in the ruins,” she turned another couple of pages. A large machine with spider-like legs was pictured, complete with anchoring claws at the feet. “There’s like two dozen things in here that look like ideas they had or concepts, and we’ve never found proof of it. There’s a lot of documentation for ‘what-ifs’ and yet nothing to do with whatever that contraption we activated was.” She sighed, chewing for a bit longer, until a light came on in her eyes. “Unless… they never had a chance to record it.” The realization dawned on her, tying into what Judena was saying. Was there a connection between the mountain and the Dwemer vanishing? It seemed unlikely, but if there were no mentions of the ruins like it were some kind of secret fortress, and there were still entire levels that weren’t fully explored in that place…

“By the Eight, what is that?” A voice called out, breaking the general quiet of the archives. Daro’Vasora looked up to see a bearded Imperial man in robes that denoted him as one of the senior members of the University’s faculty, who was staring dumbfounded out of one of the large windows to the sky above. Daro’Vasora headed over curiously, and followed the man’s gaze. Her eyes widened as her mind struggled to come to terms with what she was seeing, a portrait come to life. She rushed back to the tome, opening it to the page she had shown Judena moments earlier and glanced at the picture of the ship and back at the sky. The design was different, but there was no doubt what she was seeing was certainly real, as if it were pulled from her imagination and brought into being.

It took several moments for her to pry herself from the glass and with a creeping sense of dread, fueled by the sudden shift in atmosphere of those at the university, she hurried back to begin packing her things. “Judena, we need to go.” she stated quickly.

Judena stood, confusion sweeping over her expression. Seeing strange lights sweep past the windows, alarm spreading through the archives.

“I need to go to my chambers first.”

Judena gathered her logbook and their scraps of paper into her arms then took off in a run toward the exit. “This way!”

Running down the hallway dodging past terrified mages and students alike. Heading to the northern towers, running past windows had they stayed to watch they would have surely had clear sight of the sudden and terrifying onslaught of death. Judena raced on not sparring a look behind her, having no doubts Daro’Vasora could keep up. They climbed a wide set of spiral stone stairs arriving to the third level, other mages were rummaging through their own belongings. Judena stepped up to her own door, unlocking it with a key.

“I have to retrieve my memories. Some of my oldest ones are stored at home in Argonia but I keep a few recent ones here.” She said largely to herself, trying to justify their reasons for not leaving the more time spent in the city would surely mean being caught directly in the chaos unfolding in the streets below. Would it be worth it to bunker into the university itself with scores of mages to protect the walls and themselves? The city had survived being sacked, surely they could survive. She snatched her travellers pack and filled it with a decade worth of logbooks. The leaflet journals were all in various stages of age, restoration being performed on them in various degrees. On Judena’s desk was a few more books stacked but an old artefact was in several pieces waiting to be restored and put back together.

Throughout her small room, various things were locked away in small trunks. Stacked against the wall. A hammock was strung up in the corner, below it was a pile of clothing.

“Daro’Vasora! Gather any other valuables you see, break the locks I do not care. Gold, jewellery, anything. I have kept various things for sentiment.”

Judena pulled her desk drawer open lifting a small letterbox stuffed full of unopened letters. Gently placing it on her desk. Her face screwed up. Gently she unlocked the box the letters sprung up over the sides. Judena’s breathing grew shallow, she clutched at the ring hiding underneath her shirt. Her beard slowly expanded.

Normally Daro’Vasora would have protested at anyone else wanting to grab such trivial items. She herself tossed the book of Dwemer creations in her pack given the present situation, but if Judena lost what she’d written down, she’d lose a huge period of her life and memories that she tried harder than anyone to remember because she couldn’t afford to forget. It made the Argonian more sympathetic than most, because Judena was a good person who suffered in a way that she decidedly didn’t deserve. There were a list of assholes that Daro’Vasora had met along the way that could do with some brain-damage, but Judena wasn’t one of them.

“Alright, fine. Just try to hurry. I suspect time isn’t our friend.” she replied, pulling a lockpick out and getting to work on whatever needed unlocking. She wouldn’t touch anything unless Judena asked, spare the money and jewellry. It wasn’t greed or malicious intent that guided the Khajiit’s hands in this situation, but rather they would likely need anything valuable they could afford to get away with and carry to pay for supplies, barter, or even bribe. This was one of those moments where Daro’Vasora knew that history was being made, and history wasn’t often kind to most of the people it declined to write about.

Were the Dwemer back? It seemed impossible, and by Oblivion, it was impossible, but the proof was up there in the sky and the distant screams of those who found out that whoever these invaders were, they weren’t benevolent and as great as Imperial City’s walls and ramparts were, they were damn useless against something that could pass over them with ease. It must have been what the people of Skyrim felt when the dragons came back, another impossible scenario that had very real, world-shaking events. The Khajiit had opened three containers when she turned to look at Judena. “Are you nearly done?” she asked.

Judena shook her head then decidedly stuffed all the letters into the traveler’s pack. She grabbed a few dirty clothes and stuffed them on top of the letters. “Yes I am done, let us make our way to the exit. I suggest we take the exit out to the gardens and scale the walls. Where should we go once we leave the University?”

Judena took one last look about the room then stepped out. The panic was clearly settling as mages fled their chambers and voices carried up the stairs.

Thinking more than five seconds into the future made it sink in for Daro’Vasora. “Zegol. I… need to get home.” she stated suddenly, her teeth grinding together in anxious dread. “You know the grounds better than I do, just lead the way.”



Curious Curios....

The city hadn’t been this chaotic and terrified since the Great War. Zegol looked out of the checkered glass windows at the crowds rushing by, and wincing when some were knocked over and trampled. Ships had descended from the skies and brief glimpses of armoured figures, as well as damned Dwemer contraptions rolling by and striking at people with grim clockwork efficiency. He’d been an accomplished adventurer in his time, and he’d survived a number of scraps with Dwemer toys to know their lethality. A pair of local boys who had come by his shop often, usually just to marvel at his curios, were trapped in the shop with him. All the better; they would be safe with him. They dutifully listened to his orders to help barricade the door and windows, and he gave them a couple of daggers for defense. It would be next to useless in untrained hands, but youth often felt courage if they were shown even a bit of trust.

And what wasn’t trustworthy about the big, strong Orsimer in glass armour and a battleaxe as tall as he was? Zegol hadn’t worn his adventuring gear in nearly a decade as Daro’Vasora began to take over for most of his fieldwork, as he thought fondly on the young Khajiit who came to him as a favour called in. He smiled at the thought of the mischievous and far too clever young protege he’d acquired and grown to love like a niece, or even a daughter. He was too old to start a family, the call to adventure had been too strong to think of doing something as trivial as settling down, but it had always been a gap in his heart, his soul; it was one that Daro’Vasora had filled. She wasn’t of his blood and she kept in correspondence with her family down in Leyawiin, but he knew that he was as much of family to her as she was to him. He spoke softly, barely a breath leaving his throat. “Stendar, keep her safe.” Zegol wasn’t much of a praying man, so he hoped it would suffice. Hopefully she’d met up with her adventuring friends and were keeping one another safe. He’d have to believe that, but for now, it was the matter of two frightened boys that looked up to him with as much awe and wonder as people used to look at the Hero of Kvatch’s statue in Bruma. He’d prove their devotion well-placed, although he hoped it wouldn’t come to it.

The streets quieted down somewhat, and soon there was a hammering against the door, frantic cries to be let in that were cut short with the distinct sound of bolt cracking against the emerald coloured oak. Zegol’s grip tightened on the axe, its blade sharp enough to shave with. Voices of a language he could not recognize were heard next, and soon a flurry of blades and blunt weaponry were smashing against the door, it valiantly but futility resisting the mechanical onslaught of the Dwemer spheres. Soon it gave way and entry was granted. Five navy-blue cloaked figures in splendidly crafted dwemer armour atop their colourful garments poured in, strange cannons in hand and poleaxes. The Dwemer spheres waited outside as a rearguard, crossbows and cannons roaring as they shot at any who came into sight.

Two innocent lives depended on what Zegol did here now, his breath was heavy, a surge of battle rage he had not felt in so many years, making him feel alive in a way he’d long forgotten. Words abandoned him, and instead a fierce cry escaped his throat and he charged, swinging his weapon around as if he were 20 years younger.

The Dwemer calmly raised their weapons.



Hours later…

The streets had grown to be deathly quiet, often in the literal sense of the word. The Market District was filled with the dead, and any resistance of the local Legionnaires had been snuffed out. Daro’Vasora and Judena had made their way across the city as carefully and quietly as they could, and for all of their efforts to avoid being spotted, they had still been shot at, and in one particularly tense moment concealed themselves amongst bodies to evade the interest of passing Dwemer patrols. It was them, alright; they fit the profile, their weapons and armour were like something out of the books and ruins, only with arguably centuries more refinement, and their skin was pale, almost Imperial by the way of Dunmer in tone with elaborately knotted and trimmed beards that give them a much more ancient and ordered appearance than the Nords and their braids. By the time the duo had reached the homestretch, the sounds of fighting had reduced to clean-up work, and the attackers didn’t seem as hyper vigilant, instead beginning to establish chokepoints and defenses. At this point, they were rounding survivors up as prisoners, marching them in long columns to who-knows-where.

They had managed to make it to the street, which was empty, but a lot of doors were bashed in. They moved carefully, their hearts pounding intensely as they worried about peering into the windows and seeing something peer back at them. Daro’Vasora momentarily forgot her own personal safety when the came in sight of Curious Curios; the door was destroyed. She sprinted, entering the door without a care for her safety.

“Wait! Daro’Vasora!” Judena called after her picking up her pace. Entering the shop shortly after her.

There had been a fight here, shelves were toppled and priceless artifacts were smashed across the floor. Blood stained the wood beneath their feet, and the evidence of the attackers’ brutality was quickly evident. A young Imperial boy, no older than 12, had been impaled on the wall and now slumped against the floor, a trail of his blood marking his slide down to his final resting place. Another had been shot twice and lay feet from the one that was presumably his brother who had tried to guard his younger sibling. A lump formed in the Khajiit’s throat. She knew those kids; they had always been a pest to her, but now…

Her mouth was covered by her hands in shock and horror as a sight of green glass caught her eye. Near the base of the stairs lay a prone figure, his wonderful and beautiful glass armour crumpled uselessly and chunks of it had been ripped apart. “Zegol!” Daro’Vasora cried, rushing over to her mentor, her friend… she struggled to turn him over to face upright, his eyes were as glassy as the suit he wore as he stared lifelessly to the roof, a round hole bored into his forehead. His arm was missing, as was his axe, and across his torso were puncture wounds that his armour had been powerless to stop. She cradled him in her lap, her sobs coming freely and unrestrained as she placed her forehead against his, her tears washing away blood.

From the doorway, Judena checked over her shoulder then slowly came up behind her young friend crouching down beside her. “Oh...Oh no.” She whispered, her eyes casted away to the bodies of the young boys. “Such violence…”

The shop was destroyed, the Dwemer slaughtered them all. She allowed Daro’Vasora her moment of grief. She pushed up from where she crouched, picking up the body of the boy and laying him across the counter. She closed his eyes, Judena did the same for the other boy laying them side by side. Her heart twisted, the very real results happening all over the city as they took a few moments.

“We cannot linger.” She said quietly, “We need to find our way out of the city or there will be no one alive to remember them.”

“Daro’Vasora.” She crouched down beside her again, a hand on her shaking shoulder, “I am so sorry, I truly wish we had more time to grieve.”

It was hard to break from the agony she felt, but Judena’s touch helped bring Daro’Vasora back. She ran her fingers across Zegol’s brow, closing his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” she whispered to him, kissing him on the brow and setting him down. “He deserves a burial, not to be left out like this.”

“He deserves the best, burial is not. . . realistic.” Judena said gently, “We can wrap him in a cloth and lay him to rest on his bed.” She suggested.

Daro’Vasora nodded, wiped her eyes, and got to work. Heading upstairs to her bedchamber, she stripped it up the sheets and brought it downstairs, quickly and deliberately forming Zegol’s makeshift burial shroud. There wasn’t time to strip him of his armour, and he wouldn’t have wanted to, she was certain. There was still that stubborn Orcish pride that he did so well to keep buried but she knew was always there, beneath his pleasant and friendly disposition. She took pride in him dying like a warrior, not being slaughtered like so many had been this day. She faltered at times, grief still consuming her, but she had to carry on. She couldn’t be caught and suffer the same fate, and Judena needed her. Her family needed her.

The morbid task completed, thankfully with her Argonian companion’s steadfast hands and gentle disposition, Daro’Vasora disappeared upstairs and began to grab her gear that she’d always had laid out in anticipation of the next big adventure. She just hadn’t expected it being so soon. Soon, she was heading downstairs with a full pack in her leather armour and pouches filled with gear. “Take anything you need from the shop. Better we use it than those bastards.” she said, noticing something immediately; all of the soul gems were gone.

It was something that was going to bother her for some time, but she couldn’t figure out why. Heading to Zegol’s room, she found some coin, a copy of his memoirs and an assortment of personal belongings, and perhaps most pressingly, a handful of invisibility potions. They’d at least help them get out of the city before it became totally locked down. Within seven minutes, Daro’Vasora was ready.

“Let’s go.” she said, leaving a medallion in Zegol’s hand that she momentarily uncovered. It was the one she had worn the day she arrived, trying her best to look like wealthy city-folk as well as the relatively run-down and boorish Leyawiin court could manage. “We’ll meet again, in the Sands Beyond the Stars. I promise.” she said as a farewell before rejoining Judena. She offered her one of the potions.

“Thank you, for being here.” she said softly, pulling the cork free.

“I believe I have you to thank, my friend.” Judena had found herself among the rubble some glass jars, unbroken. She trekked into the pantry to fill them with salt. “I am always quite terrified to be alone for long periods of time. I trust you would not lead me astray, as you imagine that is a very small handful of people.”

Stowing away the jar into her pack, nestling it among her letters. She popped the cork off of her potion as well, “Let us depart.”
In Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay

Reaching for my resistance


Time: A Few Hours Later - Day of the Satellite Attack
Location: Sherman Square, Lost Haven

Inevitably Charlie ran out of steam, spending the majority of her way home - running. Still forcing herself to take long detours and doubling back. As much as she itched to get home she was in no way going to risk leading the Witchfinder-General to her family.

She had the radio turned up loud enough to catch all news regarding the newest attacks. Deciding she wanted to take a short cut through Sherman Square back to the east side of the city, having left through the financial district. Charlie forced herself to stop at a convenient store to grab something to drink and a small bag of chips. The clerk hardly paid any attention to her, eyes glued on the tv.

Mind blank with dread, her feet took her to the steps of the Museum of Supers. She sat on the steps leading up to the museum, it was closed hours ago. Some pigeons joined her while she people watched the scarce person walking by. The police station a few blocks away was overflowing with vehicles as off duty cops came pouring into work on-call to prepare for an attack from the Hounds of Humanity.

Charlie shuffled through her chips, chewing mechanically. Eating with one hand and changing the salty snack into various elements in the other hand. She grabbed her phone checking the time. She wanted to call Carrie, she wanted to call her mom, anyone just to hear their voice. She wrapped her arms around her legs, chin resting on her knees. And say what to them? That they were all doomed, Lost Haven was the obvious next target. Their home would be reduced to rubble and ash.

Tears started to dribble down her cheeks.

Was there really nothing she could do? She felt like she was drowning in the deep end of a pool with no hope of her toes touching bottom.

The sudden appearance of Icon caught her off guard he touched down in the middle of Sherman Square, easily recognizable. She stood up with a start, the sound of a jet engine approaching came down from the sky next as Iron Knight made his appearance as well. Charlie’s jaw dropped.

He survived!

Radiance was the next to arrive, iconically dressed in her costume. The new face, Slipstream zipped into view within the blink of an eye. Lyger arrived by motorcycle, joining them as well. Charlie felt her heart pick up at the sight of all the metahumans, gathering as she assumed with the latest attack from the Hounds. They were really doing something! She searched for White Witch, someone - anyone from the magic community standing up with the heroes.

It dawned on her then as she stood there slack jawed. There was no one there to stand up for her own, for the witches like Carrie and Maddi nor the creatures like Berry. She turned to look up at the Museum of Supers - a standing testament to their good deeds and history. She glanced back down to her staff. Lost Haven was their home as much as it was the metahumans, neither side were without their flaws. She thought of Pantheon and Terra Firma, the university.

Her family had to continue with or without her. Everything her Gramps built in Lost Haven was hanging on a thread. All of their own history too.

Charlie had a choice, she could have walked away and joined her family in packing their things to evacuate the city. But she decided then, she couldn’t live with herself if she walked away now. The Witchfinder General would be knocked out of the game if she helped pull the plug on their entire organization.

She quickly stuffed the bag of chips into her pocket, drained the last of the bottle of water she had. Swiping her sleeve under her nose she approached the group of supers, back straight and mask up. As she approached the heroes paid little attention to her, their own conversations taking precedence than a random civilian.

“H-hey.”

She cleared her throat.

“Hey!” Still no response. “For fuckssakes.”

She slammed the butt of her staff into the ground kicking up dust all around them.

Some of them coughed, others looked irritated at her instance.

Green eyes hard as stone, she began. “You don’t know me. There isn’t a single person here to represent the magic folk getting terrorized by the Hounds of Humanity the same as you guys. My name is the Alchemyst.”

She fished the chip out of back pocket, steam rolling into her next thought. “I was at the university the day it was attacked, I destroyed those towers. This is the bit of technology I fished out that they used to hurt metahumans with - a special sound frequency. Probably the same shit we’re going to run into again. If you want to dismantle that satellite you’re gonna to have to do it properly.”

“I’m the woman for the job. I have as much at stake, Lost Haven is my home. And. . .” She paused looking each hero in the eye, “I’m going to help whether you like it or not.”

In Create-a-Hero: High School Edition! → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
In Create-a-Hero: High School Edition! → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Okay Indy, you got it. Odette will be the first to be converted and then Charlie. Lmao the only time their paths come even close to crossing is in the hallways of a high school in a fictional universe, cackles.
In Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


Time: Evening - Day of the Satellite Attack
Location: Chinatown, Lost Haven

Charlie parted ways with Maddi taking the long way home. As she had promised, she was safely assuming there’d be someone watching her or trying to follow. Her mask and hood stayed firmly in place.

It worked out at least, it gave her plenty of time to think and reflect. She patted her ribs again, checking if they were still broken. The unbelievable events from the start then end of the day were almost too much. Charlie walked by small shops, big stretches of department stores, traffic at her side. Slowly a frown began to form underneath her mask. Occasionally looking over her shoulder at the traffic and anyone paying specifically to her. Her next right was down an alley. It was slowly starting to sink in just how deep she was involved in everything now. It was one thing to defend yourself against an attack but to go on the offensive was another. Willingly putting herself on their radar. A lump began to form in her chest, her palms became clammy.

Avoiding a few dumpsters she stopped in her tracks at the sight of a stray cat perched above on an fire escape platform. She squinted up at it, it’s silhouette was off. She hesitated looking behind her then back up at it. Slowly she stepped below it, the cat’s eyes never left her as she passed. The heavy eyes were still felt even as she exited the alleyway. Unease creeping up the nape of her neck. Pausing at the exit she pulled her radio free hooking it to her hip. Music began to quietly play through a bit of static. Charlie adjusted the attena a bit to clear it up.

Through the dark of the alley she couldn’t see the cat anymore, she moved on hoping to leave it behind. She began to wonder how much her Gramps knew of others in Lost Haven’s magic community. Puck referenced his work with networking with other alchemists here in the city. Had he visited The Red Devil? How would he react knowing Puck had healed her, that she met him personally?

More importantly how would her mother, Jules feel about standing off with the Witchfinder General.

“Are you insane? Do you have a death wish? What were you thinking!”

Charlie’s answer instantly popped in her mind.

“Did you know that alchemical formulae share basic structure with the geometric circles used by high magicians of the time?”

“Really? I was a chemistry major for about four weeks at a university in Georgia.”

“Those bastards won’t keep getting away with this, we’ll make sure of that!”

“That was . . . exhilarating!”

“The Witchfinder won’t be coasting on waxy wings for much longer.”


Charlie smiled holding her staff close, she came to a slow stop. The lump began to loosen, helping Maddi was reason enough. She continued to walk flapping her hand in front of her face trying to cool off her cheeks. Her mind came back to the unease once again, someone or something was watching her still. She turned looking over her shoulder, there were a couple vehicles in the back alley parked but saw no movement. She turned down the radio some more then carried on back to the main street, picking up her pace.

In the relative safety of the street and surrounded by people. She checked again then carried on. Behind her a black escalade crept out of the alleyway she was in - entering traffic.

She walked to the end of the block dodging people, entering through a department store she looked hilariously out of place in her old clothing, some sales associates immediately gave her dirty looks.

“Just passing through.” She mumbled, preoccupied.

“Take your gross cat with you!” One of them hissed at her.

“My what?”

He pointed at the disfigured animal sitting patiently at the entrance, eyes on Charlie. Her breath caught. “That sure as shit isn’t my cat.” She took long quick strides away ignoring the sales associates calls for security. Some mall security cops blocked her path at the exit. She began to run and vaulted over them using her staff.

“H-Hey!” One of them shouted.

“Sorry, not sorry!” She said over her shoulder sprinting through the doors on the opposite end coming out to a new street. She sprinted away to the otherside of the block taking refuge once again in an alley, she didn’t stop moving.

“Fuck this bullshit cat and bullshit Hounds.” She said to herself, making it to the other side of the alleyway to another back alley. No vehicles and it was deserted. Slowly stepping out she decided to take another right and head down away from the street. Hoping to cross some residential backyards incase she needed to call for help or find some shelter. Above on the rooftops the very same cat stalked behind her.

The dreadful unease crept up again but the source was nowhere to be seen. Charlie began to fast walk looking in every direction for that damned cat. She quickly approached the end of the back alley, the ripe smell of a butcher’s shop shipping dock down a bit of a ramp of pavement backing into the two storey shop. She clicked on her flashlight to get a better look of the back end of it. Would doubling back throw off her creepy cat pursuer? Another click the light disappeared.

Headlights suddenly flooded behind her, casting her shadow long. She turned her heart racing, shielding her eyes to see a black escalade several feet away. It sped forward with a squeal of tires, she dashed down the ramp to the shipping dock. Nearly crashing into the door she tugged on it, naturally it was locked. It was made of steel. She tore a hole for herself to squeeze through the rings of bullets against the door sent her scrambling away. She headed straight for the walk-in freezer past plastic sheets. Gunshots followed her.

She sidled between hanging aging carcuses, the smell of meat was potent and surrounded her. Her quick breath came out in frosty puffs. She headed straight for the exit of the freezer. Meeting another locked door, she promised herself she’d return to fix them if she survived. Breaking through the hiss of warm air rushing in, putting her body weight into it scrambling to the otherside and slamming the heavy door shut sealing it behind her. Buying herself a few seconds. Charlie tried to think of a plan of some sort knowing this was nowhere to stay. She saw the security camera and the flashing red light of the motion detector now that she was shopside. Dragging the sleeve of her shirt below her nose.

Charlie dashed for the shopfront window smashing it with the butt of her staff, the alarms began to blare. She ran for the emergency exit pushing herself up the set of stairs to the roof. Trying to force herself into a unpredictable path for the Hounds, her instincts screamed for her to take the path of least resistance to run as hard as she could to safety. Making her way up a couple set of stairs she pushed onto the roof. Looking for more escape options, she peered up to the building next over, standing a storey taller than the one she was on. She locked then sealed the door behind her.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” She swore stepping up to the ledge, bending down at the knee, contemplating a ladder whether to go up or down. Basic concrete and tarmac surrounded her, enough to make a short ladder up then make another over to the otherside to really throw them off. She began scribbling against the ledge with a sharpie. Sirens weren’t coming either, chatter over her little radio was ignored. She finished her equation in a straight line a ladder shot up made of concrete eating up the materials of the building coming up to 8 feet. Steadying it as she lowered it to the building.

The Hounds began pounding at the door, she began to climb up not wasting time. About two thirds of the way up the Hounds burst through the door.

“There she is! Wound her!” They shouted.

Charlie flinched at the gunshots, panic gripping her heart sending it into overtime. She climbed at the last few rungs she launched herself over the ledge of the building slapping her hand against the makeshift ladder making it crumble before they decided to try and follow her. She rolled far away from the ledge before she stood up and ran to the opposite end about to start the ladder again. Stopping she looked over her shoulder at the cat - glaring fear and hatred. Ugly, undead, obviously the results of necromancy.

She pointed with her staff at the cat, “Abraxus. Was starting to wonder when I’d see your undead bullshit again.”

The cat sat silently, tail crooked moving back and forth. Charlie stared hard back at it. Then pushed off from the ledge swinging her staff low to launch it off the roof, the cat hissed rearing back on it’s hind legs being caught under the belly. Charlie tossed it over the ledge of the building. Completely doubtful that killed it.

She made another ladder scaling down the opposite side of the building, then found her way down back to the street. She ran for several blocks, neither the cat nor the car was in sight. She never paused. She was deep in the financial district, the downtown traffic had dwindled considerably but never truly left. She had run at full speed for a few blocks but eventually slowed to a quick paced jog. When she finally stopped she was out of breath, steadying her arms on her knees. Leaning against a lamp post.

Across the street several people had gathered outside of a newspaper stand watching a little tv. Charlie peered then wiping her brow she walked over to see what the commotion was about. The news was showing images of cellphone footage. Grainy but clear enough, light washed out the picture entirely. The person behind the cellphone fell to the ground, eventually righting themselves to focus on the utter destruction. In the corner there was a message replaying from The Hounds of Humanity with the news anchor rendered speechless. Charlie starred, eyes wide. Horrified.

This was the radar she was on now. Hollowed out she stepped away then turned her eyes up to the sky, wondering vainly what satellite now was aiming it’s sights on Lost Haven.

What bright light would take everything away.

She ran home.
In Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay




Time: Evening - Two Days prior to the Satellite Attack
Location:Smithy’s Grocery Store, Las Vegas

The grocery store was a disaster. Civilian bodies and Hounds littered everywhere. Captain Dahl approached the remaining specialists she had. Each of them in turn described the witches that had used a portal to slip away. Assumingly they thought they had them trapped. Dahl had ordered to wait out the distracting tricks, to conserve their strength when the targets had exhausted themselves.

She anticipated the chaotic defenses, the wild magic, what she did not plan for was a portal. Now she was anticipating her ass to be chewed out by the General. Begrudgingly, she sent the report of failure, the details they gathered of their targets from the encounter. Dahl guessed the blue haired witch was the Faerie Mistress, the very same that had made her presence known after the attack on Pixy Stix. Backed by a massive golem construct, Fey, a pair of metas, a witch, a vampire, and werewolves. They would need to investigate further to uncover more about her allies. Dahl rubbed her temples, so many undesirables just slipped right from her grasp. All the more of a pain to deal with when together.

Her cell phone began to vibrate. The Hounds before her all shared a look then cleared away for her privacy.

“Captain Dahl,” the General greeted her, voice gruff and full of paternal displeasure.

“Forgive me for the intrusion, but there appears to be a mistake with your recent report. If I recall, and do correct me if I’m wrong, you and your men were stationed outside a grocery store in Vegas on an anonymous tip regarding a highly dangerous witch, who also happened to be in the company of: a second witch, three werewolves, a vampire, two metahumans, a magical construct, and a small army of faery creatures?”

The General let out a hefty sigh, his voice raising with each sentence until it became a thunderous roar.

“This would have been your most successful mission yet, Captain. But not only did you fail to eliminate the witch you had been sent to take down, you allowed EIGHT other abominations to waltz out of that store, lost well over half of your unit, and wasted your entire stock of blessed weapons. Is that correct?”

Captain Dahl flinched away from the receiver, cautiously bringing it back. “Sir, if I could explain. The Faerie Mistress was among them, the sorceress that declared herself over the smoking rubble of Pixy Stix. She can open portals, portals sir. We had them entirely surrounded. Before some of my men died they reported what they saw her do.” Dahl expressed her frustration, “Sir, I will hunt them down if given the chance.”

“No,” the General replied, “That won’t be necessary.”

He went quiet for several moments, audibly pacing around his quarters.

“Dahl,” he began with a sigh. “You must always be aware of the enemy and their tricks, must stay one step ahead. Your team knew this Faery Mistress was active in the area, yet you did not anticipate that she might have been involved. You had eyes on the target for several minutes before acting, yet you were so focused on the kill that you failed to account for non physical exits and escapes. Your first team was utterly destroyed, yet you sent in the second without considering the witches’ abilities, how they reportedly blinded your men with their vile tricks, took their balance, interfered with their aim . . . really did you THINK at all during this operation?”

“You are, or were, among my best, Captain Dahl, because of that little gift you possess that grants you your edge. And yet, it seems to have failed us both.”

“Sir, I still am.” She said, taking her chances to make her pitch. “A singular failure, albeit a rather large one. Allow me at the very least, a chance to redeem myself, Sir. I still maintain my gifts and…”

“Afterall isn’t it well within my humanity to rise above the filth to truly triumph? Lose the battle, win the war.” She said crushing some bone against her heel, steely expression.

The line went silent for several minutes, leaving Dahl to wonder if the General had left in a rage, or was simply deep in thought.

“Very well,” his gruff voice boomed over the line, “I suppose I’m not so heartless that I can’t let you make it up to me. I have a few assignments lined up, none of them suitable to your particular talents, however. I have a potential new informant here in Maine that may prove useful to our operation. She’s flighty and I don’t trust a word she says, but information is information.”

“I’ll call you when the time is right, Captain. In the meantime, rest. Steel yourself for what’s to come. We cannot lose another battle lest we give the enemy more ground. Understood?”

“Understood, sir. We will return to the east coast. I would like front row seats to the next leg in our plans.” She said, a wicked grin forming. “Happy hunting, General.”

In The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Three Days Prior to the Dwemer Invasion...
@Leidenschaft & @Greenie & @DearTrickster


While this was a city that was well heard of, the truth was that Meg had never visited Cyrodiil before the expedition, and certainly not the Imperial City ever before it in her life. In fact, even though her father was born here, any knowledge she had was hearsay from others rather than words from him. He'd always considered Riften his home and she supposed in a way that made sense; she'd bet a couple of septims that even if he decided to come back here again, he'd hardly recognize the place. If cities could change in less than a few years, then the thirty plus years since he had been there would probably shock him.

Of course Meg didn't even have faint memories of a place like this, and while it was somewhat awe inspiring, the proud Nord in her was quick to remind her that Skyrim had much more beautiful and breathtaking spots. That aside, she was much aware of the fact that she could easily get lost in such a big city. When Rhea had bade them farewell after asking them to return in three days, the Nord woman was a little bemused, wondering what she should do. She was certain there were probably more inns and taverns that she could could, but she didn't really wish to rest or eat at the moment.

She hadn't moved too far from where Rhea had left them, coming to a stop at the side of a busy street, seemingly lost in thought, though with enough sense to stay out of anyone's way. It just felt very strange, suddenly being alone and by herself. Not just strange... it felt uncomfortable. Maybe even incomplete. Meg bit her inner lip as her hand move up, grasping the amulet of Mara that she wore hidden under her tunic. It comforted her slightly, though she still felt a little hollow inside.

It wasn’t five steps inside the Imperial City that Latro remembered why he liked it best when he was on the road. The bustling crowds choked the avenues shut almost and Latro felt himself slip into a steady aura of unease at the onslaught of completely unknown and uncaring people shuffling past him. He ducked out of the crowd as quickly as he could, putting a hand to the wall to center himself and perhaps find the strength to wade through the roiling human rivers once more to some place more quiet, like a small tavern or an inn. Out of the corner of his eye, a very much needed familiar face was alone, absent-mindedly fiddling with something around her neck. He stepped up to her, showing a palm in greeting and a soft smile, “How do you fare?”

Broken out of her thoughts, Meg looked up, letting her hand fall loosely to her side. Recognizing Latro, she smiled a little more in relief than she'd want to show. "I wanna say I'm doin' good but..." She shrugged a shoulder before motioning in general at the city with her hand. "I've no idea where to start lookin' or walkin' ‘round here." A sheepish laugh escaped her before she continued. "Whiterun never seemed so intimidating, I can tell you that much." It seemed a silly thing to admit, but she hoped maybe the bard would understand what she was feeling.

Latro shared in the laugh, somewhat relieved to find someone just as uncomfortable with the crowds as he was, “Being well-traveled has naught to do with loving everywhere you’ve been.” Latro frowned at the crowds, “Even Daggerfall is not as busy as this.”

While Judena felt she was at home. Left to their own devices for a few days had immediately pulled on the want to return to the Arcane University. The city itself was her home away from home for many years while studying as an apprentice under the watchful eyes of her companions and ex-wife. Returning frequently to barter, share knowledge and recuperate. Others had split off with plans of their own but Judena hoped for some company, having grown used to having them as spotters. Helping others forage for food, always paired up with no risk of wandering off alone. She rather liked having that safety net of sharper minds around.

Latro and Meg were out of sorts, looking the part of confused and lost already at the entrance. They would suitably need a guide. Judena waved, a head taller above the crowd. About to call out she stopped short, flipping through her logbook to ensure she had their names correct. In the past days travelling she slowly began to remember their names one by one with more reliability. Catching herself when it sounded off.

“My friends…” She read, “Latro, Meg!” Judena excused herself through the crowd, smiling all the while. “By chance, I am hoping for some company while I make my way to the Arcane University. Would you both like to join me?”

Meg had just been about to speak when she heard the familiar voice of Judena. This caused her to smile yet again; she quite liked the friendly argonian during their misadventure, and it was nice to see yet another friendly face.

"Sounds like a treat to me," she replied, trying not to sound too eager. "Arcane University... I guess that means you're familiar with the city!" That would be a relief.

Judena hummed happily, “Yes! I was once an apprentice studying here in the city, I know it as well as I would my own hands. What of you Latro?”

“I’ve never been,” Latro smiled, “I’m looking forward to experiencing the city now that I’m with some friendly faces at last.”

“Oh excellent, then please - follow me.” Judena said beckoning them, she began to walk skirting along side the crowd. Turning over her shoulder to speak to her young friends, “Even if we were separated I am easy to spot. I am sometimes quite pleased with how easy I am to find but I have found sneaking to be difficult for that very reason. To be small and light on one’s feet is a wonderful skill.”

She turned back to observe the city as they walked through Talos Plaza, observing the masonry work, open business fronts and residential lots.

“There are several places in the Imperial City that are worth visiting while we are here, the Arcane University is definitely one. While the Mages Guild has not existed for a few centuries, mages from all over Tameriel network, meet and study within its magnificent walls to this day. It acts as a safe haven and sanctuary instead of an institution. I do enjoy the atmosphere at the College of Winterhold as it stands, but the Arcane University holds a dear place in my heart.” She said then sighed with content. “I simply cannot express how excited I am to return. I have spent the past few years in Skyrim. Have you two ever ventured outside of the province before?”

"Not me," Meg replied with a shake off her head. She seemed much more at ease now that both Judena and Latro were there alongside her. Strange how she had always been comfortable by herself when in the wilderness, but in a place as grand as this, bustling with life, being by herself seemed daunting. "I always roamed about Skyrim... I've been a traveller since I was a youngin, but never past the border. This-" she once again motioned with her hands towards the city in general "-is all new to me." She let out a breath before letting herself grin a little. "I'm pretty adaptable though, I'm sure I'll get used to here quick enough." Hopefully

“I’ve gallivanted about the North and West, mostly.” Latro said, eyes going about the crowds and architecture much more at ease now that Meg and Judena were with him. He’d never liked huge metropolises and Daggerfall was the largest city he’d been to until now, “I’m from Camlorn in High Rock, a small but peaceful place, but I’ve wandered about Tamriel for some years now, anywhere from Stros M’kai to Nibenay, but not this far south. I always thought the paintings and writings of the White-Gold city were playing it up, but now I can see even those left some things to the imagination.”

“Now that I’ve experienced this kind of city, Daggerfall seems a hamlet in comparison. Have you ever been, Judena?” Latro asked.

She replied brightly, “I can imagine I have, I just cannot remember at the present moment. I am sure I have it written down somewhere in this past year’s logbook. I make a habit of exploring historic or big landmarks in any of the provinces.”

“Pardon me, kind sir.” She sidled out of the way of someone carrying a large crate over their shoulder. “I am honoured to be your guide today for your first time to the city. The metropolis reminds me of the bustling diversity in my home of Soulrest, Argonia. The port towns are generally safe for travellers to explore but the wilds beyond the city are very dangerous, my young friends. If you ever find yourself there, of course. I trust the pair of you have sense enough not to try something so foolish.”

“Probably,” Meg chimed in with an inward laugh. “I like my livin’ state of being.” She was curious though… how different were the wilds beyond the city compared to the North? Surely it couldn’t be too dangerous?

They rounded a corner and finally had full view of the White-Gold tower, she gestured with her spear, “If you are ever lost in the city with nowhere to turn to, look to the tower. It is the center of the city.” Taking a moment to take in it’s sight again as she had done on their travels from Jerell Mountain. The biggest landmark for miles and miles to see. “Apologies, what was the question again?”

For a moment Meg was confused by the question about the question, and it quite clearly showed on her face as she looked away from the huge White-Gold tower and instead set her eyes on Judena. “Wait… oh, you mean the question Latro asked? But… you already replied him, remember?” It then clicked to her that this was probably more of the Argonian’s poor memory rearing its head, so she decided to elaborate a little. “He asked if you’d been to Daggerfall, and you replied that you might’ve but can’t remember.”

Judena bobbed her head in understanding, “Ah yes, thank you. It is so easy to be distracted by the sights of the city. Very good.” She pulled out her logbook even while they walked she scratched something into the pages, looking up to the sun and telling the time.

"You sure do lotsa writin'," Meg noted, half watching the path and more intrigued by the argobian's note taking. "I s'pose that's part of what they teach you in magic school's, eh?" She couldn't help but think of her own rather messy and faulty penmanship. "My Pa taught me some but it was harder to learn than other stuff." She chuckled sheepishly, thinking of her days in Riften, when her mind was more on learning to pick locks than the meagre time her father attempted to teach her to read and write.

Judena looked to Meg, “My mother and father taught us, my siblings and I - our words and numbers. Jel, then the common language of men and mer.” She finished a bullet point. “I do not mean to impose or assume you do not have plans or business, if you are interested Meg, you are free to spend your time in the city at the University. There I can help you brush up on your literacy skills. Perhaps with practice writing a letter?” Judena offered, sensing some opportunity to teach. Literacy was the way to knowledge and empowerment. Accidents and damaged memory couldn’t take it away from Judena.

Surprised by the offer yet pleased as well, Meg gave Judena a decisive nod. “Honestly, that sounds pretty great, thanks for the offer. I could do with some practice…” Her voice trailed as she thought of how long it had been since she'd written to her father. Would he be pleased or indifferent that she was all the way in Imperial City? “And aye, there are some letters I could do with sendin’.”

Judena nodded enthusiastically.

They arrived to the University, spending time exploring the grounds Judena as their guide. Jude spoke of it’s history, her time studying with her friends. Promising again to Meg she’d have time to brush up on her writing skills. When Latro and Meg decided to move on Judena armed them with quickly drawn maps of the city, making note of various areas of the city they should explore or stay away from. In truth Judena was glad to have some time to see to her own affairs, she was sure she’d see them again before the dawn of the third day.
In Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG Season 2- New Horizons (Closed) → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


Time: Evening - Current Day
Location: Hoover Dam - Las Vegas

The scrape of a high heel against concrete signaled Odette’s arrival through the portal. Bach looped his arm around her waist supporting her, they limped to the side of the portal still within arm’s reach of it to close it. Mandate ducked through next a clear frown over her smooth features, she radiated lingering rage. Bach went to work immediately scattering some seeds, blooming from the seedlings was a soft chair of leaves. He settled Odette upright, she tried to breathe through her nose, teeth gritting. Struggling to not touch her wound. Bach rifled through her purse for the first aid kit. Fey surrounded them, quietly watching The Ambassador.

Shortly within another minute White Witch reached through, looking visibly pale and weakened. Holt supported her in a similar fashion. After another minute the wolf-boy was tossed through the portal next followed by the two other werewolves following behind him. The giant twins came next and the vampire brought up the rear. Mandate closed the door and with it the portal disappeared.

Bach’s brow was furrowed, he spoke quietly to her in French. He found the kit, using gloves he unwrapped some sterile tweezers. Odette stared at them, knowing as well as he magic wasn’t going to be able to pull out the blessed silver buried in her shoulder.

With her opposite hand she gripped his shoulder, fabric balling in her fist. “Get it out.” She said hoarsely. He nodded.

“This is going to be painful.” He ripped the shoulder of her shirt open exposing her shoulder completely.

He gripped the tweezers firmly between his forefinger and thumb then began to dig. Odette threw her head back with a rare unconcealed grunt. Her grip tightened on Bach’s shirt. He maneuvered the tweezers around in the wound picking out pieces of the bullet dropping them in a small empty pill bottle. Odette’s legs twisted, Bach used his free arm to keep her still as he worked. Finally after two more pieces were removed he removed the largest of the remaining fragments. Bach put away the tweezers laying a gentle hand against her shoulder, he spoke a spell to test if it was all removed. The minor pain relief began to numb the area with success. Odette took a deep breath in.

“The irony is not lost on you, My Lady.” He commented.

“No, it certainly is not. I’d wager removing a bullet from the abdomen is far more painful.” She replied quietly. “Bandage me for now and I can wait until Vienna can help.”

Bach nodded, “Yes, My Lady.”

Odette reached for the pill bottle holding it up to see it. She sensed the blessings from the fragments, bloody as they were. “We’ll keep these to study.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

Odette glanced around at the group, licking their wounds metaphorically and literally. She addressed them, “If there are any lingering doubts of our alliance please keep your escape and lives tonight as a reminder of who you are to thank. I would go so far as to say you now all owe me a favour.” She said pushing off the chair a little slowly, a confident grin. It fell apart into leaves similar to the ones on Bach’s head. She eased a small light jacket from her purse, Bach helped her put it on. “The Fair Folk we lost tonight will be honoured, my friends remaining will return with me to Paris.”

She gestured to the Fey hiding in the shadows. “Dover Twins, wolf twins, wolf boy and vampire girl. If any harm is to come to White Witch while we are apart, you all will expressly be blamed then face certain consequences from me.” Her icy glare went from one to the next getting mixed reactions of fear, defiance and hatred. She approached the White Witch, visibly she struggled against the fatigue. She really had no stamina. Odette found it difficult to see the potential lying within her. Skilled but still lacking.

“The blessed silver will pass with purification, Holt will surely help you.” She reached into her purse pulling free a white smartphone, with a small witch hat charm. “Use this phone to contact me, do not call to pester me with questions. Reserve them for your contract holder, Puck.”

She turned walking back to Mandate and Bach. “Come, we are returning home.”

Odette smoothed her hand over Mandate’s dented chest, “We will see to your ‘injuries’ as well, my dear.” She smiled up at the golem, patting her reassuringly. Noting her apparent worry. “You did well today, my dear friend.”

The Ambassador summoned a new portal with some difficulty, the pain still present in her shoulder but tolerable to concentrate. The Fey flowed through the portal once again, Mandate stood guard as the last to cross. The portal door disappeared in a wink, leaving the small group to relax in the seemingly safe haven of the Hoover Dam. While grappling with what it truly meant to owe The Ambassador of the Fair Folk a favour.
In Mass Effect Andromeda: Frontier → 6 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
I Couldn’t Think of a Title Vol. 2

Ass-ault

@Stormflyx - @DJAtomika- @Captain Jenno - @DearTrickster - @Rtron



“Move out!”

Lieutenant Tannyx pointed their team to a natural outcrop of cover for the assaulting team to start. Once everyone had their preferred weapon swapping out what they had already been carrying, the five new team members were on their way. Dexuret took the lead having swapped out her Viper for a Mantis and her pistol for a nonlethal one. Heeding the armourer’s advice she grabbed a helmet, never a fan of using them but imagined a headshot would have her knocked on her ass and down for the count. She brought up her omnitool, everyone’s communication access points appearing, she connected them tuning to a channel isolated behind a firewall of her own creation. Securing their conversations for their ears and their ears only.

“I have a good idea of what everyone is capable of but De Sufva is our mystery man. I haven’t a clue to what he can do.” She began, her helmet under one arm matching the blue and white of the Initiative. “But if we play this right, we can steal the hostage right out from under their noses.” She laughed, her mandibles spreading for a toothy turian grin.

“Name’s Dex by the way,” She turned to look at both Kargad and Naryxa. “Cyber warfare specialist assigned to Fireteam Echo. I know between the five of us we have a bag of surprises for them as well.”

Serena put on her helmet, weapons already holstered. Her anger fading as she turned her mind to the task at hand. She had gone to the remaining weapons after everyone had chosen their gear, quickly stripping them of their ammo and was currently putting it in Del. She talked to her group as she did so, distractedly, mind focused on the task. ”Serena Mathews, VI and Robotics Specialist. Anjor is probably an experienced guerilla warfare specialist, given that his is both one of the few chosen by the Angaran resistance to represent them and the fact that the Angarans have no professional military to speak of. Expect things designed to stun, disrupt, immobilize, and otherwise make you incapable of fighting back. Firu is aggressive. She’ll prefer ‘offense is the best defense’ and will likely challenge what she perceives as the biggest threat. That’ll be Kargad. She’s a strong biotic but not very good at controlling it. Expect in your face bursts like Charge and Nova, and for her to get up close and personal.” She finished loading Del, sending the drone to float by her.

"Khosin is more reserved. He’ll play true defense, maybe counter-sniping. A decent biotic, but he’ll use his to keep us away from Noori. Expect things to weaken your defense to allow him or the others to get in the eliminating blow. Don’t know much about the others, aside from what was on their dossiers. Clyfford strikes me as the more aggressive type as well, but he has experience with this type of scenario. Albeit on our side. If I had to guess, I’d say he’ll be somewhere between Firu and Khosin. In your face, but only if you come to him. Ryria is their weakest combatant. I’d say she’ll hang back and use her biotics to support. Yaganita will probably be more along Khosin’s lines. Hard defensive and support.” She glanced over at Dex and Hazan, smiling. ”You two still have those Tact cloaks don’t you?”

Kargad snorted at the mention of Firu, with all the inflections of a defiant bull, and grinned hungrily as he slung the Katana shotgun he’d pilfered from the armoury over one shoulder.

”Hah, ‘up close and personal’? I’m starting to think this might be some fun after all!”
He’d been momentarily perplexed by the exercise back at the armoury, ”Not much of a practice without live rounds, then, is it?”, but was visibly warming to the idea now they were talking shop.

”Let her come and get me, then! I was dealing with biotics when her grandparents were still itches in their ancestor’s sacks. Nobody who ever won a fight with me did it by letting me get close.”

He let loose a burst of laughter, that low croaking rumble of stony chortling that seemed common to every krogan. He held his stomach, savoured the joy of the pre-combat banter for a few moments, and then composed himself. Wiped away the ghost of a tear, not because he’d been crying, but because he’d observed humans do it and assumed it to be some form of formality. He exhaled, with mirth in his tone, before he continued on.
”Hell, I raised two biotics. This is gonna be literal childsplay.”

Naryxa switched out her own weapons for the pistol and assault rifle. She wasn’t a fan of rifles, but when fast fire was required - it would do her better than a heavy pistol. She stayed back from the fireteam just slightly. Paying attention to the relationships that already existed. It seemed that some of her comrades already knew each other - and she did begin to wonder if their pre-existing friendships would affect them when the real danger crept in. She then began to think about how that might affect her too.

Seeing people with… their people caused her heart to ache a little. She’d performed in similar activities with her own huntresses. “I just wonder how soon this will all get out of hand… My experience with new teams such as these are that at least one person each side will get carried away. It’s all well and good to discuss tactic and who is likely to do what - but perhaps we focus on what we are going to do.” The Asari pushed down her helmet, closing her eyes to take a deep breath - hoping she had the attention of her team. “It doesn’t matter how many shots they take, how much biotic power they have… What matters is how they gel, if they trust one another… It only takes one big shot to derail a whole operation. We have to act in complete symmetry.”

She stretched out her arms, pulling back her shoulders and lifting her chin. She took another deep breath, feeling the flow of oxygen travel from her lips, down her throat, and into her stomach. She imagined the very same breath spreading out down her legs, flowing through them. With the image clear in her mind, she came up on the tips of her toes - “we can win this challenge without firing a single shot if we can be smart enough about it” she stood gracefully, her voice soft - and carefully she raised her left leg, resting her foot against her right knee. A simple pose, but it allowed her to take full and deep breaths. She expected her team to think she was a lunatic.

Sometimes she wondered herself, if that were the case.

”Huh! Sounds boring,” Kargad replied plainly, his voice decidedly less soft, “What’s the point of bein’ part of this beautiful cosmic chaos if we don’t get real wild with it? I mean, look at The Initiative: planned to the last detail and- let’s be fun and frank about it- a shit show until, well, now. Embrace it!”

“I agree with Naryxa, even if she said it while imitating a tree.” She snorted. “We’ll prep a plan B based on how the other team may react to our offense. To start I think a good ole fashioned distraction, dividing the defenders up, and then scooping up the hostage when their backs are turned. We’re fucked if they stick together, considering the uneven team counts.” Dex said with a gesture at the building. “Typically, we’d have a recon team to scope out the surroundings before blazing in but that’s in a scenario where the enemy isn’t expecting you, specifically.”

Kargad creased his brow, and thought with mute effort. The phrasing of that sentence - expecting you specifically - gave him cause for pause.
“Well they’re absolutely goin’ to be expecting me to come barreling down at them, krogans are sort of hard to disguise and we only have the one trick. Maybe we can use that expectation? Get the drop on them. But the drop is me. Drop me on them.”
He paused again, and if a Krogan had the capacity to blush for his awkwardness, he would have. His inexperience betrayed itself, tactics were a new and daunting reality.
”I don’t know all the military terms and techniques, or anythin’, but I do know my handsome mug comin’ at them from behind might give some of ‘em cause to face the other way. Does that plan work? Usually I just sorta… krogan my way through stuff, otherwise.”

Naryxa relaxed, her brow furrowed at the mention of her being… a tree in such a way. What was wrong with trees anyway? They provided oxygen and were habitats for many creatures, and they bore fruit. At least the Turian agreed with her. She knew that the Krogan wouldn’t. Krogan were loud and very one-note when it came to battle.

Kargad was so far looking like the possible ego of the group, but all bets were currently off on Serena... “Actually, what is scarier? A krogan dropping from the sky - because then you are then aware and you see the krogan… You can also shoot the krogan… But what if you never see the krogan at all?” She turned to face Kargad, a smirk forming on her lips. “What if you can only hear him?”

"Hazan Volintis. Reconnaissance, cartography, marksmanship and CQC specialist. Served my time with the navy back home, now I'm here."

Hazan had replaced his gear with an Avenger and a Katana and was trudging up the embankment with the squad. However, he kept an eye on the compound, his mind working in tandem with his expertise as he drew a mental floor plan of the building, keeping in mind the details he'd seen and hadn't seen. If all were to spec, the building was going to be hell for CQC. Narrow hallways, tight corners and multiple angles to cover, not to mention that it had two floors and a balcony overlooking the area.

As the group approached their starting point, Hazan dropped to a knee and flattened the sand in front of him with his talons. He quickly began drawing the mental map he'd made earlier, separating both floors and marking where the doors, windows and staircases were with simple symbols. Once done, he stood and admired his rough work.

"Alright fellas, that's what I got from inspecting the building as we walked by. The balcony's going to be the least safe entry. Too exposed, no cover, but offers a good advantage if we take over the second floor early, if they aren't set up there. The doors on the north and south aren't good either; choke points that lead into bigger rooms that don't offer much protection for us. West door sounds good for a by-the-book breach and clear, although we're APEX. We're not that typical either."

Dex bent down to examine his drawings. “If we send in Kargad with some backup support through here,” She pointed at the balcony. “We could do well to divide their defenses immediately, scatter them - while the rest of us ambush where they run, possibly running with the hostage right into our hands.” Dex considered the idea, “Terribly risky but could end it as fast as it starts.”

Serena was thinking about what Dex had said. ‘Specifically prepared for us.’ That meant they would be expecting them to do something like that. Something that was safe and slightly cautious. That played to all of their maximum strengths. She thought back to Kargard’s idea of just attacking straight ahead in a charge. ”That’s not a bad idea…” She said softly, an idea forming in her head.

”I have a plan. Its crazy, but hear me out.” She knelt next to Dex, pointing at the drawing scratched in the sand. ”Firu and Khosin have no doubt been telling their team about our styles as much as we’ve been telling our team. Someone has doubtlessly read all our dossiers and has a rough idea of Kargard and Naryxa’s styles. So they’ll expect us to do what our strengths and usual styles are. Dex and I in the back lines supporting or sneaking around. Haze in mid-range or close if he needs too. Kargard rushing in hard and personal. Naryxa darting around, a mobile damage dealer. They’re going to prepare for that.”

”They’ll keep a sharp eye out for people trying to sneak over the open field around them. Footprints where nothing should be, sounds where nothing is, scanning if they can, etc etc. They’ll expect Kargard to be a diversion for an ambush or us to sneak and get the hostage. So. I suggest we do something they don’t expect at all. We do a frontal assault on the western door.” She tapped that side in the sand. ”All of us.” She gestured to Sarah, the small little drone behind her. ”I’m sending Sarah to go watch them and find out where they’re going to put the hostage. She’ll link to our helmet sets so we can always keep a location on the hostage.” The drone beeped, flying high into the sky and away as it cloaked itself. ”A minute or so before we head out, Del will fly to their roof and get in position to support us when we attack.”

She gestured around the drawn buildings. ”The area we have to go through to get to the buildings is all wide open. They can shoot at us as soon as they see us. Fortunately, they only have small arms and any explosives they have will have to be non-lethal. Nothing with considerable impact. If we stick together, and only go as slow as our slowest member,” She smiled as she looked up at all the people towering over her. “Which is likely me, given how all of you are giants. If we stick together like that I can keep a barrier up from when they start firing on us until we get to the main entrance. Though,” she motioned to Kargard and Naryxa, “it’d be appreciated if either of you can use barrier and reinforce mine when that happens. When they all reveal their firing positions, Del will split into three and start using their small mini-guns to suppress three of them and give us an even easier time. When we get to the entrance, Kargard, Naryxa, and I push hard to get to the hostage through the normal route, drawing their attention to us. The three Del’s will be helping us, making the numbers in our favour. While we’re doing that, Haze and Dex will activate their tactical cloaks as soon as we breach and go for the hostage in a sneaky way. If they have any more than two guards on her, the three of us and the three dels will be able to overwhelm those opposing us and support you two. If not, you should have the element of surprise to get the drop on them and secure the hostage. And Sarah will be able to aid you with her omni-lash.”

She sat back on her heels, looking around. ”To summarize, we do a direct assault against the western door, with me and maybe one of our other biotics keeping a barrier to stop them from gunning us down as we rush the door. Del will drop down and start suppressing them if they start firing on us as we run towards them. Sarah is already keeping an eye on the Hostage, so we should always be linked and have an idea of where she is. Kargard will breach first, and Naryxa and I will assault with him to keep them busy and push hard for the hostage. As soon as we breach, Haze and Dex get their tactical cloaks on and go for the hostage in a sneaky way. How is up to them. The three Dels will be with the assaulting team, giving us six total guns on that side. Any questions?”

”I could always flank them. While you guys draw their fire, I could wheel around to the external staircase while cloaked. Once you guys get their attention, they’ll be focused on what’s happening, hopefully enough to mask a cloaked approach on the balcony. Unless that’s too risky.”

The Asari listened to Serena’s plan. Keeping her thoughts to herself. Reminding herself that this was all an exercise to see how they worked together - and an ice breaker. She would treat it as such. This was all educational - and the most educational of all was seeing how her group pitched their ideas, spoke of themselves, and where they placed themselves in the battle - and how important their own role was in the success and outcome. All of this discussion gave her an excellent insight into the inner workings of her team mates. The picture was becoming clear but she was withholding her judgement for the mean time…

“That’s a very interesting idea, Serena, but what if this is precisely what they’re expecting? What then?” she spoke in a deliberately challenging tone - awaiting response - she wanted to see if Serena could think on the fly.

”That’d work really well Haze. Just keep an eye out for trapped doors and hallways. They have a demolition expert and a guerilla expert afterall. I’d be surprised if they didn’t trap it all to kingdom come.”

Serena blinked in surprise at Naryxa’s tone. She had expected questions and counters to her plan, not someone to challenge her like she was the leader. Maybe Naryxa wanted to be the one seen as in charge giving the plans? Whatever the case, she had put the idea out. She would defend it too. “Even if they do expect it, it's still arguably the best option.

”The only way they could really counter it is if they all pull back around the hostage and hole up in one room, and/or try to counter flank us. If they do the former, it’ll be a matter of how fast can we get in there and break apart their defenses, that’s where Kargard can Krogan it up again with us focusing our barriers on him, and getting all our guns in there to purely outshoot them. With Dex and Haze being able to flank if they do it a room with windows. If they do the latter, well, we’ll have to either quickly get engaged with the main group and rush for the hostage while the odds are in our favour, or we wait until we see the counter-flankers and then just take them down ourselves.”

She tapped on the drawing of the buildings. ”If they don’t do those things, we take away their advantages. They won’t be able to predict where our two tactical cloakers will be coming from or going to, or have the luxury of looking for physical signs of a tact cloak and doing a thorough scan. They won’t have the advantage of numbers, especially if they want to protect the hostage. They’ll have to split up. We limit how long they can take potshots at us as we cross the open field to the building. We force them to open up weaknesses that Dex and Haze or us three can exploit.” Serena shrugged. ”That’s the best plan I’ve got at least. If someone has other ideas, I’m more than willing to hear them.”

“Now that sounds all fine and thought out except for in the very likely case those drones are disabled.” She held up a talon, then held up two, “Fried or sabotaged. This plan relies way too heavily on your DEL units not being removed. I say we go ahead with the barrier but strictly keep the drones as a surprise and last resort. If anyone of us is shot, we can get back up to move or shoot back but once those drones are hit they’re a liability.” Dex hummed. “Alternatively, they’d make for some good bait.”

“Had me at ‘Krogan it up.’”

”They already are bait. Put yourself in the opposite end of that situation. You have six guns shooting at you. Which is gonna be your first target? The armored, shielded,mobile, and ability using three organics or the unshielded and mobile small drones that can fire rapidly and can be taken down with one shot from your rifle? They’ll focus on the easier targets in an attempt to be able to bring their numbers to bear. Giving us more chances to focus them down. Besides, in general the three of us are supposed to be bait, and if they aren’t expecting Del after seeing me load him with ammon in front of them, we should be very concerned about APEX standards.”

Kargad felt a throbbing in his temples, and massaged the craggy canvas of his forehead as he listened to them bicker on. He was reminded of his infant daughters, shaking him awake - which one of our identical dolls is better, dad?

He had to admit, though, it was tough to choose who he wanted to invest his trust in. He admired Serena because she was human - and humans were much like krogans. Dreamers, scrappers, killers. They wanted war, and blood, and glory. If they weren’t so squishy, they’d be perfect warriors. But, being the hulking beast he was, he couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed by her faith in her tiny machines - Dex had made a very prudent point. Machines were fickle and prone to breaks, even guns jammed at times. The only thing you could trust in a fight was a clenched fist or something heavy and blunt.

Dex’s plan seemed funner, and Kargad, relatively free of the traditional Krogan biases (he thought of every race as his people, even Salarians, the smug half-lived bastards), had to respect that nobody knew how to plan a good firefight like a Turian. But then, was the plan too obvious? Does that matter, if you have a good team?

”Does them expecting us really make this that much harder?”, he asked, earnestly. He was no soldier, yet, after all - just a father with wanderlust.
“I feel like we’d be puttin’ on a better show if we rolled with the punches. I’ve got fire in my belly, and shit, I know some of you kids’re damned good shots. Why would the original plan fall through just ‘cause they see us comin’? If we hit them hard and well enough, does that matter?”

Dex nodded glancing down at her omnitool, “It looks like we’ve run out of time anyway. Point made, we’ll stick together in a barrier on approach. Then Haze and I will sneak away to ambush the hostage guards, while having the DEL drones as backup. Do what we can to hit them hard, keep them unbalanced, divide them up if we can.”

She placed her helmet on tapping the side of it, her voice coming through on their ear pieces. “Keep in contact on our private comms or else I’ll be more than happy to spill the beans on your most embarrassing intranet search engine histories.” She paused then added, “I’m partially joking.”

With that said, as a group they all did a final prep on their equipment and set out toward the killhouse.
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