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In [Aslan - The Grand Duchy] The Starry Entrance → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Grand Induction Hall of the Ethereal Luminary rests high within the central spire of the academy, a vast circular chamber suspended in open air and light. The floor is polished marble threaded with slow-moving sigils that drift like gentle currents beneath the surface. Above, a great crystalline array floats in deliberate rotation, its many facets scattering star-like motes across the tall walls of the hall. The light shifts softly across tiers of seating that rise in graceful arcs, while narrow balconies near the vaulted ceiling hold silent observation galleries.

Candidates have gathered upon the central platform, each having passed through the Luminary’s gates and the quiet scrutiny of its wards. The atmosphere is calm, almost reverent. Nothing here feels rushed. The academy moves with the patience of something that has stood for centuries.

A tall figure in deep academic robes steps forward at the edge of the platform.

Proctor Roffimières is an older man, his white hair and beard neatly kept, small spectacles resting upon the bridge of his nose. Threads of constellation-like embroidery shimmer faintly across his vestments, and in his hands floats a clear geometric crystal whose interior glows with faint starlight. His voice carries easily through the chamber, measured and precise.

Proctor Roffimières



“Welcome, candidates. You stand within the Grand Induction Hall of the Ethereal Luminary. Today’s trial will determine whether you possess the clarity of thought, composure, and discipline required to study within these halls.”

As he speaks, the crystal array above the platform rotates slowly, casting shifting patterns of light across the floor.

“The examination you are about to undertake will take place within the Astral Vestibule, a controlled dimensional environment designed for evaluation. Harmonization wards within that space will regulate excessive magical output. This ensures fairness among all participants.”

Roffimières closes the small tome floating beside him with a soft gesture.

“You will have a moment before the trial begins.”

The hall remains quiet, waiting. Candidates now have the opportunity to present themselves before the Luminary’s examination truly begins.
In [IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

Suddenly, it was revealed what the chamber ahead housed.

Percival’s eyes naturally glinted towards the runic, embroidered door. His instincts screamed at him, prodding that whatever was behind it was worth a pretty penny. He grinned as smoke left the smoking pipe. “Bounty.”

“But not unguarded.” Xian-Fu growled, being the first of the pair to notice the scrambling skeletons; her master’s greedy grin was mirrored in her own lips, yet her sharp, smug grin was one that craved action instead. “No objections to dealing with them.” She answered Astra’s question with a bestial growl.

“Walking corpses? My word!” Percival’s raised eyebrow told everything about his surprise; his monocled eye was brought to the back of the rifle, lining the iron sight against a group of the skeletons away from Astra. “Insisting on shambling about, how disgraceful! Good thing I always load a ‘special’ shell first, yes, yes?” Carrying the conversation, just as if he were talking about the bad weather, he squeezed the trigger of his rifle. [Percival - Action 1]

The bullet left the barrel in a gunpowder puff of smoke, targeting a possible group of undead, ready to blow up in a 5ft Area, releasing shrapnel as it reached its target.

In tandem, Xian-Fu moved in against any skeleton that still hadn’t formed a group with feline grace, the ferocious grin was still kept on her muzzle. [Xian-Fu - Action 1] The heavy blade sang through the air, less a surgical cut and more a crushing blow that aimed to turn ancient ribs into white powder. [Xian-Fu - Action 2] And in the very next moment, she would step backward, disengaging. [Xian-Fu - Action 3]

Percival would bring the bolt of his hunting rifle up and then back; the spent shell would fly from it, brass clattering against the dusty, stony floor. He brought his rifle up again, this time carefully lining it against the skeletal guardian holding the worn staff. He didn't know much about 'aetheric arts', but he knew a shaman when he saw one. [Percival - Action 2] “Better not risk some curse.” He muttered before squeezing the trigger again, firing against the skeleton. [Percival - Action 3]

Actions:
[Percival - Action 1] - Cannister Shot (FLUX) - Fighting Style F (E) + Range E (30ft) + Steady Hands F + Area F (5ft) - F Grade 0 Post Cooldown (Used FLUX to reduce a Fighting Style E ability to F and add Area F to it) - Precision D (3) + Hunting Rifle E (2) + Ability F (1) - 6 Base Effectiveness
[Percival - Action 2] - Take aim at the staff-wielding guardian
[Percival - Action 3] - Basic Attack - 5 Base Effectiveness

[Xian-Fu - Action 1] - Move in 20ft
[Xian-Fu - Action 2] - Colossal Strike - Superstrength E - Grade E 1 Post Cooldown - Strength D (3) + Skinning Blade E (2) + Ability E (2) - 7 Base Effectiveness
[Xian-Fu - Action 3] - Retreat 20ft
In [Wickerford - Ryke] An eye for an eye → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The First Assault


Jilly vanished into the hat in a wobbling, absurd little ritual of trust, and Fredrick answered it with raw force. He swung once and let her fly.

The throw carried farther than any sane person should have managed. The blue blur arced over the brush and dropped straight onto the nearer archer before the bandit even had time to look properly upward. There was a wet, elastic whump as Jilly crashed into him in a tangle of hat, slime, and surprise. The bowman folded hard into the dirt near the cage, stunned out cold before he could so much as cry warning.

That single impact cracked the camp’s stillness wide open.

Fredrick did not waste the opening. He broke away at once, cutting across the clearing toward the second archer, feet eating ground in long, urgent strides. But the throw had cost him. By the time he closed in, the burst of speed bled out of him; breath hitched, muscles burned, and he stopped just shy of striking distance, close enough to threaten, not close enough to finish.

Garreth moved at the same moment, advancing from the southern edge with sword already in motion. He met the melee bandit near the fire with a veteran’s directness, steel flashing in a low, committed cut. The bandit caught it by instinct more than skill, blade scraping hard against blade, and the deflection turned ugly fast. A return slash slipped in tight and bit Garreth across the side.

Not deep. Enough.

Now the camp was awake. One archer was down, one still standing, and the clearing had gone from tense to violent in the span of a breath.

The camp answers


The camp reacts fast.

The remaining archer at I4 jerks at the sudden violence, then immediately gives ground—backpedaling to G4 where the angle between tent and brush is cleaner. Bow already in hand, he nocks and looses in one practiced motion, sending a hurried shot toward Fredrick at K4 before the red-haired man can fully recover from his sprint. [Incoming 2d4-3 attack]

At nearly the same moment, the melee bandit at H7 breaks toward the center, boots cutting across open dirt to J9. He does not rush blindly at Jilly or the cage—instead he angles for Garreth at K10, trying to catch the old soldier from the side while the clearing is still in disarray.

The bandit already facing Garreth at J10 wastes no time either. Steel flashes low, mean, and close as he presses the veteran head-on, trying to keep him pinned in place long enough for the second melee man to close the trap. [Incoming highest roll 2d4-2 attack from J9 and J10]

By the cage, the watcher at H13 snaps to the real danger at last. He strides to G13, planting himself between Jilly at G12 and the cage gate at G14, then lashes out to drive her back from the bars. It is not subtle work—just brute urgency, the kind of swing meant to buy one more second between rescuer and prisoner. Inside, Marra’s daughter recoils from the iron bars, alive and terrified. [Incoming 2d4-3 attack]

The downed archer near F12 remains crumpled, not rejoining the fight.

Then the tent at E9 stirs.

The flap at E9 parted, and a woman stepped out—not dressed like a ragged marauder, but like someone who understood exactly how much cleaner authority looked when it wore dark wool and fitted leather instead of scraps. Her hair was tied back, her jaw narrow and severe, and a green cord circled one wrist above the hilt of a plain but well-kept saber. One look took in the fallen archer, the breached perimeter, and the strangers in the clearing.

She did not shout.

She only said, cold and clipped, “Kill the old man first.”
In [IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

As the group reached the forked path, Percival's gaze would slowly shift between each of the three options, smoke steadily leaving his smoking pipe. The man would briefly look at Xian-Fu, tilting his head to the right passage, no words needed. He would then crouch down, fingertips touching the stony floor, getting way more personal than a man of his station would usually do so. With a swipe, he brought his fingers right in front of his face, digits rubbing against each other as he analyzed both dust and soot. [Percival - Action 1]

Xian-Fu, on the other hand, took a few steps towards the maw of the right corridor. Her expression hardened, eyebrows furrowed as her nostrils flared, her aim being to catch any particular odor that might come in their direction. [Xian-Fu - Action 1]

"It is all fine and good to have our grenadier in mind, yes, yes. But assuming the path ahead will take us to a deeper floor, which certainly does, should we discard this floor that quickly?" Percival asked while getting up to his feet and holding out his dirty fingers.

The tigress was quick to produce a handkerchief from one of her pockets, and nonchalantly, she approached Percival, wiping the soot and dust off his fingers. "The right path, we should investigate that one first. Just as the elf says, we might find treasure that lesser groups skipped on out of fear of whatever roams that corridor." Finishing her task, the piece of cloth vanished into her pocket. And, with a toothy grin from ear-to-ear, she drew the blade from the sheath.

"Excellently put, Xian-Fu." There was a subtle nod of thanks from him, along with a small smile from his lips. "I'd rather not leave any relic behind. Proper cataloging, in capable hands, is what preserves history."

Having given their own position, Astra's pen and paper were met with a shake of Percival's head. "A tragedy, truly, but we have neither parchment nor pen with which we can write. A pity we didn't get those white chalks at the market. Xian-Fu, do make a note in that marvelous memory of yours: 'Purchase chalk. Also, more of that spicy root blend'." - "Certainly, my lord."

Actions:
Percival - Action 1: The Hunter's Gaze - Survival F + Perception F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown
Xian-Fu - Action 1: The Valet's Olfaction - Heightened Sense [Smell] F - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown
In [IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

"Mmmm?" Percival hummed, just in time to turn around and see the new joiners, his gaze going over each of them in turn. "Ah, more reinforcements. Capital!" He said, first focused on Talos' gargantuan stature. "You would have made a hell of a grenadier for sure." He nodded to himself, leaning in towards the giant. "The forefront seems to be the ideal place for you, as shock value shouldn't be ignored, yes, yes."

His gaze slowly shifted to Astra, the woman in the skin-tight suit. "You seem to agree about our friend here. Now, about me taking the rear..." Percival allowed his hunting rifle to rest under his arm and atop his forearm. With his free hands, he opened the flap of the leather satchel he carried at his side, producing a smoking pipe and placing the bit between his lips. "... I have no problem with it, if you are sure." A match was struck, the pipe coming alight with plumes of smoke leaving the corner of his lips every once in a while, his tone charged with meaning

"Hah! An archer!" The lord exclaimed in good spirits to Alexander, a smile present on his lips. "Archery does run in the blood of both my countrymen and ancestors. It bring back memories with my grand old time with the Zulus, yes. Arrows didn't fare too well against canister shot, a pity for them." He laughed, positioning himself at the rear of the group. Xian-Fu, who had only observed, did the exact same.
In [Wickerford - Ryke] An eye for an eye → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The camp holds its shape while the three regroup in the southern brush. Jilly slips back first, Fredrick dropping from the trees a moment later, and Garreth easing in beside them with the quiet steadiness of someone who has spent years reading fights before they start. Ahead, the clearing remains tense but not yet stirred into full alarm: the archer at F12 still watches the cage and open ground, the second at I4 keeps the wider lane, and the cage watcher continues that short, restless route between H13 and G14, never straying far from the gate. The others remain near their positions, wary, but not yet moving like men who know exactly where danger is.

Garreth studies it once, then speaks low. “If you want clean, you take the archers first. If you want fast, you stop thinking about the camp and think only about the girl. Those two are lock on that cage." He points at F12 and H13. "Break that, and you run.” His eyes flick to the central fire. “Do not get bogged down in the middle. That’s where numbers win.”

Then the pressure sharpens.

A black raven cuts down through the trees, wings beating once, twice, before it glides to the ridge of the central tent at E9. It lets out a rough, deliberate croak and hops down through the flap.

Inside the tent, something shifts.

Map info: Each square represents a 5ft distance. Each character has a 3-action economy, which can be used for movement, actions, or abilities. For ease of interpretation, remember to mention coordinates while moving or attacking. Garreth will act as he is told (in varying degrees). Any doubts, feel free to ask!
In [IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

In [IC][Ryke] Adventurer's Guild Posting: Dungeon Diving → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Percival - [Variant - Intermediate], Educated [Lord], Wanted By [The Emerald Slavers - West Empire] - f7941d
Xian-Fu - [Beast] - ed1c24

It was a wonder if Lord Percival Ashcombe was actually paying any attention to the instructions given by the guard. His expression was one of pure delight every single time he brought the rather expensive-looking chinaware teacup to his lips and slurped on the steaming beverage. “Mmmm, the tea is absolutely delightful today, Xian-Fu.” His monocle zeroed in on the towering tigress, head tilting slightly. “Which blend is this?” He asked, taking another sip from it.

“Dark Phoenix Roots, my lord.” She answered him, one shoulder rolling, cracking audibly while she prepared herself for the dungeon delve. “Its defining characteristic is a warm, lingering spiciness.” Adding with a growl, she shifted her attention to the gathered others, guarded-stance but not unkind. “This is Lord Percival Ashcombe.” The tigress gestured towards the man. “And I’m Xian-Fu, his valet. I’m adept with the sword, getting things out of the way, and can keep track of my prey.” She smiled, showing a sharp row of teeth.

“And I’m quite the hunter.” Percival began, as he finished his tea, handing the teacup to Xian-Fu, who promptly stuck it into her Pocket Dimension. “I can find the trails, fix things of a more mundane nature, and I’m also quite skilled with the rifle.” The words were accentuated by him removing his hunting rifle from his shoulder and holding the gun with both hands. “Ah! Retrieving treasure to whom it actually belongs, it reminds me of home.”

Taking the first steps forward, boots hitting the ground with hefty thuds, he looked over his shoulder at the curious woman with the rather scandalous skin-tight suit and the man with the ponty-ears. “Shall we?”
In [Wickerford - Ryke] An eye for an eye → 4 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Fredrick’s second attempt lands with the kind of blunt certainty that ends arguments. The runner—already half-tangled from brush and vines—tries to twist free with a sharp inhale, shoulders turning as if to slip past the bind one last time. Fredrick closes the distance instead, drives a compact strike into the side of the jaw and follows through with his weight, forcing the bandit’s head to snap sideways. The runner staggers, feet skidding in the leaf litter, then collapses in a limp heap among the roots—breathing, but out cold. Whatever warning they meant to carry deeper into the woods dies with them for now, bought with seconds and bruises.

Low to the ground, Jilly’s scouting run keeps to the treeline, her height limited and the undergrowth doing most of the hiding. From the bushes near S7, the camp opens up in broken sightlines—clear enough to count bodies and landmarks, but not clean enough to guarantee every corner. Still, the important pieces are hard to miss. A steel cage sits at E14, and inside it a small figure shifts—Marra’s daughter, alive, curled tight and motionless between moments. A bowman at F12 keeps a steady angle that watches the cage and the clearing, while another archer holds a wider overwatch at I4. Three melee bandits patrol the open ground—one near H7, another at J10, and a third acting as the cage’s leash at H13, pacing to G14 where the cage gate and lock sit within arm’s reach.

Voices carry in clipped bursts: talk of “the others” returning later, of needing to move before they’re pinned, and of their leader “working the new plan” beneath the central tent at E9. Whatever this camp is, it isn’t settled—it’s bracing, watching, and waiting, and the window to act feels measured in minutes, not comfort.
In [The Beastkin Republic] Will They Know Respite? → 5 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Itsy


​
Titles:
Beastkin - Mundane, Small (4ft) - 6ecff6

"Its... its down b-but..." Itsy muttered as his quarry slumped to the ground. Yet the twitching movements told him a clear picture: it wasn't fully dead. "T-thank you for joining me." He told both KaMara and Varius briefly, but his eyes were focused on the undead group. He wasn't about to allow himself to get distracted.

The little shrew began heaving from side to side, excitement and nervousness growing as even more zombies joined the fray. And, seeing how the swordswoman was already engaging the one closing towards her, he decided to help Varius instead. Just as before, the small beast's movements were quick. He Fleched quickly, stepping forward with his full weight behind it and extending his arm in a quick, stab against Zombie4.

Afterward, he would cross-step and spiral around the creature, scurrying back into KaMara's protective shadow.

Actions
1/2 - The Shrew Charge! - Fast F + Fighting Style [Swords] F + Hot Shot F - Itsy covers up to 20ft in a lightning charge, attacking a target and trying to hit a vital part for critical damage - Grade F 0 Post Cooldown - STR E (2) + SWORD F (1) + ABL F (1) = 4 BE vs Zombie4
3 - Move backwards 10ft
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