Yea. You want in on it?
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A Spiny Ant
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For someone in a position of power, Rullphana appeared quite young. Perhaps it was simply something he’d have to grow accustomed to however, when Isidore had yet to encounter any Uruthan or Sirithen who looked ‘aged’. He had raised a brow when the girl from the smithery called Augusta an ‘old hag’, and maintained that look of slight surprise when it was mentioned that the prince had been just as raucous as a child. Perhaps it was simply puberty though. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen a kid grow from being cheerful and upbeat to perpetually sullen and touchy. Well, dwarvish blood or not, it’d do for Augusta to grow some thicker skin anyhow.
“Don’t mind it too much, Augusta,” Isidore said, his tone light and measured. “Every adult’s old in the eyes of an adolescent.” There was little point in expecting any deference from a youngster, after all. For all their deeds and all they’ve slain, neither Augusta nor himself had any reason in this society to be respected for.
“And yes. I would be interested in some proper instruction in magic. It would be even better if we could observe some of your experimentations with this seed,” he continued, settling his gaze upon Rullphana's own. “However, not that I doubt the word of someone associated closely with Vasserasa, but do you have this…deal cemented upon a written contract? Or is this not done around these parts?”
The dark-haired youth reached within his cloak to retrieve the demon seed but did not hand it over yet.
“As I wasn’t present during this deal, it would be good to have all of us on the same page here.”
Mm, so in general, it's still expected that everyone's characters are on the same time and will be partying together (so whatever social/occupational obligations they have will take somewhat of a backseat)?
Also, noticed a bit of a discrepancy between when everyone's popped into the new world. I'm guessing that's just a side effect of everyone having different methods of getting isekai'd?
Also, noticed a bit of a discrepancy between when everyone's popped into the new world. I'm guessing that's just a side effect of everyone having different methods of getting isekai'd?
Mm, I guess the main thing I'm wondering about right now is that, as a consequence of everyone being a major player belonging to a different faction, whether the RP will advance largely with people going about doing their own business (so PC-PC interaction would more commonly be through the effects individual PC actions have upon the world) or if there's the expectation that they'll eventually all be partying together.
Just a couple of questions.
How powerful is an average mage in this world? There's a couple of characters with the ability to teleport; is space manipulation a common sort of tech? What exactly are the mechanics of magic (as understood by the natives) in this universe? Are we talking about the fairly rigid 'incantation + ritual' combination of more traditional fantasy? Or the more natural superpower-esque stuff from action-fantasy stories? Do we come in with the sorta general isekai cheat powers that people usually snag? What sorta religions are prevalent in this world anyhow? And are the gods real, or just cultural constructs?
Also, considering how characters seem to all be major players in some way, do we have control of the NPCs around us, or would the GMs be handling all PC-NPC interactions?
How powerful is an average mage in this world? There's a couple of characters with the ability to teleport; is space manipulation a common sort of tech? What exactly are the mechanics of magic (as understood by the natives) in this universe? Are we talking about the fairly rigid 'incantation + ritual' combination of more traditional fantasy? Or the more natural superpower-esque stuff from action-fantasy stories? Do we come in with the sorta general isekai cheat powers that people usually snag? What sorta religions are prevalent in this world anyhow? And are the gods real, or just cultural constructs?
Also, considering how characters seem to all be major players in some way, do we have control of the NPCs around us, or would the GMs be handling all PC-NPC interactions?
Mm, could you update the first post of this OOC with all those hider'd blocks of information you've got in your interest check? Thanks.
“Oh, fancy Nuclei you’ve got there,” the mud-drenched warrior said as Raime’s trump card was revealed, maintaining his grip on Amulak even as the mage blasted out another salvo of arcane power. The Darkness element seeped underneath the mud like some sort of virus, undoubtedly dropping their max HP by 74, but the actual damage dealt didn’t even so much as warrant a response from them. Any magic user’s offensive spells were dependent upon the amount of MP consumed, and while certain passives like Mana Control allowed one to ‘upcast’ their early-level spells, that wasn’t enough for Amulak to do significant damage. 24 MP’s worth of power was good for whacking low-level mobs, but hardly noteworthy against the physical behemoth that pinned him against a wall.
Certainly, it wasn’t even enough for them to stop talking. “And yeah, I’m a fucking Immortal. Ya know? Like what that wall-crashing dunce said?” They laughed again, this time at Klein’s relatively slow approach, more like the crawling of a tank through muddy trenches than the roaring charge of a semi-truck. It did enough to add another element of chaos to the scuffle though; Raime now certainly didn’t have a clear shot on the nameless player.
Ames’ flaming shield didn’t operate linearly though. Arcing through the air, the spirit-seeped disc swept for the warrior’s head, only for Amulak’s own body to be swung towards it. With an anti-climatic ‘thwack’, the disc bounced off the necromancer’s head, dealing 0 damage thanks to friendly fire mechanics. Klein soon ended up against that same wall, his shoulder slamming into the ragdolled mage’s back like a bull through a matador’s cape: Amulak went swinging back, while Klein ended up almost plastering the wall behind. Throughout all this, the mud-drenched warrior remained bemused and lightfooted.
“Wait, cut it out? I dunno where ya got your maths from, but I’m counting six of you and one of me. Disorderly six with shit builds and no organization, but still. C’mon. Yah think I wouldn’t go ape shit immediately with these numbers?” They hefted their chopper on their shoulder, as if contemplating just beheading Amulak before he cast any other annoying spells. “Extremely freaking suspicious is pretty rude too, y’know? Like, hello? Maybe I came down here to fulfill a goddamn class requirement? And then, after I get out, I’m greeted by you six goobers who decide it’s PKing time? Like, sure, it’s a game, and it’s no hard feels if you really wanna kill someone playin’ solo, but wow, don’t pretend you’ve got some moral high ground for this.”
They brushed some of the mud out of their right eye, revealing a pale tapestry of patchwork skin, spliced together with stitches.
“So hey, make up your goddamn minds already. We fightin’ fighting, or ya wanna go apologize to me and then get back to whatever quest you’re doing before?”
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee
The afternoon sun warmed her clammy flesh in a way that exercise couldn’t as Ari rested on the rock. There was a numbness to her legs after so long on the road, a pleasant buzz that came with thoughtless physical activity. In a way, nothing much really happened this day, outside of some nice scenery and some tense encounters with monsters. It was very much like the Stranding-type games that got popular a decade or so ago, a slice-of-life experience that was so very similar, yet different, to her own life in Malaysia. The quiet buzz of the small village sounded around her; the sloshing of water, the crackling of woodfire stoves, the muted laughter of children, the off-pitch song of an old woman. Ten meters away, a bird she didn’t recognize, one with distractingly yellow-and-green plumage, hopped up and down upon the branches of an evergreen tree, its trunk warped and bent like a hunchback.
In the north, she could see clouds forming over the tops of distant mountain ranges. From the south, the wind carried with it the faint aroma of rust and sweetness. Man-Joji had disappeared into one of the larger huts, the others had gone off to explore and do some trading (though Vator was dragged away by the other two for it). A lone child, scruffy haired and wearing a kimono two sizes too large for their frame, crouched by the river, a fishing rod in hand and an empty bucket beside them. Occasionally, they skirted glances towards the non-human entity lounging on the rock beside an outsider’s wagon, but they turned away whenever Ari’s own gaze turned towards them.
Shin-Jia was a quiet village with little to take note of, the nighttime chills encouraging most to simple hunker back down into their homes. There appeared to be plenty of opportunity for her to do her sleuthing.
@GreenGoat
Certainly, it wasn’t even enough for them to stop talking. “And yeah, I’m a fucking Immortal. Ya know? Like what that wall-crashing dunce said?” They laughed again, this time at Klein’s relatively slow approach, more like the crawling of a tank through muddy trenches than the roaring charge of a semi-truck. It did enough to add another element of chaos to the scuffle though; Raime now certainly didn’t have a clear shot on the nameless player.
Ames’ flaming shield didn’t operate linearly though. Arcing through the air, the spirit-seeped disc swept for the warrior’s head, only for Amulak’s own body to be swung towards it. With an anti-climatic ‘thwack’, the disc bounced off the necromancer’s head, dealing 0 damage thanks to friendly fire mechanics. Klein soon ended up against that same wall, his shoulder slamming into the ragdolled mage’s back like a bull through a matador’s cape: Amulak went swinging back, while Klein ended up almost plastering the wall behind. Throughout all this, the mud-drenched warrior remained bemused and lightfooted.
“Wait, cut it out? I dunno where ya got your maths from, but I’m counting six of you and one of me. Disorderly six with shit builds and no organization, but still. C’mon. Yah think I wouldn’t go ape shit immediately with these numbers?” They hefted their chopper on their shoulder, as if contemplating just beheading Amulak before he cast any other annoying spells. “Extremely freaking suspicious is pretty rude too, y’know? Like, hello? Maybe I came down here to fulfill a goddamn class requirement? And then, after I get out, I’m greeted by you six goobers who decide it’s PKing time? Like, sure, it’s a game, and it’s no hard feels if you really wanna kill someone playin’ solo, but wow, don’t pretend you’ve got some moral high ground for this.”
They brushed some of the mud out of their right eye, revealing a pale tapestry of patchwork skin, spliced together with stitches.
“So hey, make up your goddamn minds already. We fightin’ fighting, or ya wanna go apologize to me and then get back to whatever quest you’re doing before?”
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee
The afternoon sun warmed her clammy flesh in a way that exercise couldn’t as Ari rested on the rock. There was a numbness to her legs after so long on the road, a pleasant buzz that came with thoughtless physical activity. In a way, nothing much really happened this day, outside of some nice scenery and some tense encounters with monsters. It was very much like the Stranding-type games that got popular a decade or so ago, a slice-of-life experience that was so very similar, yet different, to her own life in Malaysia. The quiet buzz of the small village sounded around her; the sloshing of water, the crackling of woodfire stoves, the muted laughter of children, the off-pitch song of an old woman. Ten meters away, a bird she didn’t recognize, one with distractingly yellow-and-green plumage, hopped up and down upon the branches of an evergreen tree, its trunk warped and bent like a hunchback.
In the north, she could see clouds forming over the tops of distant mountain ranges. From the south, the wind carried with it the faint aroma of rust and sweetness. Man-Joji had disappeared into one of the larger huts, the others had gone off to explore and do some trading (though Vator was dragged away by the other two for it). A lone child, scruffy haired and wearing a kimono two sizes too large for their frame, crouched by the river, a fishing rod in hand and an empty bucket beside them. Occasionally, they skirted glances towards the non-human entity lounging on the rock beside an outsider’s wagon, but they turned away whenever Ari’s own gaze turned towards them.
Shin-Jia was a quiet village with little to take note of, the nighttime chills encouraging most to simple hunker back down into their homes. There appeared to be plenty of opportunity for her to do her sleuthing.
@GreenGoat
So Firebeard was likely a second-tier, hm? He’ll have to convene with Otti at a latter time then, to get a grasp of just how wide or tall this social pyramid looked like. Another monarchial society though, perhaps with stricter observations of hierarchy than what was within Gloomhaven. It’d be good to visit some time. Perhaps unavoidable if they were to guarantee Leuca’s long-term safety.
Isidore looked towards Sorcha. “My work has been pro bono so far, but now…I’ll expect proper compensation for my services.” He clasped his hands together. “Such matters can be left for another time though.”
He stood up, nodded once towards Leuca, then said to Augusta, “Yes. Shall we?”
And with that, Isidore opened the door for the reincarnated Sirithen, before following her out. He had no intention of being left out of a potentially illuminating discussion with Vasserasa’s advisor, after all, especially not when the matter of demons pertained to them both.
To confirm,this is the OOC or something?
A wind blade was nothing special, not when one simply considered that magic had a habit of overturning any understanding of the natural world. But that didn't make it any less deadly, and Otis, for all his perceptiveness and speed, didn't have time to dodge.
He didn't need to either, not when Utsumi blocked it for him, leaving Otis alive and once again, pissed.
Fucking egghead dipshit should've come up with some counter to wind magic overall. He already knew Shinzou had that sort of power, and it wasn't like there was a difference between an arrow and a wind blast anyways. If this was a proper deathmatch, Otis would've been dead again. 2-0 for the yokai supremacist goon with delusions of grandeur, who even managed to escape after that. A kurobozu was what Kuuto had called the shadow. Something else to consider for the future, another thing to design a counter for. Ah fuck, he was definitely gonna kill that shadow next time. If Shinzou took this as a sign to just hide away for the rest of his life, Otis was going to make it his own mission to hunt the bastard down and turn him into meat.
Before he could do that though, he had to plan. Strategize. Think. Create.
Regeneration, teleportation, wind magic, superior physical capabilities, and partial resistance to anti-youkai techniques owing to his heritage. There was that glowing energy as well that had to be analyzed and studied. Many notes to take, but how many more days did they even have left before the teachers could conveniently whisk them out of Kyoto and leave the 'professionals' to handle this? Otis narrowed his eyes, then took in a deep breath. He felt the air enter his blood vessels, seeping into every corner of his body, and then he pressed his fingers against his forehead until his furrowed brow relaxed. He'll use his anger when he needs that extra volatile energy. Before then, however, he needed to remain calm and rational.
By the time Otis returned to the inn, Shinzou was no longer living rent-free in his head.
And when Utsumi asked, it became a good opportunity to organize and clarify his thoughts. "You are aware of the first incident, Utsumi. We met Seirin, were attacked by an assassin associated with the Sennen-no-Matsuri, fought them off, and then parted ways. A short, but amicable encounter that ingrained the idea, one way or the other, that Seirin was a decent person who deserved better. After our conversation about the whereabouts of Koyuki and the others, I began my personal investigations, culminating in an encounter with Shinzou and a Yatagarasu ninja at the Convention Center. Afterwards, I created a device meant to detect the spiritual energy that yokai and certain Arcanis races exude, for the purpose of finding a way into that other side of Kyoto."
This would be a good chance to take a breath, so Otis did, and in that moment, recalled the intonation and pitch of Shinzou's voice as well. "The detector lead me to Nijo Castle, where I watched and observed until something happened that was significant enough for me to wish to investigate in person. My classmates had similar ideas. We came across the dead, and the dead lead us to Shinzou, overseeing the Egg. After questioning him, this is how he responded."
And then, the Strigidae pinched his vocal cords and mimicked that half-blooded archer bastard. “The Divine Egg is unique to Amaterasu, and those who have been blessed by her power. Her radiant fire is the fire of life and creation, and from the egg she can spring forth life. Why Seirin and why Tamamo you ask? Why it’s simple, they are both among Amaterasu’s Blessed chosen ones. Using a Sekko-Seki, a fragment of Tamamo, and forcibly combining it with a more complete vessel, we can revive Tamamo by using the life force of that person. Because Tamamo no Mae is the only yokai to still exist in this world, she is the only one who can still be revived of the Three Great Evils. While the other two Otakemaru and Shuten Douji have descendants, those descendants are too diluted in power, and it would take yet another thousand years for them be able to compare. Our leader of the Sennen no Matsuri is one of those descendants, and he too knows this keenly.”
His voice returned to normal.
"As previously established, our connection with Seirin prevents us from just watching and enjoying this monumental display, so we fought. And now, after the fight, I've a question for you, Utsumi. How will Seirin be saved?"
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