Fetzen

Phantasm

Same goes for me.

Terecoth: The Hunters Guild (Always open)

Human taverns... Without knowing it, the hunter's guild had done something that asked for compensation. Wouldn't it have been the better decision to hold this rally in the open field ? The initial benefit of it being warmer and calm in here was dwindling anyway, leaking out of this room divider that was barely given the chance to stay closed for any noticeable amount of time. Still, Grol was focusing on the damn thing as if he could stop the steady stream of people by greeting them with a grim look.

A silhouette grabbed his attention. Its strange familiarity had got it past the filter in the Etlock's mind, identifying it as something that was worth being relayed to his upper levels of consciousness despite the fact that it had only occured in the corner of his view. Grol raised himself on tiptoes, something that was bound to be considered hilarious because he was already towering above his surroundings, risiking a serious strike onto his head from above. It was a sign of good quality that the floor was able to hold up against his inhuman stature on such a small area without too much protest.

It was when Amalay got up from her curtsy that he was able to see her dead ahead. What a lucky person... or... was she really ? Or had it been determined usage of her skills that had gotten her in front of this desk so quickly ? He couldn't tell, but the latter thing really would not have surprised him. Grol could very well remember when and how this 'one kill' had occured. The true meaning of this event eluded him however. For the Etlock, it was 'just' a singularity in the behaviour of his friend. As far as he knew her, she didn't freak out and stab somebody with his own weapon, but used methods that seemed to be much more advanced. Not that this would have been capable of reducing his self esteem... After all, he was the biggest one in here. That had to count, too!

He glanced over to the two Etlock comrades. Grol already had to bear the rather bad reputation of his people, he knew that his appearance would do nothing but support this theory of all Etlock's being brutes, and now that! A small boy being pushed around like air by two of them. Perhaps he should step over and give them a beating before he had to start being afraid of a local revolt against his kind ? Luckily, the action subsided before the hulking giant had to give up his place in the line for this.

This was a good thing, because now he had progressed so far that there was only one person left in front of him. Once the man had made his signature, it was his turn to bend down and place his hand on the desk for support. If anyone was worried about Amalay's handwriting, that same one had to be horrified by the act of pure gross motor skills Grol was torturing both parchment and quill with. "Grol. If I wouldn't be convinced that the hunter's doing is a good thing I wouldn't try to join them." he growled with a voice that was brutally deep, then chuckled.

He was really looking forward to those physical tests. Hopefully they would have much to do with what he was good at and less with what he wasn't good at, but who knew ? Now he had to try to get out of this mess as quickly as possible, even if it meant stepping forward slowly, but continuously so that people would get out of his way of their own accord.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

You know, when I read about my character being 'volatile'... I was thinking of those often horribly large power plants in some real-time strategy games I've encountered so far. In Supreme Commander / Forged Alliance, they explicitly bear the 'VOLATILE' attribute, which means if damaged seriously enough, they'll blow up, dealing massive damage to their surroundings. And you know... In Supreme Commander, you have adjavency bonuses. You are rewarded with increased production or efficiency if you build energy storages or metal fabricators around the plants. Both of these buildings are volatile as well and don't have that many hitpoints. Of course, in order to save space and get as many adjancency bonuses as possible, players often build large packs of them, and often they don't build that many shield generators as defense or emergency firewalls.

Can you see the problem and can you see why this came in my mind as a perfect analogy for An-Hassts psyche ?

Fae Wild (A RP with myself and Fetzen)

@Eviledd1984

"Afraid of the night, me ?" Some would have blushed, but for Madawc, the question was borderlining ludicrousness so hard that it actually managed to stop him from thinking about being angry. The half-demon laughed so intensive that his chubby belly started wobbling up and down. "You did notice that I volunteered for the watch last night, didn't you ? Why should riding at night be any more dangerous than that ? I'm being carried comfortably, that's all."

Rosa Clare Academy - Cryptid Haven and School of Learning 2.0

@Fetzen Bahahahaha you do always seem to start new pages! You want me to NPC the barn manager and kinda guide you through a riding test?

@Aspen Wren

That would be awesome :)

Rosa Clare Academy - Cryptid Haven and School of Learning 2.0

@Aspen Wren I hope I didn't open my personal Pandora's Box of unlimited lack of knowledge too wide with this post.

edit: What ? Why is it always me who starts new pages in OOCs ?

Rosa Clare Academy - Cryptid Haven and School of Learning 2.0

Asmund Gjanarsson

---

It was matter of a few seconds until the gifted had drawn much more attention than intended. The barn was a rather large one. It wasn't curious that despite the low progress the sun had made on its daily journey so far, several students were present taking care of some of the school's or their personal horses, heading out for a ride or already returning. His voice was an incredibly chesty one and Asmund still had frequent problems throttling it back to a perfectly normal volume. His brain was still configured for the old days when he had been a small boy in that respect... Now people were looking at him. That wasn't new, but new was that subtle expression in their faces: Is he really trying to do what I think he is trying to do ?

The Norse Gifted wasn't intimidated. Why should he ? It was just a small bunch of students staring at him. The amount of people that had been infected with the 'nickname-Asmund-a-monster'-disease wasn't neglectable and it constantly failed to provoke him to do anything to intimidate back as well. After all, he knew that it was meant in a positive way and it was undeniable that his stature indeed was an open invitation for such things. It became obvious once more when the barn manager approached him and had to stop a few feet away. Otherwise he would have had the choice between buying himself pain in the neck by steeply looking upwards or only seeing Asmund's belly button. Was there a slight sound of chuckling in the room ?

"Hey! What can I do for you ?" The manager stretched out his hand for a greeting.
"I'd like to ask if I could ride one of the school's horses. I've done this many times back in my youth."
Another wave of chuckling crossed their part of the barn, this time a bit less restrained.
The barn manager took a much more analytical approach, stretching the duration of his next exhale to gain some time for thinking and scratching his head. "You know I'm obligated to test anyone before I can allow this ?"
"Erm... will that be a problem ?" He was absolutely confident in his ability to pass through anything that could be coming. Yet his question was marked with humbleness in both wording and tone.
"That depends on you. Follow me."

The mounting block was lazily nudged into place by foot. In front of the manager and his student was standing a mount that was large even by draft standards. The gifted's feet wouldn't drag on the ground when sitting on this impressive animal of gray-white coat color, though Asmund certainly wasn't too small to get up using the stirrup easily. In fact, it had more to do with the mentor's worries that the thing could snap when his apprentice would use it for that. Him dangling from one side like a giant, helpless crab was just bound to be displeasing for everyone involved.

Luckily, none of these things happened. The horse groaned noticeably under the monster's weight, but if, between his long hair and his beard, there was decent knowledge about how to control himself up there and how to keep things relaxed at the reigns, it would be within the upper end of the acceptable range.

The manager wanted to inspect Asmund's seat first. To do this, he lead them slowly onto a path that would run along the training fields later on. That was... if those fields would still be actual fields and not been turned into burnt-out blast pits when they arrived.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

<Snipped quote by BCTheEntity>

It's genius! I can't wait for him to stroll onto the battlefield in light silks and go full Conan!

@The Fated Fallen

While the real Conan-type figure aka "An Asshat" (bad rumours state that his real name is "An-Hasst"... how daring!) is standing outside xD He isn't wearing conventional armor either :D

Phantasm

The destruction of private property is the proper, customary greeting in any bar.

@potatochipgolem

*adds item to his to-do-list once his character is in Eurasha*

Given the stature of the Knight of Earth, it could work I guess.

Phantasm

Greg couldn't help but to inspect the mug instead of consuming its liquid content. This design was something he had not encountered before, neither in his home state nor along the many routes he had already traveled in his life. With curiosity in his eyes, he consumed the beverage. It was so quick that one could raise the suspicion that he had done this because now he could turn and twist the copper mug without any restraint. Indeed he did.

A band started to play, something he either had missed right from the beginning or while he had been sitting here with his face turned away from the main room behind him. It didn't reduce the pleasant effect of music overlaying the increasing amount of chatting going on. The bar clearly was filling up. Instinctively, Greg started humming and subtly seesawing with his feet in alignment to the rhythm.

"No thanks I..." The blonde was disrupted by a rather worrying creaking noise emanating from beneath him. Now that he had changed his posture the old wooden chair was strained even more than before. "I don't want anything else, thank you."