Avatar of Fetzen

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Recent Statuses

11 days ago
Current If you don't have a clue, you can still resort to glue in order to fix things.
3 likes
12 days ago
IBANs have proven not to be annoying enough. Let's kill both metric and imperial systems by expressing everything in Planck units.
1 like
20 days ago
Where's a whip, there's a way!
1 like
2 mos ago
I don't know where to even start when it comes to just how ruined my weekend has just become.
1 like
2 mos ago
Having jaw ache due to a lymphatic node swelling ain't fun.
2 likes

Bio


Welcome to my profile page!


Who the hell is this person behind those many miles of fiber optics and copper cable ?

  • I'm a 34 year old guy.
  • ... who's working as a software developer
  • ... and enjoys roleplaying as a casual hobby to distract himself from ongoing stress


And into which hell will I descend with you participating in one of my roleplays?

  • I'm a fantasy addict: medieval high and low!
  • I'd consider myself to be a low casual roleplayer, 3 paragraphs per post on average.
  • My schedule varies. It might happen that I won't be able to post at all for a week, but then again it might happen that I'll reach a sweet spot inside which I can go on a posting rampage. I'd say one can expect 1-2 posts a week from me, depending on the lengths involved.
  • English is not my native language, but so far I've not encountered anyone who had had trouble with me over that :)


Want to RP with me ? Shoot me a PM, but don't shoot me!



Thanks for visiting!

Most Recent Posts

Vodilic


Interesting... was a not even remotely adequate judgement for the situation at hand, at least not in Vodilic's thoughts as he was guided into the very throne room of not only this great but miserable city, but the entiry continent so to speak. Since when exactly was it common practice to take a bunch of seemingly random prisoners from the dungeons and to allow their dirty feet to touch the noble ground here ? Normally the first and last time those saw the king was when the latter wanted to surveil the proceeding of his executioners or when he wanted to demonstrate something to those he ruled over. Weren't things supposed to be that way ?

The very feeling of the cold stone beneath his still naked feet gave Vodilic a weird impression. Yes, the stone in the dungeons was cold as well, but the ground here wasn't wet. It was a comfortable, refreshing coolness that this building emitted -- probably caused by its sheer size and massivity. One successful heist in any of those rooms here probably could end any thief's career, simply because there was no need to steal anymore if one already had anything. To make things even more weird it did not slip the man's attention that a set of tables with an obscene amount of food on them had been arranged for them and that exactly the same guards that usually would have been all to happy to use their halberds now apparently had been temporarily demoted to humble servants having to get some chairs...

Still, as the king started speaking, the first thing that came to Vodilic's mind was to pick up the equipment that had been laid out so neatly for him. Even the amount of cleaning that obviously had taken place could not cover up the fact that the leather had seen its best days already, but without it Vodilic simply felt somewhat naked. Even in the most desperate of situations it could make a difference he simply thought, so Vodilic was quick to put it on no matter what. And now to the grand meal...

The chair groaned in protest as a giant's amount of weight was put onto it, but at least it didn't break in front of everyone's eyes as Vodilic sat down and arranged himself properly. He reached for the wine, but the moment the fluid had almost reached the point of no return into the bottle Vodilic abruptly stopped his movements.

What if this is some sick kind of test for a new kind of poison they've cooked up recently ? I could be dead, lying on the floor with cramps with everyone watching with a sadistic grin...

The thought lastest for a mere few seconds. If this was some kind of test intended to result in their death it was pretty much unavoidable anyway. And speaking of theirs... As Vodilic continued to pour the contents of the bottle into the goblet he turned his head to take a look at those who had come with him. Just a few minutes ago he hardly could have cared less about those others who had been condemned to rot in the same dungeon, but now it seemed they were bound to form some kind of bond. For a reason unknown to them that was, at least so far...

Starting to chew away at the hen, Vodilic greedily waited for more information to come. That king better started to continue talking soon... And that woman with the green scarf next to him hopefully would start keeping her loose mouth shut before she'd completely screw up. He really was no friend of their 'host', but she talked as if she was the landlady here.

"Get your feet off... Now!" Vodilic had taken the time to swallow before speaking so his words would be as clear as possible -- and slightly threatening. Yes, he would probably not admit it, but while internally criticizing her for her behavior he too was on the verge of drifting into the very habits that had got him here in the first place.
At this point An-Hasst couldn't help but let go of a subtle smirk. Speak that big guy's language ? Well that was a task that could be achieved. The remainder of the party, unless knowing the giant's tongue to at least a similar degree as the Skayleigh did, would not be able to understand the strange words their half-giant member was speaking out now:

"I do not intend to join a wolf pack while not being a wolf, so the only way your parable can be applied to the current situation is by interpreting it in a way that it's only about the intrusion of the wolf pack's territory. While this is undeniably true for my case I still would like to interject something: The clever wolf pack, those whose members are capable of higher level thinking instead of being purely dependent on more or less primal instincts, could see the improved efficiency of a single dog trying to extract one of his own kind out of their territory instead of the whole pack doing the job itself."

It was by far not perfect, but should be more than sufficient in terms of grammar and wording for the stone giant to understand properly. Having said this, An-Hasst quickly jumped onto an elevated position from which he could see more of the area that laid ahead of the party.

"And you are a clever individual, aren't you ?" The question did not lack that certain indication that it meant merely rhethorically, but still it was a bit of a challenge. One whose outcome the Skayleigh obviously was not willing to await as he jumped off the rock at breakneck speed. After all he also was half elf and felt that degree of compassion for his colleague who had quite possibly maneuvered himself into so much trouble by now...

An-Hasst started to follow the maze of rocks, periodically calling out for Calanon's name.

@The Fated Fallen@POOHEAD189@BCTheEntity@Gardevoiran@IcePezz@Mortarion
Týfurkh


"Alright..." Týfurkh replied. Just by carefully listening to his words one could already get the impression that his attention was already being gathered elsewhere. "I hope I don't need to tell anyone that you need to protect us while I am delivering this message. Just in case..." He made a few steps back away from the edge of the platform, as far as the presence of the huge bells allowed. Adding one or two meters to the few kilometers the message would have to travel would hardly make a difference, but being seen from downside or not very well could.

The tower's height proved to be perfect for their plan. The city walls were no match for its height, any signal intended to reach out far enough could travel over them unhindered. Also there were no other buildings visible that could get anyone else in its way, so it also was pretty safe to assume that nobody else could be eavesdropping. Though, honestly, trying to eavesdrop from this near would have made one's ears burst in blood probably. In order to overcome several kilometers of atmospheric damping Týfurkh had to shout very, very loud.

"Hear thee not, the sweet whispers of Kaspar, ..."

None of Týfurkh's companions would be able to hear anything, and neither would any of the cultists that had managed to follow them undetected.

"... lest you take his place when Samiel, ..."

One could see sweat burst out not only along Týfurkh's forehead and cheeks, but also among the major part of his upper body. As he continued with the last part of the messages he also started to turn rather pale.

"... the Black Huntsman comes to collect him."

Done! The giant man stumbled backwards and hit one of the bells. It nearly was moved enough to make the clapper hit the inner walls, but luckily it remained silent.

"Give me a few moments please. This was quite... exhausting." and he continued to breathe heavily, having no idea that their enemies were approaching as he was speaking. Týfurkh started to reattach the straps of his armor he had undone previously with slightly shaking hands as he was leaning against the bell. He could see the entrace of the narrow stairwell they had come through, but nobody was to be seen yet. "Now that our primary objective has been achieved I'm wondering if we should to return with stealth as well or if we should just try to make a run for it as fast as possible. I'm open to both strategies, to be honest..."
Well first of all, just remember that you can definitely die for doing stupid things, @Fetzen.

Second, it occurs to me as I prepare my post this round that Stormflyx didn't post at all in the last round, and that she hasn't actually been online in the last 13 days. I hope she's alright, is basically it.


Well like said, non-seriously. I am fully aware of the leeroy-ness of provocative answers :

And the same thing occurred to me as well... :/
I'm non-seriously wondering what the most inadequate answer of An-Hasst could be in order to heat up the situation. What do you think about the following:

"Okay, so let me tell you something:. I might be a mongrel of the noble race of wood elves and living giants. You however, I'm afraid, are merely a mongrel of minerals. Aeons old, shattered, rearranged and aggregated by the tides of water and geology again and again. You are an impure, polycristalline, partly maybe even amorphous pile of rubble that happens to have a considerable size as of now, but one that can only diminish as the time you are forced to witness goes by. I, however, am monolithic. Grown according to a delicate plan, not assembled out of pure randomness."
Vadym had a not so comfortable time trying to evade the almost ubiquitous amount of dirt that was lying on the streets, rotting and waiting to be dilitued and washed into the sea with the next rain. That dress of him had not been that cheap after all, but never was it in so much danger than in a town like this. The mage almost considered using some kind of spell to alleviate the task, but what would the people around him say ? According to his experience by far not every commoner was open-minded with regard to such things, especially in regions where education was a more rare thing to be seen.

Still Vadym made it, only his shoes had turned into a pile of mud. Carefully and with eyes wide open he knocked against the door, hoping that someone was still there to respond.




In the meantime some strange happened near Port Vale's only church... Just like with many other sacred buildings people had not been hesitant to attach weird looking statues to them. Grotesque creatures of fantasy that looked horrifying, but actually were meant to demoralize and scare away evil spirits. Those arts of work were meant to cling to the walls forever, but unknown to most people very few of them didn't. Now the night was coming and one of them separated itself from the high spire it once had been mounted on. A hulking beast that didn't come crashing down since it unfolded giant wings, now gliding through the dark skies with almost disturbing silence. It would try to roam around the streets this night, trying to find out more about its environment.


Vodilic Hadayn

Level 1: (Strong-arm, apprentice)
Currency: 9 bits
Ammunition: 0
Armor: +3
Status: -

"The solution to the immovable object and the unstoppable force paradox ? Them being the same thing!"

Vodilic
Outer district


Torril Morvayn was what could probably be described best as a mildly important figure among the criminal societies of Guillan. His motives most likely were the same mixture of primitivity, egoism and thrall-like obedience to whomever was secretly pulling the strings as they were with many others of similar rank, but at least so far he had been reliable in terms of payment and his information trustworthy. If not Vodilic, in chronic need of additional funds, would not have accepted yet another... let's say 'task'... of him. Said task was about delivering a message, but the message would involve enough of a crime to get any perpetrator behind iron bars if caught. However, according to Torril, the receiver would be out of home this evening and busying himself on a party.

The sun had already settled below the horizon, the remaining dim reddish glow was not enough to illuminate the streets. A rather chill wind was underway, so not many people were left out here. The majority of them apparently had already prepared for the night and was at home, but not so that semi-rich, allegedly quite arrogant snob whose house Vodilic was about to break in. There was no light to be seen behind any of the windows and no other activity to be seen around it. For moments Vodilic wondered if he should try to climb up to that opulent balcony, but considering how many workers might have died already by falling off ladders during its construction he abandoned the idea.

The much more simple solution was the main door. There was the chance of some passer-by spotting the tiny bits of damage that would be caused by Vodilic's method of getting inside, but given the poor illumination it was only a very slight risk preferable to breaking one of the windows. With that certain, satisfying snap the door's lock gave way to the brute force applied via the iron bar lodged into the seam between the door and its frame. Vodilic, having to duck in the process, slipped in and slanted a small stool against it in order to keep it closed at all times again. Now was the time to see what he had at hand here...

The most immediate observation: Richness. The desk alone was so decorated with inlaid work and shiny metal fittings that it must have cost more than an average dock worker could afford in several months. It would make an excellent platform for the message, so Vodilic gently placed the folded piece of parchment he had been given by Torril onto it and secured it with the bronze paperweight. The plan was for this to be the only piece of written stuff to survive this evening. The victim whose house he just had broken into was a tradesman, someone who had to keep record of what was in stock, what was to be bought, what had just been sold, who was working for him and countless other things. What could be more devastating than obliterating some of those ? The ordinary blackmailing job was to get in and wreak havoc upon every piece of equipment inside, but Vodilic liked the cleverness of this different approach. It was silent, efficient and would allow him to snatch away whatever he could make fit into his pockets.

The first task was to reignite the fire in the chimney, an issue that was greatly alleviated by the fact that there were still some embers left from hours before. Like said, it was a cold evening... Then Vodilic started searching the drawers, cabinets and other containers for the things to burn. In order to save time he didn't look at them, but just fed them into the flames right away. Trying to check if the plethora of numbers and words on them was relevant information to be destroyed or not would just give him a headache anyway, just burning everything suspicious was much easier. It would get rather hot in here.

Then, with Vodilic already having reached the second floor, a creaking noise could be heard. Vodilic's ears told him that it was not one of the floorboards suffering under his weight. He twisted his head in order to look downstairs and could only watch in horror that it was the stool rubbing against the entrance door. It was forced open from outside and a man whose general body shape clearly had seen better days entered the building among with two other, armed persons.

Instincs told Vodilic to try and jump out of the next window and make a run for it, but he barely was able to slow down in time in order not to jump. There were more people outside and they too were armed.

"Ohh how cute. Thanks that you already have arranged for a comfortable temperature in here Vat... Vod... Vodilic ? Is that your name ? Well neither I'm sure nor do I care so I'll just call you cuddle bear if that's okay for you ? That party really was disappointing from the very beginning so I decided to leave early. Or no... wait... that was yesterday! Today I just left in order for you to come in!"

The man burst into a bit of laughter that would have raised Vodilic's anger level even if he had not just been realizing that he had been set up. He shoved his chubby frame over towards the fireplace, bent down and pulled out a piece of parchment that had not yet completely incinerated.

"Let's see what we have here. Trade records from... like 10 years ago ? Good luck that I've been so lazy about cleaning up my archive, certainly don't need this anymore do I ?"

Vodilic stared at the tradesman's stubby fingers as he used them to crumple the piece of parchment and toss it back into the flames.

"Thanks for disposing of this crap! Maybe I should have waited a few more minutes but my colleagues became nervous." The tradesman patted the shoulder of the armed man standing next to him, putting up a nasty smile while the other maintained his quite disciplined grimace. Vodilic was about to say something, but the tradesman who identified himself as Garan raised his index finger as an indication not to say anything.

"Now you're certainly wondering what has happened. Well... let's say this beautiful city works like a giant set of gears. Big ones turn the smaller ones, but without the smaller ones the whole thing would come to a grinding halt as well. Now unfortunately this set of gears suffers from a slight error: Some of those smaller gears hang so low that, as they turn, their teeth touch the ground and dig up dirt and pieces of sand. They either don't realize that this is dangerous for the entire machine or they can't change much about their situation anyway. Most of this dirt and sand drops off in time, but some pieces get sucked in and start to annoy. Pieces like you. And the small gear I'm talking about is your brave master Torril who stopped asking critical questions the moment he was confronted with a sufficient amount of coins. I guess he doesn't even know that his very latest contract was a trap for one of his employees and that the one contacting him was my loyal secretary. Now please do me the favor and arrest this cuddle bear. The machine must continue to turn!"

The armed men had waited halfway partiently so far, but now all three of them rushed up the stairs while those waiting outside around the place continued to stand by. Even Vodilic could see that it would be lethal to try and resist against this summoning without solid armament on his own side. This bootlicker of Garan must have called for the entirity of his low-cost private guards that usually protected his warehouse. They put Vodilic in chains and forced him to walk towards the castle, Garan accompanying the bunch of men along the whole way. He appeared to have enough authority to claim that Vodilic had broken into his house and tried to sabotage him.

A not so comfortable cell awaited Vodilic. The ceiling was a tad too low for him to stand completely upright, but there was a rich supply of water seeping in from various places. There was no such thing as a bed, just a pile of hay for him to sleep on. The question was what would come next for him: Just this or a trial ? An uncomfortable, tingling sensation started to appear around Vodilic's neck.
Is there something like an annual fair where people would pay a slice or so for having them tossed as far as possible back into the crowd or into a pond of water? Just in case Vodilic needs to pick up a second job ;-)
Sooo, please tell me where I've done totally wrong!
And sorry for the long-ish delay...



(edited Fiery Heart skill, 21.06.2019)
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