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POV: Viera Versul
Dhadan Forest, County of Dunric



The strange psionic energy resounded in a thundering ‘crack’, sending three of the tallest pines at the edge of the forest to splinter before being sent hurling at the two combatants. Viera blinked for a moment, distracted by the event for a brief second despite knowing very well that her attention should have remained on her opponent. Her father’s stern voice echoed in her mind, lecturing her to be aware of her surroundings and be mindful of her opponent.

That’s not norm—

She could feel her body twinge in pain as she took a swift punch to the stomach before she felt her body being grappled before it plummeted to the ground. She knew without her guard to protect the strange girl Marlowe wanted to protect that the white-haired orderling was going to be back to chasing her down. As the cracking of the timber indicated the trees were nearly on her made her cringe in anticipation of what was to come. She would not be able to dodge in time.

Infinity help me.


POV: Grifor Lathil // Lathilos
Dhadan Forest, County of Dunric



“Are you going to let the trees crush her, father?”

The young voice sent shivers into Grifor’s mind as he shook his head. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.

The old man sighed— he should’ve used this to capitalize but he couldn’t. He scowled as he pushed forward as he spun his hammer around before slamming it against the bark of the psionically enhanced trees.
CLNNK!

Grifor gritted his teeth as he put all of his aura and body into it— bracing his back, shoulders, and hammer against the falling trees. The girl should’ve been more aware of her environment, but she was but a child and this war of theirs was new to her despite several months of accompanying that fool Marlowe. She would learn, he was sure, he had no wish of her to meet such a dishonorable fate. As his eyes moved left he nearly couldn’t believe the irony; he had not been the only one to brace the girl from the psionically-charged trees as evident from the sight of Marlowe who had done the same exact action as him. Their intentions were likely different, but their honor was the same. In the thick of it, Lathilos let out a chuckle at the sheer irony of the situation.

Marlowe narrowed his brows before he called out to her, “Viera!”

“Move!” Grifor shouted as he struggled against the weight of

As the cyan-haired female moved out of way of the falling trees, he gave Marlowe a look as he put all of his energy back into the shoulders and hammer in a quick push to throw the trees back. If Marlowe had any sense he would’ve done the same so they could’ve gone back to their confrontation on equal footing.
I'll take a look but I still have a bit to finish CS-wise and post-wise as far as RPG stuff goes.
No problem, feel free to hit me up sometime for other RP shenanigans. Liked hanging out with you guys.

POV: Grifor Lathil // Lathilos
Dhadan Forest, County of Dunric



“Delios! It’s an r—”

The older orderling was honestly a bit surprised— in the last two years he had known Jacques he had seen a cynical, bloodthirsty, inane, and vicious man but he had never seen him be this insufferably stupid. It was clear that Marlowe’s attack that very well might have costed him his left eye was something that would’ve caused many to be driven to adrenaline-pounding rage but this… this was on a whole new level. The smaller man had dashed into the woods as soon as the naïve boy had baited him and even his own warning had done absolute nothing to stop his insistence on rushing headfirst into danger. Danger that he personally believed was a ruse. Marlowe was a fool, but he wasn’t inept and despite all of their differences respected the lengths he would go in battle to achieve his own personal victory. Had they known each other at different circumstances he could see himself admiring his tenacity rather than finding it annoying.

It was always amusing how things turned out.

But chasing after Jacques was not his intention. He had wasted too much time to babysit a grown ass man and if he wasn’t willing to follow orders he was more than willing to let Marlowe kill him. He shook his head as he turned toward the direction of the tracks leading out of the forest appeared to be taking.

No rest for the wicked.

He picked up the pace. It was time to get moving.


POV: Jacques Deli // Delios
Dhadan Forest, County of Dunric



With rifle in hand, Jacques dashed through the shrubbery of the woodlands towards the directions of his target— his hunt. He knew the “old man” wanted to get on with the mission, but blood had been spilled and it needed to be returned in kind. There were no conclusions to be made elsewise and if his partner really wanted to capture the freak with mind powers then he could do it with the new girl and leave him to brutalize Marlowe. He didn’t care as long as he got what he wanted.

However, he didn’t expect to be confronted with the sight of three vharn’s coming at him with the same intensity he had for Marlowe— and like a deer caught in the path of a winding train his brain stopped for a second as he caught the sight of a blood-smeared tree to his right. He had ran right into harm’s way… right into Marlowe’s trap. How could such an imbecile be capable of thinking like a hunter? Jacques gritted his teeth as he dug his feet into the ground before he jumped onto the back of the first vharl; stomping into the creature's spine as he did so causing it to howl in annoyed pain.

This wasn’t his first rodeo and if he had not been so infuriated he would’ve been flattered that Marlowe setup a trap that was so nostalgic. He remembered how he had been raised and trained northeast of Dunral in the Noirdeces Forest, right past the border that stretched into the mountainous highlands of Srivakia where the creatures of the bog mingled with the creatures of the hills. It brought him back to his father’s contest to him— that either he died like an animal or he survived like a hunter. A contest that his father had brought to each of his children: survive alone in the stretch of wilderness with nothing but your wits and your gear for thirty days. No outside help. No quitting. Do or die.

Three vharl’s? Please. He survived a wyvern nest when he was twelve. This was going to be like walking in the park.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy did you?!” He snarled before he flicked the trigger of his rifle.

He wasn’t done. He refused to be done. He clicked the trigger again before leaping off the back of the creature and grabbing onto a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree with his right arm before making up the tree and turning to aim at the creatures that were charging the tree.

The same blood-stained tree that Marlowe had marked.

I guess I'll start packing my things then. D:
Don't have much room to complain if they dropped out without notice. God knows I wouldn't be mad in the same shoes.

POV: Viera Versul
Dhadan Forest, County of Dunric



Viera slammed down her sword into the mud, a large pulse of aura surging from it as it connected— her feet digging down as her enemy jumped backwards to avoid being knocked down. Viera held out her hands in her central martial arts stance, the first “sword” of Karai and the one best fitting for her situation due to the fact she needed to react to what her enemy threw at her rather than strike; a philosophy she was very familiar in at this point in her life.

The white-haired girl was skilled in the aura arts, she could tell before they even met fist to fist. The way this new orderling moved was fast and potent; even if Viera had been blinded she would’ve been able to feel her sheer presence and by the potency of her aura she could tell she had a lot of it, but that came naturally to her given the talents of her clan and the culture she was raised in— the aura arts were her life and the entire thing that kept Derim unified rather than ending up like these outland nations that descended into fits of greed, warring philosophy, forced ideaologies, and gluttonous overgrowth. To find an opponent this skilled in spiritual energy was amazing and had she not been her enemy there could’ve been so much they could be teaching one another. But such thoughts would have to be discared in the face of this fight and she knew her idle fascination couldn’t be allowed to distract her as she could tell that fighting her would be tough and considering she was still alone on the field of battle that she would have to fight smart.

That’s when her enemy pushed at her quickly, her martial arts stance reminded her of—


”Viera!”

Viera gritted her teeth as she was flung back into the hull of an overturned metal tub from the blow from the female orderling in front of her. She didn’t know her name but all she knew was she was part of the trio of enemies she found herself against— a trio comprised of Rin Chiyuhato, Marlowe's former friend and two other women. Marlowe’s scream in the distance was cut off by more guttural sounds as his former friend tossed him through the tavern that they were in.

“You should know better Marlowe.” Rin nonchalantly commented with a yawn, Viera’s eyes on the orange-haired woman in front of her. “You couldn’t beat me when I wasn’t with The Order, so… c’mon. Don’t be a moron.”

Suddenly there was a voice coming from the bar— a man with a longcoat and long disheveled black hair. “Can you not?”

The three orderlings took a confused glance towards the man. Viera cursed herself, she wasn’t going to be able to help him when they pounced on him and she also knew Marlowe had just gotten tossed around to the point he wouldn’t be fast enough either. Whoever the man had been, he had just commented on the wrong thing at the wrong time; he had pretty much dug himself into an early grave. So many innocent people had died from The Order and for someone to get involved at this moment was pretty much the worst idea someone could do. Who was he? Was he drunk?

“Excuse me, what?” The orange-haired girl inquired with a raised brow.

“You’re kind of ruining my drink.” He took a step up from the stool before turning towards them. “So can you guys take it outside?, you guys are being kind of rude.”

Viera attempted to push herself to her feet— yeah, whoever this guy was he had just reached the bottom of the last bottle he was ever going to drink. She had to try to do something. She knew the patience The Order had for people, especially when they had attitudes to go along with their stupidity. Marlowe had gotten his teeth kicked in more times than she could count and she hadn’t even known him all that long.

Alfiros rolled her eyes. “Just kill the stupid drunk.”

“Heh.”


—she smirked as she prepared herself. She could build a strategy around a martial art she was famillar with, especially when she saw it in action nearly every day for the better half of four months. A thought came to her as she clashed with the female orderling— Marlowe should have caught up with them by now, so where was he?


POV: Jacques Deli // Delios
Dhadan Forest, County of Dunric



“Hey Marlowe! Just come out please, it’s not going to be all that bad! I’m just going to gouge out your eyes!”

As evident by the howl of Jacques’ voice, Marlowe had unfortunately came to the realization that his little “friend” had caught up with him and was ready to give him comeuppance— so he was a little busy. After all of his years honing his craft and knowing his surroundings to avoid critical injuries to be blind-sighted by a barely competent punk with a saber was infuriating. Perhaps it was his naturally ornery nature, but he could feel a fuel of adrenaline, hate, pain, and pure unadulterated hatred fill his body. In his gut he knew he couldn’t hurt Marlowe for long given his particular “condition” but boy did he feel like he was going to try if he got his hands on him. The image of him slamming his foot on his throat as he bashed his rifle through his teeth before firing until he emptied his ammunition flashed in his mind; a fantasy so euphoric that he licked his lips as blood continued to drip down the wound that only a few moments ago was his left eye.

He could hear the grumble of his “commanding officer” as the older, larger man slammed his hammer at the base of a tree— sending it flying down.

Normally he would be chasing down his target and letting old man Grif do the bulk of the work with Marlowe, but for the first time in his career in this cult of theirs he was distracted so much to the point that he didn’t care about his original fixation and target. He didn’t care about it at all.

Because he had a new one.
I second that, Angel is at the mercy of that Primordial for a month or so now. If she's not going to react, what's the point?

Just carry on without them or NPC the situation?




P R E M I S E
Hollow Stone is a anthropomorphic post-apocalyptic roleplaying concept where you take the role of a individual who serves as a new or veteran "slave" under a group of organized raiders called The Terror. Hollow Stone borrows from concepts from the "escape from dystopia" cinematic/literary genre as well as the Fallout game franchise. The atmosphere and pacing is that of a character-driven story of hopelessness, despair, anxiety, and ultimately survival at the surprising end of the day as spirits rise. Players will embody this as they take the role in a work and procurement camp run by aggressive bandits who only serve their own means.

W O R L D
The World is the planet Aegis, a fractured version of what the world once was as large metropolitan areas were destroyed, military factories were fractured, and large towns were buried. What happened is uncertain, but largely irrelevant as what is important is the lands that are today's Aegis. Throughout the years the lands changed and undergrowth flourished as the secondary species evolved to take a new to this world. Humanity is dead, and it's history is a foreign language that nobody can comprehend. The world's animals took shape and rose from their environments due to the tampering the end of the world provided. Foxes, Wolves, Raccoon, Cats, Lizards, and other species rose from their home to a world of scattered remains and constructed civilization from its ruin.

Old world technology is scattered and contained by those with power, the only bits of it there that are commonplace are firearms that have been re-purposed or re-engineered. New world engineers are always working around the clock to understand more about the old world and few have understanding of the idiosycrancies of automated mechs, stationary turrets, and other such technologies; and most of them are held with an iron fist by factions such as The Dominion. People who have a symbiotic relationship with these engineers are called "world seekers" and fulfill a scavenger/salvager's role. These people hunt for old world tech and leads on any answers to their complicated workings, however the world is dangerous and these seekers find many difficulties to survive.

The known world is surrounded by mountains, craters, and what the population calls "wasteland" that sickens the people who travel there and ultimately kills them from simple contact. These cases of wasteland explorers have scared the majority of the masses that they are best surviving where they are. In the western regions there stands an extremely large desert and to the north lies a coastline that contains one of the few unburied/lost metropolitan cities, however it is controlled by tyrants and their extremely talented engineers. Then there is the west, an area of high hills, plains, rivers, and mountain valleys. This is the "free world" and in a sense it isn't inherently incorrect.

F A I T H
Primitive worlds are superstitious and this one is no different. Whispers of ghosts, magic, and monsters are commonplace. But what is real? Magic does exist in Aegis, but it exists in light magic conventions in the form of people called ghosts. Ghosts are people like the rest of the new world, but they have a hyper-evolved niche that can be described as magic.

Depending on the "mutation" that has been evolved through the old world's weapons and environment, these ghosts can do a number of things. Those born with fire can control their body heat and are bred to the center of the desert frontier to the west, they live and strive because of their ability to tolerate the harsh night's climate and the most talented of them can control their magic beyond simple uses.

Fire Ghosts have internal control of body heat and advanced users can burn their enemies flesh through simple touch, Light Ghosts have internal control of their visibility in daytime and advanced users can have short-term complete invisibility, Air Ghosts have internal control of their breathing and advanced users can restrict breathing completely in no-oxygen environments, Water Ghosts have internal control of blood movement and advanced users can refuse water into their body making them optimal to survive underwater. These are some example of ghosts and their typical ability and then their ability through advanced ability or mastery. If you have any thoughts on this let me know if I need to expand it or you have an idea for other types of ghosts.

F A C T I O N S
The Dominion: The Dominion are the big bad guys of the world as they are the most advanced and the most ingenious. They are located alongside the large northern coastline called "aegia" from the few signs they have deciphered. They have one of the most practical understanding of the old world languages and have some idea of the history but only in the most basic form. Their headquarters is a metropolitan area that they have locked down through reforged walls, automated mechs, and turret control. The people born under these "highborn" are either in poverty or in decency. Few are in luxury and those people run things control the engineering caste as well as have the army on their side. This is a dictatorship and it isn't not nice to live in and to escape is a challenge but it is freedom.

Faith: Faith is the Hope of the north, right out of the Terror's domain. The town is run by the people and instill a strong public militia. They are on high guard but whilst cautious seem generally well-meaning enough. They have talented defensive forces and this is noted as a small school of personal defense is situated in the city itself.

Hope: Hope is a loose city-state much similar to Fallout's "Megaton", but without the giant nuclear bomb. It's a town run by the people and the enforcer's they elect. Loose trade between The Terror keeps the biggest bandits away from them and as thus they generally only have to worry about smaller bandit collectives. They have third-rate engineers and they have many who aspire to make it big as seekers. A small school of engineering is situated in the city itself, but what they know is kids stuff compared to The Dominion.

The Kingdom of Arnak: The Kingdom of Arnak is a feudalistic sub-kingdom that exists somewhere in the mountains to the northeast, virtually unknown to the entire world the kingdom has no interest in expanding or finding out about the rest of the world due to general mutants, monsters, and wasteland that surrounds them and has killed their champions. They still occasionally send champions out to find the "old gods" and whatever artifacts they left for them, but none have ever found way back home if they did make it to the fields and valleys of where our roleplay takes place. The kingdom also is afraid of firearms, old and new; feeling they are demonic and one of the weapons of the one's who defeated the old gods; so this creates Arnak as a kingdom that focuses on post-modern feudal weapons. Crossbows, Longbows, Swords, Lances, Pikes, Spears, and Shields have been re-purposed to work better through contact with mutants of all shapes and sizes. One of their best weapons is the guardian-class crossbow (similar to the one in Van Helsing).

The League of Avalon: The League is one of the major powers and the parallel to The Dominion; settled west of the settlements of Hope, the League of Avalon sits on the edge of the Necrosis against the southernmost mountains. Like The Dominion they have a strong understanding of the old world languages and technology; and they exploit this fact. While not tyrannical in the "invasion" sense, Avalon is led by a theocratic church and their word is the law in their district. Led by a religious council; the Avalon people find themselves frightened about the “big scary world that is out there”. Between propaganda and matter-of-the-fact news, they do not want to leave their city unless they are among the select few the church deems worthy to search for old world artifacts and information; these people are part of a sub-church organization called The Vanguard of Truth. The church will train those born (or have proven worthy) in becoming such, but it becomes a chaste and zealous lifestyle. The League of Avalon allows immigrants but they are heavily mandated and debated if they are worthy into letting into the League for citizenship by the council.

The Terror: The Terror is the cliché-named organization that employs skilled bandits, hunters, raiders, slavers, and fourth-rate engineers. Formed near one-hundred years ago by Kaz Kimezi with the intent to push out competing slavers, raiders, and bandits by unifying the bulk of them under one foot—his. While The Terror to this day is not the only name in the criminal industry of which they are known for—eastward from the edge of the Necrosis and underneath the northern Terramurum they reign supreme as the largest. Settled primarily in the Umbrapositus Valley they operate with extreme force and surprising competence.

R U L E S
I. This is a character-driven roleplay that ventures due to character decisions while there is plot events this thing will progress as far as you want to take it.

II. Character types that are proven badasses or masters of escapology aren't ones I'll be looking to accept, this is about the conditions and the escape and the survival unless as a group we decide we want to avert the plot elsewhere.

III. Be as active as the players around you whether we're posting bi-weekly or daily or monthly.

IV. No god-modding, powerplaying, blah blah you know the drill. Regular guild rules apply.

V. Honor the rules and conventions of the magic system if you are to create a ghost, its a very low magic style so NOBODY will be a dragon breathing fire or blasting fireballs like he's the best sorcerer to walk on Aegis. You dig?
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