I'm down for this. Would be playing a Gearhead.
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STATUS: Going to a festival fellas! So for the coming week I won't be able to post. 7 yrs ago- Last Seen: 2 mos ago
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7 yrs ago
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Going to a festival fellas! So for the coming week I won't be able to post.
7 yrs ago
When you marathon Rick & Morty S2 and expected laughs but the ending just slaps you in the face...
7 yrs ago
School's in full "consume all his time"-mode so no posts for just a lil longer. Sorry folks! I promise I'll make up for it in the weekend!
7 yrs ago
Going to take a small break on most of my RPs for maybe a week or so.
8 yrs ago
Not near an actual keyboard until 21/06
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Ryleth was approaching the clearing quickly. There was little time to spare. If Phagora arrived before he could finish his business his entire plan would collapse. The witch was powerful but utterly unguided. You couldn’t tell her not to do something. It was impossible. In fact it was the reason why a child had died. But Ryleth wasn’t about to play the blame game. In the end it was his presence that pushed the witches over the edge. Without him the raid would never have happened. So in a way, while he never hurt a child directly he most certainly held some of the blame. In a way, because of him Angela had died. Now he wouldn’t let six other witches perish. He touched the saddlebag next to him, to reassure himself that the phylacteries were all still there.
The Nightmare stopped at a ridge overlooking the clearing. No doubt the witch standing guard would have felt the dark creature's presence already. However now they would no doubt see it’s bright, unnatural red eyes within the darkness. Ryleth dismounted and took five phylacteries from another saddlebag. They were far less ornate as those he had taken out of the crate yet still bore intricate runes chiseled into the delicate crystal. He uncorked each one of the phials. With a howl the phantom sealed within was unleashed in the form of a pale, white cloud gas flying erratically above its vessel. When all five were uncorked the phantoms took a fleeting, humanoid shape. All of them bowed.
“I give you purpose once more.” Ryleth said. “But tonight is different. “But tonight is different. It isn’t a battle. It isn’t a raid. It isn’t a slaughter. For once we are to play the savior.” The ghosts rose and looked at each other confused. “Down in the clearing, there are witches. Some will run. You capture them, alive, at any cost.”
The five spirits bowed once more before they collapsed in a gaseous state and flew into various directions. Ryleth released a sigh. Now the hard part would begin. He knew his servants would fulfill their duty. But could he say the same thing? He fought that doubt as he collected the phylacteries of his servants and placed them within the saddlebags again but he left them uncorked this time. So the spirit could return if required.
Minutes later he arrived at the clearing and dismounted his Nightmare again. With saddlebag in hand, he walked up the present witches. “Leader.” He made a courteous but small bow towards the head witch of the Coven. “I’m afraid I’m the herald of ill winds.”
“Alexina wants you dead.” Ryleth said. “Now she has found a way to kill you. Penitence. Three other witches will be coming soon with the same task. All three of us are bound by blood. You cannot fight me nor them. You know that. I have a solution though.” He held up one of the special, empty phylacteries. “Your body dies but the soul lives on so it can be given another form. I cannot promise you will not suffer but you will live. This is my offer.” Ryleth placed the phylactery on the grass before them and then took a step backward.
But the Warlock was no fool. In the past minutes, before he came down the ridge he had been weaving wards around him to protect him from magic. Almost all attacks would have to break through his arcane shields. Giving him ample time to react. Despite wanting to save them he did not trust these witches. Even though he considered them friends he refused to lower his guard.
The Nightmare stopped at a ridge overlooking the clearing. No doubt the witch standing guard would have felt the dark creature's presence already. However now they would no doubt see it’s bright, unnatural red eyes within the darkness. Ryleth dismounted and took five phylacteries from another saddlebag. They were far less ornate as those he had taken out of the crate yet still bore intricate runes chiseled into the delicate crystal. He uncorked each one of the phials. With a howl the phantom sealed within was unleashed in the form of a pale, white cloud gas flying erratically above its vessel. When all five were uncorked the phantoms took a fleeting, humanoid shape. All of them bowed.
“I give you purpose once more.” Ryleth said. “But tonight is different. “But tonight is different. It isn’t a battle. It isn’t a raid. It isn’t a slaughter. For once we are to play the savior.” The ghosts rose and looked at each other confused. “Down in the clearing, there are witches. Some will run. You capture them, alive, at any cost.”
The five spirits bowed once more before they collapsed in a gaseous state and flew into various directions. Ryleth released a sigh. Now the hard part would begin. He knew his servants would fulfill their duty. But could he say the same thing? He fought that doubt as he collected the phylacteries of his servants and placed them within the saddlebags again but he left them uncorked this time. So the spirit could return if required.
Minutes later he arrived at the clearing and dismounted his Nightmare again. With saddlebag in hand, he walked up the present witches. “Leader.” He made a courteous but small bow towards the head witch of the Coven. “I’m afraid I’m the herald of ill winds.”
“Alexina wants you dead.” Ryleth said. “Now she has found a way to kill you. Penitence. Three other witches will be coming soon with the same task. All three of us are bound by blood. You cannot fight me nor them. You know that. I have a solution though.” He held up one of the special, empty phylacteries. “Your body dies but the soul lives on so it can be given another form. I cannot promise you will not suffer but you will live. This is my offer.” Ryleth placed the phylactery on the grass before them and then took a step backward.
But the Warlock was no fool. In the past minutes, before he came down the ridge he had been weaving wards around him to protect him from magic. Almost all attacks would have to break through his arcane shields. Giving him ample time to react. Despite wanting to save them he did not trust these witches. Even though he considered them friends he refused to lower his guard.
Ryleth was almost done with the ritual. Before him laid Angela’s corpse on an altar. The smell of incense hung thick in the crypt’s sanctuary. When he was done saying her last rites he closed the ancient, ever further depreciating tome that laid on the lectern. A twisted, light purple candle sitting on the stand lit up. Ethereal light formed like a thin film on the body, which then rose up from it.
“A final goodbye.” Ryleth said as Angela’s spirit formed before him.
She slowly observed the ethereal form. She tried to touch the ground but she passed straight through. “Let me have my revenge.” Her tone was threatening. As a witch’s spirit she might even be stronger than in her mortal form. Though it’s a fate few witches would truly embrace.
“No.” Ryleth said.
Angela screamed like an actual banshee as she flew through Ryleth towards the stairs behind him. Her spectral form exploded into dust as she hit an invisible barrier in the doorway. Ryleth slowly turned around to face her as she reformed again from the glowing dust. Once again she unleashed a banshee scream. “Unleash me!”
“No.” He repeated with the same, calm voice. “I have sworn an oath as crypt keeper. You know I have. You also know the fate of any Bloodrose Witch.”
“I have on time for phantasms and dark, shared dreams! Vengeance will be mine! Unleash me!” She howled again.
“Silence!” Ryleth’s voice echoed through the sanctuary and beyond. “This mortal world is no longer your concern. I will only ask you once. Are there any last wishes you want to be fulfilled?” It was a tradition. Not all witches had their belongs allocated. Death could come quickly to any witch.
“Murder the Queen!” She demanded.
Ryleth let out a deep sigh. Few witches were ready to die. Even fewer were ready to remain in the Bloodrose crypt. Yet all, with enough time, resigned to their fate. He had spoken with centuries old witches amid the tombs. All said the same. “It will get better.” Ryleth said a final goodbye, before he smothered the candle’s flame with two fingers. Angela’s ethereal form vanished. Behind him, skeletons picked up the wrapped up corpse. Two more took the heavy tomb stone that he had carved in the last hours. The stone was in the likeness of Angela. It would cover the coffin and seal itself shut.
Rather exhausted Ryleth fell into a chair. For the past hours he had been busy preparing Angela’s corpse to be interred in the labyrinthine crypt. Now he had nothing else to distract him.
After a few minutes of hoping he’d find another solution, he too resigned his fate and got up. His skeletons were already moving boxes around. Until one particular one was uncovered. There was nothing special about this box. It had been gathering dust for years now. However, Ryleth cracked it open with great reluctance. Inside were eight crystal flasks. Adorned with polished brass and bronze that remained untouched by time. Despite their master-crafted quality, there was no iron, gold or silver to find on them. When he saw them ancient memories boiled back up. Memories of better times and a kinder world. When Medusa ruled with her iron fist and actually cared about the castle and the coven. A queen that radiated power. It was in the height of those days that he made these flasks. Only they could he get his hands on all the power and resources to make such complicated phylacteries. He took six of them and then ordered the box to be sealed up again. He hoped he’d never need them. They were the last resort after all.
The stable doors that led to the courtyard opened up. From the darkness of the stables, an unnaturally dark horse walked. Its fur was not just black. It looked almost as if any light that touched it was consumed. Its scarlet eyes were glowing and mist gathered at its hooves. It was a Nightmare ridden by Ryleth. The creature was no mere enchanted horse. It was a testament to a witch or warlocks strength and knowledge of Dark Magic. His steed slowly approached the gate where apparently quite a few witches were gathering at.
One caught his eye immediately. A naked woman with hair like molten rock. She wasn’t part of the coven. At least not yet. Ryleth kept his cold eyes on her for quite a bit longer. Trying to read and gauge her. Then he noticed Alexina. The sly queen was recruiting while she sends him to slaughter her opponents. How fitting for a leader. Maybe there was something Medusa had taught her. Still, it would not be enough to rectify years of incompetence. Speaking about incompetence: Taran. The joke of a warlock. A boy living in a made-up world. One Alexina now kept him in. For a moment he smiled. A question was answered. Then there was Usoa who apparently now really abandoned any form of morality or clothing. Ryleth did not forget her suggestion for his punishment.
He gave Alexina a small, curt nod as he passed the group. As he passed the gate he ushered the nightmare into a frenzied gallop into the woods. They vanished within moments in the darkness of the trees.
“A final goodbye.” Ryleth said as Angela’s spirit formed before him.
She slowly observed the ethereal form. She tried to touch the ground but she passed straight through. “Let me have my revenge.” Her tone was threatening. As a witch’s spirit she might even be stronger than in her mortal form. Though it’s a fate few witches would truly embrace.
“No.” Ryleth said.
Angela screamed like an actual banshee as she flew through Ryleth towards the stairs behind him. Her spectral form exploded into dust as she hit an invisible barrier in the doorway. Ryleth slowly turned around to face her as she reformed again from the glowing dust. Once again she unleashed a banshee scream. “Unleash me!”
“No.” He repeated with the same, calm voice. “I have sworn an oath as crypt keeper. You know I have. You also know the fate of any Bloodrose Witch.”
“I have on time for phantasms and dark, shared dreams! Vengeance will be mine! Unleash me!” She howled again.
“Silence!” Ryleth’s voice echoed through the sanctuary and beyond. “This mortal world is no longer your concern. I will only ask you once. Are there any last wishes you want to be fulfilled?” It was a tradition. Not all witches had their belongs allocated. Death could come quickly to any witch.
“Murder the Queen!” She demanded.
Ryleth let out a deep sigh. Few witches were ready to die. Even fewer were ready to remain in the Bloodrose crypt. Yet all, with enough time, resigned to their fate. He had spoken with centuries old witches amid the tombs. All said the same. “It will get better.” Ryleth said a final goodbye, before he smothered the candle’s flame with two fingers. Angela’s ethereal form vanished. Behind him, skeletons picked up the wrapped up corpse. Two more took the heavy tomb stone that he had carved in the last hours. The stone was in the likeness of Angela. It would cover the coffin and seal itself shut.
Rather exhausted Ryleth fell into a chair. For the past hours he had been busy preparing Angela’s corpse to be interred in the labyrinthine crypt. Now he had nothing else to distract him.
After a few minutes of hoping he’d find another solution, he too resigned his fate and got up. His skeletons were already moving boxes around. Until one particular one was uncovered. There was nothing special about this box. It had been gathering dust for years now. However, Ryleth cracked it open with great reluctance. Inside were eight crystal flasks. Adorned with polished brass and bronze that remained untouched by time. Despite their master-crafted quality, there was no iron, gold or silver to find on them. When he saw them ancient memories boiled back up. Memories of better times and a kinder world. When Medusa ruled with her iron fist and actually cared about the castle and the coven. A queen that radiated power. It was in the height of those days that he made these flasks. Only they could he get his hands on all the power and resources to make such complicated phylacteries. He took six of them and then ordered the box to be sealed up again. He hoped he’d never need them. They were the last resort after all.
The stable doors that led to the courtyard opened up. From the darkness of the stables, an unnaturally dark horse walked. Its fur was not just black. It looked almost as if any light that touched it was consumed. Its scarlet eyes were glowing and mist gathered at its hooves. It was a Nightmare ridden by Ryleth. The creature was no mere enchanted horse. It was a testament to a witch or warlocks strength and knowledge of Dark Magic. His steed slowly approached the gate where apparently quite a few witches were gathering at.
One caught his eye immediately. A naked woman with hair like molten rock. She wasn’t part of the coven. At least not yet. Ryleth kept his cold eyes on her for quite a bit longer. Trying to read and gauge her. Then he noticed Alexina. The sly queen was recruiting while she sends him to slaughter her opponents. How fitting for a leader. Maybe there was something Medusa had taught her. Still, it would not be enough to rectify years of incompetence. Speaking about incompetence: Taran. The joke of a warlock. A boy living in a made-up world. One Alexina now kept him in. For a moment he smiled. A question was answered. Then there was Usoa who apparently now really abandoned any form of morality or clothing. Ryleth did not forget her suggestion for his punishment.
He gave Alexina a small, curt nod as he passed the group. As he passed the gate he ushered the nightmare into a frenzied gallop into the woods. They vanished within moments in the darkness of the trees.
Sarah
“John it is.” A very disinterested Sarah responded. In the torchlight she observed the various sealed and unsealed crypts around her. They were old, very old. Some bones were gone but that was to be expected. In between the witches, the rats and the horrible conditions she couldn’t imagine the bodies to stay in one piece for longer than a generation. Still, something was off. Bones were missing but the remaining ones were smooth, polished. Where stone turned weathered and rough the bones remained in pristine conditions. It did not make her feel at peace. She had fought enough necromancers to know that these were their home turfs. So she especially had no time nor patience for the possible ramblings of a stranger, a child, a fool or a glory seeker.
Instead the ramblings of an almost-corpse pulled her out of her vigil. She stayed out of the antechamber until Dale threw his torch in it. The second she saw the pit she knew there would be trouble but not because she knew what it was. In fact she had no idea what would steal bones and make such a pit and it was exactly that which was worrying her. Whatever it was, it soon revealed itself to the group.
They needed to get out. Now. But apparently the party had another idea. John was giving some firearm to the princess. Something played up in Sarah. What if that thing blew up in her face? The poor girl. She wanted to go over there and take it away. It was much safer to just run. But Sarah shook the feeling off. This wasn’t a playground. There was no place here for little girls that need protection and Sarah would most certainly not play babysitter. Still, she felt like she needed to make her point clear: “If she hits me with that thing I will feed you your own guts!” She yelled across the room at John.
With the thing’s attention fixated on John, Sarah prepared to attack the bone demon. Skeletal constructs always had a sort of power source. A focal point within them. Inexperienced necromancers often used the ribcage to substitute it for a heart. More advanced ones would substitute it for a brain. This thing looked like it was made by someone with skill. So while she charged in an arch to get behind it, she looked all over the thing to find something different. Something glowing. The moving skull did elude her. Still, she was quick and was upon the demon as it got closer to John. Right before it could attack, Sarah swung her blade at the joint of one of its legs. If they could incapacitate it, maybe they could find the its source. Or so she thought.
Ryleth was seething. He could focus only on how to destroy Alexina. A head-on attack would be suicide. Poison might do it but he had no brewer’s gift. Besides, he didn’t need her dead necessarily. He needed her gone, banished or exiled. He needed someone to turn the coven on her. The only way he could achieve that was to stay the course he was on and hope the hunters were as stupid as he believed them to be. Worse, he needed to be more than just stupid. They had to be cruel as well. A witch would have to burn at the stake before the coven could ever turn against Alexina. His mind began to wander around. Who would be the proper sacrifice? They had to be completely expendable yet unconditionally loved. Only then would Alexina’s failure be taken seriously enough.
It was Ryleth’s state of mind that allowed Anghara to sneak up on him. She pushed herself against his back as she asked her questions. It was what he needed though. A distraction. From the stairs, he was heading towards two figures appeared from the darkness. Skeletons. He ignored Anghara entirely for a moment as he handed over the corpse to his minions. As quickly as they came, then went back down the stairs with the body.
Ryleth was not done with the teasing witch though. As he handed over the corpse he was quick to take Anghara’s hand that trailed the blood. The grip was firm and strong yet didn’t attempt to hurt her. With his other arm, he was quick to free himself and turned. Forcing Anghara to make a pirouette. After which he was quick to get close again. He put his free arm around her. The two faced each other now. Ryleth gave Anghara a sly smile. “Ever the tease.” He said as he led them both in a slow dance in the cold corridors. “But you know you can’t have a witch’s corpse.” He inched closer to her, narrowly missing her lips as he moved sideways. With his hot breath on her neck he whispered in her ear: “If you’re free tonight, I might just show you how naughty I really am.”
It was Ryleth’s state of mind that allowed Anghara to sneak up on him. She pushed herself against his back as she asked her questions. It was what he needed though. A distraction. From the stairs, he was heading towards two figures appeared from the darkness. Skeletons. He ignored Anghara entirely for a moment as he handed over the corpse to his minions. As quickly as they came, then went back down the stairs with the body.
Ryleth was not done with the teasing witch though. As he handed over the corpse he was quick to take Anghara’s hand that trailed the blood. The grip was firm and strong yet didn’t attempt to hurt her. With his other arm, he was quick to free himself and turned. Forcing Anghara to make a pirouette. After which he was quick to get close again. He put his free arm around her. The two faced each other now. Ryleth gave Anghara a sly smile. “Ever the tease.” He said as he led them both in a slow dance in the cold corridors. “But you know you can’t have a witch’s corpse.” He inched closer to her, narrowly missing her lips as he moved sideways. With his hot breath on her neck he whispered in her ear: “If you’re free tonight, I might just show you how naughty I really am.”
In
Academy of Noble Arms Reboot - With TheHangedMan's permission!
→
5 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
You got your one more. I'm down for this.
Ryleth’s face darkened when he got his mission. He knew the coven Alexina was talking about. Hell, he expected said coven to integrate with the Bloodrose coven in due time. They would make excellent allies. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He wouldn’t challenge her. Not today. Still, he would find a way to complete the mission without killing the witches. They were too important for his plan. He wanted to turn away and prepare for the mission. Until Alexina added her final demand. Ryleth’s eyes betrayed his disbelief. A blood oath! It was not a thing to take up lightly. In his entire life, Ryleth hadn’t been bound by one. Ever. Now Alexina stood before him with her knife, making the demand.
He took a step to protest. A blood oath would be too much! But then she talked about it being a lesson. He kept believing she was a fool. A delusional fool that thought she actually had made peace with the hunters. After decades of hexing the land and It’s blood she now truly believed they could live without fear? No, he did not trust her leadership. Fledgling tyrants ask to trust them and Ryleth was not about to kneel before someone whose neck was clearly not strong enough for the crown.
So instead of protest, instead of swearing he would never take a blood oath he walked up to Alexina. Without a word he took her blade, slit it effortlessly across his hand and showed her his palm as he recited the words: “By the bond of my blood, I vow to complete my penance, lest I suffer the Fisher King ’s curse.“ Fresh blood from him, mixed with Angela’s blood, Alexina’s blood and the flaked blood of Goldencrest’s priests dripped across his arm onto the stones beneath him. He gave back Alexina’s knife and turned away from her with disgust. “There you have your oath. I hope you can live with it.” He said though he wanted to spit it out.
Still he did not feel defeated. With his back at Alexina he kneeled before the corpse of Angela. He used his bloodied shirt as a shroud to cover her face and then picked her. “Now if you would excuse me. I’ve have a duty to fulfill.”
He took a step to protest. A blood oath would be too much! But then she talked about it being a lesson. He kept believing she was a fool. A delusional fool that thought she actually had made peace with the hunters. After decades of hexing the land and It’s blood she now truly believed they could live without fear? No, he did not trust her leadership. Fledgling tyrants ask to trust them and Ryleth was not about to kneel before someone whose neck was clearly not strong enough for the crown.
So instead of protest, instead of swearing he would never take a blood oath he walked up to Alexina. Without a word he took her blade, slit it effortlessly across his hand and showed her his palm as he recited the words: “By the bond of my blood, I vow to complete my penance, lest I suffer the Fisher King ’s curse.“ Fresh blood from him, mixed with Angela’s blood, Alexina’s blood and the flaked blood of Goldencrest’s priests dripped across his arm onto the stones beneath him. He gave back Alexina’s knife and turned away from her with disgust. “There you have your oath. I hope you can live with it.” He said though he wanted to spit it out.
Still he did not feel defeated. With his back at Alexina he kneeled before the corpse of Angela. He used his bloodied shirt as a shroud to cover her face and then picked her. “Now if you would excuse me. I’ve have a duty to fulfill.”
Ryleth cast a glare at Usoa. If she expected him to submit for torture then she was wrong. He might have looked meek and defeated but there was a fight in every hair of his body. Alexina seemed to not like the idea either. She then gave them their options but it wasn’t a choice. Those that knew Ryleth knew he wouldn’t submit his powers. Especially not to someone like Alexina. The other, impossible option was to die then and there. His hands turned into fists as he almost lost his cool. Right now he wanted nothing more than to fight and defeat Alexina. The coven had suffered her pacifistic rule for too long already. Yet he knew she was stronger than him. It wouldn’t be a slaughter but he wouldn’t win.
So she almost made the choice for him. “The Penitence Mission.” He said. Blood still dripped from his fingers onto the floor next to him. Phagora also announced she would take the penitence mission. With the two of them, the other two witches would no doubt join them. Still, Ryleth knew this wouldn’t be some common hunt as Phagora appeared to think. She was a demon spawn though. To kill her they’d need to face hunters and Alexina seemed quite keen to stay away from them. So whatever they faced, the eagerly pleasing Phagora wouldn’t be in much danger. He did not have the same certainty. He wasn’t born as anything special. Every skill he had came from hard work and study. While powerful, he was still very much a mortal. On top of that, it was no secret that Alexina hated him. The Queen of the Woods would no doubt tailor the mission in such a way that it would spell certain doom for him.
“So tell me what needs to die.” He said to Alexina. “I’ll bring you its bones.”
So she almost made the choice for him. “The Penitence Mission.” He said. Blood still dripped from his fingers onto the floor next to him. Phagora also announced she would take the penitence mission. With the two of them, the other two witches would no doubt join them. Still, Ryleth knew this wouldn’t be some common hunt as Phagora appeared to think. She was a demon spawn though. To kill her they’d need to face hunters and Alexina seemed quite keen to stay away from them. So whatever they faced, the eagerly pleasing Phagora wouldn’t be in much danger. He did not have the same certainty. He wasn’t born as anything special. Every skill he had came from hard work and study. While powerful, he was still very much a mortal. On top of that, it was no secret that Alexina hated him. The Queen of the Woods would no doubt tailor the mission in such a way that it would spell certain doom for him.
“So tell me what needs to die.” He said to Alexina. “I’ll bring you its bones.”
Interacting with: Tera Valenci@Whoami
Sarah was following the princess’ carriage as part of the hunter retinue. In her own mind, it felt foolish to just march into Castle Bloodrose. The coven might be inactive for years now but that didn’t mean there weren’t any more witches abound. When the caravan stopped she put away her flask and spurred her horse to go towards the front. She hoped something exciting was happening. Instead of that, she saw the horrific aftermath of a raid. The village was razed. People were dead in the street or hung upside down to drain the blood. From the carriage, she heard a call for Father Wyn. The priest that had accompanied them. “They’re not actually heading for the church, are they?” Sarah asked one guard. Who just nodded. “Idiots.” Sarah muttered to herself as she dismounted from her horse.
After barking a few orders to secure the place and make sure every corpse was burned she then proceeded towards the graveyard with her blade drawn. The commoners’ graves were untouched yet the family crypts were forced open. With a torch in hand she walked in. The stones that were supposed to seal away the deceased had been crushed by something. Several bones were taken. When she was sure nothing in the crypt would attack her she put her blade away. “Bloody necromancers.” Sarah muttered to herself as she took a quick gulp of her flask.
After a bit more investigating she came out of the crypt again. Right in time to hear the commotion near the church. Someone, no something, was still in the church. Sarah spared no time. She dropped her torch and rushed towards the princess, her guards, and Father Wyn. She stayed behind her grace with her hand on her blade. Ready to jump and strike. Her eyes were like a cat’s. Focused on the human-like silhouette within the church. “You should return to your carriage, your grace. This is no place for a princess.” She whispered at Tera’s.
I'd like to reserve Divination.
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