Some people need to make a hard choice when deciding which two karaoke streams they want to listen to. I have no such weakness: I have two ears for a reason.
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3 yrs ago
The hard part about trying to play some politically savvy mastermind is the assumption that the world operates off real world politics and not your DM’s politics.
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4 yrs ago
Don't put too much stock in prophesies. At best they're full of shit, but more often than not they're one of those self-fullilling kinds. Plan for what happens afterwards instead.
4 yrs ago
A character isn't deep or compelling just because you let them get hurt a lot, are always depressed, or do morally questionable things.
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Bio
If you're here either you're wondering what I'm doing cause I need to post in your RP (In which case, calm yo tits, I'll get around to it), or you want to know who I am. So let's begin.
I'm a college age asian kid who has more heart than he has senses. I'm still working out this whole "adulthood" thing, so until then I just do what I feel I must. As far as personality and traits go, I'm not one for boasting. So if there's anything redeeming about myself you'd have to figure it out in person or by word-of-mouth. Generally however I'm rather perverted, in the best and worst ways. nothing is too much until I've crossed the line, and that just means I've started.
As far as Roleplays I like, I have a thing for fantasy, though I'm also good for some types of sci-fi, supernatural, Modern, and slice-of-life. If it's open and sandbox, I'll probably join it. Never really been a romantic, I often chose to sexualize any notion of romantic encounters I come across. I generally write at Casual quality, though I have no issues with Free-Level Rp/Players and I can hold my own in Advance.
Anima: Da Hacka - An orkish power klaw infused with Aetherial energies that make it into a powerful Anima. Not only does its pneumatic pistons allow it to crush and rip through conventional armor with fearful ease, the blades are sheathed in energy that allows it to destabilize physical and magical matter for extra armor piercing properties. But it's true power is its ability to sink the claws into any vehicle and allow Rokkit to forcefully take control, even if the vehicle in question is already being operated, isn't turned on, or something Rokkit doesn't actually know how to operate normally.
Personality: Boisterous and belligerent. He and his kind are known for their rough personalities and often find themselves fighting against all sorts of people, leading short violent lives. But what Rokkit differs from most of his kind is his own will to look further into the future than just the next battle, wanting to leave a legacy and change things for the better in the future. And while he shares the temperament of his kin, Rokkit himself is also quite sociable and dislikes having to be alone, though at the same time when he’s busy working he hates distractions.
Alignment: Chaotic Good. Rokkit knows that cooperation and rules are needed to maintain some semblance of order in this chaotic world, but he merely sees them as tools, not restrictions. If they get in the way of what he wants he’ll gladly ignore them to do what he needs to do. However ultimately his desire is to do good for himself, his friends, and his people. He is willing to stoop to all kinds of lows as well as uphold promises he hates if it means succeeding.
Backstory: Rokkit is an Ork from another world, one where a dark fate awaits all those who suffer to live in it. But such a grimdark world does little to dampen the mood of the jovial and psychotically violent orks. Rokkit comes from the Scraplootahs tribe, a group known for their unconventional ways even for orks. Rokkit himself is part of the tribes Kommando troops, orks with a penchant for stealth and ambushes. Trained under the Chief Kommando Rockeata Brugg, Rokkit got his name for sneaking into an enemy warship by hitching a ride on a rocket, crashing into the hull, and raising hell while inside long enough for the rest of the tribe to board and take over the vessel.
While Rokkit enjoys a good scrap like any Ork, he does enjoy the thrill of a hunt, sneaking past enemies and quickly and efficiently assassinating them in the most violently brutal manner possible. But sometimes he doesn't feel like being subtle, but there's only so much an Ork can do with two hands and his lungs. And so often, Rokkit also dabbles in operating the various war trucks his tribe has, and gains the skills to use vehicles in both land and air to do death defying stunts as well as in heavy combat. His favorite technique is known as the Drift Shot, where he enables his vehicle's momentum to keep him moving forward while he violently twists his position so he can get a better angle on the enemy, often when they're pursuing him. This allows him to go from being on the defensive to offensive at a moment's notice.
Rarely there's much going on in an orks life that isn't fighting or preparing for a fight. The idea of peace for an Ork is entirely different for a human. No Ork settles down to raise a family, to put aside their weapons and live a long and boring life. But still, there are times where there isn't any fights to be had and brawling against your fellow Ork loses its touch. And so Rokkit has learned other hobbies to keep himself occupied, in particular music. Loud, thumping music, to keep his blood hit even when it's not being spilled. He favors the drums, an appropriately brutish instrument for an Ork. But there is a level of technique and skill needed to truly master the drums and Rokkit is eager to master it. He's even taken time to train his voice for singing and shouting, though he is considerably less skilled in this than he is in drumming.
Life for an Ork is nothing if not chaotic, and the same applies to Rokkit. While the Scraplootahs were chasing down a band of Chaos Marines, Rokkit was wandering around looking for something to fight. Instead he found something to loot. There was a big dead alien, and stuck in it's skull was a wicked looking powa klaw. Rokkit didn't know who it belonged to, but it was way choppier than his own, so Rokkit willingly removed his own arm to attach it with the mysterious claw.
It was then that something really strange happened. Rokkit was taken to another world! Everything was a blur but suddenly he found himself in an unknown city full of unknown people. At first Rokkit tried to be sneaky, but out of his depth and out of familiar territory he stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But soon he started making some unlikely allies, and plenty of enemies, and ultimately the Ork felt right at home in the city of Soma.
Additional information: Rokkit is missing his right arm, having lost it during a battle against Tyranids. For a while he had an axe replace the stump until he found his Animus. He's rather dexterous with his power klaw, though it does still have a fairly limited range of motion.
Additionally Rokkit is rarely ever out of his armor except when he needs to repair it. He finds his armored plates more comfortable to wear than without, though this does have the side effect of having weird tan-lines if he ever does take off his armor.
Has a taste for coffee and human cuisine, and has committed many raids just to steal food. Though he likes Ork food too, and misses it since he hasn't had real Ork food since he arrived on this planet. He likes sandwiches in particular.
Doesn't understand human money and lacks any digital bank record. He prefers to trades or barters for everything, though he at least understands the importance of having physical cash as well. Even if he isn't good at counting it. Rokkit collects teef, though since no one takes them as legal tender he tends to collect teef for sentimental reasons.
Rokkit's hobbies include working on his equipment, his bike, playing the drums, learning how to sing, and boxing. Boxing in particular is something he's quite fascinated by since most orks don't bother with the sort of precision techniques boxers have, but Rokkit is eager to learn how to fight like them. Though most gyms don't let him since his right arm is a giant mechanical claw.
Aside from his Animus, Rokkit has a stash of equipment he has brought he made for his own use. Though not a full-fledged mekboy, he's generally capable of scrapping together his own gear and ammo, though he prefers to delegate the more tedious tasks to his grots, such as making bullets or repairing his armor.
Road Warrior - An Ork slugga, an automatic handgun. Though it's more accurate to say that this is an automatic shotgun. A drum fed rifle shortened to be easily carried by Rokkit, his natural orkish strength enables him to use this weapon with one hand without compromising on it's firepower, compensating his poor accuracy by saturating his enemies with a rain of buckshot. He can change his ammo to slugs for better accuracy or other specialized ammo if he has any available. He also has a bayonet attached underneath the barrel to use it as a deadly melee weapon in close-quarters combat. Still looking to upgrade his weapon for additional power.
Fire Light - An additional firearm that Rokkit attaches to his Animus. Connected to a gas tank on his back, the Fire Light is a flamethrower that benches out molten napalm to melt foes trying to hide behind cover or swarm Rokkit. While it has even poorer range than his Road Warrior, the Fire Light has the benefit of being highly effective against large mobs or swarms. Indeed, Rokkit had this weapon made when he had a rough experience fighting Tyranids, alien bug monsters who tend to attack in massive swarms. A great shock weapon as well, it's part of Rokkit "Hack and Burn" technique, where (contrary to the name order) he will ambush his enemies by drenching them in burning napalm before hacking them apart with his klaw.
'Eavy Armor - Rokkit wears an orkish set of heavy armor made of some composite ceramic material. He frankly doesn't know the details of what it's made of, but knows that it's more or less the same stuff space marine armor is made of, so he considers it to be pretty tough. Unlike many of his kin who's armor look fairly scrappy and cobbled together, Rokkit 'Eavy Armor almost looks uniform. He just likes the look. Rokkit's helmet is fancier than the rest of his armor, as it's built airtight with filtration to protect him from toxic gas and let him breathe underwater. The visor is also fitted with a thermal sensor allowing him to see creatures via their heat signatures, handy in darkness or heavy smoke.
Lucky Teeth - Decorating Rokkit's body are various bands with teeth on them. Each one coming from an Ork or alien he had defeated in the past, he considers them good luck as they represent enemies he has been victorious against. Most humans don't have interesting enough teeth for warrant removal, so Rokkit would instead opt to just take skulls instead.
Kerberos - Rokkit's war trike. Three wheels, three engines, three guns, the Kerberos is fast and deadly… If Rokkit can get it to work. As skilled as Rokkit is in tinkering, even his abilities have limits and so far he has a hard time getting the Kerberos to ride longer than a few minutes. He figures he just needs better materials but until he can figure out what he needs, the Kerberos remain inoperable.
Orks don't have a word for friends and even if they use the human word for it, it doesn't really apply to most or not all of them. Orks being so belligerent and violent that they barely tolerate each other's presence, even Rokkit barely feels close to anyone to call them a friend. But that doesn't mean he doesn't have some functional, mostly positive relationships with others in this new world.
The Grots - What Rokkit calls a gang of orphans who more or less work for him. He had inadvertently saved them from some traffickers when Rokkit was looking for weapons to loot, killing the slavers since they were armed and gladly accepted the children to do manual labor he couldn't be arsed to do. In exchange he has also taught them his orkish ways, and they have quickly picked up on how to make things orky, making a majority of them skilled gunsmiths and explosive experts. They live at the warehouse he's currently squatting in and for the most part he doesn't mind sharing the space since he's rarely there anyways.
Hunta - Rokkit's pet squig hound. Unknown to Rokkit, it has been experimented on to give it a goblin's brain, increasing its intelligence but also making it less aggressive by having a goblin's cowardice. Thus it rarely actually hunts on its own, preferring to let Rokkit do all the work. However if sufficiently motivated it can be quite dangerous. More or less takes care of the Grots when Rokkit isn't around since they fear and respect him, often feeding him and going to him when they're in trouble. This gives Hunta a massive confidence boost enough that he's usually willing to fight despite being a coward. Is inadvertently growing more squigs in his nest, which gets cultivated by the Grots.
Gun Master - An arms dealer who doesn't use his real name, so Rokkit calls him the Gun Master. Tough as nails and a crack shot, one of the few humans Rokkit respects and thus does business with him, trading guns and ammo with him. The Gun Master is one of the few arms dealers who can get bullets that satisfy Rokkit's needs.
Lucy Sclera - A bartender who works at the Lost Dog bar on the fifth pillar. Friendly and sociable as any bartender worth their salt tends to be. Rokkit often goes to her for drinks since she's one of the only bartenders who's willing to trade drinks for whatever plunder he has on hand, though in turn he takes the courtesy to at least pay her in cash whenever he has any. She's also Rokkit's go-to gal for information on any work or mark he happens to be working on at the moment. She introduced him to the idea of sandwiches and makes his favorite, roasted chicken and marinara.
Yozakura-Gumi - A criminal organization that deals with the typical criminal enterprises, such as drugs, guns, gambling, and prostitution. Though they're only criminal in order to undercut the legitimate corporations who also run similar businesses: medicine, law-enforcement, investments, and entertainment media. Bigger than most street gangs but lacking the means to rival corporations, Rokkit has earned their favor doing many jobs for them, and in turn they support him by keeping his home relatively safe and buying the guns his Grots make.
The chairman of the Yozakura-Gumi, a formidable warrior who has carved a place for his clan through strength and violence. However such means can only go so far, and right now his clan suffers due to their inability to do much more than to provide a protection racket within their territory. Thus he's been focusing on trying to get his clan involved in more profitable ventures, however he finds this difficult due to the stranglehold rival corporations have on the market. While he leads a criminal organization, Jinzo desperately wishes to turn the Yozakura-Gumi into a legitimate business to bring his people out from a life of crime. But he's willing to resort to whatever means he can to make that happen.
Mr. Shadows - Someone or something that helped Rokkit figure out how this new world works, though the Ork desperately wishes he never knew the guy. A mysterious and frightening entity who has demonstrated strange dark powers that Rokkit has never seen before. While he hasn't done anything to harm Rokkit it's abundantly clear that he is far more powerful than he presents himself, and now Rokkit owes him a favor. A common saying about him is "He's in every shadow."
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Name. Shorty Grotsky
Age. 16
Gender. Female
Anima. None
Personality. Optimistic and crafty. Shortie knows that the world is a rough place, with kindness in rare supply, but she's always willing to look towards the silver lining. But that's not to say that she's so naive as to accept every handout, and she knows that everything comes at a price. She aims to work hard to earn her keep and never catch herself in debt to another. Can be rather greedy though and overestimates her own intelligence. While Shortie may not be able to cross most lines, if she does something she'll never regret it.
Alignment. Lawful Neutral. Shortie has a code and she sticks to it. That doesn't mean that she nice, but also means that she has standards. She can be very pragmatic in both her personal and business life, willing to use people who'll be useful and abandon them once they lose their usefulness, but she'll make sure that as long as they hold their own they'll have her full support. She's willing to make the hard decisions that no one else wants but has to be done.
Backstory. Shorty Grotsky was born an orphan, her parents being killed off by vindictive Handlers hired to "deal with" the goblins living in their neighborhood. Shorty herself was saved only because her father had managed to hide her in someone's car before he himself was gunned down. The folks who found Shorty in their car put her into an orphanage, where much of Shorty's life was made. It was called the Big Scrap Alley, a junkyard converted into an orphanage for children. The owner was a strange man called Fixit, a large greasy fellow who most folks would think shouldn't ever be near children alone. His questionable intelligence certainly made people think less of him. But Fixit was an honest, kind man, more than willing to take care of the orphans and teach them usable life skills. To Shorty, Fixit was basically her father.
Being a goblin, Shorty matured both physically and mentally faster than the other orphans, and thanks to Fixit she received something of an education that quickly allowed her to develop better skills. It wasn't long before Shorty more-or-less became the second in command in the orphanage, even if not by age, but due to her talents as an engineer and general maturity. She helped Fixit run the orphanage, and even got sponsorships that helped make it a better place for the kids to live. For a while, life was good.
But success draws people who want an unfair share. It wasn't long before gangs began to approach the orphanage, offering "protection" against the various dangers in the city. Shorty knew it was a trick but Fixit didn't, and inadvertently accepted the gang's deal for protection in exchange for money and orphans to join their gang. When Shorty found out she tried her best to stop it, but the gangs made it clear that they intended to essentially take over the orphanage, siphon whatever money was coming into it, and recruiting the kids as gang members whether they want to or not. When Shorty revealed this scheme to Fixit, he was distraught and furious. In a rage, he created weapons and armor and fought back against the gangs, but died in the process. Shorty had to run away with the remaining children during the fight.
For a few more years Shorty and the children lived on the streets, doing odd jobs to stay alive. Shorty had to harden her heart against the sort of things that can happen to orphans and people in the slum parts of town, and after the second orphan child died under her watch, she stopped being so nice to them in order to keep them alive. She fought tooth and nail for survival but it was almost never enough, always occurring loses that only let them live long enough to continue struggling. There were many times Shorty wanted to just give up and go on her own, so that she could at least take care of herself.
But a miracle happened one day. She and the orphans were being chased down by some gangsters intending to sell them into slavery, and despite her best efforts Shorty was caught off guard without her best weapons. It looked like it was going to be the end for her when suddenly, a huge ork appeared and slaughtered the gangsters, stealing their weapons and money, and just left without even acknowledging them. Afterwards Shorty went to get her gear and looked for that ork, and when they found him she asked if she could work with him. He was the only person who's ever done something good for her without asking, just like Fixit, and he didn't mind working with them as long as they followed his orders and never worked against him.
Since then things have been looking up. They managed to secure a warehouse to live in, and been gathering scrap and materials to make it comfortable. The ork taught Shorty and the kids how to make weapons in a surprisingly imaginative way. Soon Shorty herself was taking over production, with the kids finally able to do some work that'll earn them some real money. Not wanting this life to go away Shorty worked hard to keep everyone safe, even the ork, developing weapons and equipment to protect everyone and profit from the various gangs that want to genuinely cooperate with them.
Additional information.
Currently Shorty leads a band of orphans known collectively as the Grots. She is the oldest among them and the youngest is ten years old. There are twenty of them, most who stay at the warehouse to work, relax, or play, but some of the older kids do try and go out and do more things. Shorty spends most of her time just keeping them out of trouble but when she puts her foot down they know when to listen and stop messing around. While they have all gone through the horrors of street life, most don't have the stomach for real violence and prefer to live in relative peace.
Picked up on orkish engineering quickly and teaches the rest of the children how to do it as well. Quite intelligent and sees Rokkit as an opportunity to get herself and her friends out from poverty. She handles the logistics and organization within the Grots and their home, making sure Rokkit never has to get involved in managing things less she lose control of the operation.
Has a weak tolerance for alcohol and a sweet tooth. She avoids drugs and other intoxicants after seeing how it can lead to a slippery slope of addiction that can make her fall into the same traps as other women who sought them as a means to deal with their personal problems. The worse she goes for is coffee. And the good stuff too.
Though she's tough and scrappy, Shorty knows she's not the greatest in a fight. Even if she has all of her gear with her simply being smaller than most young humans puts her at a sever physical disadvantage, and thus while she can take a hit and is good with a gun she'd rather avoid direct conflict if she can help it. And if she has to fight, she prefers to do so via proxy.
Shorty maintains most equipment at the warehouse and does the final check on all gear to make sure they will work well when they get sold to the gangs. Angry customers are bad enough, a whole gang of them is even worse. Aside from that Shorty likes watching TV dramas and anime. She also dances and wished she could find a dance crew willing to work with a goblin. Her dream is to one day become a mech pilot.
Bosco - Bosco is Shorty's primary weapon. A dwarven mining drone that has been upgraded with stealth tech and guns, it's is capable of flying and is surprisingly tough despite it's small size. It's main purpose however is as a scouting tool. It's capable of cloaking itself to turn invisible to the naked eye. It's flight systems have also been adjusted to make little to no noise. It has it's heat and electronic signatures suppressed so it doesn't get picked up by radar, and to top it off it's arms come equipped with the tools needed to hack into machines and computers digitally, enabling it to disable surveillance networks. It has it's own radar in order to keep track of enemies, allies, and other entities as needed. It's radar range is effectively 1 mile, enabling it to track things within that range with great precision.
As for combat, it can shoot short-range electrical darts that can be used to either disable machines or electrocute people. As long as the darts make contact, it can bypass things like armor or hyper dense muscles to overload the nerve receptors to force them to spasm. Another emergency weapon it can use is releasing a large cloud of capsaicin irritant, which naturally as a machine it's unaffected by, but it can do a lot against organic targets who aren't properly protected. And finally if neither weapons are effective and it's at risk of being captured, Bosco can activate a self-destruct sequence where it overloads it's batteries to explode in a huge ball of plasma, melting itself and anyone else caught in the blast.
Omniwrench - Whether it's fixing a phone or breaking some bones, the Omniwretch is Shorty's signature weapon. As it's name implies it is a wrench that can be adjusted not only in shape but size, enabling it to serve as an all-around tool for repair jobs. It can even be converted into other tools such as hammers, prybars, knives, clamps, or a screwdriver. If she has a battery to charge it she can even use features such as an electric saw, power drill, jackhammer, or nailgun.
Ratel 454 Custom - A tiny gun that packs a big punch. Originally Ratel 454 are revolver pistols designed in mind for small races and children to be able to pack a weapon capable of considerable damage per shot with a reasonably size and weight ratio. As a ballistic weapon it's considered a novelty as it's over designed with safety features meant to use a large caliber bullet, which still pales compared to larger hand cannons that are more designed for larger marksmen. But Shorty uses the Ratel and it's abundant safety features and converted her revolver to shoot plasma cartridges instead of bullets, making it far more devastating than it should be. The secret to how she manages to both fit and make sure the plasma doesn't leak is a trade secret, though Shorty admits that making the ammo is expensive and thus she tends not to use it unless she absolutely has to.
After dropping off her weapon at the smith's, Fran took some time to relax. Her quest would no doubt be full of tension and terror, and if she spent every waking moment stressing over the situation she would snap. She took the time to find a room available, handing her traveling attire to be washed and went to bathe. Even a simple cold-water wipe down was soothing to the young knight. Noble as she may be now, she hasn't forgotten the rigors of life as a squire, living in relative squalor both in civilization and outside of it. It thus makes simple things like a bucket of clean water to wipe herself down with feel like an absolute luxury compared to wallowing in her own stink for days on end. After cleansing herself, Fran ate a simple meal of stew and wine before she went back to the smith and received her weapon.
Taking her halberd back, Fran gave it a few practice swings. It flexed but did not bend, it struck hard but not stiff. Though a mundane weapon of mortal steel, Fran knew the importance of keeping one's blade well maintained. She made a note to take better care of her halberd from now on, knowing that this was still her duty even if she wasn't a squire. As Fran was leaving she received a message that the first of the heroes called by the Princess was leaving. She was to join the entourage quickly. With a firm nod, Fran gathered her belongings, changing into her now cleaned traveling clothes and went to join the others.
Truth be told, Fran felt a bit out of place. Though she recognized a few folk here such as Ser Pyke and his squire Tomas, everyone else was unfamiliar, many of them not even human. It brought a somewhat dark thought to Fran: the Dales were suffering from weakness, and this weakness makes them an easy prey to their neighbors. As much as they were all brought together so long ago under the guiding hand of Prince Braedan, that was ancient history. Their current situation was bleak, and it has always been a worry to Fran that those outside of the Dale may try and attack them for what resources their lands could provide. Food, wealth, people. But Fran shook these thoughts off. If she thought of these people as her rivals or enemies, they would never be able to fix the problems plaguing their world. Approaching the gathered group Fran gave a sharp salute, a strong smile, and made sure to look at everyone here, be they fellow knights or even what seems to be orphaned children.
"Greetings and well met. I am Ser Francesca Varangian. I have served the Kingdom of the Dales for over twenty years, first as a squire and now as a knight. Whatever foe we face, I promise you that I will face them with you. My blade will protect the innocent and slay the guilty. I am pleased to be traveling in such company."
Yeah that makes sense, and I had that feeling which is why going after the bandits will likely be immediately bebeficial. Likely whatever the bandits are doing will disrupt trade and businesses which in turn means that the city doesnt have much to work with. Which is really bad for Fran since as a martial human, she kinda needs equipment to keep up with more magical races/creatures.
Though I'll also be honest, I'm so used to villains and other enemies having some dark matter which enables them to be far richer and more well supplied than any of us protagonists that the idea of murdering and looting the enemy is simply more efficient than bothering you come up with our own money and buying them from shops that won't have anything useful or available anytime soon. Why bother helping a blacksmith make mundane weapons and armor when that bandit boss over there is rocking a +1 armor and wields flaming swords?
Though I suppose that itself is a story to be told itself. Frans just a regular warrior. Unlike everyone else with fantastic magic abilities both innate to their race and gained from their training, all Fran has going for herself is her skills in battle. And I imagine that it won't be long before those too get stretched to their furthest limits while everyone else has much more pote tiel to unlock. So Fran had a lot at stake to make sure the Dale success of else it'll see itself consumed by the sheer raw efficiency other races have over humans.
It had been some time since Fran had been to the capital city. Not since the Pretender Uprising had she been here, and while things looked the same, she could feel a certain air of quiet desperation as she walked through the streets. People are safe here, yes, with a roof over their heads and work to do. But there was an ever looming threat of worse to come that kept everyone on edge. Fran prayed that these people only have to worry, and never have to suffer their fears becoming a reality, as so many have before. Still, there were luxuries here in the city that Fran wouldn't be able to find easily or cheaply in her travels.
One such thing would be music. Many are too busy eeking out their lives to compose a poem or write a song, and Fran certainly had found many traveling bards accosted by disgruntled locals for their perceived friviousity. Which was a shame considering how uplifting music can be in times of hardship and stress. Fran was a warrior through and through, but even she would appreciate the soothing tunes of song during her weary travels.
Fran was on her way to the market when disaster struck. Descending from the heavens came a swarm of crows - no, monsters much worse than that. They seemed to have spread throughout the entire city without warning, with many people scrambling to safety. Immediately Grab leapt into action, shouting over the crowd to direct them to safe places such as churches, large buildings, or even in people's homes if there was nothing else. She was quick to use a calm but authoritative tone, one which she had learned during her time as a Squire, to get people to listen to her. She spent most of her time getting people to safety but when one of those monster swarms arrived Fran was not afraid to leap right into battle either.
Fortunately for Fran and the common folk, the city guard were quite dense here and we're able to slay the monsters quickly and efficiently. Fran herself hardly did much beyond being a distraction and drawing the attention of the monsters onto her: she very intentionally exposed herself to be attacked, keeping the monsters' attention on her while keeping the others safe. Any that had tried to go after them were quickly attacked by Fran herself, to force the swarm to deal with her or die. Ultimately by the time the city guards had slain enough of the monsters to send them fleeing, Fran was surprisingly alive, and not nearly in as bad a shape as one would think after being mobbed by hundreds of crow monsters. Shortly after she was asked to head to the Palace to meet with the Princess, as every able-bodied warrior was needed in these trying times. After making herself presentable, Fran would head to the palace as asked.
Fran conducted herself quietly, dining separately from the others and watching the meeting with the princess with stoic silence. She always respected the royal family and while she understands the people's distaste for the royal family, their blame on the Princess was harsh and misdirected. That being said, Fran was not so naive as to think the royalty were faultless. The king had sired no proper heir, with no queen to rule in his stead. No line of succession beyond the title passed down into his daughter who, while kind, was unprepared for the burden of leadership. Untested and now the target of everyone's ire, Fran understood people's hate towards her. But Fran did not hate the princess. She was making the most out of a terrible situation, with the weight of an entire realm on her shoulders. The stress would be unbearable, but just as well the princess would have the means to make the world a better place. And thus Fran put her faith in the princess, and would gladly quest in her name to bring peace and prosperity back to not just the Dale, but their world as well.
After the meeting, Fran received a stipend of 100 gold to assist in her quest. Fran would do some shopping for supplies though the situation the nation was in made useful supplies in unfortunately short supply. Initially she wanted to purchase some armor for herself however no blacksmith had any armor ready for her. She would have to commission them which made them immediately useless; Fran can't afford to wait for weeks or months for equipment she needs now. The only place that had armor right now was the royal armory, who's equipment was well outside of Frans budget. This got an exasperated sigh from the warrior. "I can see why there aren't many heroes in these lands. There's no shop to supply any up-and-coming warriors, and only the wealthy and connected can afford the immediacy of basic protection. With the bar so high and minimal standards so low, little wonder why there aren't many adventurers interested in exploring the lands."
Finding regular supplies wasn't any easier. Many rations were worth a day's wages, and even rope was worth half of that. When Fran tried to find some medicine for first aid those were quite more exoe since than last time she was in the city. No doubt that many folks are suffering from sickness and famine now, which makes food and medicine in high demand. This made Fran wonder how anyone manages to get by these days… and chances are they get by the same way Fran does: with violence.
As Fran was buying what supplies she could find she reflected on her day's pasts. Many villages were afflicted with sickness and famine that made their already short supplies thin. And many of these folks were, in turn, a target for bandits. And the unfortunate truth was that many of those bandits were little more than village folks who had turned to steal and raid their neighbors for supplies they needed to feed themselves and their families. Fran was no mage: she could not conjure forth food and water like a cleric could, or make the ground fertile like a druid's magic can. All Fran had to offer was her blade, and even that she couldn't provide forever. But she could offer the next best thing: training. Before she had arrived in the capital Fran had been training villagers in battle, using simple weapons like staves since that was the most ubiquitous. Fran herself was a Polearm Master and was able to teach the basics to the villagers, hopefully able to form a militia to defend their homes. Though Fran also had no doubts that those same villagers may one day use the knowledge she taught them to raid and pillage others. Such was the circle of life.
The next stop was a music shop. However it seems like during the previous fight against those flying monsters, someone had taken the opportunity to loot the store. This just got a tired sigh from Fran. "Even in times of crisis, there are folks who are willing to steal from each other. How does the saying go? 'Loot the burning house?' for shame." Fran does take the time to buy an instrument from the shop, hopefully it'll help them with repairs. A sturdy drum, something she can play to keep herself entertained while traveling but can also be used to signal others during the chaos of battle. Drum signals are important in bigger battles where one might have a hard time hearing things over the sound of things like clashing steel and shouting men. After paying for these supplies, Fran heads out back to the castle.
There was one last place she wanted to shop at, though given the state of the city she has little doubts that it would not end well. She went to check the stables to buy a horse. Ideally a war horse, but she could suffice with a riding mare if that's all they have. Unfortunately her concerns were correct: by the time Fran finished examining the horses available, all that she could buy were draft horses, and at quite a mark up at that. Most of the better horses were already given to knights and messengers, so any available steeds were mere work horses. Fine if Fran had intended to pull a wagon, but these horses were also quite expensive and Fran couldn't afford one, let alone two. "Suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Horses tend to be reserved for mobility anyways. Just goes to show I've still a long way to go before I earn my title." Fran tried not to think too much about how someone with a noble title can't seem to afford much more than her halberd, which she's been using since the days she was a Squire. "Discretion is the better part of valor I suppose. To be able to connect to the common folk I shouldn't be on a high horse."
With most of her shopping done there wasn't much left for Fran to do beyond training. To that end, she will need to get her weapon maintenance. She hates to admit this, but Fran does a terrible job keeping her own equipment in order. Perhaps back when she was a Squire she was far more dutiful about maintaining Sir Astrea's arms and armor, but as a knight Fran had gotten incredibly lazy at it. Sure it still slices, dices, and slashes as it should, but even Fran could feel it's edge full by the day and it's half creaking under the strain of battle. So Frans final stop would be the castle smithy. Perhaps here she can pursue some new armaments, or at least maintain her current weapon.
It did also make Fran wonder: with the economy in shambles as it were, would it help if Fran was able to contribute to it somehow? She has no doubt that they will come across resources in their little adventure. Off the top of her head she can imagine that they will fancy many enemies. And unless they're all Behemoths, she's certain most of them will be mortal folks with arms and armor which could be repaired and repurposed. Because if the 100 gold is all the crown can afford to pay their heroes, Fran will have to find out her own means to acquire wealth and resources. Nothing in this life came for free, and time was money. It would be cheaper for Fran to take what she needs from those who have it, which unfortunately is likely the mentality of the various brigands and bandits that plague the land. But turnabout is fair play, and if those thieves have filthy lucre from stealing from others, than Fran in turn shall make a fortune off them.
Entering the smithie, Fran makes her presence known with a knock on the door and a polite smile. "Hello. I am Sir Francesca Varangian. I wish to leave my weapon here for maintenance. It has served me for many years and it is due for some proper love and care."
Also, just five gold after a week of labor huh? Geez I'm starting to remember why I multiclass. Barely get anything done if you aren't magic. Are healing potions and antitoxins available for purchase? I'm hoping I can make the most out of this coin, otherwise murderhoboing may end up being more cost effective than buying things.
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If you're here either you're wondering what I'm doing cause I need to post in your RP (In which case, calm yo tits, I'll get around to it), or you want to know who I am. So let's begin.
I'm a college age asian kid who has more heart than he has senses. I'm still working out this whole "adulthood" thing, so until then I just do what I feel I must. As far as personality and traits go, I'm not one for boasting. So if there's anything redeeming about myself you'd have to figure it out in person or by word-of-mouth. Generally however I'm rather perverted, in the best and worst ways. nothing is too much until I've crossed the line, and that just means I've started.
As far as Roleplays I like, I have a thing for fantasy, though I'm also good for some types of sci-fi, supernatural, Modern, and slice-of-life. If it's open and sandbox, I'll probably join it. Never really been a romantic, I often chose to sexualize any notion of romantic encounters I come across. I generally write at Casual quality, though I have no issues with Free-Level Rp/Players and I can hold my own in Advance.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="http://i.imgur.com/U9KUQFh.gif" /></div><br><br>If you're here either you're wondering what I'm doing cause I need to post in your RP (In which case, calm yo tits, I'll get around to it), or you want to know who I am. So let's begin.<br><br>I'm a college age asian kid who has more heart than he has senses. I'm still working out this whole "adulthood" thing, so until then I just do what I feel I must. As far as personality and traits go, I'm not one for boasting. So if there's anything redeeming about myself you'd have to figure it out in person or by word-of-mouth. Generally however I'm rather perverted, in the best and worst ways. nothing is too much until I've crossed the line, and that just means I've started.<br><br>As far as Roleplays I like, I have a thing for fantasy, though I'm also good for some types of sci-fi, supernatural, Modern, and slice-of-life. If it's open and sandbox, I'll probably join it. Never really been a romantic, I often chose to sexualize any notion of romantic encounters I come across. I generally write at Casual quality, though I have no issues with Free-Level Rp/Players and I can hold my own in Advance.</div>