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3 yrs ago
Current Just because you can have 36 attacks per turn that threaten a crit on a roll of 14+ doesn't mean it's worth doing.
5 yrs ago
Purple, because aliens wear red hats.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Isn't it weird how you can start a private conversation with yourself?
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Martel was a calm man, in some ways he was a kind man, even gentle if need be. But this... This was just getting on his nerves. He did remember the old days and fun 'cock waving competitions', seeing who was the strongest or smartest or fastest, but this? This was bothersome - not for him personally, but more or less pulling the entire rest of the inn to it? He glanced at the dragonborn? Dragon? with a tad bit of an un-amused smile. "Alas, much like many old curmudgeons I prefer to be the one doing the tomfoolery, not being the target of it." The cold didn't affect his undead form in the slightest, he seemed just disinterested in the young fool now - after Darksoul seemed like much more decent company. "You flatter me with words, young one. I like it. Bars tend to be places where people are willing to hear my stories and well, sometimes I just prefer to escape mine Ducal duties for an hour or two. Heh... I have completed many a feat worth Legends, thank you very much." The Duke adjusted one of the many rings decorating his fingers and shrugged his shoulders. He pried off a gem from one of them and shattered it on the floor, unleashing a very high level dispelling incantation to dispel the cold caused by Kobe's magical item.
For just a brief moment Martel's jovial attitude faded. He glared at Kobe, all the warmth gone from his eyes. He pushed the whelp from his mind - in this case literally. Still, he did not draw the black blade. He just have the young vampire a glare of disapproval before looking curiously at Darksoul. "Ah, you must be from a fifferent plane of existence than I, for where I hail from the gold dragons are a true force for good. Aiding the brotherhoods of palafins in their divine duties." He gave Kobe another small look, now back to his warm smile. "I would suggest you do not try your tricks again. For I do not tolerate tomfoolery of any kind in my presence. If a weapon you wish a weapon you shall have." The old man placed a dagger on the table, it was made of silvered steel, with a priceless ruby as a pommel.
Martel flashed a warm smile - it was perhaps strange to see a vampire able to show proper, positive emotions. He took a step back and spread his arms, bowing politely and sighing like he had been expecting Kobe's question. "Well, my young compatriot. Allow me to take the stage and provide proper introductions then! You are in the presence of His Grace, Martel Griffonsbane, the 1st Duke of Blackwood, Master Bard Extraordinaire, Magna Alumni, 1st Blademaster of the Order of Golden Dragon, Wielder of the Weave, Teller of Tales, Feller of Foes, Singer of the Songs, Planeswalker of Great Renown, Shatterer of the Black Seal, Slayer of Arioch, Wielder of the Black Blade." He straightened up and motioned at the large black sword at his back. "This here is Stormbringer, the Black Blade, forged by the Chaos Gods many eons ago. In mine hands he has gained the title Bane of Arioch." The black blade seemed to hum in approval to the old vampire's words.

"I hate to brag - heh, nay, that would be a blatant lie. I am a horrid braggart when it comes to such things. Then again, after centuries of adventuring these titles have piled up." The man chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Perhaps all of you would appreciate a drink or two? On my tap of course! Today all the drinks are on me!" *He did a very... bardic... flourish towards the collection of drinks and towards the counter. "After all, very few people tend to be able to stomach my songs and stories with a dry throat!"
Toki and his compatriots followed after Fujimaru. In the chaos the bastard of Yamato nearly lost his head - had it not been for the needlessly selfless act of one of his friends. Everything went silent - or at least so it seemed, as Toki watched one of his crew fall to the floor, motionless, dead. His every movement felt like time had slowed down to a crawl. He didn't even notice picking up the revolver from the floor. Four shots rang in a quick succession and one of the two remaining assailants fell to the floor. His hands moved again, pointing the two revolvers at the man with the naginata. He pulled the triggers, neither shot was a direct hit, but one did scrape the enemy's shoulder, hopefully distracting the fellow enough for Yuya to finish the job.
Martel brought his song to an end and stashed his lute under his cloak, making it disappear again. He chuckled and bowed with a flourish before lazily, but confidently sauntering over to the counter. "It is rare these days to see another vampire." He stated politely, not really looking at Kobe, but clearly acknowledging the younger man's presence. "Then again... many things are a rarity. Adventure? Damsels in distress? Proper elven wine? All of those fine things are a rarity! How are you, neighbor?" The black clad man turned his red eyes towards Kobe and flashed a smile. "Had any adventures worthy of song?"
I'm really sorry. I have been really busy. I'll try to post asap.
The tall man kept strumming his lute and suddenly started singing in a clear voice. He sang a song from times long past, of the the heroes of his youth, the Grand Conclaves of Mages and their wars against Dragon Kings long since forgotten by those not well vested in the bardic lore. He sang of heroics and tragedies, keeping the speed and tune of the songs fast and positive. His fingers danced on the strings of the lute with the skill of a man who had dedicated a very long time of his considerable lifetime practicing his craft.

Martel walked around the bar with a confident saunter, a spring to his step as he played and sang. A good natured, warm smile on his lips as he went from the heroic and tragic songs to a fun drinking song about a farmer and his pig - The song was admittedly quite bawdy and rather explicit in it's wording, but it was all in good fun.
Toki gave a quick thank you nod to Fujimaru before he and his crew sprung to action. The men drew their weapons and opened fire. 9 shots rang in quick succession. In such tight quarters the coach guns would make up for their lack of accuracy with the brutal hail of lead. Toki's shot had rang true, mutilating the legs of one of the men attacking Fujimaru. The rest of his crew had aimed for the men at the back of the room, wounding 2 and killing one.The men holstered their coach guns and drew their revolvers. Now that they had thinned the enemy ranks they were just looking for opportunities to get a shot in.

"Captain, with your permission we will pursue the enemy leader." Toki stated nearly excitedly as he took few steps back to not be in immediate danger. "The question is do we want him alive?"
Toki listened silently for the exchange of words. He waited for a moment before speaking in a calm, low voice as his eyes scanned around the area. "Now, I may not be much of a diplomat, but I know a thing or two about talkin' to people of all classes. If we ain't lookin' to outright start the fight... Gimme... five minutes." He motioned to his four compatriots and they exchanged a whispered plan. Without any further warning he and his crew were moving. They made their way to the room with the armed men.

"Goood evenin' to ya gents!" Toki pointed around the room, swaying like a drunkard as two of his friends made a show of keeping him upright. "Mind if us fellas join ya?" He slurred his words a bit and made a point of widening his eyes when he 'spotted' the men being armed. He straightened up a bit and very slowly - as to show he wasn't trying anything funny - moved his hand to one of his pockets, pulling out a hip flask. "Don't worry about the liquor, we got our own."

The four men flanking Toki did their best to seem as unamused as possible of their friend's antics. One of them coughed and smiled apologetically. "You gotta forgive our friend here, he's been drinking some of that ...what did the foreigners call it...? Brandy? Just look at the fellow... He's bad enough with just sake..."
For just the briefest moments everything was a blur, time seemed to slow down, everything sounded... strange. Then the tall, pale man stood very casually in front of the bar counter. A massive black sword slung lazily across his back, it's rune covered blade fully visible. There seemed to be nothing actually holding the sword attached to his back, but judging by the low hum of magic surrounding the man it would have not been a surprise if magic was at work.

The Duke of Blackwood smiled warmly as he spread his arms, parting his cape made of many different coloured patches of finest silk. He wore a wide brimmed hat and in his left hand held a smoking pipe made of finest wood and ivory. In each of his fingers was a ring with different gemstone on it. Martel took a moment to look around the tavern before casually pocketing the pipe and pulling finely made lute from under his cape.

He strummed the instrument lazily for a moment, the lazy strumming become a slow tune that began collecting speed. At least his entry this time had not included crashing through the roof whilst fighting a dragon.
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