MelonHead

Reclamation - War of Technology and Magic (closed)

Telling everyone not to post in IC tends to be an effective way to kill activity.

I wouldn't even call the RP slow by advanced standards, and if people want to post they will, if you can't be bothered then just say that and close the thread, because that's something else entirely.

Reclamation - War of Technology and Magic (closed)

“So, one of those who burned our earth to cinders long ago came upon our fair city and you proceeded to attempt to stop it?” Johnathan shook his head sadly, not bothering to berate the scared young acolyte for his fool-hardy action. How could he blame them for their response, these were the same creatures that had happily destroyed all life on this planet and fled leaving only ruin. It was not they of Earth who wandered around the Tech-faction’s home, spreading their own culture, though the Magi certainly had a more reasonable history to condone such action. No, but wherever these creatures of foul metal go they spread uncontrollable fear, and then act with such self-righteous indignation when they are attacked? It baffled Johnathan that anything humanoid could be so callous, so cruel, but then, he was just a humble Magi. He would never commit the atrocities of those born of steel.

“Well, I suppose I should protect the flock.” He said finally, lifting his bulk from his chair with a sigh, his eyes sad beneath his stern brow. There was a serious altercation at hand, and apparently another of the Tech spies was incapable of hiding themselves from even the most basic magi, perhaps taking some morbid satisfaction in defeating the equivalent of children in the streets. It was becoming all the more common by his reports, unsettling even.

“Get some rest my child.” Johnathan said finally, leaving the room and entering the church-proper, the Book of Remus appearing in his right hand as if by magic.

“He who follows the light…” his incantation continued for some time as he walked towards the heavy wooden double doors, a few acolytes looking up at their Sion as powerful waves of magic emanated from him, seeking out the one he suspected would follow his panicking acolyte.

As he threw wide the doors with a flick of his hand he stared out into the open street, his eyes steely.

“Wicked one, return to your iron-prison and lament the loss of this green earth, for your people forsook the right to walk here when you burned this world to ash and fled leaving those you deemed lesser than you to die.” Johnathan called out, a clear warning to the Tech-faction’s pawn.

The Hot Headed, Heavy Hitters, Have it Out (Fury vs Kanitah, Round 2)

Fury was unsurprised that he had put his opponent on the ground, but he was not yet enraged so immediately moving in to finish the job was not high on his agenda. Better to draw it out and not underestimate his opponent, the soldier in him knew that luck could turn any battle. He had shot through Kanitah and delivered a strike, though the sound had been wrong for skull-contact so he assumed the smaller brawler had managed to divert his strike at the last moment to a fleshier target. Assuming Kanitah would still be standing Fury had then immediately bounded right-ward and span around, drawing energy into his palm and ready for a counter attack.

Instead Kanitah had been before him sprawled in the dirt, looking somewhat dazed from Fury’s fist. He wasn’t looking in the right direction, and he was still down on his belly, so Fury deemed it wise to deal with him now. The energy already prepared he hefted it, forming a bright blue spear made from his power alone in his right hand. With a javelin like throw he launched it at his downed opponent, the distance negligible at only fifteen feet or so, the space he had cleared with a single bound earlier.

If luck held and Kanitah failed to recover his senses, the spear would probably pierce through his ribs and into his torso. Fury fervently hoped it would.

The Coming Tide of War

This is pretty much the gist of the character I'd like to enter.

Jobe

Appearance:

Tanned white skin, blue eyes, blonde hair, he stands at six foot and has a noticeably bulky body free of fat, considered attractive in a nondescript country sort of fashion.

Name: Jobe Robson

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Occupation: Farmhand

Weaponry: Iron headed Lumber-axe

Apparel: Grey wool-spun tunic, leather breeches, leather boots

Equipment: Travel pack including basic supplies and a bed-roll

Skills: Farming, carrying heavy objects, dealing with animals, cutting wood, basic cooking. Has a knack for learning practical skills.

Magical abilities: N/A

Personality: Jobe is the classic country bumpkin, with no formal education to speak of he can carry out manual tasks adeptly and can work all day with scant rest, but tell him to use his brain or perform anything requiring artisans hands and he’s hopeless. This leads him to a certain degree of naivety, close minded-ness and other harmful qualities of limited broadening of ones horizons. He is however earnest, loyal and very honest, though quick to anger and short tempered. He’s no natural leader, and is as of yet untested in anything other than an unarmed brawl.

Backstory: Jobe grew up in one of the many towns devoted to farming the fertile lands west of the Truesh Peaks. His father was a farmer, his father’s father was a farmer, and one would probably expect his father’s father’s father to be a farmer as well. The middle child in a family of three sons, his mother passed three years prior and his father was woefully bad at securing his children good marriages. After having only recently found a place for his eldest the sounding couldn’t have come at a better time, giving him the perfect opportunity to send Jobe off on some obscure quest as a way of relieving the family’s money problems.

Jobe, as a young adventurous lad, had no issue with being packed off. Though his ignorance and naivety has served him poorly on the road so far, he has somehow survived long enough to answer the call, and considers himself the King’s most loyal subject, even if he couldn’t pick him out in a crowd.

The Coming Tide of War

Been interested in a classic med-fantasy adventure for a while, I'll have a character prepared soon.

Arena Chat Thread

Yeah I remember the armour treasure hunt.

The Hot Headed, Heavy Hitters, Have it Out (Fury vs Kanitah, Round 2)

Yeah, the waist grab and lift. Putting your opponent to the mat head first, really good when you're short and strong. And I thought about doing that, but you followed up the punch with a burst of momentum. So that would have just had Kanitah take the full weight of Fury to the face and chest. Which would have hurt worse than being slammed into the ground.

@LeeRoy

Yeah it would have been difficult to pull off after attempting the upper-body grap, but Fury would have probably been taken by surprise if it had been attempted earlier when you snuck under his guard.

The Hot Headed, Heavy Hitters, Have it Out (Fury vs Kanitah, Round 2)

I don't know a huge amount about grappling myself, but I think Kanitah would be particularly well suited to UFC style low-take downs (sort of similar to frontal rugby tackles) because of his size and strength.

RPGuild Ranked Tournament - Tuujaimaa vs. Melonhead

You might want to re-read my initial post, you may be misunderstanding Jok's movements.

RPGuild Ranked Tournament - Tuujaimaa vs. Melonhead

Jok was unable to spot anyone following him immediately, but he was content to wait in his forested cover on the southern edge of the island, standing stock still with a decent view of the central plains. He was kneeling to keep his own profile low with a good degree of scrub blocking him from anything other than a careful of somehow enhanced view of the forest. What he was assured of was that if they were in view then he would be spotting them first, with his own impressive eye-sight.

His SMG was raised slightly and pointed outwards, ready to be locked on any targets he judged within its effective range. It wasn’t the best long ranged weapon, but he was fairly confident there were few places on the island his bullets wouldn’t reach, strange physics aside.