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- Old Guild Username: sartorous
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Most Recent Posts
So I don't need to pick a job?
Do you have a pilot?
Are you accepting characters at this time?
Are you still accepting characters?
Salas sat under the tree, and he listened and waited; that was all he could really do in the current situation he found himself in. The old one questioned the warlock of his intentions just like she did the witch and himself. The warlock, however, seemed to be at a loss, as he turned to the witch for advice, something that seemed out of character for him judging by the witch’s reaction. The choices laid out before him seemed to be go after this demon lord or to heal himself of the Withering. Salas continued to sit and listen, thinking and pondering all the while. He had said that he was merely a sword to be pointed in a direction, and the more he thought about his statement the more true it seemed, as he did not know what he wanted out of this life. He really was just waiting to be pointed in a direction and set down a path by someone other than himself.
He noticed the small courtly habits of the witch, and this intrigued Salas as he too used to be involved in courtly doings of nobles growing up; idly, he wondered how the witch came to be here from the courts of the nobles. He made a note to ask her this, but intended to keep his history with the courts a safe guarded secret; it had taken him long enough, but he had finally rid himself of the small courtly habits he had been taught growing up in that world. His new companions intrigued him very much indeed; the ancient witch who called herself Crone most of all, though she seemed to marvel all those present except for the great green dragon. And in that moment, Salsa decided he was going to accompany the warlock on his journey to find a cure and stop the demon lord, in exchange for the knowledge of wind magic. He knew enough to whip up a wind to speak for him, but he sought to use the wind itself as more than just a voice; he sought to use it as a weapon as well. He stood at the warlock’s question and stepped forward to stand amongst the group. He summoned a wind forth to speak for him once more.
“I will go with you on your journey if you teach me to use the wind as more than just a voice. In exchange for your knowledge, I will supply my own knowledge of the use of a sword.”
The wind died down once more as Salas broke his concentration. He waited for an answer from the warlock, having chose to address him over Crone because he was likely to get the same reply from her as the witch had, and he needed to learn spells, not just the concepts behind the magic. He thought of the endless uses the knowledge he sought could have; he would be able to sue the wind itself as a weapon. He could strike his foes down with the invisible hands of the breeze and gales. He would more than just a wind-speaker, he would become a lethal wind.
He noticed the small courtly habits of the witch, and this intrigued Salas as he too used to be involved in courtly doings of nobles growing up; idly, he wondered how the witch came to be here from the courts of the nobles. He made a note to ask her this, but intended to keep his history with the courts a safe guarded secret; it had taken him long enough, but he had finally rid himself of the small courtly habits he had been taught growing up in that world. His new companions intrigued him very much indeed; the ancient witch who called herself Crone most of all, though she seemed to marvel all those present except for the great green dragon. And in that moment, Salsa decided he was going to accompany the warlock on his journey to find a cure and stop the demon lord, in exchange for the knowledge of wind magic. He knew enough to whip up a wind to speak for him, but he sought to use the wind itself as more than just a voice; he sought to use it as a weapon as well. He stood at the warlock’s question and stepped forward to stand amongst the group. He summoned a wind forth to speak for him once more.
“I will go with you on your journey if you teach me to use the wind as more than just a voice. In exchange for your knowledge, I will supply my own knowledge of the use of a sword.”
The wind died down once more as Salas broke his concentration. He waited for an answer from the warlock, having chose to address him over Crone because he was likely to get the same reply from her as the witch had, and he needed to learn spells, not just the concepts behind the magic. He thought of the endless uses the knowledge he sought could have; he would be able to sue the wind itself as a weapon. He could strike his foes down with the invisible hands of the breeze and gales. He would more than just a wind-speaker, he would become a lethal wind.
May 11th.
In
Nebular Delirium (Mature, intellectual, Char-Driven Sci Fi)
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
I'm interested in the sniper position and/or the pilot position. The espionage specialist position sounds promising as well.
I may have to delay my post another day. I've hit a brick wall in the middle of writing it. I apologize.
Post is finally up. Also, I added pictures to the twins' character sheets if anyone wants help picturing them.
Barnabas was analyzing the Asylums all around him when suddenly waiters seemed to materialize from nowhere with great platters of all kinds of exotic ice creams and frozen desserts. He was taken aback by their sudden appearance and was unable to concentrate on his analysis of each Asylum. A waiter thrust an ornate glass dish of an even more ornate chilled gelato into his hand and moved on. He examined the dessert in his hand while Alice had started devouring the one in hers. He would have been surprised to turn around and see her doing so if he had not known her his entire life. Barnabas simply sighed heavily and moved to a nearby seat and set the dish on the small circular table next to it. Alice followed and sat down next to him as she finished her dessert and moved on to eat his as well.
When the time came to “storm” the Kings’ base, Alice and Barnabas took a bus into the city and got off at a random stop before making their way down the main strip, playing the part of young tourists, stopping every so often to take pictures or ask someone to take a picture for their mother back home. Following this course, they eventually made their way into position, but something felt wrong. Alice could feel it down in her bones and was about to turn and tell Barnabas about it as the ground shifted under them and then fell away, leaving them to fall into the unknown.
Alice awoke laying flat on a rough rocky floor to the sound of someone talking. She only caught part of what they were saying.
"... throw off our ability to work together. Cunning. Though if they were going to deny us our Alchemy simply opening up on us with heavy gunfire could have worked... Such an overly sophisticated plan… ”
She perked up slightly at the words the person was saying, thinking it was Barnabas, but in the moment it took her to sit up, she came to her senses and realized it was not her twin brother who spoke. She looked in the direction of the voice as he introduced himself and extended a hand to help her to her feet.
“Where are my manners. Jason Frost, at your service, my lady.”
Alice ignored his hand and stood up, brushing herself off. It was dim in the tunnel they found themselves in, so Alice attempted to make an orb of light in her palm by tracing out sigils in the air before herself, but found her Alchemy was disabled and then remembered that the man she was with… Jason, he had said his name was, said that their Alchemy was taken from them. She sighed heavily and turned toward the man.
“My name is Alice Grimsby, but you probably know me as Corvos. I’m one of The Inquisitors of AMRO, the other being my twin brother Barnabas Grimsby.”
She fell silent after introducing herself and checked her leather wristbands; luckily they hadn’t been damaged in the fall.
“I have gloves with metal knuckles, smoke bombs with antialchemy poison gas, and leather wristbands that fire poison darts, most of which are laced with antialchemy poison. What are your weapons? If we’re stuck together, we should get an inventory list of what we have and formulate a plan to try and meet up with the others.”
A soft groan escaped his lips as he came to in this new abyss. Judging by the texture and feel of the floor he was in a tunnel underground; this theory was strengthened by the lack of noise, the dim light, and the light breeze that was constantly blowing. Barnabas looked around as best he could while remaining on the ground, trying his best to appear unconscious so as to not draw attention to himself in this unknown place. For all he knew he could be in a prison cell and being watched by one of the Kings. He was running several different theories and plans through his head when someone spoke over him.
"Judging by the fact we fell under the ground level as well as the man-made construction, it is safe to assume we are in the Las Vegas tunnel complexes. This is most likely a King's trap, meaning that they have disabled our alchemy and will be flooding the tunnels with troops very soon. Primary objective is to rendezvous with anyone and everyone possible, before breaking out to the top side. Thora has a grappling hook on each wrist that can support any two individual's weight with ease: ViPs include the Chrono, the Lost Number and Thora."
The man who spoke was speaking what was on his mind. He tried to get a better look at him without moving too much, but it was impossible, so he decided to stand up and look at the man who was speaking; it was the bear of a man who had knocked his sister out with some sort of concussive force back at the bunker. Barnabas eyed him for a moment before speaking, getting over his social anxiety in order to work together to get out of this place.
“My name is Barnabas Grimsby, but you may also know me by my code name: Noctuam. I am one of AMRO’s Inquisitors. The other is my sister, Alice Grimsby. Her code name is Corvos. I believe you were one of the Aslyums sent to kill my sister and me, not that that matters now that we’re both under the thumb of the Chrono and the Lost Number. My sister is a hand-to-hand specialist equipped with gloves that have metal knuckles, smoke bombs that release antialchemy poison gas, and leather wristbands that shoot poison darts, most of which are laced in antialchemy poison. I’m equipped with a revolver with antialchemy rounds and a silencer mechanic, a high-powered taser with barbs laced in antialchemy poison, and a collapsible short sword laced in antialchemy poison. What are you equipped with? I agree on attempting to rendezvous with the others as soon as possible. We should get moving now.”
When the time came to “storm” the Kings’ base, Alice and Barnabas took a bus into the city and got off at a random stop before making their way down the main strip, playing the part of young tourists, stopping every so often to take pictures or ask someone to take a picture for their mother back home. Following this course, they eventually made their way into position, but something felt wrong. Alice could feel it down in her bones and was about to turn and tell Barnabas about it as the ground shifted under them and then fell away, leaving them to fall into the unknown.
Alice awoke laying flat on a rough rocky floor to the sound of someone talking. She only caught part of what they were saying.
"... throw off our ability to work together. Cunning. Though if they were going to deny us our Alchemy simply opening up on us with heavy gunfire could have worked... Such an overly sophisticated plan… ”
She perked up slightly at the words the person was saying, thinking it was Barnabas, but in the moment it took her to sit up, she came to her senses and realized it was not her twin brother who spoke. She looked in the direction of the voice as he introduced himself and extended a hand to help her to her feet.
“Where are my manners. Jason Frost, at your service, my lady.”
Alice ignored his hand and stood up, brushing herself off. It was dim in the tunnel they found themselves in, so Alice attempted to make an orb of light in her palm by tracing out sigils in the air before herself, but found her Alchemy was disabled and then remembered that the man she was with… Jason, he had said his name was, said that their Alchemy was taken from them. She sighed heavily and turned toward the man.
“My name is Alice Grimsby, but you probably know me as Corvos. I’m one of The Inquisitors of AMRO, the other being my twin brother Barnabas Grimsby.”
She fell silent after introducing herself and checked her leather wristbands; luckily they hadn’t been damaged in the fall.
“I have gloves with metal knuckles, smoke bombs with antialchemy poison gas, and leather wristbands that fire poison darts, most of which are laced with antialchemy poison. What are your weapons? If we’re stuck together, we should get an inventory list of what we have and formulate a plan to try and meet up with the others.”
A soft groan escaped his lips as he came to in this new abyss. Judging by the texture and feel of the floor he was in a tunnel underground; this theory was strengthened by the lack of noise, the dim light, and the light breeze that was constantly blowing. Barnabas looked around as best he could while remaining on the ground, trying his best to appear unconscious so as to not draw attention to himself in this unknown place. For all he knew he could be in a prison cell and being watched by one of the Kings. He was running several different theories and plans through his head when someone spoke over him.
"Judging by the fact we fell under the ground level as well as the man-made construction, it is safe to assume we are in the Las Vegas tunnel complexes. This is most likely a King's trap, meaning that they have disabled our alchemy and will be flooding the tunnels with troops very soon. Primary objective is to rendezvous with anyone and everyone possible, before breaking out to the top side. Thora has a grappling hook on each wrist that can support any two individual's weight with ease: ViPs include the Chrono, the Lost Number and Thora."
The man who spoke was speaking what was on his mind. He tried to get a better look at him without moving too much, but it was impossible, so he decided to stand up and look at the man who was speaking; it was the bear of a man who had knocked his sister out with some sort of concussive force back at the bunker. Barnabas eyed him for a moment before speaking, getting over his social anxiety in order to work together to get out of this place.
“My name is Barnabas Grimsby, but you may also know me by my code name: Noctuam. I am one of AMRO’s Inquisitors. The other is my sister, Alice Grimsby. Her code name is Corvos. I believe you were one of the Aslyums sent to kill my sister and me, not that that matters now that we’re both under the thumb of the Chrono and the Lost Number. My sister is a hand-to-hand specialist equipped with gloves that have metal knuckles, smoke bombs that release antialchemy poison gas, and leather wristbands that shoot poison darts, most of which are laced in antialchemy poison. I’m equipped with a revolver with antialchemy rounds and a silencer mechanic, a high-powered taser with barbs laced in antialchemy poison, and a collapsible short sword laced in antialchemy poison. What are you equipped with? I agree on attempting to rendezvous with the others as soon as possible. We should get moving now.”
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