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11 mos ago
God, why are cat buttholes so magnetic to the eyes.
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12 mos ago
Shop Authentic & Natural Loose Toenail Clippings outside in my trash cans.
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Lv. 9
HP: 220/220 SP: 200/200 MP: 30/30
(200) + 10% (200) + 0% + 0 (30) + 0% + 0
STR – 48 (41) + 15% | AGI – 27 (26) + 10% | END – 23 (21) + 5% | DEX – 20 (20) | LUC – 10 (10)
Equipment:
Wrestler's Loincloth - Common Accessory - +10 HP, +5 STR


"Guh, fuck you gravity."

That was smarts. Her huge play ended up putting her in a bad spot as she collided with the ground. Despite the reduced pain setting, the funny bone still sent shocks. She was now at a disadvantage. A prime picking for a frog's leg to slam into her spine and finally end the fight.

As she turned back to look at the action, she saw his spear firmly lodged into the toad's body, shatter, then turn to ash. Was the frog slain? She began to count to herself as if it were a wrestling match. One... Two... Thr- he kicked out. Rather than choosing to continue the fight, he threw the coin down at Klein. Well, he may have got the coin thrown at him, but Mags was the one that used him as a projectile weapon. She had just as much claim to the loot as him, if not more.

"Mmmind if I roll... need?"

She upgraded her stats as she asked. 6 in Agi, 10 in Dex. She was pretty strong. Better to balance out her martial stats for now. She also removed the baby diaper for now. She didn't want to wear that thing for more than she had to.
Lv. 9
HP: 93/230 SP: 160/200 MP: 30/30
(200) + 10% + 10 (200) + 0% + 0 (30) + 0% + 0
STR – 53 (41) + 15% + 5 | AGI – 22 (20) + 10% | END – 23 (21) + 5% | DEX – 10 (10) | LUC – 10 (10)
Equipment:
Wrestler's Loincloth - Common Accessory - +10 HP, +5 STR
@Shovel

It worked. Not well, but it worked. Mags gave enough time for them to wound the frog with the spear. Unfortunately, that victory was short lived as the man with the spear was sent airborne. Now she was in the danger zone. Less than half her health left. Her virtual body was going to begin to break down. The only respite she took is that she set her own pain to 10%. Judging by the look of their archer, she was still going strong in comparison. This was no time to quit her plan. Not because she cared about her comrades living through this fight. Nah, their lives were meaningless. It was a game after all. No, this was pure sunken cost fallacy.

With every ounce of strength she could gather, she leapt off the ground. She was certain she could hop over Ames with her strength. Her goal was to grab hold of the airborne Klein and, as she met with the ground once more, toss the burning brute at the frog. To hell with the consequences. If he slammed into her territory, it was his own damn fault for not taking the frog down with him. Even if he did practically take a bullet for her, it was entirely useless if they all died to this dumb frog.
Placing this here for now.



It was an auspicious day in Haven. The noon sea breeze cooled the streets as hawkers and peddlers sold their trinkets and baubles. The smell of street food filled every single district. After all, today was special. The festivities and celebrations heralded the return of the Sea Wolves' merchant fleet. While the lands of Mistlund were rich, there were some things that you could only acquire back on the main continent. The fleet of ships carried enough opulent luxuries that even the richest man in Haven could barely afford them all. Such luxury was not reason for celebration, however. What made Haven turn to holiday was the arrival of people. The merchant fleet was one of the few boats that would take people to Mistlund. Hundreds of people with pockets full of coin would arrival. There was no better time for a merchant to sell.

One group in particular, however, was less enthused about the festivities: the adventurer's guild. The arrival of the ships meant that dozens, if not hundreds were coming in hopes of starting a new life. Mistlund was a land of opportunity, especially for those with no wealth. With a blade in the hand and enough willpower, one could earn unimaginable riches by exploring the land. The merchant fleet was the sole group that would carry anyone to Mistlund so long as they worked as a crewman. They were also the only group that wouldn't keelhaul stowaways. No, the captain of the Sea Wolves had a reputation. To those who spent their lives at the sea, he was practically a folk hero. An orphan that began as a stowaway, only to become a captain for the most dangerous mercenary group at sea. It was by his hand that the pirates that once stalked the channel between the two continents were stopped.

The Ports were no exception to the festivities. The ships docked and passengers finally got their first taste of solid land. The usual fishmongers that made the ports their home had been replaced by vendors looking to sell exactly what someone who spent weeks at sea needed. Fresh fruit, solid food, and enough booze to get an entire city wasted. On the other side of the docks, a swarm of merchants that impatiently waited for Erane's goods to be unloaded so they could purchase the wealth brought over.

While Mistlund was more diverse than any one nation on Erane, a certain figure seemed out of place. A wolfman outside the lead ship, sitting and resting against one of the dock's poles. He aimlessly stared at the sky, a dripping flask of liquor held within his bestial maw.

The Hillside District was filled to the brim with worshippers. While the residential streets had turned into a party spanning streets, the church and its surroundings were solemnly quiet with respect. More people than usual spent their day with prayer.

The Highland District was the same as it had always been. Only the richest of Haven's population explored its streets. The common people felt too out of place to make any sort of long venture inside of the highlands. Their opulent festivities were much tamer than the rest of the city, choosing to remain within their large mansions.

The Sunken Horns were remarkably more friendly. Strange races ensured that the crumbling infrastructure didn't break within by the adventurers who wished for the Iksal's blessings. Insect men guarded the rope bridges that lead down into the gaping pit of a district to ensure that they wouldn't snap from the weight. Craftsmen constantly repaired the railings that were hastily placed to ensure nobody fell off the footholds inside of the ravine. Small, mouse-like people guided the visitors through the cave for a single coin. But the Iksal were nowhere to be found on this day.

The Town Centre was an absolute hellscape. The streets had been filled to the brim with people. Rope had been stretched from rooftop to rooftop as they held banners and lanterns that would burn until the next morning. Town hall was filled with nobles wishing to purchase homes. The adventurer's guild was no exception. Thankfully, there was at least some kind of order for the guild. Outside the front door stood an extraordinarily large man. With white hair, thin beard, and scars along his face, he stood as the lone gatekeeper that prevented the guild from falling into chaos. He was more giant than man, really. He himself couldn't fit through the doors without ducking and turning his body at his man-and-a-half height. A long lineup had formed at the sign labelled "New Arrivals", the giant only letting one in once one left.
Lv. 9
HP: 150/230 SP: 180/200 MP: 30/30
(200) + 10% + 10 (200) + 0% + 0 (30) + 0% + 0
STR – 53 (41) + 15% + 5 | AGI – 22 (20) + 10% | END – 23 (21) + 5% | DEX – 10 (10) | LUC – 10 (10)
Equipment:
Wrestler's Loincloth - Common Accessory - +10 HP, +5 STR


With a guttural war cry, the ground around Mags turned to flattened sandstone and brackish water washed over her feet. This was her arena. It was her fight. This was her awakening. It would have been more poetic if it had occurred in the river, but the sudden enlightenment as a frog leapt at her was kino enough.

Maybe a tiger drop was a bit audacious to pull against the frog as it sailed through the air in an arc, froggy heel aimed at her skull.

She really didn't want to get hit by it. Lemons into lemonade and counter into different counter, Mags thought about it that way. If the frog was in the air, it couldn't reposition again. After all, it couldn't double jump, could it? Rather than dodging away or protecting herself with her arms, she moved into the storm and charged forward. Her body twisted, turning 180 degrees to ensure her body would accept the motion without breaking. Her hands were where her head once was, moving into the path of the kick as best as she could. The second the frog would hit her hands, she would clasp them around its foot and ankle as best she could. Use its own strength and speed against it as she would try to slam the frog into hard stone.

It was sink or swim. Well, stand or drown in a very small depth of water.
@TinyKiwi

You're good to move her to the character tab, then.


Thel is looking good so far. When she's done, I'll give it one last look over before you can put it in the character tab.


William is good. Feel free to add him to the character tab.



In other news, the IC will probably come in 4-5 days. Earlier if everyone else who showed interest posts their sheets.
If I were to do something very specific with magic, namely having a character with a prosthetic limb made of enchanted stone, would there be anything to prevent that?


Nothing would prevent that, considering how it's just controlling magic rocks. The quick rule of thumb is that you can't use magic to harm someone without creating or using a medium to do so. For example, you can't pop someone's head like a grape using the classic head explosion spell, but you can create a concussive beam that'll do the same thing if it hits.


With the nazi on the run, Lilliane had a moment to collect herself and survey the damages to the cafe. It wasn't pretty. Gunfire everywhere, holes in walls, and the destruction of enough property to bankrupt the owners. The place wouldn't open for a long time, that was certain. The rest of the group had decided to stay around and question the man. He wasn't to be trusted, of course. He worked with the Nazis and who was to say that this wasn't some kind of elaborate ruse.

Lilliane, however, was the one that had to think about and deal with the outcome of this. Numerous cusses came out of her mouth as she paced back outside, lightly kicking. Some in French, some in English, and even one in Spanish. Just thinking about how she had to fix all of this gave her a headache. Sabotage was easy to cover for. Someone's ineptitude, a plain accident, things along those lines. A full on gunfight resulting in an injured Nazi asset? It was a pain.

"In for a penny..."

She ran out. Well, if that asset disappeared, the Nazis wouldn't exactly have a full picture on what happened, would they? She ran after the woman. When she reached the hole at the back of the building, Taras' yelled at her through his stand. Damn, she knew already. All she had to do was... incapacitate her. She was injured, how hard could it be.
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