POOHEAD189

Myriad Reality

Also, unfortunately, I took it to the other mods and they deduced that this roleplay fit into the 'Free' category. We do not know which mod told you otherwise, but that is what they have told me. Perhaps if your posts were a paragraph or two it could be put into casual, and if you showcase that we can move it. But as it is, I apologize but I have been informed that this is a Free roleplay as far as the higher ups are concerned.

Myriad Reality

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

POO. How you doing, buddy?

@souleaterfan320

I'm doing great dude, how the fruit are you!?

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

@BazmundThat is an excellent character, but keep in mind I want everyone to be flawed, and while he definitely doesn't live a happy life, he has a wide variety of skills he is excellent at. However, I will trust you to make sure he isn't a gary stu. If you give me that promise, then put him in accepted because that is a great sheet, my friend.

You can also have him in the group outside of the abandoned castle.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

For their Comrades

@Gcold @Frizan @Spoopy Scary@POOHEAD189

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Marcel’s latest exploits were not dissimilar to Ariane’s former colleague, Le Roi Jenquins. She was going to draw up a convoluted plan and make sure everyone had their proper equipment, and even so, their odds of success were only 32.333%. Of course, Marcel, being the “genius” he was, decided to run in ahead of everyone.

Other mercenaries had to catch up after Marcel and Tsleeixth. Their path along the castle corridors were chaotic. Guests wearing fine fabrics and guards in heavy armor all ran the other way. There were bodies strewn about; some were lifeless husks drained by Nyrehtaud, while others died from physical weapons. Thankfully, no one stopped the pursuing mercs. There were a few concerned individuals trying to grab the mercenaries, but the most threatening guards were already dispatched by Nyrehtaud, Tsleeixth and Marcel.

The sun was setting, and a purple glow could be seen through the windows. Not all of the light sources were lit, and some were knocked out in the confusion. However, the Duchess’ personal quarters were not hard to find. The trail of corpses lead to a kicked-in double door. The pair of cooks that harassed Tsleeixth earlier laid outside, dead and mutilated. Screams inside were mixed with the shattering of glass, the crashing of stone and the battle cry of an old man. As Ariane rounded the corner, she was just in to see Diarmid being thrown into a bookshelf.

“Did anyone see Tsleeixth? He was-” Ariane peered into the room. Marcel was incapacitated, and there was an Argonian arm and head under the grand chandelier. “Oh, I think he’s been defeated.”

“Look, the vampire and its golems are too powerful for any one of us.” Ariane told the rest. Daixanos, Dar’Jzo, Piper and Narzul were already geared up, thanks to them sneaking in with the crates. Ariane herself needed no armor or weapon beside her magic. She was wearing her fine suit, and her right hand held a shimmering bound sword.

“Piper, grab the gargoyles’ attention and lead them to the large bookshelf.” Ariane took position next to the doorway and pointed out. “I will feather the bookshelf so Dar’Jzo can topple it upon the gargoyles.”

“Narzul, we need you to move the vampire lord under the chandeliers.” Ariane continued. “Daixanos can shoot the chandeliers down and the candles will burn through the vampire.”

“Does anyone need bound armor before we go in?”

“All I need is steel.” Piper said confidently, masking her fear. “I can deal with the rocks-for-brains no problem. I’ll have them primed for smashing in no time.” She glanced at Dar’Jzo and Narzul nervously. “This is your chance to not completely fuck something up, Piper. This is your chance to actually earn some respect.”

“Just be ready to drop those shelves...even my shield won’t last long against living stone.”

How would she get their attention, though? Didn’t seem smart to just run at them...maybe banging on her shield? The Imperial had read a book once that explained that smacking one’s shield with their weapon was a gesture of challenge. Apparently a few people had even managed to scare away bears with such a technique, but Piper guessed she wouldn’t need to worry about the gargoyles running away from her. It was worth a shot.

“When everyone’s in position, I’ll make some noise to grab their attention.”

The Hunter moved with the others, ready and watchful as he moved. Daixanos had paid little heed to the social interactions of the Landstriders, though he knew each of them by sight, and most by smell. He had been vigil all night from above the fortified manor, and he finally felt like he was getting into the hunt.

Little did he know, he would be finding the grave of his closest friend outside of Blackmarsh.

Daixanos halted outside of the room with the others, hidden and armed, ready to pounce. But it was when he saw the unmoving corpse of Tsleeixth that he stiffened, eyes intent on the corpse, looking, hoping, that Tslee would show any sign of life. But when he didn’t, his eyes changed. His claws flexed and a low hiss escaped his mouth.

If someone didn’t halt him, he would attack the Vampire himself.

The Imperial woman glared at Daixanos with an eyebrow raised. “Hey! You paying attention?” she said, hitting the lizard-man’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “This isn’t the time to be spacing out, grandpa!” Was Daixanos old? Probably not, but all Argonians looked aged and wrinkled to her. Nobody ever complimented the lizards on their beauty, anyway, mainly just how well they could kill.

Narzul approached from behind, psyching himself up for the impending battle ahead as he spun his blade in his hand. He said nothing of Daixanos’ state or Piper’s indignance, but he knew all too well what argonians intent on murder looked like, especially after their invasion on Morrowind. The lizard had his way of preparing for battle, as did he.

These were truly dark days if he had fallen so low as to acknowledge an argonian and a khajiit in the same day, but he made the mistake of assuming Dar’Jzo to be slaver-fodder once, and he’d be loathe to make the same mistake twice with Daixanos. His gaze fell to the dead argonian on the floor before his comrade -- a familiar face from the company, but they were no one he talked to. He didn’t even feel any particular grief for his passing.

“Leave him be,” Narzul finally said to Piper, surprising even himself that he came to the Argonian’s defense, then he looked to Ariane, “we can use his rage. If he’s willing, he can lead the vampire here. The Khajiit can fire the arrow, and I can topple the books without your spells. Then perhaps you can spend your magicka on something else.”

“Whatever the plan,” Dar’Jzo grumbled from behind, “let it be quick. There’s a bloody toll for inaction.”

“Fine.” Ariane scoffed. “You all want to rush in there and die? Be my guest.”

Moving into the doorway, Ariane gave Daixanos a hard shove, both imbuing him with stoneflesh and sending him into the room first. The movement immediately caught the vampire lord’s attention, and he turned to Dax, blood magic charging in his clawed hands. A dark red orb emerged from Nyrehtaud, intending to snuff out Dax. Ariane stepped in just time to dispel it into a fine, cold mist.

Enraged, Nyrehtaud let out a roar and moved toward Dax. He smashed aside a table and hurled a wooden chair toward the Argonian. As he had done so, Nyrehtaud got close, but not quite under the grand chandelier.

“Hold your shot.” Ariane warned Dar’Jzo. “Let him come closer.”

“You two, go; there’s your opening.” Ariane waved Piper and Narzul forward.

There was a line of debris made up of two destroyed gargoyles, Tsleeixth’s shattered ice atronach, toppled tables, twisted curtains and the incapacitated body of Marcel Gawain. This path was at the edge of Nyrehtaud vision. At the other end of the room were the most important people of High Rock trapped between two rampaging gargoyles, rows of bookshelves and the broken stained glass windows overlooking a deadly drop (as Donovan Kirkwall discovered, jumping to his demise). Bahashir af-Nuwarrah, the grandeyo of Hallin’s Stand, noticed the mercenaries and waved for help. However, he was immediately crushed to pulps by a gargoyle. Beside him, Viviene Grennsmark and Draren Thiralas were whacking the other gargoyle with candelabras.

As other mercenaries moved to engage, Ariane noticed that none of them had picked the Nyrehtuad’s penumbric dagger near the doorway. It had a strong disintegrate armor enchantment, no doubt effective against the otherwise impervious stone of the gargoyles. Ariane summoned it to her with telekinesis.

“Speculatus, this will help against them!” Ariane tossed the dagger to Piper. “Just don’t cut yourself with it.”

Piper caught the strange weapon out of the air, looking at the engravings on the blade with confusion. It was unlike any weapon she had seen. The blade, handle and pommel were all one solid piece of what looked at first glance to be brass or copper. The pommel was a grotesque totem, with two grimacing, fanged heads. The blade itself, the strangest part of the weapon by far, started at four corners by the handle, and worked its way down to a menacing point, like some kind of prism.

It was a bewildering specimen indeed, but Piper had one major question. “How the hell is this thing going to help against those beasts?” The Imperial hardly noticed the shimmering aura that swirled around the weapon. She did, however, notice that her glove was disappearing.

“What the fuck!?” Piper instinctively threw the dagger to her other hand, only for the dagger to begin burning a hole in her other glove as well. She felt no heat coming from the blade, nor did it seem to actually do much harm to her naked hands, but it definitely made very short work of her poor gloves.

“Nevermind...I know now!”

For Daixanos’ part, he stepped boldly, some might say suicidally, into the room. Stretching his neck, his powerful shoulders flexed. He didn’t pay any heed to the bickerings of his comrades. It’s why he spent much of his time at the fore or in the woods scouting. Though there were some he enjoyed spending time with. Tslee, for instance. Someone he considered perhaps his greatest friend, and now he lay dead at the feet of this undead abomination.

Daixanos had fought everything from wolves, to men, to giants, and even demons. This spawn of the after life would not escape him either, and he took out his battleaxe, holding it before him menacingly. “You…” he growled, a hiss rumbling from within his powerful neck. “I will slay you, and then squeeze out all of the stolen blood that runs through your veins as a funeral rite to Tsleeixth. Prepare yourself, leech. Your pain will be legendary.”

It was the most Daixanos had spoken in awhile, and his comrades would see a rare sight. One that no one had seen before on Daixanos. It was a grin. A feral grin, like one a crocodile would give before taking a deer at the water’s edge. “Time to die!”

Dax's challenge had the desired effect on the vampire lord. Nyrehtaud, enraged by the audacity of his seemingly insignificant opponents, turned his full attention to Dax. Another red destructive spell flew at the Argonian, one which Ariane barely dispelled and caused Dax to stumble. Nyrehtaud roared, the piercing sound made the ears of everyone near him to ring. Then the vampire lord bared his fangs and claws, and marched towards Dax.

But before Dar'Jzo could shoot the grand chandelier, Nyrehtaud had already dashed through and started swiping frantically at Dax. The vampire lord's movements were fast, though Dax was able to dodge them, for now.

"Draw him back there." Ariane commanded Dax. Then she shouted at Dar'Jzo. "Take aim; we'll only have a split second!"

On the other side of the room, Narzul and Piper had made it to the gargoyles. Narzul spotted a gargoyle right in front of a large bookshelf, with its back turned. However, Narzul could not get the bookshelf to fall over. Maybe it was heavier than he expected, or perhaps it was attached to the wall. Either way, Ariane noticed the Dunmer's futile attempts and jogged over to help. She applied feather to the bookshelf itself, and also throwing a lock-breaking spell behind it to weaken any attachments. Sure enough, the bookshelf started to tumble over.

"Not as easy as it looks." Ariane quipped.

Piper did not have the luxury of a distracted gargoyle. Her target had already killed multiple nobles, and when Piper approached, it greeted her with cold stone features caked in pulverized flesh. The gargoyle pounced at Piper, smashing through tables and chairs in its way. A surviving nobleman gasped at the sight of a young knight about to be crushed to pulp. No one expected Piper to hold a weapon capable of dismantling the rock monster.

The wretched stench of gore coming off the beast nearly made Piper choke, it was so vile. The Imperial held her breath as she entered a defensive stance, shield raised, ready for the impact of the charging hunk of stone. At the last moment, she took a swift step to the side, using the monster’s own momentum to shove it away with her shield as it passed.

It was so sure of its target that, when the gargoyle ultimately missed, it was unable to compensate for its leap and landed unevenly, stumbling across the floor. Piper seized the opportunity and made a great stride towards the gargoyle, moving to plunge the dagger into it. If one were to ask her, she did not really believe it would do much even after the demonstration on her glove. After all, what would a puny butterknife like that do to solid stone, even with such an enchantment? When the tip of the blade made contact, however, Piper let out a gasp. The dagger dug into the creature’s forearm, and before her eyes the limb began to crumble, the clawed hand crashing to the floor into several pieces. The gargoyle unleashed a sound of clattering gravel, an approximation of a roar. Piper doubted it came from pain.

It did not feel pain or real fear, but the gargoyle did seem to have some semblance of a survival instinct, as instead of leaping blindly at her the beast paced side to side, looking for an opening. The knight did not intend on giving it one. Shield ready, Piper took measured steps towards the gargoyle, slashing and lunging at it with the dagger to force it onto the defensive. Step by step, Piper was leading it towards the teetering bookcase set into motion by Ariane.

“Back! Back, you clattering pile of shit!” The beast was still retreating, but had started to take swipes back at the knight. Her arm was still weak from the beating she got from the werewolf during the battle with the Golden Slug, and with every blocked strike she felt herself growing weaker. Almost there…

“Get ready…!” She shouted at Ariane and Narzul, straining against the gargoyle’s assaults.

Piper’s sass and spirit in battle was something of the infectious sort, for when she slowly lured the creature beneath the shadow of the grand bookshelf, Narzul found himself also wanting to admonish the creature for daring to exist in opposition of him. With a strained heave, he pushed against the bookshelf, shouting an insult of his own to give himself strength.

“Become dust, you son of a s’wit!”

Become dust it did, beneath the crushing weight of a hundred or so copies of the Lusty Argonian Maid and the mighty girth of wood upon which she was shelved as they came tumbling down upon it.

Both gargoyles were caught by the bookshelves. The one weakened by Piper was completely crushed, leaving behind nothing but powdered chunks beneath wood and paper. The other gargoyle fared slightly better, with only its limbs and torso immobilized by the bookshelf, it still thrashed beneath the weight. It was vulnerable now, and Ariane wasted no time in severing its “head” with her bound sword, thus ending the gargoyle threat for good.

Back near the entrance, the battle between vampire and mortals raged on. Nyrehtaud was gaining the upper hand on Dax, but their position came perfectly under the grand chandelier. The argonian, whether it was valiance or thirst for vengeance, parried or blocked the savage blows that he could with his mighty axe endured and endured what he could not. Dar’Jzo meanwhile remained hidden behind a column between himself and the vampire, knowing that darkness would be no veil before the monster. He lined up his arrow to the base of the fixture from which the chandelier was hung. He was no monster hunter, but he figured that when in doubt, use silver -- and he loosed the arrow.

Clank!

“Daxainos! Move!” Ariane shouted.

The chandelier came falling over their heads, and the argonian did as he was commanded, leaving the vampire lord alone beneath the crushing weight of the silver spiral artistry. Nyrehtaud was brought to his knees and the delicate silver was splintered into sharp shards that sunk into his undead flesh. Then the candles spilled free from their seats, drenching Nyrehtaud in wax and setting him aflame.

Nyrehtaud howled like a dying beast. It was time to finish him off.

Daixanos hadn’t lived in the wilderness of Skyrim for years without gaining a sense of his surroundings. As the chandelier dropped, Dax felt the sudden shift in air pressure and the small ‘clink’ of the parted metal knots, and he leaped out of the fray with the energy of a wildcat.

When the smoke and shattered bits of glass and metal cleared, Daixanos beheld the vampire. Impaled and burning, Nyrehtaud was clearly stuck to the ground and lashing back and forth in denial of his predicament. Were it a being different than a Vampire, Dax would have felt unfair finishing him off to win a fight. But blood suckers deserved less than Falmer, in his book.

Stepping forward, his taloned hands gripped the haft of his axe as he raised it like an executioner. Nyrehtaud saw his doom approaching, vainly trying to move out of the wreckage even as his flesh burned like dry leaves. When it was evident it was futile, with one last curse to all the Gods, the axe descended.

The blade cut through his head like a melon.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Options

You must post in the OOC or PM me which you will choose before you post.

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Options for those outside:

• Forage for food
• Make camp
• Prepare a watch

Options for Renar, Nadia, and Avery

• Search the courtyard
• Ascend to the wall
• Keep an eye on Balidvar

Options for Aidann and Morgan

• Search the Courtard
• Enter the first hall
• Enter the Stables

Warhammer Fantasy: From Small Beginnings...

Burundi had not forgotten, as a Dwarf never forgets. But he had assumed they had decided to eschew the whole 'meeting' they had planned on yesterday. They were all here, fresh, and ready! What was the problem? Say what you will about the Dawi, who's conservative stances and indecisive grumbling can last decades. At least when they decide something, they don't take a tour of the local manor so they can then ask more questions.

Still, he didn't complain. He had all morning to venture into the woods and cut down whatever threatened his new livelihood. If the manlings wished to be comforted with asking the local clan leader a query or two, he wouldn't deny it to them. Some useful knowledge might yet be gleamed, after all. He didn't put much stock in these manlings but even an Elgi was right twice a day, as the saying goes. A Dwarf was nothing if not patient.

Passing through the building's doors, he did his best not to scoff at the 'magnificent' statue that had been erected outside. It was good, for human work. But he could see over half a dozen imperfections, and he wasn't even a stone mason. How these long legged fools had managed to survive this long was anyone's guess. He realized, after a moment, he was being unfair. Men had value in ways other than craft and manner...and food...and beer...and intelligence...and weapons...and music...

They passed by the young Johan.

"...and names." He whispered to himself.

As they all stepped into the upper chamber, the others were greeted by yet again the one eye from yesterday, who sat in his resplendent hall for all to see and gaze upon. To one's surprise, Burundi's eyes were inevitably drawn to the greatsword of Dwarf make, with the mark of Karak Ziflin upon it's steel. To see it was a breath of fresh air. He gave a small prayer of thanks to Grungi before Dietrich shared his news.

That's a lot of men to be lost over the course of a week or two. Any Dwarf hold that lost that much would have sent out a party of rangers and a militia of Dwarf warriors to find out what happened and to right whatever grudge had stolen the lives of their kin. How could this be allowed to continue so blatantly? Still, as offended as he was, he knew he needed to help in solving this problem or it would be allowed to continue.

"Disappearances?" Burundi echoed, considering into his beard. He placed his polearm down gently as he began to think on what might be the cause. "Maybe these beastman theories hold true, after all. That or other worshipers of the ruinous powers using them for some dark ritual or..." His eyes widened in abject shock, and he held his hands out as if to hold himself steady in case the building began to collapse by his sheer rationale. "You don't have Elves in these woods do you!?"

Current Mood in One Gif

Myriad Reality

@LegendBegins I'll bring it up with the other mods, because everyone deserves a fair shot at appeal. But it might take a day since it's late in the states.

Myriad Reality

Hey, don't mind me. Keep doing what you're doing. But this is clearly a free roleplay so I'mma move it there.

Hider

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Alright folks, the post is up! Tomorrow I'll be giving info on the thread for your options, but if you want to reply now beforehand on a general reaction, go right ahead!