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Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread

LET'S FUCKING GO BYLETH FOR SMASH BABYYYYYYYYYYY

Cooking Fantasy maybe?

@RabidporcupineIt's no problem! Take your time. We want this RP to be the best it can be, after all.

In terms of mapmaking, have you thought of Inkarnate or Azgaar's Fantasy Map Generator? I've found that both tend to be slightly easier to work with than GIMP.

Cardinal Rift

ℝesults

---

• North Keep
  • Drakus’s rallied guards have succeeded in rounding up survivors. They now return to the mini hospital. Many of the survivors are in shock.
  • They’ve found 1 more doctor, as well as 4 people with some sort of medical training.
  • They mention a rampaging avian beastman who's destroying property and being generally disagreeable.
• East Keep
  • Aelious has successfully rallied most of the survivors into keeping themselves alive by using as much magic as possible.
  • A small crowd of about 25 approaches the setup in South Keep. 1 has medical training. Many are in shock.
  • Rendyl lands near the crowd, spooking them a bit.
  • A few unreasonable people get mad at her for no reason.
• West Keep
  • Victor is lying down and being sick.
  • A scuffle breaks out as people fight over food.
• South Keep
  • Drakus sets up a mini hospital- gets most of the people to get there.
  • Abigail’s clearing has helped many less-injured sit together and attempt to recuperate from the blast. Most of her soldiers are deviating to Drakus’s group.
  • The mini hospital is starting to run out of water.
• All the wells in the Keep are completely dry.
• The grey is starting to shift in faster patterns outside of the bubble. Some people near the edges are starting to claw unsuccessfully at the barrier.

𝔸rthur 𝕂othlin

---

It was going so well- they had passed almost every policy. The beastman thing had hardly even mattered- it was a simple request by the investors back at home, not even a personal vote. He’d said what he needed to say. Reina and Melodia had done amazingly, even if there were a few choice words they’d had to say about him.

The policies were sent off. He’d gone back to his room to confer with Elias and Hania. They’d been thrilled to hear the results- Elias, champion of beastman rights, Hania, with her fiery pushes for education reform.

And yet, even after losing the day’s battle, the South had found a way to strike back at him. They hadn’t even had time to celebrate.

The three of them were inside his room, having been discussing their next plan of action when the bomb went off. It had felt like seconds later when they woke up, the room upside down, furniture and luggage everywhere. “Lord Kothlin…” Hania said, her speech slurred. She was kneeling next to him, shaking him insistently. Her face had been shredded by vase shards during the blast. Both of her eyelids drooped, and she bled from several lacerations along her cheeks. He could see some muscles through the blood.

“Where’s Elias?” Kothlin stood up. He’d taken off his powersuit for the talks. He looked around. Angeline was safe, thankfully. It’d take more than a 4 meter fall to damage her.

“I’m not sure, my lord,” Hania said, teeth grinding together in an effort to bear through the pain. “I can barely see, what with my… skin in the way.”

Elias was not as fortunate as Hania. Kothlin spotted two legs jutting out from underneath the overturned bed.

“Oh, lord.” He jumped up and stepped into Angeline. His vision swam. His stomach gurgled, and he felt some acid rising. He pushed it down. It wasn’t the time to be weak.

Angeline’s lights flickered on. The display flashed a quick diagnostics test. Good. No damages.

Kothlin stepped forward, servos balancing his steps. It felt good to be in a suit again. He reached underneath the bed and heaved it up. The bed’s weight was no match for the powerful limbs of his suit. He pushed it aside, crushing an antique painting, and inspected Elias.

It wasn’t good. Blood seeped out from under his robes, painting the carpet a dark, grisly red. His torso was caved in- the bed had crushed his ribs. CPR would be impossible.

It wouldn’t be necessary. Upon closer inspection, he was breathing in sharp, ragged gasps, though they were steadily becoming more and more irregular. Kothlin knelt down.

“Elias…”

“My lord, you survived?” Elias choked up a small amount of blood. “Good, good.”

Hania rushed over. “Don’t die, oh please, Eli, don’t die, we need you. Lord Kothlin needs you.” Her words came out slurred, lip movement hindered by her injuries.

“Hah, don’t know if I’m much…” Elias stumbled over his words. “My lord, the explosion, that was magic. Strong magic. I could feel it. It was powerful, so powerful.”

“Magic, you say?” Kothlin stood.

“Yes.” Elias leaned back. “Ah…”

Kothlin looked down at Elias. He was dead. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, glassy, unfocused.

“Thank you, Elias. You’ve made things clear to me. A good man till the end.” He flicked a few switches in his gauntlet. Angeline’s helmet snapped over his head. The visor flicked down, flashed red, then became clear once more.

Combat mode engaged.

“Hania. Bandage your face, then take cover.” He engaged his legs, walked to the door, and opened it. The hallway plunged down in front of him- a long, long drop to the bottom. He could see several pieces of rooms jutting into the shaft, chaotic, disjointed corners blocking his view of the bottom. Across the hall, the sideways doorplate read Jevin Pachel.

“My lord?”

“Get to the grand hall. Gather up any allies you can find. I’ll meet with you later.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m ending this farce. The South has overstepped their bounds for the last time.”

The powerful motors in his greaves and boots engaged, and he leaped across the hallway and crashed through the door. Debris rained down the hallway, the stone and wood shattering under the reinforced plates of the powerarmor.

Behind the door was Jevin Pachel. He wasn’t dressed in his full plate, the shining armor he wore at ceremonies, but he was wearing some light mail and greaves. Good. Arthur hated striking down unarmored opponents. They crumpled too easily under the powersuit’s grip.

Pachel saw him and stood straight. “Kothlin, what is the meaning of this?”

There was a red-haired woman in House Pachel’s uniform cowering behind an overturned cabinet. She was completely unharmed. Incredible. Pachel’s room was nearly untouched from the blast.

“You know what this is, Pachel. I’m going to end you here and now. You southerners have been looking down on us for far too long. I’m going to show you what the North can really do.” He took a step forward. Pachel didn’t shirk away.

“Did you do this?” the tall warlord said. Even in his powersuit, Kothlin barely stood even in height.

“Don’t play innocent. Look around you, Pachel. That’s all that I need to know your stonging skin is behind this garbage,” Kothlin spat. “Prepare yourself.”

He stepped closer and raised a fist.

“So be it.” Pachel threw out a hand. His eyes flashed.

Incredible pressure. Kothlin’s arm dropped, pushed down by an unseen force. His boots sank into the floor, cracking the stone beneath the carpet. It felt as if gravity had just doubled.

No, not an unseen force. He looked up. Above him, covering the entirety of the room’s ceiling, was a spinning purple circle. Pachel’s gate. No matter. Angeline would take it easily. He pushed forward.

Pachel closed his hand into a fist. The pressure increased. It felt as if every single part of Kothlin’s body was being weighed down with heavy chains, pulling him down, down, down.

“Urgh.. You’ve never done this much before… not even in mock battles…” Kothlin said. Angeline’s sensors... The accelerometer was going insane.

“The mana here lets me truly show my might.” Pachel lowered his hand. He didn’t appear to be angry, just disappointed. And yet, in his eyes, there was a sort of fierce fire, the kind that burned in the heart of a warrior.

The force increased again. Kothlin sank to his knees. Any more and Angeline would start to crumple. Even with the powersuit’s assistance, he could barely lift his arms. He inched forward in a crawl, and ended near Pachel’s boots. The floor cracked, then gave.

Now!

In a last burst of power, Kothlin reached out and seized Pachel by the ankle, right as the floor collapsed. Stone and carpet and wood exploded into shrapnel, sending debris everywhere with a loud crashing noise. The red-haired woman screamed, and grabbed onto an outcropping, only barely catching herself.

The two men crashed into a lower room- another suite. Something crunched under Kothlin’s gauntlet, and Pachel grunted hard. Blood seeped out between his fingers. He tightened his grip. Another crunch as bones gave way underneath Angeline’s vice grip.

More force. The floor gave way again. Angeline’s display flickered, then gave out. Kothlin’s muscles screamed, but the powersuit held. He hit the next floor only moments after dropping. Luckily, the force of the impact was dulled by the padding in his suit. A few bruised ribs, maybe.

More crashing. More falling. The two tore through the floors of the tower, passing survivors and corpses alike on the way down. Angeline took blow after blow from stone, wood, and metal. Kothlin focused all his energy into maintaining his grip on Pachel’s bloodied, broken foot. More impacts. More force. His vision was starting to go. His blood flow began to slow.

Hold… on… longer… Kothlin thought sluggishly. Each individual word came slowly, like his mind was running through molasses.

Pachel stood above him, regal even amongst the whirling chaos of rubble and detritus flying about. Every time a small piece of shrapnel flew close, a tiny gate would open and repel it away. He looked down at Kothlin as a man to an insect. The only difference was, however, the insect had a very, very large set of mandibles. Kothlin maintained his iron grip on Pachel’s foot.

The two crashed through the final floors. They flew, suspended in the air for only the briefest of moments. Kothlin could barely make out the rafters of the Grand Hall flying past as he dipped in and out of unconsciousness.

They hit the floor of the grand hall, cratering the floor and sending lightning bolt-like cracks arcing out through the stone. A shower of wood, stone, glass, and metal followed- the result of their descent to ground level.

A very loud rumbling sounds from within Harrow’s Tower. Most people in the Keep can hear it. People nearby can see it shaking. Dust erupts from it at certain intervals, almost like something is breaking things on the way down.

Anyone in the Grand Hall is now experiencing 3Gs of force pushing down on them. Anyone not wearing a powersuit or equiped with special reinforcements is forced onto the floor in a kneeling or crouching position.

Quest to End the Wars of Oblivion

4. Isabelle (e is important)
5. E

#ffb6c1 Which looks like this!

What's your favorite RP character?

@AmmokkxWhoa! Thanks for the detailed response! I'm going to have fun reading those!

What's your favorite RP character?

@RosebudxoNothing, sorry. I just thought the (of age) bit was funny. You were trying to make sure u didnt end up on a watchlist, yea?

What's your favorite RP character?

@Rosebudxo (of age)

What's your favorite RP character?

Can be yours or someone else's.

Who was this character? What made them so interesting/fun to write/compelling? How did they impact the RP they were in?

I just want to hear some stories. Drop 'em on me!

Cooking Fantasy maybe?

@Rabidporcupine

oh god oh fuck non weeb pictures

next you'll be telling us we have to use IRL faceclaims! the horror!

Cardinal Rift

𝕆ff the ℂoast

---

The sky flared a bright red. The air around Tobias instantly dried. He felt his tongue lump up and expand in his mouth.

Halifax was dead. Tobias ran him through the chest again, just to be sure. Dead.

So why was the gate above him still there?

All around him, his elite force was gradually overcoming the pirates’ resistance. They’d put up a good fight. Even with their slightly superior naval fighting skill, the sheer number of navaliers had eventually overwhelmed them.

The gate was still there. Another mageborn? But where? Somewhere protected, away from the fighting, with optimal sightlines.

Tobias’s eyes narrowed. The wheelhouse. He stepped over a body- he couldn’t tell whose- and began to make his way over, clashing with several pirates as he did so.

The gate was still there- and it was making something. Something very very hot. Even through the boiling heat, he shivered. The amount of power gathering was immense- this was no ordinary mage.

He quickened his pace. The heat intensified. More magic filled the air. He realized that, to his left and right, two more gates opened above the accompanying ships to the Kiana. He didn’t see their inscriptions exactly, but the style of magic was… familiar.

The door to the wheelhouse was locked. He smashed his heel into the door. It didn’t budge. Swearing a curse to the beyond, he summoned a pitiful amount of acid from his own gate. The lock weakened slightly. He bashed it in with his shoulder.

Inside was a woman, slightly shorter than he, facing away from the doorway - out the viewing slots. Ashen hair. Tobias felt a tremor pass through his body. At first, he thought it was mental, but then he realized that it truly was a tremor. The woman had released her magic. Tobias thought fast. He rushed forward, dealt a stunning blow to her skull, grabbed her limp form, rushed out the wheelhouse, took a deep breath, and jumped ship.

A moment of calm passed quickly by as he seemed to hang in the air above the sea. Tobias hit the water. The icy waters instantly cooled him down. Luckily, he had decided to wear light armor, and he was able to somewhat doff it before he surfaced. The unconscious woman didn’t float, and he hastily surfaced and kicked hard to keep them both afloat. Then, a massive explosion sent a shockwave through the ocean. Massive waves blasted Tobias as he treaded water. The woman, thankfully, seemed to almost float. Others, however, were not so lucky. In front of him, several armored navaliers fall into the water and sink like rocks.

In front of him, Tobias saw the Ironmaw as well as Kiana’s accompanying ships go up in flames. It was almost incredible. This woman was able to ignite not one, but three ironside ships. A barrel from the Ironmaw flew past. Tobias swam to it, and draped the woman over it, allowing him to focus on keeping himself afloat.

The battle was over. The remaining pirates aboard the now-sinking Ironmaw were surrendering. Tobias kicked hard as he waited for the Kiana, the only surviving ship, to pick him up.

---

”Casualty report.”

”Thirty-five navaliers lost. Two ironside ships lost- along with most of their crews. Over half of the pirates dead. Every other one captured.”

”Halifax is dead. I saw to it myself.” Tobias leaned grimly against the taffrail, watching the Lapsean waters rush by.

”Understood, sir. I’ll draft the report.” Tobias’s secretary strode away. The man, thankfully, had the head to stay onboard the Kiana and avoid combat. Tobias had been worried that, as a soldier from House Pachel, he would feel the irresistible call of battle. Luckily, he had kept his head and stayed out of the way.

The mission had been a success, yes, but it came at a high cost. Over half of Tobias’s force had died or been heavily injured in the subjugation of what was seemingly a weak enemy. He cursed his impulsivity. Dozens of good men and women, dead. All because he thought his illusion plan would be enough to overwhelm the criminals. He should have seen it coming - should have prepared more for another mage.

Speaking of which, that second mage was probably the only good result of his mission. Tobias had a sneaking suspicion that the woman currently sitting in the hold, bound in zinc ropes and blindfolded, would be his ticket to redemption. Her gate, the hair, her apparent age, it all added up in an interesting coincidence.

It would be a good idea to check on her. He brushed past the mourning sailors on the main deck, past Yolack’s eternally-surprised visage, and climbed the ladder down into the hold.

Each of the surviving pirates was bound, gagged, and chained to the wall. But, for the woman, he had arranged a separate room for her containment. You could never be too careful with mages.

He fished out the key to her pseudo-cell and unlocked the door. She was as he had left her. Bound to a chair, blindfolded, gagged, facing away from the door. He stepped inside and unshuttered the gemlight on his belt, casting a bright glow throughout the room.

“I know you’re awake,” he said.

No response. Of course. The gag. He reached out and undid it.

Still no answer. He stepped back. ”Well, that doesn’t matter. I’ve come with a deal. Miss Rathas Graves. You face trial and likely execution. However, if you truly are who I believe you to be, the family head will wish to see you. That display of power today… it could mean the future to the Graves family.”