The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 6 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
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6 yrs ago
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Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
6 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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7 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
7 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
7 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.
Bio
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten
I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.
My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.
Most Recent Posts
@The Harbinger of Ferocity Just clarifying hehe.
Also part of why he is altering his tactic preemptively - the rules of engagement have changed.
On another note, I will be unable to post again until much later today.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity Are you attempting to burn him?
Attempting to use a pretty standard druid tactic of Heat Metal to get him to disarm or attempt to remove his armor. While I am certain he won't be bothered realistically, my character is unaware of that; nothing definitively proves yet that this man is not just using darker forces to ignore injury, death or pain.
The immediate response of "No," was what the man uttered, gesturing changing slightly to alter the spell of which he had been preparing, "But I know now nothing is as it seems."
In spite of his flesh wound, the man continued the spell, having assessed the situation once more for what it really seemed; the phantasms were no idle thing, frail, but only at this hour of light and against readied foes. The addition of a young lady of the bow no less changed the plan of approach some, but it was a welcome change - no normal man could so casually shrug off the deep end as this one did, not without a darker force at work... magical at the very least.
His spell prepared and only delayed in brief, the common man, with his ragged brown cloth tinged crimson, splayed his fingers forth toward the nightmarish smile of the drow-elf; a magic determined to be no idle threat to anyone bearing metal. A dim orange glow of rising heat began radiating from the chain mail and sword itself, of which furthered to slowly rise in intensity - threatening becoming searing and white hot in moments.
The leopard, having been banished to ether once more, faded away like this mist it was before, leaving the orc and Man of the Ways clear line to the enemy. It was in this time the man prepared but another spell - one much more defensive.
Hands taking on a faint golden aura, they gestured more in rolling, turning motions that were warding the body.
@Shade
In spite of his flesh wound, the man continued the spell, having assessed the situation once more for what it really seemed; the phantasms were no idle thing, frail, but only at this hour of light and against readied foes. The addition of a young lady of the bow no less changed the plan of approach some, but it was a welcome change - no normal man could so casually shrug off the deep end as this one did, not without a darker force at work... magical at the very least.
His spell prepared and only delayed in brief, the common man, with his ragged brown cloth tinged crimson, splayed his fingers forth toward the nightmarish smile of the drow-elf; a magic determined to be no idle threat to anyone bearing metal. A dim orange glow of rising heat began radiating from the chain mail and sword itself, of which furthered to slowly rise in intensity - threatening becoming searing and white hot in moments.
The leopard, having been banished to ether once more, faded away like this mist it was before, leaving the orc and Man of the Ways clear line to the enemy. It was in this time the man prepared but another spell - one much more defensive.
Hands taking on a faint golden aura, they gestured more in rolling, turning motions that were warding the body.
@Shade
Sorry i had no idea how the money system worked here. I'll try to be more on point if i can.
I would treat the economy as mostly mundane and non-magical, meaning most commoners are lucky to even have a gold; most merchants only own a purse of coin at a time, no more than ninety to a hundred likely. A random example, a decent sword might run you seven to ten gold. Magical items?
Well, there's a reason adventurers exist. Someone has to go out there and keep the trade in arcane and wondrous things - who knows what a wand or even a scroll could go for? The other issue being that unless you're schooled in magic, it isn't likely to work at all for you.
Of course that's speculation based on the brief conversations I have had with @Shade, but I take it I am not far off.
This has been the longest half hour
This, so much of this.
I am sure those not directly involved might take notice to the turn of events, @Shade. Albeit I am curious how this current set of events will pan out - it sounds as though a leopard, a druid, an orc and a monk might not be enough.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity I am inclined to ask for your characters sake whether the creature you summoned is in any way tied to your characters form? For example if it dies your character is injured etc.
Standard Summon Nature's Ally conjuration spell, so the worst that becomes of it is a wasting of the spellcaster's time and mental energy. It'll just disappear back into ether as it isn't truly even a creature.
That latest post was meant to be tagged with @Shade and @Gentlemanvaultboy. My apologies.
Also, this calls for more conjuration. Furious leopards for everyone.
Also, this calls for more conjuration. Furious leopards for everyone.
The footfall heard before had at last found its way to the stalled fray in the form of a pale elf - a man no less with a dark glint of ill, malevolent intent in his eye. Letting out a hearty cackle, he tossed aside the broken mace head where it slid to the felled orc who steadied himself despite the bloody fury calling from within the destroy these thugs. With a clink to the pale elf's step and motion from the vibrant color of his chain shirt, he brandished a blade of which held a faint yellowed glint; magic, beyond a doubt.
Pointing forth the sword with a menace, he spurred the men to attack, which they did.
"You had your chance to walk away." The man muttered as he flexed his gesturing hand, pulling back in footwork as the whirl of a thrown blade cut across and through the side of his shoulder; crimson welled from the glancing blow, of which was deep enough that it was sure to leave a scar.
In one fluid motion as his rebuke, the man with but a single gold to his unspoken name cast his hand out while the red ran down that same limb.
The place between the elf and the two thugs left suddenly found itself not so empty as the air shuddered with an unnatural stir and a savage growl. A roiling mist billowed into existence for a moment and as it settled in that same time - a being of pure magic melded into form and became tangible. A fierce set of eyes belonging to a jungle cat set themselves upon Cario and lunged from below his blade, razor claws freed and calling for his flesh.
Having divided the conflict up, separating the men from their leader in the way of furious leopard, the thugs found themselves caught between their enemies. It was either to take up arms against the orc and robed man, or the cat - the interloper beside the door preparing another spell.
Pointing forth the sword with a menace, he spurred the men to attack, which they did.
"You had your chance to walk away." The man muttered as he flexed his gesturing hand, pulling back in footwork as the whirl of a thrown blade cut across and through the side of his shoulder; crimson welled from the glancing blow, of which was deep enough that it was sure to leave a scar.
In one fluid motion as his rebuke, the man with but a single gold to his unspoken name cast his hand out while the red ran down that same limb.
The place between the elf and the two thugs left suddenly found itself not so empty as the air shuddered with an unnatural stir and a savage growl. A roiling mist billowed into existence for a moment and as it settled in that same time - a being of pure magic melded into form and became tangible. A fierce set of eyes belonging to a jungle cat set themselves upon Cario and lunged from below his blade, razor claws freed and calling for his flesh.
Having divided the conflict up, separating the men from their leader in the way of furious leopard, the thugs found themselves caught between their enemies. It was either to take up arms against the orc and robed man, or the cat - the interloper beside the door preparing another spell.
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