If you do intend to go through with this in some regard or fashion, I will certainly be the first to say I cast my lot in.
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
"Welcome 'friend',
I do hope you are not bothered by the abrupt intrusiveness of these, how should we say... change of events? I admit, had there been an easier ends to this endeavor I would have gleefully taken that path, alas getting you here was no small effort for even I to accomplish. However, this is all well beside the point which we both are to confront. You are here now and before you have the impudence to ask, yes, nothing is quite as it seems. I hope that this does not bother you, but if it does that is just a terrible misfortune to meet now, is it not? All the same, you have been so meticulously drawn up from your realm into mine. Yes, I did state 'mine', as it is just that; this world and its functions are my own doing. The entire construct is and was for my own protection, as added insurance you would not cheat fate as it were; who knows what inexplicable events you would conjure up and ruin my efforts.
Oh?
You are uncertain why this chance has befallen you? The simplest answer is that I wish to test you, but that would be lying. Truth would have it that not only do I wish to put your mettle through a trial unlike any other, I am partial to doing it in an amusing fashion - one that keeps you from doing horrible things to me. I note this because try as you might, you are not about to escape my challenges. No, I think I shall instead punish you for such efforts to turn this against me. We simply cannot have you ruining this special occasion, that of finding yourself into my realm, with you gallivanting about to break its rules; that would be numbing to both our minds. So please do not try my patience as I will simply cast you back from the heavens above in a halo of burning failure, that of which stings twice as much in that you failed - not even in the glory of being tested.
Honor denotes that I should state your challenges and divulge a fragment about each of them, although do not expect me to spoil all of my secrets. I should say that the other challenger has proven... less than amusing; I believe I might have erred there, but only in slight. As for you, I will see to it that the pawns placed before you are suitable to your skill. She will not be however, so I formulate within my mind the rationale that one of you will likely eclipse the other. All else barring such a probable exception? That might vary, wildly at that. I suppose I might add that death here means nothing. You will be none the worse for wear than when you began, albeit you only have this opportunity to not disappoint once.
Yes, once.
Fall and I claim victory, simple terms for something so arcane, that I do understand. Succeed and you win my kudos, perhaps something more if it was particularly worthwhile. Try me not by asking for more, I could find many others as you can imagine, so take some shred of pleasure at this invitation and chance for reward. An experience is undoubtedly worth more than most any prize material, is it not? I am content to think so, so I choose to. Such are my ways I suppose, yet at this point you have almost certainly made your choice, at least in heart you have.
So what say you, 'friend'? Care to gamble with your life in a trial of skill outside all time and space, compelled by a strange voice you do not recognize, one that has come from afar and over an immensely distant void in your dreams? Do not doubt the reality you find yourself in, just take comfort in that I will not change it on you. After all...
What do you have to lose?"~ Yours Truly,
The 'Dungeon Master'
What oddities lie in store, one can only wonder, though one truth is clear. Someone, perhaps something, beyond apparent understanding has beckoned you from the dark depths of the unconscious with a call you have not heard before with an almost divine accuracy. It tells you these things and abides by some bizarre, even twisted sense of honor between its formal ramblings. Many questions writhe about, begging for answers, however small they might be. Sadly, there seems not to be any time for that. There exists only the option to pledge your hand bravely, or even foolishly, at this mysterious challenge or decline swiftly - lest this seeming weaver of dreams hides his deceit in wait.
Mundane, heroic and mighty heroes born of science, magic or grit need not worry in their application, but godlike powers need not apply. As in the end, what series of challenges and battles could such an entity face? Evidently this test is meant for those who would still be considered mortal. The cryptic power at hand seems not to even budge in such a case otherwise, almost as if knowingly resisting even the thought of the attempt to work against their intent.
If you think that you might enjoy a series of scaling conflicts played out, this might be for you.
Dungeons and Dragons:
Arm your actual friends with incredibly powerful weapons and magic, then watch them make terrible life choices for themselves under the guise of pretending to be other people who "adventure" for a living while using oddly shaped dice.
Arm your actual friends with incredibly powerful weapons and magic, then watch them make terrible life choices for themselves under the guise of pretending to be other people who "adventure" for a living while using oddly shaped dice.
The startling shout at last signaled the fellow's descent from the skies above, collapsing into a frothing heap made up of battered and bruised flesh, but off again was the orc - ranting and raving as though he was possessed, which was quite apparently an ever increasing probability. Something had him in its throes, but just what it was no one, perhaps not even Orchid, knew yet it had the vibrant spirit to spur him from his dazed stupor by impact, one that would regularly have killed a man, and off to the edge of the stone ramparts; he yelled and spat, his bloodied lips smacking with incoherent but focused anger. Only narrowly had a guardsman been able to save his own life by avoiding the almost nude berserker, others surely dodging his charge as well, now left to watch along with his remaining company as the orc panted and collapsed, adding nothing more than, ”Hgn. Dragon gone.”
We can only hope it is.
Brannor spoke but to himself in thought, exhaling a long, deserved breath as the exhilaration of the battle petered out into nothingness. All that remained was the badly wounded guard and any other defender that took up arms here, the rest was destruction or death. The priestess, or what the imposing man could recall her as, knelt down to lay her hand upon the either foolishly brave or bravely foolish warrior. With a glimmer to her hands, she rekindled the light in his heart, the same that was nearly snuffed out and near effortlessly mended his injuries in a way that suggested a particular talent for the art of healing.
"I will see to it then." Brannor responded, looking the woman over as she took added time to rise to her feet, her own body obviously taxed.
If anyone was going to rouse the half-blood to his feet by muscle alone, it would be the hunter whose frame was no stranger to hauling arms, armor and quarry across rugged wilderness. What changed really now, was that this wilderness was worked by the hands of mortal men and that the thing to be carried was an unconscious man. Short of this, at least they could get off the damned wall before the lightning-gifted leviathan could return for another pass. They fought the beast off once, by divine mandate it seemed. The second time was unlikely to be so successful.
Approaching Orchid, whose body now bore not even the faint echo of the worst he sustained tonight, Brannor took a moment to note both the robed man and his strange icy stalk he had crafted with magic; it bloomed at its top as though it were a mushroom. It did not resemble anything he had ever understood or seen before, but wizardry and sorcery were strange arts. What was stranger yet was that the elder knew something of the Sylvan tongue, or at least owned a tome of the text, and more oddly kept vaguely familiar berries on his person. The outlander knew well what a druid was, but this timeworn fellow was off in his own ways as he fit none of those descriptions in just one way. There was reason to be suspicious, enough to nag at Brannor even now when he looked upon him again.
Brannor provided Torus with an ever so wary and subtle nod whilst sharing a glance, otherwise the man kept his keen senses scrying for another pass by the dragon. After putting his bow to rest, as well as the once knocked arrow, he knelt down to rest his arm around the half orc's back in preparation to drag the man out of the open where he fell into his stupor.
"Help the woman with the rest while I move him out of here." Brannor announced to any of their party who would listen, paying no mind if they did or did not act; that was on their heart and conscious, not his.
With the gritting of his broad jaw some, he hefted the sizable casualty as best he could with uncanny efficiency, ensuring he would not just simply drag Orchid wholly across the ground. There were a number of reasons for this, not the least of which was to avoid awakening the man from his unconsciousness with what might be seen as an attack.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
We can only hope it is.
Brannor spoke but to himself in thought, exhaling a long, deserved breath as the exhilaration of the battle petered out into nothingness. All that remained was the badly wounded guard and any other defender that took up arms here, the rest was destruction or death. The priestess, or what the imposing man could recall her as, knelt down to lay her hand upon the either foolishly brave or bravely foolish warrior. With a glimmer to her hands, she rekindled the light in his heart, the same that was nearly snuffed out and near effortlessly mended his injuries in a way that suggested a particular talent for the art of healing.
"I will see to it then." Brannor responded, looking the woman over as she took added time to rise to her feet, her own body obviously taxed.
If anyone was going to rouse the half-blood to his feet by muscle alone, it would be the hunter whose frame was no stranger to hauling arms, armor and quarry across rugged wilderness. What changed really now, was that this wilderness was worked by the hands of mortal men and that the thing to be carried was an unconscious man. Short of this, at least they could get off the damned wall before the lightning-gifted leviathan could return for another pass. They fought the beast off once, by divine mandate it seemed. The second time was unlikely to be so successful.
Approaching Orchid, whose body now bore not even the faint echo of the worst he sustained tonight, Brannor took a moment to note both the robed man and his strange icy stalk he had crafted with magic; it bloomed at its top as though it were a mushroom. It did not resemble anything he had ever understood or seen before, but wizardry and sorcery were strange arts. What was stranger yet was that the elder knew something of the Sylvan tongue, or at least owned a tome of the text, and more oddly kept vaguely familiar berries on his person. The outlander knew well what a druid was, but this timeworn fellow was off in his own ways as he fit none of those descriptions in just one way. There was reason to be suspicious, enough to nag at Brannor even now when he looked upon him again.
Brannor provided Torus with an ever so wary and subtle nod whilst sharing a glance, otherwise the man kept his keen senses scrying for another pass by the dragon. After putting his bow to rest, as well as the once knocked arrow, he knelt down to rest his arm around the half orc's back in preparation to drag the man out of the open where he fell into his stupor.
"Help the woman with the rest while I move him out of here." Brannor announced to any of their party who would listen, paying no mind if they did or did not act; that was on their heart and conscious, not his.
With the gritting of his broad jaw some, he hefted the sizable casualty as best he could with uncanny efficiency, ensuring he would not just simply drag Orchid wholly across the ground. There were a number of reasons for this, not the least of which was to avoid awakening the man from his unconsciousness with what might be seen as an attack.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
I would say that's a reasonable excuse for not being around as much as you would in the norm, @Norschtalen.
@JaceBeleren, @gcold, yet they are astoundingly more polite and purposeful than the typical spam bots that assault the forums almost nightly in their attempts to encourage us to buy furniture, gamble or some combination of both, while shoutig at us in Hangul.
That said, I suppose to return to the topic, animals as a whole and magical beasts in Dungeons and Dragons are very underrated. Usually they are played as mindless drones by Dungeon Masters, just fodder for the players to slaughter in their quest for experience points. They seldom make up anything of importance or memorability, but I find that playing the beasts true to their actual nature tends to challenge the party pretty significantly. Scaling ultimately gets the better of them, but I have lost more players to predatory creatures of this sort than anything else.
Mind you I tend to play exceptionally low magic settings, so beasts tend to be more reasonably dangerous.
That said, I suppose to return to the topic, animals as a whole and magical beasts in Dungeons and Dragons are very underrated. Usually they are played as mindless drones by Dungeon Masters, just fodder for the players to slaughter in their quest for experience points. They seldom make up anything of importance or memorability, but I find that playing the beasts true to their actual nature tends to challenge the party pretty significantly. Scaling ultimately gets the better of them, but I have lost more players to predatory creatures of this sort than anything else.
Mind you I tend to play exceptionally low magic settings, so beasts tend to be more reasonably dangerous.
The language the terrible blue dragon spoke with unceremonious directness clouded its boastfulness from the ears of many of the men below on the ramparts; the leaping sparks that danced from its even more terrible jaws were enough to mark its vendetta against the hin. They did not know of the "dialogue" the two had engaged in, although at this moment even if they did they likely would not have cared. It was only with the strong, whipping beat of scaled wings that the attacker proved to distance itself from but a stone's throw away and into the night beyond, ending the exchange on its mysterious terms.
Cowl still drawn over his head, the hunter emerged with bow at the ready as his wild heart was still well in the fight, tracking first the sound until his eyes could make out the distant shadow; the creature was gone, mayhap only for a moment, but with it so too was something else amiss. Lowering the weapon, easing the string forward, Brannor listened over the sounds of the wounded men, those few alive but forever maimed by searing lightning, for anything that sounded remotely like the orc's warcry, but found himself instead in apparent silence to that voice.
The entire field of battle atop the wall was littered with scorched stone, air full of static charge and ice crystals, and visibly numerous with arrows and arms abandoned by the living and dead alike, all strewn about... but none appeared to be the mad half-blood.
Turning on point at the sole of his traveled boot, having felt the hairs upon his neck stand on end to something his eyes could not yet see instead rather his spirit felt, Brannor witnessed the other man's return to the earth.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
Cowl still drawn over his head, the hunter emerged with bow at the ready as his wild heart was still well in the fight, tracking first the sound until his eyes could make out the distant shadow; the creature was gone, mayhap only for a moment, but with it so too was something else amiss. Lowering the weapon, easing the string forward, Brannor listened over the sounds of the wounded men, those few alive but forever maimed by searing lightning, for anything that sounded remotely like the orc's warcry, but found himself instead in apparent silence to that voice.
The entire field of battle atop the wall was littered with scorched stone, air full of static charge and ice crystals, and visibly numerous with arrows and arms abandoned by the living and dead alike, all strewn about... but none appeared to be the mad half-blood.
Turning on point at the sole of his traveled boot, having felt the hairs upon his neck stand on end to something his eyes could not yet see instead rather his spirit felt, Brannor witnessed the other man's return to the earth.
@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher@Gordian Nought@Norschtalen
Unfortunately it has become apparent that one of the players will be withdrawing, and thus with two players this adventure is exceedingly unlikely. I will keep this topic open for a few more days, but failing at least one more applicant to replace the now lost individual, this game will sadly be no more.
I admit I am impressed Orchid survived, thankful at that, but what a whirlwind of unexpected events this has been in one encounter. If no one posts by this evening, I certainly will. As for pinning the map, I would say either in the initial post, or in hider beneath the now cleared initiative order.
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