Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current If anyone has interest in mechs, tabletop games, and some ungodly mixture of the two, go give Lancer by Miguel Lopez and Tom Parkinson Morgan a shot. Its shocking how fun it is to play it.
1 like
8 mos ago
Sun Tzu once said: "If you or your loved ones have contracted mesothelioma, you may be entitled to financial compensation. Call the toll-free number on your screen now to see if you qualify."
2 yrs ago
Beating your meat is a waste of time, when you can beat evildoers instead.
1 like
2 yrs ago
If they just have horns then no. But if they're horny, they best watch out.
2 yrs ago
Horny people are not protected under the constitution, or the law.


No longer an asshole!

Most Recent Posts

Caster of Red - Skuld

"Did you sleep well, my Master?"

Within the air above Jacob Arling, a slight change in pressure could be observed as something moved, flickering particles of light blue converging on a singular point before, as if the air itself was being painted over, the pallid woman that was his Servant emerged. Her feet were firmly pressed against the ceiling, transfixed as if her heels were bolted there like a chandelier before she released her hold on the material. Her descent was gradual, until she stood beside Jacob's desk, off to the left of his seat. Her eyeless gaze would fall upon him as she considered for a moment whether taking the chocolate was a good idea or not.

"I do not know much about the sweets of this time...but I would not turn down an offer from you. If anything is to be discussed first, then let it be this..." Skuld said, before the strange eyes she possessed opened and stared at Jacob.

"To win this war on your behalf, many will die. That is an unavoidable requirement of my Noble Phantasm. There cannot be victory without sacrifice, my master. Blood will fill the grail you seek, but you have time yet to reconsider," the elven caster said, before slowly fixing her gaze on the bar of chocolate, the pointed ears sticking from the sides of her head flicking to and fro in a wiggling motion.

"...What flavor is it?"
"I'm Alice," the werewolf said, following quickly after Brandy. "The watering hole is just this way, down the street...aaaand we're here!" the werewolf would say as she guided Brandy down the very short path to the well, lowering the bucket on a rope, and gathering just enough water for some good 'ol fashioned elbow-grease work. "Also, I'm glad you think the potion was tasty. I tried all kinds of flavors, like bone marrow, cucumber, and even cheese, but for some reason the only one that really works is the Berry Tea taste my mom used to make. The tea, I mean. Not the potion," Alice over-explained.

"Soooo...why do you want to be an adventurer Brandy? Got a motivating backstory? I've been told a lot of adventurers have 'sob stories' just like mine according to Ms. Bavaloure, so I just kinda figure that most have some sort of novel-worthy motivation. Like, maybe a boyfriend got stolen, maybe a dragon ate your dog...stuff like that," Alice said, tail swishing as she talked and walked, heading back to the guild hall with bucket in hand, and eager to clean. So eager in fact that Brandy would notice the wolf girl was doing a majority of the work without even being asked to just on account of how fast she was moving.
The scent of a burning body was something that the nomad girl never wanted to smell again, after a point having stuffed a small clot of grass into each of her nostrils to drown out the stench. The Lizard Fighter was as resourceful as ever, grinding down the rusted weapons to salvage any usable metal to be sold to a blacksmith, and the druid was doing her best to get the girl back into shape with some water that was rejected. Seeing the red-headed girl so helpless and just...apathetic reminded her of one of her baby siblings when he was young. At the mention of a dagger, Steppe Archer patted the skinning knife on her hip which, while not a real dagger, did well in a pinch.

The night air was crisp and the moon shone brightly over them as the fires finished burning, the nomad girl moving to put out the embers with clumps of dirt which were soon wetted by little bits of water from her canteen. It was a shame that they couldn't just camp out in the field...she was certain that the farmer was going to be irate and ornery at being woken up at an hour like this. Seeing as how Big Red was now occupied carrying their damsel, Steppe Archer's hands would be best fit to carry the longsword. Looking it over and turning it slowly in her hands, the girl wondered if she should keep it or sell it...but that decision was for another time. For now, she simply had to carry it along the road with the party along with whatever weapons could fit in her sparsely packed satchel. Without her potion and antidote, her load was consisting of a single change of clothes that were on the druid's person. ...The rumbling of her stomach was telling her that was a stupid, stupid idea to begin with, as now she was left to walk hungry in the cold night air.

Sighing slightly, the girl would make ready to leave, all the while keeping an eye out for movement in the woods. She knew that wolves walked to the north, but she was especially careful of seeing any potential goblin tracks. If an away party was sent out from the cave some time ago for some reason, they may have to deal with them while the abused girl weighed their strongest fighter down. Luckily, she had eyes like a hawk, and with the moon shining so brightly even the goblins couldn't hide from her if they reared their ugly heads. With sword in hand, and a hand kept securely on her knife, the girl would say: "We should make for the farmhouse quickly. These goblin arrows will work for now, but I can't even hunt us any game if it means getting rust in the animal's blood..." she said, her mild complaint echoed by the slight gurgle of her stomach. They had no time to snack!
"That was a restoration potion! I only let you have a little, but it was plenty to help up that cut," the werewolf girl said in response to the satyr's enthusiasm to being healed. She'd simply nod at the receptionist not needing anything to clean up the goat blood everywhere on her suit. She had no place in the conversation as the hall's leader emerged, the werewolf giving the most military-proper salute and posture ever, holding it for as long as necessary.

Up until she was addressed, Alice was holding her breathe, used to the strict hierarchy of the Alchemist's guild. At the suggestion of the billboard, she jumped over. Literally. She jumped like, ten feet vertically and hurriedly looked over the requests. Before she could even find one though the hall leader's eyes felt like they were boring into the back of her skull, causing her to turn around and shakily look her in the eyes. "MA'AM YES MA'AM PLEASE DON'T KILL ME MA'AM!" she said before rushing past the leader so fast that it might have made her hat spin as she got to work cleaning up, all the while making the saddest puppy noises like, ever. Spooky dead eyes scared her. Eyes weren't supposed to be like that! Not even fish-eyes!
Off in a little corner of the G.O.R.E. building sat a rather inconspicuous individual reading by herself, a bushy tail wagging slowly behind her, to and fro. She seemed at peace despite the numerous leaves seemingly stuck fast in the fur of her tail, unnoticed tag-alongs from her time spent in the woods finding a lost cat and nearly getting her eyes gouged out by it. Any scratches were now healed, and the girl's hands were occupied with reading over a set of thin sheets of paper before the door KER-SLAMMED open. Her canine ears reflexively fell flat against her head at the sudden loud noise, eyes wide as she stared at who it could be, only to see a goat-lady walk in, wearing the kinds of clothes that her dad said "Set the wrong kind of example for fellas". Wow! She was setting all kinds of wrong examples!

It wasn't in her nature to eavesdrop, but having ears about x100 better than a human's kind of meant that you just...eavesdropped everywhere. It seemed the girl was to be a fresh G.O.R.E. Girl, intent on defending the peace and probably saving a bunch of cats, just like her! Wow, that's great!

Then, she started bleeding everywhere! Wow, that's NOT great!

Rising from her seat the werewolf would adjust her skirt and pat it back into place before approaching the girl who was bleeding everywhere, making a mess for the receptionists and generally causing a ton of panic. With a flick of her wrist and a swift uncorking, the girl suddenly had a glass vial to the satyr's lips and poured in a about half of the vial's liquid that faintly tasted of a mix of tea leaves and sweet berries, before the girl's wound miraculously closed...and it probably made her breathe smell really, really nice.

Smiling warmly, the wolf girl's ears bounced up and down in tandem with her tail, turning her entire body to the receptionists. "I can make you a detergent that washes blood out of clothes, if you need it! I don't have anything to get blood out of paper...buuuut, I could help you remake the papers!" the girl said, seeming eager to make herself useful, all the while her bushy tail was brushing against the satyr's stomach, indirectly tickling her.
Lovely weather in here.
There was no need to even ask the nomadic girl if she wished to help with the pyre or not; all people deserved a burial, regardless of who they were. Even a cremation counted in her eyes. Her task off providing the herbs to soothe the girl's injuries was over, so now she could help their lizard friend build up their stock of wood to burn. Human bodies would burn, but to actually turn most of the bones to ash would take a lot of heat.

She would gather wood as well as, focusing on gathering the dryer woods to get the temperature up quickly. ...Unfortunately, no matter what they did, this was going to reek like death. A burning corpse wasn't a pleasant smell. With her wood gathered, Steppe Archer would turn to the corpses laying on the ground and knit her hands together in prayer. "Spirits of ancestry, witnesses of your children's deeds, let these brave souls pass peacefully into your embrace..." she said, giving the best prayer her culture could manage; one reserved for warriors that died in battle defending their families. It may not have been the most accurate, but without a proper priestess, a prayer for fallen warriors was the best the Steppe Archer could do.
When told that Druid girl needed some herbs, Steppe Archer wasted absolutely no time in leaving with her little fairy friend to go and find them. "You got it!" she said before scampering off into the night with the fairy on her shoulder. With a description of the flower in question, the nomad girl headed off to the north of the goblin cave by following a constellation. It was easier to make her way back from coming North, since she just had to find the constellation again and walk in the opposite direction. Thankfully she would find a cluster of the flowers in place not too far away from the nest. With ginger precision she would pluck the flowers out from the roots, getting a grand total of eight of the herbs. She had no idea how many were needed, but she had to imagine that this many must be sufficient. And if she needed more, she could always circle the least that's what she thought until her keen eyes caught the signs of old wolf tracks. They weren't close by, but it was a good indication that going further out meant venturing into dangerous territory.

With her bounty in hand, the archer would return after shooing off some badgers that seemed to be attracted to the smell about her. She was glad that animals seemed to steer clear from the goblin's nest, making her trek back fairly uneventful. When she came upon the druid girl once again, she proudly presented her eight herbs, asking: These are the ones, right? Do you need some more, or is this enough?"
Seeing as how the Druid Girl was now mostly naked save for her underwear, the nomad girl would take it upon herself to hurriedly dig through her pack and toss her tribal dress at her. If they were going to go talk to that farmer, they should do it fully dressed. Of course, now it would have made more sense to give the dress to the naked girl...but...didn't want to overstep and undo Druid Girl's gesture. A smile was on her lips as Big Red carried the girl, and had the decency to offer a final rite for the deceased. It eased her mind a bit that they would at least have a funeral of some kind, even if it was an impromptu cremation far away from their homes.

With torch in hand, the archer would carefully step through the cave's chambers as they ascended. Once the cool scent of the night's air broke the dank musk of the cavern, the archer would let out a sigh of relief. They'd still have to go get the two other adventurer corpses, but from here it looked like they were home free. "I can keep watch until we can move away from here. If you need to, by the way, you can cut some of my dress off for bandages. She needs it a lot more than I do," the archer said, not seeming to at all mind the idea of an important piece of her cultural identity getting scrapped for bandages. She just hoped that she could do good reality, all she had managed to do was kill Goblins. She was of the mind right now that she was the weakest link amongst them; She didn't have the magical powers of the druid which, while only usable thrice had saved the Lizard Fighter's life, and the Lizard Fighter was possessed of a naturally resolute soul, capable of weathering pain and injury as if it was rain cascading off his scales. All she had was her bow.

She was almost certain that if the two had gone alone, they would have been fine without her if not a bit worse for wear. If she and the Druid girl were alone, they would be dead for sure. If her and the Lizard Fighter were alone, she doubted that both of them would make it back alive. Within the girl was the growing desire for strength to protect others, wrapping tightly around her heart. ...She needed to be better.
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