You're an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other. Thanks!
@ClockTowerEchos - Interested in joining either of the quests? You're the only one not in them. You don't have to join, totally optional :) Just making sure to be inclusive of everyone
I'd recommend starting off by showing how your characters earned their placement in the Grand Melee, then playing out the initial bit of fighting amongst the competitors before the creatures show up. From there, just control your character, while I control the NPCs and critters :D
Anyone with an accepted Ebonfort Character Sheet, that doesn't already have a character in this quest, can still join this, simply let me know
Warden Knights Geoff and Teskin were seated at the long table in front of the Grand Melee. "Boy, more wine!" The young Anuirean boy, crimson maned, rushed forward with the jug, clanking clumsily in his armor. He poured the wine into the large orc's goblet, the human next to him laughing hysterically at some joke. Four Wardens sat as judges, along with a handful of captains, all waiting for the Grand Melee to begin. The lesser knights had already been dispatched toward Scream Watch. They would likely lose a lot of them, but that happens when Screamers are involved. It was why they held these recruitment tournaments.
They all stood as a massive male Char in the finest Ebonsteel armor, trimmed gold, with a crystalline sword strapped to his back, walked out to the center of the Grand Melee arena. Every Knight stood at attention and watched him somberly. This was one of the strongest fighters in existence, Lord Knight Svarak, commander of the Citadel. The crowd quieted. In a loud, booming voice, "Welcome to the Mauven Tournament. It fills my heart with pride to see all of you here, enjoying the strengthening of our ranks through pure competition. Competition is the pillar which makes Ebonfort strong. And strength is why we still endure and thrive when every other civilization has fallen. Might makes right!"
He paused a moment as every citizen repeated the standing motto of Ebonfort, before continuing, "So enjoy yourselves, drink, eat, gamble, and laugh. As for the fighters. Fight hard, fight for your country, your family, your friends, but most importantly, fight for yourself. It is each and every one of you that makes our empire strong. So prove your worth." He turned and walked toward the stands, for he was not a judge, but merely a patron. He was far too important for such trivial work.
The moment he left the arena, the horn blew signaling the beginning of the Grand Melee. After many had fallen, a cloaked man, face obscured, ran out from the stands into the arena. Once he reached the center of the arena, he ripped off his cloak, revealing his skin covered in crimson vine tattoos. He thrust his arms skyward, letting loose a gut-wrenching scream nearly everyone know, a Scream War Cry. The very same cry they were named after. At the edges of the arena, squires were scrambling to draw their weapons and stop this deranged enemy.
For those closest to the man, their sixth senses went into overdrive. They would all be able to feel something wrong with the world, but couldn't quite place it yet. Then the crack appeared in the air several feet above him. Those nearby could hear the winds rushing out of the crack, could feel the heat it emanated. They could make out intimate details of the mountainous, volcanic world through the crack as it widened. They could see the two suns in the sky. And they were the first to hear the reptilian roars.
An ogre with his club, who'd dispatched several participants, had moved toward the man, raising his club high. He brought it down at the man's head, only for it to suddenly stop a foot above him, and shatter into splinters. These shards flew outward, blinding the ogre, sending him stumbling backward in pain before falling over. The roars grew louder, and single, reptilian head popped into view, looking at the stands, roaring at fellows of its kind behind it. It slinked through and dropped to the grass, and immediately took off toward the stands.
A second, smaller creature dropped through. The creature was not something anyone had ever seen before, not even the most seasoned of hunters. It was twice as tall as a warhorse, and three abroad. It was muscle bound, covered in protective bony plates, with row upon row of viciously curved teeth.
Those in the arena could already hear the screams of panic and distress from the onlookers, but clearly had a much larger problem on their hands. This one immediately charged the downed ogre, both heads biting it's large, bulky body. To the keen observer, they could see the skin around the teeth of one head turning green and fetid, while the area around the other sizzled and turned black. Satisfied the ogre was dead, it cast its gaze to the closest combatant, preparing to charge, roaring in presumed victory.
I recommend yall starting off with whatever brought your character to the Tournament and how they participated. Then ya know... reacting to shit hittin the fan.
Anyone with an accepted Ebonfort Character Sheet, that doesn't already have a character in this quest, can still join this, simply let me know
Trix hummed lightly to herself, sitting atop her table on the edge of the Grand Melee, awaiting for it to start. This was always a favorite event of hers to watch. Roughly fifty men and women of all varieties of species fighting with heavily weighted wooden weapons, all for a chance to become a Knight. The Knights did a great job protecting the realm, and the more they prospered, the more everyone's lives improved. And this was great for her business. The Knights paid for each treatment she dispensed, so long as she provided the proper paperwork. They did love their paperwork. And she wasn't the only one here, there were medics from all over. She'd spent the entire morning trading various herbal recipes and techniques, between treating those injured in the initial competitions.
It was a bit disconcerting that most of the proper Knights had left for Scream Watch. But that was their duty. At the very least, a bunch of squires were left behind. Trix kicked her legs, swishing her long skirt playfully, as the horn sounded, indicating the beginning of the Grand Melee. The participants began fighting fiercely, the sound of wood striking wood and flesh thudding over the arena, cheers and jeers as favorites fell. As the group was thinned down to roughly fifteen people, a man broke out from the stands.
He was covered in a dark, hooded cloak, and he hopped over the barricade, running for the center of the arena. Most of the combatants were too busy to notice him, but the crowd grew curious and interested. Squires began scrambling to get into the arena to stop him from whatever interruption he was planning. The man ripped off his cloak, revealing his tattooed body, markings of crimson vines, threw his arms above his head, and let out a blood curdling scream that everyone know. It was a Screamer War Cry, what they were given their name from.
Several feet above his raised hands, it looked as if there was a small crack in the air, and a rushing of wind was felt by all those near the man. The squires all stopped in their tracks, as the crack widened. Those able to see it could make out a fiery, volcanic world in as high of a detail as if it existed right there in the arena. It opened quite wide, as several reptilian roars rang out from within.
A single participant, a large ogre with a massive club lumbered up to the Screamer, and swung his club down. Normally it would've crushed any unsuspecting person, but the club stopped about a foot from the man's head and shattered into splinters, blinding the ogre, who fell away, bellowing in pain. The reptilian roars grew louder, until finally a single head popped into view, looking at those in the bleachers. It screeched in triumph and called out behind, when it's second head came into view. It leapt through the opening in the air and landed heavily on the arena dirt.
The creature was not something anyone had ever seen before, not even the most seasoned of hunters. It was twice as tall as a warhorse, and three abroad. It was muscle bound, covered in protective bony plates, with row upon row of viciously curved teeth. It roared once more, and charged the nearest stand, ripping through the first line of squires with relative ease, mostly due to the shock and surprise of its arrival. It dove into the stands, clamping down on a single man, and ripping him in half. It then began rampaging around, attacking at the nearest moving people.
It was then that the screams and panic full set in. People scrambled over each other, leaving friends behind to die. The few knights that remained behind to judge the combatants were already moving toward the creature, weapons drawn, spreading out to surround it. They gave out commands to the squires to get people out of the area and protect them. Trix was already off her table, moving toward the carnage, bag of supplies at her hip, ready to start treating and triaging, looking around for the other medics. The creature had several people trapped at the top of the stands, leaving a wake of injured and dead behind it.
Trix came up to the first injured she found, a squire with a massive gash through his plate and chainmail at the gut. He would be dead anytime now. She held his hand, looking down at his eyes, waiting for him to pass. No one should die alone.
You're an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other.
Thanks!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">You're an interesting species. An interesting mix. You're capable of such beautiful dreams, and such horrible nightmares. You feel so lost, so cut off, so alone, only you're not. See, in all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable, is each other. <br>Thanks!</div>
