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Unraveller Member

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STATUS: Fire Emblem. But STILL on a forum. 2 yrs ago
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2 yrs ago
Current Fire Emblem. But STILL on a forum.
4 yrs ago
Fire Emblem. BUT ON A FORUM!
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7 yrs ago
Roleplaying is the only thing that gives meaning to my mediocre existence. And cookies too.
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8 yrs ago
Wants to be a saikyou hero.
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Bio


I am a rather middling RPer who likes to believe they are actually at an advanced level. This is of course, nonsense created by my desire to be known as good at something. In otherwords, I'm kinda okay at things and stuff.

Most Recent Posts

In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
Perhaps some need to prove her worth to both her aloof husband, and further perhaps to her father, Lahamu darts from Iddin's side, her hands flurry out from the confines of her thin robes, tracing scorching patterns and divine utterances as she does. Before the brush for which the spearman stands she bellows out a cry, a ray of blistering flame sears through the earth, going wide past the first, but crisping the rebel beyond.

LAHAMU moves to 17-36 and casts SCORCH, missing KASSITE REBEL #1

Standing unfazed by the gouts of fire from the mercenary, the Kassite sucks at his teeth before her. "Hey girlie, that nearly burned my lucky shirt. . !"

LAHAMU: "Shit!" Was all she could muster, the failure of her spell right beside Iddin after that proclamation flushed her face with heat.
In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
Though Iddin's words carry a hollow weight across their backs, the Hellions can't ever help but feel emboldened by the man decrying their foes. Still, ahead, the bandit's keen eye takes ample note of the dissident Kassites, broad of chest and stout of spirit much like their companion Lyun. Ashur interplaces himself between one charging forth for their priest, gleaming iron in the figure's hand, a detail that in that split moment, goes unscrutinized.

ASHUR moves to 16-35 and equips FLAME


LAHAMU: "Iddin-Darling!" A soft voice parts the rumblings of battle. A young woman of slender build and one striking purple eye uncovered by her hair rushes to the gray-drabbed priest. "Don't leave me behind like that! I'm not some useless girl that you need to protect!" She huffs, her goldenrod clothes fluttering in the winds of the broken siege. "Now, how can I help?"



KASSITE PHASE
COMMENCE

KASHTILASHU: "Fight harder you louts! The main forces are in retreat! No sand-sucking coinblades will get the better of us!" The Kassite chief stands from the escarpment of the throne chamber, raising his axe in pre-determined triumph. "Down with the Imperial elites! The day of the Kassites has come!"


The so-called 'Barbarians of Zagros' shuffle about the ruinous outer walls of Der, darting between ruins and yet-still occupied homes brandishing their ill-gotten implements with a fervor and zeal unknown to the likes of mere sellswords. With no proper formation, one of the brigands makes a break for it, barreling across the road towards the exposed Iddin with their iron axe outstretched. There was no doubt that without Zuzu's grace, Iddin's head would be felled. But before the blow could be struck, the bandanna wearing merc steps in.

KASSITE BRIGAND #3 attacks ASHUR with their IRON HAND AXE, but misses!

ASHUR counterattacks with his FLAME, dealing 5 DAMAGE! Gaining 5xp and 1 Mysticism proficiency


With the Divine Language flowing through the black tongue of the Desperado, a streak of vermillion fire erupts from the inscrutable rune glowing midst the dry air. The flying axe is burnt to cinders while the remaining heat strikes out at the warrior, leaving welts and bad burns upon their sun-cracked flash yet hardly putting them down for the count.
ASHUR: "Use that head of yours, priest, lest you be throwing stones in thy glass house." The bandit's eyes shifted to their east, two more of the Kassites brandishing spears of bronze crept upon their position. 'Hm. If I'm caught by them, I'll surely be dead-meat.'


HELLIONS PHASE

COMMENCE




FOES




ALLIES


In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay



KASHTILASHU: "Hm. You are kinsman indeed." The thickly black bearded man of large build and sun-cracked skin spoke. "Our shared blood is warrant enough to accept your aid, tell us, what news do you bear?" The provisional lord of Der's voice echoes across the small throne chamber, the still warm body of the Ensi Yasub-Yahad lies dead abaft, unceremoniously thrown into a corner until they can be dealt with. About the city are the likes of Kassities undoubtedly, some are garbed in clearly Akkadian clothes, while others must have come straight from Zagros for the movement here in Der. Yet all of them are on edge.
The brute takes a deeper breath and holds it briefly. He still holds no truths regarding his own chiefdom's involvement, but that answer would have to wait. He exhales, shaking his head unapprovingly. His lack of words might lead the Angal to assume the brute is apologetic about his lack of intel, and he certainly doesn't wish to rectify that assumption. Yet.

He extends an arm towards the chief, offering his "assistance" in future endeavors.
Kashtilashu nods his squared head with a thoughtfulness towards his kinsman. Before his voice returns to the hall, another replaces it. "Great and wise Angal. . ." Appearing in the midst of the throne chamber's dim firelight, an enshrouded woman kneels, her face veiled with little more than the flesh of her wrists showing. "Ye, of unequaled courage, unrivaled spleandour. . ."
Stroking his thick beard, clearly appeased by her words, Kashtilashu says simply, "Mnn. Yes? Speak, crafty Soraya."
Had the woman's countenance not, her name certainly strikes Lyun. She is no Kassite, nor Akkadian. . . "Our scouts have spotted three camps beyond the sourthern hills, but they are no army. Greedy coinblades the lot of them." She speaks softly.
KASHTILASHU: "So, Šar Kiššati does not yet fear us? Bwahah, let their hubris be their downfall. Mercenaries will break upon these arms you have provided us!" Producing an axe of polished gray metal, the Angal tosses it toward Lyun. "You, Kinsman, you are fierce of eye and strong of body. Allow no man pass the inner gate. Now go! For the future of our people!"

LYUN acquires an IRON BATTLE-AXE!
As the mountainous man takes his leave of the near-kinsfolk, the veiled woman again whispers honeyed words into the Angal's ear, "Wiser than the trees and sharper than any blade though you may be, great Angal, you may not be privy to the ways of the sellsword." She speaks, worming her way closer and closer with each word, "They do not know of honor in death, nor loyalty to anything but the Aurum."
KASHTILASHU: "Is this so? The Akkadian's put hungry dogs to our gate, if we were simply to feed them. . . Bwahahaa! Raid Der's coffers and make haste, let us turn the dogs upon one another, let them tear out each other's throats!"


The fighting was fierce across the doorstep of Der where it sunk into the foothills of the Zagros. But, as like they are, mercenaries are not the kind to give their lives up for any cause, no matter what idealistic future it could bring. With great guile, Hartuum's Hundreds, the Dark Suns, and Shulaar's Scorpions manage to draw out the inexperienced Kassites from their lightly fortified walls, taking the battle to the plains and farmlands. The barbarians, it seemed, bore little wit to defend the city unlike their mountain homes. Within six hours from morning's light, the main defending force had abandoned the outer walls. What's left of the Kassites cling to the inner city walls of the old district. Finding the right moment to strike as the combined armies melee out within and before the walls of the city, the Hellions of Gyr split into several groups to insert themselves -- The Men of Titub beat-back the rear-force advancing on their left-flank while Utu's Chosen do the very same on the right, allowing the band to slip in before the southern gates unassailed. Each band quickly identifies their completed objects and promptly leaves the rest up to the Hellions, having no true stock in the outcome as long as the Aurums flowed their way. With the captain's group circling about to be sure of your safety, Ashur, Zarif, Iddin, Siris, Etor, and Makeen find themselves on the inner road.

ASHÜR: "The time is now. . . It's best we spearhead rather than wait for the band to consolidate." The desperado's shifty eyes dart from one side of the horizon to the other, taking in the last of the tribal defenders who resisted the main shock force. "The iron is hot, let's move." He hisses, curved blade drawn forth. "Though I can't help but feel our formation is sorely missing something. . ."

HELLIONS PHASE

COMMENCE




OBJECTIVES

-- ROUT THE ENEMY --


FOES



In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
The captain nods along to Lyun's words thoughtfully, remaining cross-legged upon the dusty earth. He mulls on the thought, appreciating a rare moment of insight into the warrior's soul. After a solemn silence, Doan's dry lips part, "Perhaps there's more to--" Before he could truly finish his thought the foreign merchant's voice chimes in, his reasonable concerns are well-heard amongst the Hellions. Each of then showing their obvious support. The captain raises a hand to settle the light murmur against the gentle crackles of flame. "The lack of sleep must be getting to me, or perhaps my heart is not as stony as the boys say. . ." He raps a knuckle at the skullcap upon the fallen Hellion's spear.

DOAN-NASIR: "Let me clarify." He begins, taking the tablet back into his hands and squinting in the relatively dim light. "'Know that the bands calling themselves Hartuum's Hundreds, The Dark Suns, and Shulaar's Scorpions will handle the main assault.'" Doan paraphrases to an extent, filtering out the beautification of their would-be employer's script. "'The Men of Titub and Utu's Chosen' will take a support role where needed. Remaining in reserve until Der's fortifications are broken, The Hellions of Gyr will enter the city and subdue dissident elements. . .'"

Thereafter, Iddin makes his claim. Again, the band is in general agreement, while the captain continues to nod in contemplation.

DOAN-NASIR: "Shrewd as ever Iddin-Ninshubar." Yet, he allows his soft expression to sour some, "Akkad and the Ensis of the empire very much so acknowledge our independence, as do they the other bands named. And that is precisely why they've devised this operation." The captain stands, lifting up the fallen longspear of La'um. "Our fate as sellswords is simple, to die a coward's death in the midst of our greed, used as pieces on our employers' many boards. Yet. . . With the subjugation of Elam, no great battles are left in sight four our Šar Kiššati, and so we are purposeless. We become dangerous elements, starving wolves ready to snap at any scraps now that the pickings are slimmed." He raises the weapon, thrusts it forth to where it halts before Iddin, the priest unfazed. "We are like the spear, wrought into this world by the hand's of ambitious smiths to sate only the dunes' thirst of blood."

DOAN-NASIR: "In the eyes of Akkad we must be cast aside, yet why not make use and wear us down before striking the killing blow? Yes. . . Perhaps the day for our kind will come again, but we cannot wish that upon the common man, we have chosen this fate, must we condemn the Empire for doing the sensible thing? I cannot say. . ."

DOAN-NASIR: "Forgive the ramblings of a tired old fool." He says, placing the spear upon a weapon rack beside his own. "Iddin. Men. I put to you the question, surrounded by stronger bands with a greater grip yet still upon the vices of our lifestyle -- what were to become of us should we decline and so too be labeled dissidents?"

In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
ZARIF & ETOR -- C RANK SUPPORT

Zarif sat upon Salador as the small band slowly made their way back from the ruins, coin purses a fair deal heavier than before. Two sat in the Ox-pulled wagon, the rest spread out around it, brandishing weapons. He inspected the walkers, wondering if they were jealous of him, up on his mount. He pulled up alongside one of them.
"You there! You are the one called Etor, truth? You had fighting well, newcomer" Zarif complimented in his still imperfect Akkadian dropping with his mysterious accent
Etor surveys the land as the ruins are just a blip in the background. He perks up when Salador pulls up beside him. He squints to better understand Zarif as his ears always try to decipher unfamiliar words. It was an habit he was not aware of. The young spearman spoke slow and loud. Loud enough that practically everyone on the caravan heard him. Not because he assumed Zarif was deaf but because he was naive.

"Yes! Truth. I am Etor. I am still learning the ropes. This has been good for me."

He points at Salador. "Thank you for letting me ride. How did you two meet? Was Salador always a friend to you?"
"Learning the..." Zarif muttered to himself, perplexed. Does he think himself a sailor? Like those that sail to the ilse of giants for their tin?
"Ahhh, Salador! Yes, good friend, he is. Of always he has been, since I was but a lad of two and ten. In my homeland, all who would travel the shifting sands has a friend such as this! It is not so, in this land of gold and gods. It is a sadness"
Etor never realizes that the sayings in his common tongue perplex the mounted man. He continues the conversation moving past the perplexed look on Zarif's face.

"2 and 10? The shifting sands sound like a great place. Is it close maybe we can take a mission there for a small homecoming celebration!"
This boy is as dense as a rocks of the northern straights! Zarif got a frustrated look on his face as he eyed the smiling spearman.
"Do you not know your numbers, boy? 2 and 10! Together." He dug around in one of Salador's saddlebags, and produced a little abacus, waving it around for emphasis. "Addition, my boy! Do I need to teach you maths after Siris teaches you to march?" The merchant sighed "And the shifting sands... To the west, past the kingdom of the Pharaohs, there is a desert that seems never to end. Those are the sands of my words. There is little and less there for anyone. Nothing to celebrate, I assure you. I come from a land across that endless sea of sand"
Zarif bore a peculiarly forlorn look on his face as he finished, looking to the west, where the sun began to set
"Oh 12! That won't happen again!" Error says with gusto as if addressing a superior.

*"I haven't been taught much so if you would teach me I'd appreciate it." This time with responds with excitement at the possibility.

He listens as Zarif speaks of his Homeland. He didn't say anything afterwards. He patted Salador softly and looked to the west with Zarif towards the sunset


IDDIN & SIRIS -- C RANK SUPPORT

“Iddin, I wanted to give you a portion of my earnings. If it wasn’t for your aid I might not have been able to buy all my armor, thank you for your assistance but I can now luckily repay my debt.”
Iddin counts the coins carefully. The amount is correct. The priest hides it away in his robes and sighs, looking Siris dead in the eyes.

“Next time you pull a stunt like that, you won’t be able to pay me back. Understand? Now I hope you have a good reason.”
“Well next time ill be sure to have killed the enemies before you notice then” Siris says with a wink
Iddin pauses for a moment. He speaks in measured anger.

“Are you this recklessly stupid by birth, or by a lack of consequences in life?”
With a small chuckle, Siris gives a big smile to Iddin
“Lack of consequences, but if I continue growing stronger then maybe those consequences will never come…. However, I will be more careful not to put the team in danger so recklessly again.”

Thinking back to the healing Iddin gave him earlier, Siris cringes his face a bit.

“Just next time, maybe be a bit more gentle with the healing hahahaha”

Iddin scowls. Clearly, this child wasn’t getting the point.

“There won’t be healing next time. And certainly no more lending. I don’t give money to dead men walking.”
Feeling a little annoyed at his companions continued remarks, Siris decided to strike back. Taking a small step closer to his Iddin, he slightly lowers his voice

“Don’t think that I didn’t notice you on death’s door, if anyone was the closest to dying then it’d be you. I’m a warrior Iddin, I can survive on my own in combat need be; but you? Unless you intend to pick up a sword, I wouldn’t threaten me knowing I’m what’s standing between you and judgement.”

Siris turns around before any more words can be said, although as he walks away he realized that he might get in trouble or even kicked out of the group for what he told Iddin. Pretending as if he hadn’t realized, Siris raises his right hand and waves it as he keeps walking away

“Of course, you protect me and I swear I’ll protect you.”

Hurriedly getting out of Iddin’s sight he lets out a sigh, wondering if he was about to get kicked out of yet another group.

Iddin clenched his fist, takes a few deep breaths, and lets his anger simmer. This idiot endangered the entire band, and lords over with the injuries Iddin got has a result of those very actions? And threatening to kill not only his fellow mercenary, but a superior officer? Iddin mutters as he formulates a report to Captain Doan.

“The idiot couldn’t even hold formation… a complete feral mutt… hardly suitable for human gruel, much less wages… next time he runs off to commit suicide, let him… damn kid…”



ZARIF & SIRIS -- C RANK SUPPORT

Having made camp, the mercenaries were spread out around their campfire, some in tents, others warming their hands against the cold desert night. The foreign quartermaster approached one such, whom was sitting off to the side, about to begin first watch.
"Oh poor, poor Siris. Woah is he, Siris the blind! Siris the..." He hesitated, trying to think of the word, "Unlistening! Poor, poor Siris, who cannot be of listening to his quartermaster. No rations for poor Siris the Unlistening unseeing rudesoldierwhoignoreshisquartermaster" The merchant mocked as he turned on his to walk away, snickering at his own wit
“Hello to you too Zarif. You know if you gave me some food I might be able to keep a better watch instead of focusing on my hunger” he says loudly, trying to get Zarif’s attention before he walks too far away
"Poor rude Siris, poor poor unsorrowful Siris. Too proud to ask forgiveness, for ignoring his friend deep within the blue devil's dungeon. Such a tragic figure is the pride-blinded one" Sings Zarif mockingly
“Let me get this straight, you’re more mad that I ignored you rather than the fact I rushed towards the enemies?” Siris says with a laugh.

“I might’ve misjudged you Zarif, and I’ve still got to thank you for that ride at the beginning of our attack. Allow me to make amends” he says as he stands up. Siris walks up to Zarif and extends his hand.

“I apologize for ignoring you, as well as thank you for the ride. I’d love to ride that strong horse of yours again one day”
"With your life's water, you may do as you will. You swore your sword not to me, friend. But do not ignoring those who name you friend, else you may see soon you have none" The merchant took the soldier's hand and nodded, but soon raised an eyebrow
"Horse? Bah! Salador, Siris names you a Horse!" Howling with laughter, the foreigner looked over at his lifelong animal companion. In my home, we have no such beast as "Horse" Nay, no such eastern creature trods the long sands so tirelessly, with so little water."
”Zarif you talk in an… interesting way!” Siris says, laughing once more

”So his name is Salvador is it? That’s great, a fine companion for a mighty warrior.”

Letting go of Zarif’s hand, Siris hits his closed hand on his chest.

”Do not worry friend, I don’t usually ignore anyone normally. The tense situation had me a little on edge, next time we will have a merry chat while slaying our enemies!”



CHAPTER II: OF LOYALTY & SILVER



More than a week's travel through the sparse greenery of the Zagros mountains, following the snake-like river Karkeh the Hellions ford their way through territory unsavory to the common Akkadian, wanting nothing more than to put the thought of that strange archaeologist behind them. It was neither the harsh sun, nor the small game, nor the roving bears that brought their ire down upon the unsuspecting travelers, but the Kassites. Tribal peoples in and beyond the shield-wall of Zagros, practically unassailable by the Akkadians who deem them little more than barbarous and uncivilized. No doubt the great Šar Kiššati would rather see their kind smote from the mountainsides like that of the Yeeks that share their home.

Luck, the greatest asset to a soldier of fortune, as the lady of luck would have it, their very own Lyun had been bourne and molded in the the dry heat of these hills. Not merely versed in their tongue, but their culture as well, the beast of a man found them safe passage to the foothills, just as he'd done before. Through the rocky landscape tread they, seven men and one beast of the desert, their formation reflected that of the stars they marched beneath. A constellation foretelling the tragedies of their future, the tragedy of any mercenary.
ASHÜR: "There. Just cresting the hill. What haste we've made." Unwearied by the long march through rough terrain, the bandit bears some light affectation in his voice, uncharacteristic of his normal pessimism. No doubt all due to the ancient ashen Vital Powder offered to him by Lyun. He'll be back to his old self before the morrow' no doubt.

Regardless, indeed as the band ascended a hidden path up a stony escarpment, they're greeted by their still, familiar banner. Three wild dogs wreathed in flame, the Hellions of Gyr. The temporary campsite is a quiet one, none are disturbed by their arrival save one, from the small palisade surrounding the camp, a hushed voice calls down.
NINIL: "Etor, Lyun, Makeen. . ." The young whatchman's voice trails off amidst the soft crackle of torchflame. They can make out the girl counting across her fingers and quickly darting her emerald eyes back down toward them. "Well look'at that!" She exclaims. "You're all still alive. The captain can't sleep as usual, guess you lot better pop in and say hello!" She chuckles, waving the gang in as they make their little greetings with Ninil more formally, similarly put at ease to see her in just as good health as always.

Sure enough, communal yurts of goat-hide were set-up around the confines of the camp, lit by the dull smoldering flames of a still-living fire. Enough to house all twenty-two of the Hellions, optimistic as it was, it was a note that they'd make sure of with any camp of theirs. Better to take one down in memoriam than the quiet sadness of having never accounted for the dead in the first place. The seven take their time, casting aside their worn gear and the burdens of their travel. Before too long, some of the band part the folds of their commander's tent.
DOAN-NASIR: "Hale and whole, I presume?" The man's gruff voice reaches his underlings from where he sits upon earth, cross-legged. His eyes are mostly shut in a simple contemplation with a few fingers in his beard. Before him, a longspear of bronzed metal is stuck into the soil, a skullcap thereon. "The Hellions are twenty-one now in flesh, sixty-two in spirit. La'um has passed." The scent of olibanum slowly embered is thick in the air. The band pays their respects to their fallen comrade, yet they do not allow their death to linger on the mind. The ever-bandanna-ed bandit is the first to speak.
ASHÜR: "Doan. About our task. . ." He begins, though is quickly cut off by the captain raising a hand.
DOAN-NASIR: "You'll have to debrief on it later, for now I've a matter I'd like your thoughts on." He produces a clay tablet thereupon which orders are enscribed. "This job comes directly from Akkad. . . And it strikes me more like a commandment than an offering. 'for the sum of 10,000 Aurum, The Hellions of Gyr will subdue the dissident ensi Yasub-Yahad of Der and quell rebellious elements. . .' Dissidents." He mulls over that word, lets it percolate in the band's heads. "The pay is amenable, but still I am conflicted. Let your cooler heads prevail over mine -- Akkad is aware of our position to no surprise, and since we're at the doorstep of Der, they don't simply want us to investigate and capture, they're telling us to sack the city. A difficult job to be sure."
ASHÜR: "Der. . . The city bears a long history of integration with the Kassites, they say Yasub-Yahad is descendant of them as well. Our Šar Kiššati must fear the idea of so-called barbarians encroaching upon his pristine empire." The bandit muses aloud, mostly for the benefit of the younger Hellions more than anyone else.
DOAN-NASIR: "Precisely. Spilling blood like this leaves a poor taste in my mouth, but 'tis a choice between that or let it be dryer than the sands." Doan replies, his half-shut eyes open wide to gaze past the desperado and towards the brute of a man. "Lyun. I would not ask you to come along for this task, should we accept. But I must ask for your perspective -- your kinsfolk have always held firm to their mountain pastures, if our orders are to be believed, what would make them deign to seize Der and incite Šar Kiššati's wrath?"

Finally, Captain Doan poses the question to the rest among them, each of the mercenaries with their own set of scruples, moral codes, and lust for battle. . . "We've no longer than half a day to send correspondence and commence the operation. Should we accept?"
In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
GESTIES: "Damn it. . ! Bastard. BASTARD!" The forlorn Scorpion struggles but yet still cannot move his body. "I'm gonna find ya." He seethes, leg still glued to the first step of the dais, where the blood of his comrades runs thick. His fist waivers with the sickle blade in its grip, "I'm gonna kill ya. . . For what you've done to my band!"


KASTILUS?: "Perhaps you should have aimed your fury at the Hellions and died with your companions then?" The sage as Gesties referred to him, raises an en-robed arm while the other begins to trace a pattern in the stagnant, iron-tinged air. The man's body begins to turn translucent in the darkness.


GESTIES: "SAGE!!!" The merc cries out.


KASTILUS?: "Unlike the Hellions of Gyr, you have nothing to blame but your own weakness. Farewell!" A plume of azure flame the likes that illuminate the subterranean chamber engulfs the scholar, seemingly burning him painlessly to ashes, leaving no other trace of his presence.



After a brief delay of watching the man languish in his utter defeat and deconstruction, the Hellions count their coin and gather themselves for the trek back into civilization. Somewhat uncharacteristic of him, the bandit, Ashür, is the first to address the otherwise broken figure of Gesties.


ASHUR: "Come you fool." He says at first, drawing again the length of his curved bronze blade. "Or perhaps you'd prefer we assent to Kastilus' words and send you to join the others. Hm?" The tip of his sword nearly reaches the man's hairless forehead, but is quickly battered away.


GESTIES: "I could not. . . I would not join you." The merc replies, rising from his knee. "I cannot forgive you Hellions for this. But neither could I turn back to the Scorpions, facing Shulaar, surviving this travesty. . . I am despicable." Gesties voice trails off and he's the first one to leave the Ziggurat. Shortly thereafter, the Hellions do the same.


ASHUR: "My gut tells me that I do not wish to see that scholar's face again. Even if the pay is so good. . ." The man addresses the rest of the band as the falling sun greets their flesh, "Let us make for the rendezvous with Captain Doan at once, this place gives too deep a chill in my bones."




And so the band began their long trek back through the rough Zagros mountains towards the city of Der where their captain and the rest of their men would meet them, their coin-purses a good bit heavier than when they'd arrived. With the falling sun at their backs and the rising moon ahead, the Hellions trudged on through the badlands toward their next horizon and towards the day their blood would dry up in the dunes.


CHAPTER 1-2 COMPLETE!

In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay
'D-Damn it. . .' The voice of the purple enshrouded marauder eeks through alongside a spittle of blood. He grasps tightly the gaping hole in his abdomen from the blue-haired merc's speartip. It is of little avail. As his life drains down into the ancient cobbles, collecting in channels, glistening in the dim torch light, he musters a few more words, "Enki, why have you cursed me. . ?" He raises again the blade in his feeble grasp and takes a single step more towards Etor who blocked off his only retreat. "Just a boy." They croak with an eye sealed shut. He charges, "Can you live with all the death you deal!!"

Etor sidesteps the man's final act, and fells him with one last thrust. Etor gains 34 XP.

Across the tight, musty passages of the Ziggarut, now rife with the stench of Yeek bile and man flesh alike, Makeen cracks open the other coffer of stone. His treasure-seeking fingers digging quickly within the confines to grip around an old bug-eaten pouch. There's still the remenants of a stark white grainy substance within, dryer than the desert dunes. The mere whiff of it sends the thief's head into a brief rush. -- Makeen found VITAL POWDER! (( One time use consumable that permanently increases the VITALITY of the one who uses it by +2 ))





KASTILUS: "You've done exceptionally Hellions." The scholar of weary countenance muses aloud. His words reverberate in the depths of this once great temple. Each of the mercenaries, though haggard from their string of battles with the detestable Yeeks and the Scorpions too, they've managed to see yet another job to its conclusion without the dead to carry upon their shoulders. Or so perhaps they believed. . .

"Love, war, beauty, justice, politics. . . Inanna, goddess of these things bore the gallu to cast down her consort, Dumizid the Shepard, to Erṣetu for the pleadings of her blood-lusting cult." The crimson-black concoction of Yeek and mercenary essence seeps slowly, like that of honey from the comb, down the many carven channels of olde between the Hellions feet, heading toward the central dias from which Kastilus stands. He continues his history lesson while counting out the coinage for which to reward them. "For failing to mourn Inanna's passing they did this, their hatred having summoned her back from Erṣetu, and her heart corrupted by the failings of man, together these things drug Dumuzid down to the bleak. But one thing remained here in this mortal world -- the Crook of the Shepard."

Crimson coalesces deep into the cracked sandstone, blue flame gouts from braziers across the chamber, illuminating the mercenaries and their employer in ominous light. "Sealed by the massacre of grudge-bearing men, so too could it only be unsealed by way of a bloody grudge!"




KASTILUS?: "The Hellions of Gyr and Shulaar's Scorpions. . . It would seem your spite for one another was enough." As the flash of fire dies down, replacing the frail archaeologist's tattered clothes are royal robes trimmed in golden runes reflecting the divine language. In the same moment, the dias for which he stands shifts, dust plumes into the dank air and a little unceremonious crypt for which a long decayed skeleton holds a gnarled etched staff. In one enshrouded hand he grips tightly upon the artefact he saught after, prying it from the grip of the long dead. . . "I can always trust the hearts of humans to never change."


GESTIES: "Wait a minute. You damn bastard! You were that sage!!" Suddenly the balding Scorpion raises a fist, while retrieving the blade he'd dropped to the ground in defeat. "You sent us on a wild goose chase to die?! Traitor! Blackguard! I'll kill yer freakin' ass!!" Gesties ascends but one cracked stone step before he finds his body completely numb. He's unable to muster another movement, even despite the fury that smolders within him.


KASTILUS?: "You could say that. But the truth is, whoever succeeded was irrelevant to me." Producing a coin pouch from his robe, he tosses the money that was promised toward Iddin. "I'll most definitely have work for you in the future." He adds with pursed lips.


Hellions recieve 2800 Aurums!
In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay



AGGA: "Ama-Ama-Sin!" The awful faced brute moans as the first axe enters his chest, he struggles to fight back but in his heft, is unable to do a thing, or make a single difference. As the next axe flies, Agga falls to his knees oozing a fountain of lifeblood out into the cobbles below, in hast the concoction finds its way into the subtle channels chiseled into the stone. "You. . . You Hellion fuckers. . . We'll haunt you. . ." He groans, collapsing dead.

Lyun can just make out another of the Scorpions in the shadows beyond the mess that is his foe's corpse, they bare their fangs, their brows furrow with all the hatred that they could muster.



Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the the pitched battle further on beyond the few sounds that echo back to him, Makeen pries the latch from a stone coffer from days of old. He leans over it with avarice in his eyes. Within, a sword that appears practically hewn from a slab of polished smooth stone. He takes it, feeling a meagre sense of artifice, of thaumaturgy within its antediluvian confines.





FOES










SCORPION PHASE

COMMENCE



GESTIES: "Bastards. . . Bastards!" He cries, yet while taking a step back all the while. As each of his prior comrades falls, their hollow eyes begging for aid, he realizes that through his inaction, he has already betrayed them. With a roar, the bald man charges the nearest Yeek priest, with all his misdirected rage, he hacks the ensi's head clean off. "That sage sold us to our deaths. . ." He mouths, turning about to protect himself.


GESTIES attacks YEEK ENSI #2 with his BRONZE SICKLE SWORD, killing it!


YEEK WARRIOR #11 attacks GESTIES with its GNARLED SPEAR dealing 8 damage!


GESTIES counterattacks, dealing 8 damage and killing the yeek!


GESTIES barely resists YEEK ENSI #3's WORD OF STONE!



KASTILUS: "All for good reason. . ." He bemuses to no one.

The swordsman staring down Lyun quickly exchanges himself in the dark with another of their band, yet more arrows trained on the brute. Another is let loose, unable to deflect it, yet more ire and blood is spilt between the two mercenary companies, another retaliatorily flung hand axe marks the end of their enemy's life. All while footfalls echo through the small tunnel. Out of the shade, the last of Shulaar's Band here in the ziggurat skids to a halt before Etor shocked by his appearance to ambush the ambushers.


SCORPION BOWMAN #2 attacks LYUN with their BRONZE SHORT BOW for 9 damage!


LYUN counterattacks with his BRONZE HAND AXE, dealing 16 damage and killing them! He receives 33 xp!



HELLIONS PHASE

COMMENCE



In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay

AMA-SIN: "G-Gaaah. . ." A guttural sound escapes his lips as red quickly swells about his cloak. 'How could things change so quickly. . ?!' Zarif's arrow had struck true, embedding itself into the Scorpion's back, narrowly missing his heart. Simply put, it seemed that the Hellions, even as harried as they were, still stood a league above. Leaving his knife behind in Lyun's wound, the bloodied merc begins to squeeze what little motes of strength he had left to flee down the entryway. His footfalls quickly vanish into the dsrkness abound, beyond the purview of the focused mercenary band.

"You think to escape? I'm afraid that's not part of the bargain dear friend. . ."


AMA-SIN: "That voice. . . T-The sage? Where are you?!" He clutches the gash at his chest, only to slam into a wall, xrumbling to the ground.

"Die here with dignity, you can do that for me, can't you?"


AMA-SIN "S-Sbulaar. . ." He wheezes, a sudden shock tearing through his body as those fingers dig into the cracked sandstone. As the man dies, his blood seeps, filling little channels on either side of the hall, 'neath murals of ancient warriors marching to their judgement.

[Hr]


ASHÜR: 'Behind. . .' He mutters, his voice low and harsh, just enough for the hot-blooded warrior to hear him, along with his footfalls. As Siris bore the brunt of the rival sellsword's blade, Ashür caught him unawares, darting in to sever the viscera of the man's throat. In the instant of the figure's fall, the desperdo called out, "Lyun! The ugly one!" His cautious eyes having scanned the field afore quickly and concisely. Thereafter he turned, to the Yeeks beyond, and to Gesties the same as Zarif cursed.

ASHÜR attacks the SCORPION SWORDSMAN #1 with his BRONZE CURVED BLADE, killing him and receiving 34xp!


[Hr]


Gesties was many things -- A drunk, a braggart, a womanizer, and a crappy mercenary, yet he was no fool. As Ama-Sin fled, dying in the dark, while another two of his comrades had fallen, he couldn't help but feel his hands shake with that blade in their grasp. Picking himself up after being battered by Siris, he rose to Zarif's words, "B-Betrayer!? I had no idea! I was certain they'd all been killed!" It was all he could muster in that moment. Only then did his last words seep into his bones, now indeed they were to fall. But perhaps not all of them. . . Or so he'd hope.

In The Dweomer of Akkad - [ A Fire Emblem-like RPG! ] → 2 yrs ago Forum: Tabletop Roleplay


For the young men among the Hellions, Etor and Makeen, little chambers open up to their gloom adjusted eyes. To the thief, a trove of olde coffers, precisely what he was hoping to see -- certainly happier to be knee deep in the treasure hunt while his seniors wade into battle. While on the other side of the complex 'neathe the sands, the spearman finds naught save a pile of rubble ever so precariously stacked in the wall ahead. . .



"Hellions! Ahead our aim is in sight." Kastilus' voice is held high, echoing well through the squalid halls. With a spring in his step, the scholar bounds up just behind Siris, similarly placing himself under the gaze of the yeeks beyond the shadow, nevertheless, he continues to speak. "The final resting place of Dumuzid. . . Ahh, I can make the tomb out just ahead. Onward--!" As he cries out, the sound of crumbling sandstone draws his eye, he sucks upon his teeth.

With a mighty heave from that mighty man, the broken up wall comes to an end, revealing the warrior's suspicions. As the others trudge ahead to meet with last vestiges of Yeek-kind in the Zigguarrat, the roar of hidden foes splits their attention.



AMA-SIN: "Damn. . ! We won't lose the element of surprise, cut those Hellions down once and for all!" Shrouded both in the royal purples of the rival merc band and the gloam of the ancient temple, a fierce-featured lithe figure gives the call to advance.



FOES










SCORPION PHASE

COMMENCE






AMA-SIN: "So. . . That Sage was right after all, to think we could take our revenge today. . !"

The rival mercs begin to funnel out from the hole moments after Lyun had revealed their hiding spot. Without delay a bladesman charges past the broad shouldered brute and hacks deeply with a fell motion into Iddin's left shoulder. A spray of crimson marks the renewed flames between the two bands.

SCORPION SWORDSMAN #1 attacks IDDIN with their BRONZE SHORT SWORD, dealing 12 DAMAGE! IDDIN recieves 4xp!


An arrow pings out of the crumbling dark, the sharp sting of metal embedes itself deep into Lyun's shoulder as another of the Scorpions stands at the piled rubble, before the figure could knock another arrow they're nearly bisected by a hand axe flung with all might, felling them in one swoop.

SCORPION BOWMAN #1 attacks LYUN with their BRONZE SHORTBOW, dealing 9 DAMAGE! LYUN recieves 3xp!
LYUN counterattacks with his HAND AXE, killing the SCORPION BOWMAN #1! LYUN recieves 30xp!



AMA-SIN: "Don't think we've forgotten what happened at Larsa, you animals!" A hide-wrapped man with a penetrating eye darts past his fallen comrade. Unable to react in time through the pain of his wound, another sharp sting of metal finds its way into the man's abdomen. Yet even so, the stalwart warrior is able to bring another hand-axe quickly to draw Scorpion blood all the same.

AMA-SIN attacks LYUN with their BRONZE LONGKNIFE, dealing 9 DAMAGE! LYUN recieves 3xp!
LYUN counterattacks with his HAND AXE, dealing 14 damage! LYUN recieves 15xp!


Still. . . Those ahead couldn't immediately snap around, those damnable blue-skinned freaks yet remained in the darkness of the expansive chamber beyond. Grumbled words of their god, Zuug-Agblish fill the hall as zealous fervour enrages the last of the Yeeks. One of the two patter down from the dias toward the scholar, yet a mere glare stays its weapon, sending it toward the man beside -- A gnarled spear finds its mark 'tween the gaps of Siris' armour, while Zarif deftly parries the next. With a will, they strike back.

YEEK WARRIOR #11 attacks ZARIF with its GNARLED SPEAR, missing!
ZARIF counterattacks with his BRONZE SHORT SPEAR, dealing 9 damage! Zarif recieves 7xp!


YEEK WARRIOR #12 attacks SIRIS with its GNARLED SPEAR, dealing 4 damage!
SIRIS counterattacks with his BRONZE SHORT SWORD, Killing it! SIRIS recieves 18xp!


Another of the foul priests steps down from the central platform, raising up a fetish of their petrified god, another incantation of guttural speak fills the room. Here and there, Siris can feel patches of his skin begin to calcify, yet quickly he manages to shake it away.

YEEK ENSI #3 casts WORD OF STONE upon SIRIS, but he manages to resist!


Were that not enough, the hastily cobbled together wall to the east of the main corridor began to rumble. Iddin could only just snap his head to see new shapes in the darkness.


AGGA: "Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey! Gesties we thought ya were Yeek food! Grahahaha!" The stout figure of squat and hideous countenance bore an axe about the size of an average man upon just one of his shoulders, evoking the same image as the Red Yeek slain just before. "The hell yah doin' with 'em? Com'on lets kill these dogs!"


GESTIES: "Y-You guys! Damn, I thought all that blood was yours! Figures that Shulaar's Scorpions wouldn't die to some mangy rats." The bald man hefted up the sickle sword he bore, twisting his head back to the others. "Y-Yeah. . . We'll kill 'em." He stammers, whether his trepidation was for the skill he'd witnessed or something else, none could say.


HELLIONS PHASE

COMMENCE


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