Yam I Am

alpine republic

<Snipped quote by Yam I Am>


It begins

@Jeddaven

Your mom's an Obama prism

alpine republic

We must deploy the mechs

@Dinh AaronMk

alpine republic

<Snipped quote by Keyguyperson>

death

@Jeddaven

You madame are a horrid insult upon God's good Earth and your mother.

His Son Will Ride a Camel

I had a fit of autism and made a topographic map of Al Mitras too.

Hider

@gorgenmast

You call it "Autism". I call it "Art".

alpine republic

@yam i am
Союз нерушимый республик свободных
Сплотила навеки Великая Русь.
Да здравствует созданный волей народов
Единый, могучий Советский Союз!
Славься, Отечество наше свободное,
Дружбы, народов надежный оплот!
Знамя советское, знамя народное
Пусть от победы, к победе ведет!
Сквозь грозы сияло нам солнце свободы,
И Ленин великий нам путь озарил.
Нас вырастил Сталин - на верность народу
На труд и на подвиги нас вдохновил.
Славься, Отечество чаше свободное,
Счастья народов надежный оплот!
Знамя советское, знамя народное
Пусть от победы к победе ведет!
Skvoz grozy siialo nam solntse svobody,
I Lenin velikij nam put ozaril.
Nas vyrastil Stalin - na vernost narodu
Na trud i na podvigi nas vdokhnovil.
Slavsia, Otechestvo chashe svobodnoe,
Schastia narodov nadezhnyj oplot!
Znamia sovetskoe, znamia narodnoe
Pust ot pobedy k pobede vedet!
Мы армию нашу растили в сраженьях,
Захватчиков подлых с дороги сметем!
Мы в битвах решаем судьбу поколений,
Мы к славе Отчизну свою поведем!
Славься, Отечество наше свободное,
Славы народов надежный оплот!
Знамя советское, знамя народное
Пусть от победы к победе ведет!

@USSR

[youtube]youtube.com/shorts/skz9odeewpc?featur…

Heartbreaker - The Best of the Isekai Hunters

15 Arevi-Yun, 1182 PCE

Ahriman's Estate, Sheol

---

When he was but an emberling, Ahriman couldn't picture this: Satin and silk sheets, brimstone countertops, ebonspires to pierce even into the brightest of days, ever-replenishing cellars, full entourages of loyal servants. It was odd to picture that the sprawling mega-complex Ahriman had called his estate was considered awfully modest by other lords of Sheol. Even with so infinitesimal of spaces to work with, Ahriman had prided himself on his heuristic approaches. It may have been crude, yes, but sometimes the simplest solutions were really the best. He may have been a lord of his soul and countless others, but Ahriman would be hard-pressed to confess that he, perhaps, preferred it more when he was but a humble landsman.

"His Highness, Lord Macharian has said-"

"That fool could nary navigate his own estate without the aid of his centurion of lapdogs."

"-your plans for Hyusis are - and I quote - 'foolish, overcocky blubmlings only a dilettante the likes of Ahriman could devise'."

The constant arguments were a nice touch. Especially with the likes of the Seven other lords of Sheol. Ahriman had prided himself on his status as their latest addition: His same pride was so equally wounded by his proclamation as to the position likewise of, "weakest".

"And I would trust that you have returned with my proposition, then?"

His mistress - one of countless - curled her lip in acknowledgement. By demonic measure, she was but a young thing, and by that same mortal metric, she was far older than any being had any right to be. They were confidants, Ahriman placed no doubt, but discrepancy was the crux of etiquette. For a demon, Ahriman possessed a sense of sentimentality that would have been considered odd by any manner of his station. Collection of the past always prepared for the present, he would tell.

She snapped her middle fingers, and with the puff of ebony smoke appeared a papyrus scroll - signed and sealed with the purplish-crimson of Lord Ahriman's seal. The Lord, in turn, gazed upon the state of his appraisal in scorn, and turned aside in scathing dismay.

"How fitting." he commented, "He'd barely read the thing before sealing it right back up. Typical." That would make the seventh presupposed rejection of his idea to date. Out of eight, of course - but Ahriman held little esteem for the most esteemed of the Demon Lords to view his proposal with any more enthusiasm than the others.

His servant and companion dithered in place slightly, modding over the scroll as she glared past it and unto the Lord.

"If I may, Lord-"

"You need not ask." he interrupted, curling his hand over in hurried display. Her query was, clearly, nothing short of unnecessary, given his harsh tone: And he believed by now that she should have well-learned he far preferred poignancy to etiquette.

"Out with it."

She paused. His mistress looked straightly back at him, a glint in her eye to remind Ahriman that she was capable to lie.

"Well?" He probed.

"Oh, forgive me." she apologized quickly, "It's nothing. Please - forget that I said anything."

Ahriman narrowed his eyes back at her. He knew something was beneath her - something within her. And, perhaps in reciprocation to such kindnesses he had bequeathed unto even the lowliest of his servants, she had come to the good senses not to return his kindred spirit with so uncouth an inquiry. Yet one did not rise to such prominence without good sense, and Ahriman had long acquired a knack for sensing out others. What he might perceive here was not perjury - at least, not immediately - but he knew she had something she had left unsaid. It may not have been a lie, he knew, but the thought plagued and picked at the back of his mind all the while.

"Is the banquet set?" He asked - if only to break his unsettled mind.

"Yes," she confirmed, "You called for them at eleven-"

"Fifteen." Ahriman completed. His mistress, keeping to her collective, simply nodded. She took but a moment to readjust herself to a more dispassionate disposition, returning to a more oft-a'gaze.

"Have you need more of me?"

"That will be all. You are dismissed." Ahriman ordered. He would have preferred to call his mistress by name. But, that would have been rather patronizing, wouldn't it? He'd need to attend to his group of his "favourites", he'd call each of them. Ahriman was sure it'd cause some manner of discontent in his circles...but all the better to encourage a bit more competition, wasn't it? In the meantime, he'd wait in his grand reception hall, the dining table set with all manner of exquisite feast and decor, and cling along his fingers to the rim-tim of a wine glass tap. He'd go over the rest of his findings with the group as they all made their way over - no use in reiterating what he himself had long known, of course. And from the distance did his mistress convene with the others in their gaggles, confabulating to each other in hushed whispers on things which no doubt had just recently transpired, and from the eminent hushes of giggles and laughter, Ahriman was no fool to discern that he was their subject of honor.

He'd forgotten - in all his splendor - that he'd told his band of "Heartbreakers" at eleven-fifty and not eleven-fifteen, but so he waited in gleeful misunderstanding to glass after glass of his finest reserve. Nothing but the best, for the best, after all, and so it was that Ahriman most merrily consumed his time away.

Heartbreaker - The Best of the Isekai Hunters

Daero'moroke

Name: "Daero'moroke", each syllable pronounced independently. Technically, this is to his true name what a mortal's nickname is to their full name plus a great many titles and honorifics, but the entire thing becomes a mouthful for most mortals to pronounce beyond that point - intentional grafting of that conceptual aspect of his soul has made it so, to wit. Besides, he's not keen to just give out the full thing on the regular, so he has a few epithets beside that to work with: many common languages give him the titles Lord of Bulls or Master of Sacrifice; he is The Watching Death in the Orcish tongue; The Evil Eye in High Elven; The Burning Eye in Low Elven; and in High Alytian, to those few priests and paladins who know and understand his methods, he is simply The Observer.

Age: Roughly 4350. It's been longer than that, but at some point you just start counting in decades for sake of ease.

Race: Demon

The Many Forms of the Demoniac

Guise of Nobility

Guise of Ecclesiarchy

"Angel" Form

"Fairy" Familiars

The Demon Unleashed

Background: The full life story of a demon as old as Baero'moroke is much too lengthy to explain to one with such important business as Lord Ahriman. Suffice to say, however, describing his character will help to explain most of it.

You see, many of those working to break the so-called Heroes of the Goddess have personal reasons for it. They have been personally wronged by the Church of Clionism and its minions, or they've found direct issue with the Heroes and their unfair advantages in the world compared to the native inhabitants, or they are simply brainwashed into their role as opposition. Some might even consider this among demons: even the mighty are not immune to emotion, and some fall foul of fear or fury so fervently.

Daero'moroke is different. He is, simply put as possible, a narcissistic dick with a bad case of anti-social personality disorder, and a distinctly deadened sense of empathy as a result. He can appreciate individual beings, but moreso based on what they give him than what he feels for them. A useless tool is of no value to him - and to be frank, most mortals are only useful to him as toys to manipulate into doing things against their better interests. He gets joy out of this, you see, finding it amusing to twist mortal wants until they ruin everything they have for themselves, and especially finds screwing with those silly little Heroes a fascinating exercise in figuring out what makes them tick, then pulling at the gears until they break apart - even if those gears prove infuriatingly resilient more often than not.

Rarely directly, though. His true form is monstrous, but he has a variety of alternate guises to work with in place of that: human forms, of noble and Clionistic approach amongst others, and a form that one might very well mistake for angelic if one were foolish... as many Heroes are. Much more often, he will send minions or spells out to gather information about the world, then send it back to him to build up his knowledge ever further, and track down people who might be of interest to him.

The main things that have been holding him back to date are but twofold - middling demonic power, and a distinct lack of ambition. He already enjoys what he does, after all; why change that? Well, when the Demon King demands your presence, and asks that you help make a concerted effort to wipe out the Heroes and the Goddess' influence in the world as a whole... there is rarely much one can do to protest. Even if it means working with... admittedly-unusual mortal allies.

[br]

Skills and Abilities: Physical - If Lord Ahriman were interested in raw power, he'd stop at Medai and sic her on the continent. As it is, Daero'moroke is of noteworthy strength, speed, and durability even when not tapping into his full power, and can outmatch even most Heroes at his utmost - but then, it's not "most" Heroes that prove a problem, but the single Hero who gets strong enough to slay the Demon King. At that point, and consequently with a great many demons, he cannot simply beat them senseless.
Magical - Likewise, for raw magical output, Ophidias Seht would do just fine. Daero'moroke is, in fact, quite the magus in and of himself, with quite a range of reasonable offensive and defensive magicks to hand - but, more pertinently, a great many magicks to support his primary capabilities, including ideas along the lines of scrying, charms, hexes, conceptual interference, seals both consensual and non-consensual, and two very pertinent spells: the power to split off tiny slivers of his own soul, ensconsing them either within a subordinate or as their own fairy-like entities to acquire information and relay it directly back to him; and a sort of internal library of memories, exceptionally valuable for organising inputs on the scale of thousands, even tens of thousands of hours of time each day, enough to drive a mortal mind mad. Naturally, he outranks the majority of mortal mages, and in theory could scale up nigh-indefinitely, but the minute losses from splintering one's soul (even if it heals gradually) and relatively discrete use of this power take their toll on his final output.
Mental - No. What sets Daero'moroke apart from the rabble is his intensely manipulative, and moreover exceptionally organised mindset. He is smart, that is clear, but it is bent toward using others to get what he wants, and ensuring he has every single piece on the table just in case he needs some for later. It is rare that there is something of importance happening in the land which he doesn't know about, and even rarer for others to know when he is actively meddling with it. Indeed, he prefers to gather as many pieces of a puzzle as possible before striking at its heart, if he has to be physically involved at all; and in the rare cases where he deigns to brute force an event, he prefers to be precise, delicate, a scalpel rather than a hammer, attacking suddenly and using just enough power to win the fight so as to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Quips: He defies the concept of the Bishonen Line when it comes to transformations. He is also more than aware of many of his "companions'" own flaws and desires.

@BCTheEntity

Sweet, lookin' good to me.

Advance on Distant Proxima (Mecha RPG)

puts on necromancer robes

I cast Raise Dead

Heartbreaker - The Best of the Isekai Hunters

And for everyone who missed it, i'm planning on having the IC start tomorrow. Just a heads-up for the RPG OOC, here.

Heartbreaker - The Best of the Isekai Hunters

One Orc bard up for review :p

Ravil the Marvelous

Ravil the Marvelous

Age:
35

Race:
Orc

Appearance:

Background:
Ravil the Marvelous! Bard Extraordinaire (true), Connoisseur of All Things Music (true enough), Master of a Thousand Dialects (kiiind of stretching it a bit thin), and Stalwart Champion of the Ladies (now this one's totally self-proclaimed)! Wherever tales are to be spoken, one can be assured that Ravil is ready to serve! Why, there are so many tales of great heroes to be told indeed in this realm, and are they not all worthy of praise and glory...?

No? Don't think so? Then you think in the same way as Ravil himself.

To Ravil, most of the tales of heroism by these so called heroes are bogus. Nonsense. Empty flattery to inflate the heroes' ego. Not many in the realm can see it; most seems content to just nod along with the rumors and hearsay about how awesome and powerful and perfect the heroes summoned by the goddess are. These people are like puppets. Ravil however, is completely different. He read the history books and tale books, and he realized that far more often than not, these heroes won by the sheer power of either being lucky or being inexplicably infallible no matter how foolish their actions were at times. It was as if... They won because a higher being made it so. From there it wasn't that difficult to connect the dots, really. Heroes summoned by the goddess plus winning because a higher being made it so. Duh, the higher being's the goddess.

This pissed Ravil off very very much. And not because the heroes kept getting all the ladies, nay (nah, it's totally because of this)! It didn't bother him at all that this all meant that the heroes getting the ladies were also because of that damned goddess! Nay, it is the injustice of the situation that roused Ravil's sense of justice (pffft) to rebel against the goddess and the heroes she summoned! The only thing that pissed Ravil off nearly as much is the stereotype that all Orcs are lumbering mindless berserkers that can only spout "ORC SMASH!" while wildly trying to gib an enemy. Nonsense, Ravil himself is living proof that Orcs are as civilized and potentially dashing creatures as any other races are. Music, poetry, fine dining, and artful fencing; these fits Ravil way more than swinging around a spiked club wildly like a drunken madman.

In any case, so it became that Ravil offered his loyalty and all the marvels at his disposal to Demon Lord Ahriman. The goddess and her heroes really need to be taken down a peg. Or two pegs. Or taken down entirely, really. And who else have the best chance to do that than a Demon Lord?

And Ravil did not join Lord Ahriman's cause by his lonesome. No, he is accompanied by his lifelong companion (in a platonic sense). Alira the Succubus. As stereotype-defying as Ravil himself, Alira is not at all like the image that most people have when they heard the word "succubus". She's a bookworm with absolutely zero interest in hanky-panky. Her greatest pleasure is playing chest, not seducing, bedding, and corrupting a hero or a holy man. Truly a most impressively smart pundit of literature, there is no one Ravil will trust more when it comes to foiling the goddess and her genre-locked heroes. Why, it was also Alira who gave Ravil the idea of working for Lord Ahriman.

And so heroes' blood shall be spilled and goddess' plan shall be ruined! With words, swords, and genre savviness at their disposal, they shall prevail! Ehm, also with the help of the other magnificent and stalwart servants of the great Demon Lord Ahriman, of course.

Skills and Abilities:
- Bard Extraordinaire: As a bard, Ravil truly is one that is extraordinary and remarkable. He is possessed of an exceptional degree of panache and of presence both, able to easily enrapture a crowd of audience with his songs and poets. He speaks a great number of different languages, and musical instruments too are nothing foreign in the slightest for him, as he had mastered virtually all forms of instruments from the most classic to the most exotic. Additionally, like all self-respecting adventuring bards, Ravil possessed the capability to use Bardic Magic. In his case, masterfully so, allowing him to greatly empower his allies and weaken his foes alike using his bardic performances.

- Expert Fencer: If words, charismatic endeavors, and bardic spells failed to win the day, or simply if it is easier to succeed by might, then Ravil is perfectly capable of fighting as well. An excellent fencer, Ravil's fighting style indeed betrayed the typical stereotype of Orcs being berserkers. Ravil fights with grace and elegance, performing quick strikes with pinpoint accuracy while wielding his trusty rapier. His movements in combat are akin to flowing water, smoothly weaving in to strike and out to dodge by going with the flow rather than against it. Mundane as his physical combat style might be, it is foolish to underestimate this sophisticated fighter, although he himself would prefer to be underestimated as it works to his advantage.

- Dirty Fighting: If all else fails, then Ravil can fall back to yet another method of engagement he had specialized in. In combat, honor is for schmuck. Ravil possessed absolutely zero reservation in regards to using dirty tricks to gain himself an unfair advantage in a situation. If throwing a handful of spicy pepper meant for dinner unto the face of his foe will turn defeat to victory, Ravil will do so in a heartbeat.

Equipment:
- Rose Thorn: Ravil's trusty rapier. Very light yet of mighty sharpness and durability, it is made out of mithril ingots. A most fine weapon for a graceful fighter.

- Musical Instruments: Ravil possessed a great number of various musical instruments he had collected throughout his journey as a bard. Most of the time he can be found with his lute, but he is able to switch it out for something else quickly using his Bag of Holding.

- Bag of Holding: The aforementioned Bag of Holding, most trusty extradimensional container for the enterprising (rich) adventurer. This holds... just about everything Ravil own really, from toothpicks to potions to musical instruments.

His Most Trusty Companion:
Why, none other than Alira, of course. Most educated of Succubi and lifelong (platonic) companion of Ravil the Marvelous. For the most parts, she disliked the very act of fighting. But if she must, be it to protect herself or Ravil, then she is more than capable in using Dark Magic of the Destruction, Illusion, and Conjuration schools. Rather than as a fighter, Alira is much more valuable a comrade for her great intellect and genre savvy advice instead.

Quips:

Appearance of Ravil's Succubus Companion, Alira

@Medili

By certain orcish standards, he'd be an old man...as if that's a problem.

I dig 'em. And besides, who could resist a mug like that?!