I'm guessing that Crusader's analysis of the organs would be left to a separate post?
Yes. I absolutely did not forget. NEVER QUESTION THE DEMON KING'S METHODS.
Zeroth
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Phew, novel outline done. Now to tally how many characters I'll need, based on outline roles. Protag, Antag, yep, lackeys, support cast...Okay so in total I need to fill out--EIGHTY CHARACTER SHEETS?!
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Phew, novel outline done. Now to tally how many characters I'll need, based on outline roles. Protag, Antag, yep, lackeys, support cast...Okay so in total I need to fill out--EIGHTY CHARACTER SHEETS?!
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@Kuro: Congrats, you've received the "Fully Developed Frontal Lobe" DLC!
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Happiness is the acceptance of problems, not their solutions. *eats the fortune cookie*
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If an argument/spirited debate/conversation takes up more than a handful of back-and-forth statuses maybe that means it should be in PMs instead.
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Oh also, on art: If you feel you don't measure up to "the old masters," look up the camera lucida, Claude glass, etc. Dudes 100% considered tracing to still be real art. Just don't "steal" from IPs.
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On CST time, United States. Typically busy most of the week and do most posting/replying on weekends.
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Yes. I absolutely did not forget. NEVER QUESTION THE DEMON KING'S METHODS.
That said, @Zeroth was the tree containing the Tatzelwurm one of those similar to an oak tree, if yes about how big are the leaves? Sorry if this is a dumb question! ^-^;
My notes have the description "A short, leafy tree that usually doesn't grow higher than six or seven feet, but its trunk will put out many smaller branches that may reach up to nine or ten feet. The larger branches, usually near the bottom or middle of the tree, will produce round green nuts with thick shells." So I'll say yes, it's deciduous and has broad leaves somewhat like an oak or maple tree!
No worries! *puts on glasses and professor's cap, which is tilted to one side due to my demon king horns* The only dumb question, is the one that is never asked! *dramatically Gainax poses on top of the desk, but the "explosion" is drawn in chalk on the blackboard behind me*
One of the Elwets had fired off a fireball, and presumably, since it didn't strike one of the kiddos, it must have struck the surrounding vegetation. Did that leave nothing they could've used for ignition?
Mostly asking cause I had Esfir vaguely point that out in a previous post.
The only fireball launched by one of the Elwets was blocked by Akeno in this post.
A post is up! And a RIBARU (TN Note: ribaru means rival) has appeared!?
As Gren went to chop the vine, the moment he brought the stone hatchet down the thing twitched! His blow falling off center as it moved, the hatchet didn’t cleave the thing in half but sank deep into the wood beneath it while tearing through scale and flesh. There was sharp hiss as the axe left behind a shallow wound, and with a noise like angry leather a Tatzelwurm whipped its head out from behind the tree! Digging its claws into the bark it flew, quick as a squirrel, up the trunk—but this tree wasn’t all that tall to begin with, and it was still within reach of the Orc Runts. From a perch above their heads it bristled with fangs and rage-filled eyes, its wounded tail curling up behind it in an attempt to make it look larger.
A moment later, it spat green, sizzling bile right at Gren’s face!
Vola had prepared for this moment, by scratching a “rune” into her weapon! But as she raised it, a dull throb in her head made her wince.
[Rune Scribe] has failed. Error: No [Magic] Skills Available for inscription yet.
Lazash and Grunthor would find no shortage of kindling materials on the forest floor. Though often hidden by scrubby brush, dead leaves from the recent winter seasons and branches brought down by winds and storms over the years covered the ground in a thick layer of detritus. Some particularly dry specimens could be reduced to dusty splinters just by breaking it up with one’s hands, or the leaves could be easily shredded. Both would produce soft starter materials.
However, just fuel and kindling did not a fire make. They needed some way to light their tinder. The sharp rocks they carried weren’t hard enough to produce sparks by striking them—though if they attempted it, they might be able to hone the edges of their impromptu weapons a bit more. Did either of them know how to do the ol’ “rub two sticks together” trick, or some other survival method? A piece of glass to use as a lens? Or…
The Elwets had been able to spit fire somehow, hadn’t they? Did magical skills have anything to do with biology? Should they risk eating one of their captures to attempt to learn such a Skill for themselves? Or further mangling their kills by trying to dissect it for examination?
Meanwhile, Esfir and Akeno pressed through the brush in pursuit of the one bird that had fled the fight. Even though the Elwets had often been described by other Orcs as “aggressive,” it seemed that like any wild creature it would put its own survival over any kind of pride in the face of a clearly insurmountable threat—four Orc Runts with weapons would be more than a match, as they had just proven for themselves.
They heard squawking and rustling up ahead not long after leaving the battleground, however, and as they emerged they saw another Runt from their tribe—the one called Rik, if they happened to have heard the name—facing off with the very same Elwet they were after! The bird had ruffled up its feathers and was spewing smoke from its nostrils. Rik had weapons in hand. Would he prove an ally? A competitor? No doubt Rik was thinking the very same thing about them—
“[Miasma Bolt!]”
But before this three way stand-off could go any further, a fourth intervened. From off to one side, a projectile made from black, hissing smoke so dark it seemed to eat its way through the air flew like a javelin! The solid vapor struck the Elwet in its meaty chest, spearing it all the way through! But in the same moment the three Runts turned to look for the magic’s source, or froze to process what they’d just seen, clawed feet pounded the dirt and a dark blur charged between them to seize the fallen bird.
It was another Runt. A male. But his skin was a darker, duller shade of green with what seemed like a mottled pattern to it, and his eyes were a fiery, ember orange. Black, almost blue hair with a greased sheen fell around his unusually mature face.
He grinned at them. Swinging the Elwet by its neck over his shoulder like a large sack of potatoes, he let out a cackle.
“Smell ya later, losers!” And he was off like a shot, quickly disappearing into the shadows of the trees, in the direction of the camp.
While Agar and Duram took in everything they’d observed—the life signs Agar had detected with his [Field Scan], the different sounds coming from the environment all around them, and, perhaps most notably, the double earthquake that had occurred in a ten foot circle in the exact same place—they would see Ushnekh hurrying away as if he had nothing to do with any of it.
As Ushnekh scurried, he would of course recognize the other two Runts from the Brood Pit. But as he cleared the forest and headed for the camp in the distance, mangled Tatzelwurm clutched in hand, he would also see another Runt emerge from the brush perhaps a hundred yards or so away from him. It was another male. But his skin was a darker, duller shade of green with what seemed like a mottled pattern to it, and his eyes were a fiery, ember orange. Black, almost blue hair with a greased sheen fell around his unusually mature face. This other Runt had a gleeful grin on his face, showing off a mouthful of sharp teeth, as he carried a large dead bird over his shoulder—one of those creatures called an Elwet, perhaps?
If Ushnekh continued back to camp, he and the other Runt would likely make it back around the same time. Would they be the first ones to report their kills? Also, while he got his breath back after a few moments in a seemingly normal fashion, he still felt "empty," somehow. It was like feeling hungry...in his soul? But he got the feeling that, with proper rest, he might regain what he had spent thus far.
The info below is relevant to anyone interested in Taming creatures.
I saw I had been pinged in this and for a split second thought this applied to Goh training the children.
@Guy0fV4lorOh it's nothing like it used to be, believe me. But on Tuesdays and Thursdays I teach my Karate class and on Mondays I meet with a group of IRL friends, all of this after the typical 9-5 day, so it's just a case of me burning a candle from both ends and spearing an incense stick through the middle too.
G O H
Interacting with: The Three Students
Western Forest Clearing || Training || Contentment
The old man threaded the fishing line through his calloused, wrinkly fingers as he brought the slender pole up with his opposite hand. With movements smoothed by long experience, he cast the line out into the air, then steadied both hands at the rod’s base. The corner of his mouth quirked in what might have been a smile as he waited for the first bite.
A wooden blade swept towards the lure---a plain tube of hollow wood, with the string fastened to a plug at its other end. Goh flicked his wrist and the target nimbly hopped over the horizontal slash. With the slightest movement of his hand, the line swung like a pendulum. His student gave a determined shout and chased after it, swinging vertically this time. Goh wiggled the pole to send a loop-de-loop through the thin string and the tube danced to one side of the attack.
“Do not give chase, Gareth.” he said in a gravelly voice. “Predict where your target will move, and cut it off!”
“Yes, Master Goh!” said the boy with the habitual tone of respect that’d been drilled into him. But his teacher knew he wasn’t listening, because he kept following after the swinging target as it drifted in a new direction. Old Man Goh chuckled and spared a glance to his other students.
“Miss Alyshia, slow down! It is more important that each sequence is correct, than it is for the whole form to be swift!” He continued to move the target with his fishing pole as he looked between the two of them. Though one was all wild energy and effort, and the other more controlled, neither of the two children escaped his notice.
“Yes, Master Goh!” The willowy little girl stopped and went back to her beginning stance. From a high guard, she swept her wooden sword down with focus much sharper than the practice weapon. In the same movement she turned her hips and brought it up, reinforcing the back of the blade with her hand for a simulated block. Then she circled it around her head to come down with a repetition of the first strike, but this one was followed by advancing one step forward and sweeping the tip for an upward, diagonal cut. Goh hummed and nodded as she continued the rest of the form, intentionally performing each movement at less than half her normal speed but perfecting the individual techniques step by step.
“Master Gooooh, am I done yet!?” A fourth voice whined. As the teacher once again pulled Gareth’s target away from him at the very last moment (causing the wooden tube to actually land on the boy’s head as if taunting him, before sweeping it somewhere else), Goh’s smile turned to a frown. He looked towards his third student. On three of the thickest trees at the edge of the clearing, white chalk lines had been drawn–one vertical, one horizontal, and two crossing like an X diagonally. These eight spokes had been drawn straight and smooth by Goh’s practiced hand, and the chubby Eric stood in front of one tree. He was propped on his sword and sweating.
“Have you traced each line ten times?”
“W-well…” Goh narrowed his eyes, and the boy gulped down his lie. “Um, almost…But my arms hurt, and—”
“Then you are not finished!” He turned back to Gareth’s training, but what Eric didn’t know was that his master could still see him from the corner of his eye. To his credit, the bigger boy took a deep breath and raised his sword again. He clearly wasn’t happy about it, but he had already learned that Goh’s punishments were worse than his training. Good. Eric began striking through the air, attempting to align the tip and edge of his blade with the direction of the chalk lines in front of him each time. Goh’s smile returned. Progress was progress, after all.
Goh moved his pole in a manner identical to a movement he’d made before. He saw Gareth’s stance change. Then a crack of wood against wood rang out, and the boy cheered.
“I did it!” He turned towards his master, where the old man sat on a long-dead and dried stump. “Master Goh, did you see?”
“I did. Do you?” he asked, as he moved his arm. His student tracked the motion with those bright eyes, and squinted in confusion---just before the hollow tube clinked against the back of his head.
“Gah!”
“Do not stop moving until your opponent does, boy!” Now Goh swapped the pole from two hands into his left alone, and began moving it more swiftly, whipping the line and the target around Gareth in haphazard circles. “Keep going!”
The three children continued their training, and the old man continued barking orders. Gareth dutifully did everything he was asked, regardless of whether he had the skill to accomplish the task or not. Alyshia's grace and finesse grew keener with every repetition of the form---her talent was such that, in the time it had taken Gareth and Eric to learn a single sequence, she had learned three. She was a joy to watch, though every so often Goh was reminded that he hoped to never see her actually use these techniques. Eric did as he was told, or else he was given something worse to do. This wasn’t a matter of favoritism---Garetha and Alyshia had to do the exact same exercises, and were given the exact same punishments whenever they misbehaved. What Eric was only just starting to figure out, was that they misbehaved less often. And once he understood the link between his own actions and the consequences he endured, then Goh could begin teaching him why that distinction was important.
But for now, perhaps, they had learned enough.
"Alright, everyone line up!" He called, reeling in Gareth's target. The boy had managed to catch it a few more times, but it was more a matter of continuing to charge after it until he caught up rather than predicting the lure's path. Goh decided to get a little more "serious" with him next time. Alyshia had just completed her last form, and Eric moved as fast as his chubby legs could carry him despite having complained a moment ago about being "so sore he couldn't move." Goh looked at the three children sternly...and then nodded.
"Very well. We'll end training early today, since it's time for the Market." Three little voices raised in cheers. "But!" They all snapped back to attention. "I expect you all to be on good behavior! Remember that this training isn't just for your sword---it is also for your spirits!"
"Yes, Master Goh!" they all recited in unison. He nodded and pretended to be reluctant.
"Very well! Bow! Dismissed!"
They left the woods as a group, Eric and Gareth running ahead in a stubborn race while Alyshia skipped and frolicked just a few strides ahead of the old man bringing up the rear. As they walked down a gentle slope towards the village, Old Man Goh stopped for a while just to breathe it all in. He shook his head, the movement causing his white beard to whip back and forth in front of his chest.
"I wish times like these didn't fade so quickly..." he muttered, before continuing after the children.
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