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  1. - Top - End - #61
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    Quellian-dyrae's Avatar

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    August stood...stunned. The reality of the situation finally pierced his stubborn will. Despite it all, the size of the army, the surprising assault by the golem, the destruction of the wall that he had defended for so many years, he had not, for a moment, admitted defeat. They had their mages, they had the Gates of the Bastion, they had Kolum-Flame-Blasted-Salor. He refused to accept that they would not be able to turn this around.

    Now he had to.

    Part of his mind told him he should say something. Swear some kind of oath? Maybe turn to those with him and plead for their aid? Void, he'd be dead already were it not for the priest and the monk who had managed to disable the golem.

    Nothing particularly eloquent came to mind, and actions spoke louder in any case. Without a word, he took the platinum sphere. He was curious what it was, why it mattered, but he didn't ask. If it was need-to-know, he figured, they'd let him know.

    Another shock came when Kolum Salor chose to remain behind. He was so surprise that he let out a sort of strangled "G-what?" It seemed insane, that so mighty a warrior would stay here, while this sphere was entrusted to a mere guardsman.

    But that appeared to be the situation. With nothing more to do for it, he walked over to the Aaran, awaiting instructions.
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    The Aaran's face held some odd mixture of astonishment, deep thought, and melancholy. He shook his head slowly, muttered something, and bent down to the ground and placed the piece of chalk in his hand inside of his bag, where you see multitudes of wizard's equipment. He grabs it, stands back up straight, slowly and with much effort, muttering words you only catch barely, "...ol' boy's onto something there..." The man had a voice like crispy brown leaves, dry of everything but sound. "Now, do gather around the circle.", he says in what might be mistaken for a whisper. Various shuffling sounds indicate that everyone has moved over. It is quiet, for the most part, the squeaking of leather on buckles and the slight clink of armor all there is to be heard.

    "As I said before, anyone standing inside the circle at the time the command words are spoken will be instantaneously transported through the dimensional lock on this castle, to the mountains of Blackstone. The atmosphere change and teleportation may be untoward for some of you, but I suppose it beats nearly certain death."

    With nothing to really do, and casting glances askance at the small man with the artifact, everyone steps forward into the chalk, taking care not to smudge it even at the magician's insistence that it would not matter.

    The words, from some language no one can really know, seem to slime their way through his teeth: "Yulzthees Keeyumla"

    And with a fizz-pop, you are gone.

    ---

    Silence overwhelms you. You open your eyes but cannot see, open your mouth but cannot speak, and indeed feel the air slammed from your lungs as if you were the bellows of a particularly bellicose smith. Choking on nothing at all, eyes bulging slightly, you reflect variously on death and dying, before you feel pressure and the air normalizing, followed by a glow. You are in a very, very, very dark place, the only light coming from the old Aaran, the air seemingly also provided, as he holds some nick-nack over his head that is hissing and appears to be releasing air into the void. There is no up or down, no sides, no surfaces, no gravity. You simply are, sustained only by one man's planning with what appears to be a bottle, endlessly gushing air.

    "Now", he says, voice faintly carried on the thin air, "what I want to know is how they put a Dimensional Lock on the castle without having any spellcasters physically in the damned place. Ah well no matter, we'll break through in just a moment,hang on and don't dematerialize just yet..."

    Even as he speaks these words, he pops out of view. You twist and turn in zero gravity, but he is gone. The air thins away, as it is wont to do, and without the bottle replacing it, you begin to despair once more. Many clap hands over their eyes, and some take large gulps of the remaining air. You feel dizzy...

    ---

    The ground rushes up to meet you and, somewhat over enthusiastically, hits you full-body. There was some amount of unconsciousness, you're not sure if for a while or only a little, but you are alive now. For a while, most just breathe, though some enterprising individuals get up and do some stretching. The 3 scholar-magicians appear least shaken by the trip, chatting lightly while regaining their breath.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

  3. - Top - End - #63
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    Xander regained consciousness slowly, as if waking lazily from a dream, feeling returning to his fingers and the seeing the scene before him resolve from an indistinct haze into sharp clarity. 'Why's everything sideways?' came his first idle thought, his mind not entirely collected after the teleportation. Uttering a stifled groan, he managed to lift his arm up to place a hand on his chest. He could feel little metal scales beneath his fingers, newly-forged and ready for action. 'Armor.' He reached down to his waist, feeling for the hilt of his new weapon. 'Sword. Could've used one of these earlier.' The uncomfortable feeling of many items of assorted hardness and texture pressing into his back could only mean one thing. 'And backpack. I think that's everything.' Xander could feel the strength returning to his limbs and the spinning sensation in his head was subsiding. 'All right, Xander,' he told himself, 'let's see what you've gotten yourself into this time.'

    Uttering a groan, he managed to pull himself up from lying prone into a sitting position. He gave himself a quick pat-down, making sure he hadn't lost any body parts in the escape from Salor. 'Speaking of which... where is Salor? How far did we travel?' Xander looked around, trying to determine which way was which. He then managed to struggle to a standing position, staggering for a few moments as his legs felt as though they would not support him any more. All things considered, however, Xander felt like he was in good enough shape to stretch out and walk around for a bit. However, there was an odd tingling sensation in his forehead, just behind his eyes. He shook his head for a moment, as if that would cause the feeling to disappear, but it persisted. 'Must be an after-effect of the teleportation magic,' he told himself, 'it'll go away.'

    Looking around, he could see a handful of vaguely-familiar faces but he was otherwise surrounded by utter strangers in a land that was not his own on a task he knew nothing about. "What now?" he murmured softly to himself. Suspecting that his question would be answered soon enough, Xander took a few tentative steps towards the person nearest him and started to help get the others on their feet. The faster they were up and ready, the sooner they could get moving towards whatever goal they now had.
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  4. - Top - End - #64
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    August took three long, deep breaths before picking himself up. A quick analysis indicated that he was in one piece, the sphere still clenched tightly in his hand. That, he placed carefully in his belt pouch.

    He cased quickly about, getting a lay of the land, checking to make sure they weren't in immediate danger. Then, he began moving about, helping people to their feet and checking to ensure everyone was alright, offering healing to anyone who was hurt, either by the transport, or the previous battle.

    He focused on the situation at hand. No time to think of anything else. They had a mass of refugees to organize and keep safe. Whatever else, these were still his people and he was still a guard. He had his duty.

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    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

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  5. - Top - End - #65
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    Tharan-Kel

    Among those who stepped inside the teleportation circle was a Jushorun warrior. He had arrived in Salor a few days ago as an escort to a young human merchant who promised him good compensation if he did the job well. The trip took four days, and save for a few run ins with some wild beasts, which the warrior took care of handily, it was on the whole a fairly safe one. As soon as they entered one of Salor's gates, the eager merchant immediately paid the Jushorun and rushed on towards the market, where he said he was to deliver his goods.

    Now when the man said good compensation, he really meant good compensation; the Jushorun had never held that much money in gold all at once in his entire life. He began to wonder what that man was carrying with him to warrant that much pay on a guardian, but he was not the type to put too much thought into matters that did not concern himself. And so he put to use his mental faculties into matters that did concern himself: what to do with all that gold.

    Perhaps rather an uninspired decision, the Jushorun found himself in one of the taverns drowning himself and every patron present in ale and food. Suprisingly for someone of his looks and demeanor, he had never tasted a drop of liquor in his life, and so he indulged himself this time. Not surprisingly he had quite the tolerance, and with nothing else to do and having the money to waste, he drank and ate for two days straight.

    On his third day in Salor, he found himself in a luxurious room he could only hope was an inn, with no recollection of the days past and having a severe case of hangover. While trying desperately to keep the world from spinnning around him, he went over his gear, then his pouch.

    18 gold pieces.

    That wasn't right. All that food and booze couldn't have possibly cost him all that money. Someone must have taken most of it.

    Oh well, gain easy, lose as easily, he thought to himself. At least it appeared he had not lost any of his articles. He went on to check if he had bruises or any broken bones.

    None. Good.

    It seems like he avoided starting a fight this time. That, or heavens forbid he just beat the crap out of everyone so effortlessly. But then he would have woken up in a prison cell somewhere instead of some comfortable bed if that were the case.

    Gingerly he made his way outside the room down to the dining hall, ordered the best they had on the menu, ate, and paid, adding in a handsome tip. 14 gold. Enough to give him a few days to look for a new job. But as fate would have it, it didn't take him a few days to find a new job. Not even a day, in fact. Not that he found one as well; he reckoned 14 gold was enough to take to the afterlife.

    He stood atop the walls of Salor, looking down upon the black mass of moving flesh and steel that was to be his death, and surely the rest of the city. It didn't look like they were there to conquer. More like to destroy and purge. But despite the grim outlook, the Jushorun warrior stood tall, smiling. Truly if a warrior were to die, that was the way to go.

    When the fighting started, it seemed their fears were largely unfounded, with the walls doing what they were supposed to do. The Jushorun was almost disappointed, but he cursed himself when for some reason, a golem broke through and all hell broke loose.

    He immediately leapt into action, hitting the rock creature with flurry of blows, but to no effect. A small dent here or there, but not much damage to really divert its attention, which seemed to be the gate. With combined tenacity and luck, he was able to locate and damage the black crystal on its forehead, which seemed to disorient the golem. Disoriented, but not stopped. That, however was taken care by some generous application of acidic substance on the golem's arms and legs, provided by his earlier merchant client who stayed to fight.

    And yet after all that hard work, he found himself there, standing inside a teleportation circle, inside the Citadel, right behind the throne split in twain a few moments ago by none other than Kolum Salor himself. The city had fallen; apparently there had been more than one of those rock creatures, and not all defenders were able to stop them. A select few were chosen to be teleported out of the city, among them a Dorukan guardsman who was entrusted with a platinum sphere, which was to be protected at all cost. The rest were to be left, they say, to defend the city. He knew they stayed to die.

    A pity. To find out firsthand how strong Kolum Salor would have certainly been a high point of my life, he thought to himself as the Senub left the throne roon and the spell took effect, turning everything around him pitchblack. He didn't really know why he had gone with the others, had escaped, had left all those people to die, had left an opportunity to fight to his heart's content, to fight to his death.

    Maybe he didn't want to die. Maybe he had something to do still. Maybe there was more at stake than just Salor that moved him beyond his usual self.

    Maybe...

    As the world swirled back into existence, he staggered to keep himself upright, but after shaking his head clear of all thoughts and aftereffects of the teleportation, a sudden surge of memory occured to him. He looked around at the people who teleported with him, and when he saw who he was looking for, he briskly strode towards him, grabbed him by the shoulder and turned the Doruk to face him.

    "By the gods, it cannot be true..." he uttered as he took a closer look at the Doruk's face and confirmed his suspicions, then broke into laughter.

    "August Winters? August "Badger" Winters?"
    Last edited by GuyFawkes; 2013-04-21 at 01:51 AM.

  6. - Top - End - #66
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    August was just helping up a young Aaran when he was briskly turned about and greeted by name. He eyed the Jushorun uncomprehendingly for a moment, before his memories turned back to the Academy and recognition hit.

    "Tharan-Kel! Ha! You old troublemaker! In the name of light and life, what are you doing here?" His greeting was enthusiastic, although he did, almost unconsciously, shift to place himself between Tharan and the bulk the refugees.
    Last edited by Quellian-dyrae; 2013-04-20 at 02:01 PM.
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

    World of Aranth
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  7. - Top - End - #67
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    Tharan-Kel

    The Doruk's subtle reaction did not go unnoticed, as the Jushorun warrior Tharan-Kel burst into yet another fit of laughter.

    "I see you have not changed, my old friend. The Badger is still as resilient and ever the aegis of the weak. That is good to know," he smiled as he patted the Dorukan on the shoulder with his large hand.

    "I, on the other hand, have changed. Matured, if you will," he looked at August seriously before adding, "Okay, maybe just a little," and laughing yet again.

    "It is certainly nice to meet an old acquaintance, and a fellow Soldier at that. Any other time would have given us room for more appropriate celebrations, but alas, I fear this one does not," he went on as he began to do as August had done, helping the refugees around them. "Tell me, August. What is going on? I have been but a few days in Salor, and now I am here, having fled it, left it to its demise."
    Last edited by GuyFawkes; 2013-04-21 at 01:52 AM.

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    "Good to know," August said with a grin and a nod. He waited a beat, and then added wryly, "I think."

    But when Tharan asked what was going on, the mirth vanished from his face. "Wish I could tell you anything useful. I'm not really all that connected with the politics and war and such. This morning was basically just, 'grab what you need and get to the walls, they're here.'" He shook his head, and gave his belt pouch a little pat.

    "Priority now, I'm thinking, is to get everyone up and organized. The Aaran who teleported us seems to know what he's doing, I'm betting he has something of a plan, and probably knows more about what's going on. I was planning to talk to him once we get moving." He hesitated a moment, but everyone here had seen him receive the sphere anyway, so secrecy was, at the moment, not an issue. "Hopefully he'll also be able to tell me what I'm supposed to do with this doodad, other than 'guard it with my life.'"
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

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    Hizzelim stared out onto the mountain vista before him, organizing his thoughts. He was having trouble understanding just how he had come to this particular location.

    Not that it bothered him, as such an incredible experience had been fully worthwhile even if completely pointless, but he considered the chain of cause and effect that led to this point more for his own personal reference.

    It had started on the road. He had reached a crossroads with a sign. He hadn’t bothered to read the sign since it would have no bearing on which way he went. Instead he looked up at the sky. A bird, a sparrow he remembered thinking, flew over the left fork. “As you wish master sparrow.” So he had gone left. If he had gone right he never would have come to this point.

    Eventually the left path became a highway and led into a vast and impressive city, very unlike the settlements in Lakar. In Lakar, most dwellings are underground where the unpredictable and often violent weather shifts cannot so easily damage and destroy. Here the buildings stood tall and close and sprawling, making a maze of streets and alleys. The only landmark that the vertically challenged Doruk could make out in the city was the Citadel, to which he moved. If he had chosen a different Landmark, or none at all he would not have come to this point.

    For hours Hizzelim walked around the walls of the grand structure, admiring architecture and engineering like none he had ever seen. It was an incredible sight to behold. He wandered the city for days, using what little funds he possessed to survive and find lodging. All around him there were whispers of evacuation or fleeing. Hizzelim didn’t pay them any mind, more fascinated with the strangeness of the city. If he had listened he never would have come to this point.

    Everything after that is what seemed to be hard to put together. It all happened so fast. Soldiers panicking. Citizens Crowding. And then those things appeared, those gaudy, rocky, monstrosities. At first they paid Hizzelim no mind, but then they began tearing apart that magnificent Citadel, and that was something Hizzelim just wouldn’t stand for.

    Unveiling his psionic powers, he blasted away at the stony monstrosity with blasts of condensed sound, knocking chips from the horrid thing and revealing more and more of its dark interior. Hizzleim placed himself between it and the Citadel, and thus earning the creatures Ire did Hizzelim enter the fight.

    His Psionic wards helped defend him, but the Golem battered him through even them. With his Mind Blade Hizzelim attempted to fend it off, but found it much like trying to beat back a river. He would surely have been crushed by the thing if not for the intervention of some of the soldiers, who, inspired by the Doruk, managed to pull its attention and bring it down near the wall.

    Then in a moment that was a mixture of fortune and failure, another of the creatures above on the wall wrecked a large cannon, inadvertently knocking the rubble loose, such that it fell and pinned its own brethren below.

    Unwilling to stay to see if the thing was truly finished off, the soldiers hefted Hizzelim to his feet and led him inside the Citadel. The dazed Doruk was in no shape to turn down such aid. From there it became a blur in Hizzelim’s Mind. Words were spoken, a circle of chalk, and then that swirling rushing sensation.

    Hizzelim Looked out at the Mountain Vista before him and mused quite loudly “Not bad for the flight of a Sparrow!”

    Hopping off his rock Hizzelim began wandering, seeking someone to explain this mess to him, finally settling on approaching a pair of competent looking travelers, one of whom was a Doruk like himself.

    "Greetings. I am Hizzelim VanThamis, and I hope not to interrupt a matter of immediate import, but I seem to have become quite more lost than I usually engineer for myself, and could use a piece of thus solicited guidance. To make brief what I have already made quite Loquacious; Where am I, and what just happened?"

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    Tharan-Kel

    "...I see," the Jushorun nodded grimly. He thought about those who were left at the city. The Lord, Kolum Salor, the citizens. If he stayed, maybe he could have done something for them.

    The citizens...

    He looked around him, at the old human male holding his hand for support, at the few who were staggering and the others who had managed the trip without much effort. Sure they were few, but they were the citizens of Salor. All that was left.

    No time for 'What ifs'. This is what is here now. What I can do is help these people.

    He then realized something. Perhaps the thought of losing his life had awakened in him some sort of responsibility for these people who could not defend themselves. He smiled inwardly and shook his head.

    Had he just began to think like August?

    When the Doruk brought the issue of the orb, however, his serious countenance returned. "Yes, there is that. I think it is best to keep that matter to yourself and the Aaran. We do not know what it is, or what it does." Just then, another Doruk approached them, and he stopped his words and turned to him.

    "Hizzelim VanThamis," he nodded. "I believe we are somewhere in the mountains of...Blackstone, yes?" he looked at August's direction for confirmation. "As for what happened, your best guess is as good as ours. We believe the one who can shed more light upon our situation is the Aaran who brought us here."
    Last edited by GuyFawkes; 2013-04-21 at 01:51 AM.

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    "August Winters," he introduced himself to the other doruk. "And yeah, that's pretty much where things stand at the moment," he said with a nod to Tharan.
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

    World of Aranth
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    Hizzelim takes off speaking at an incredible rate, words blending together as he goes. He gesticulates during his speech, gripping the bare spot of his chin thoughtfully and rubbing the tattoo atop his head when ashamed or bashful.

    "Blackstone mountains eh? Fairly straightforward name then, but suitable for recognition of a landmark such as this as I highly doubt the stone is likely to change colors on a regular basis, though given enough time any stone will change in both coloration and shape from erosive forces. Which Aran was that again? Also I would be remiss if I did not elaborate on my prior inquiry into the events which led to our current situation, It was more a general curiosity into the many curious events, not the least of which was the pavement assaulting that beautiful building and that finely dressed chap saying a great deal about failure and orders. However from the look in your eyes I infer that I am either perusing vaults of knowledge to which you are as equally barred as I, or I have once more fallen into my habit of over speaking. Possibly both. Perhaps the situation would be best remedied by a simple gesture indicating the direction I might travel to locate this trans-locative Aran, and ascertain my explanations from they?"

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    Many are there, and then, they are not. The numbers on the mountain begin to dwindle almost immediately, everyone disappearing in clots, some actually teleporting away. Some would look out to the city, but Salor is hidden from view by the overshadowing Rou peak.

    The old man, the one who helped with the golem, rushes over. He holds out a bag, and says, "This, this was his. The Archmage's. I can't find him, I don't think he came through! And I'm no conjurer, I can't break a Dimensional Lock." His face is twisted with worry.

    There are now about a handful of people left on the mountain. Everyone takes off in one direction or another, most without a glance at August. There are a few who look more civilian than combatant, who stick around to coordinate traveling down the mountain. You catch something about a monastery nearby.

    As you speak, you notice almost everyone is gone, the man holding the bag the only one left besides yourselves, and a Senub a little ways off, who appears to have a little toolkit out, fixing himself up.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    "Yeah come on, looks like folks are getting moving. He should be right over..." August began, then realizing he didn't see the Aaran. He looked around rapidly, patting his belt pouch. "Over...umm..." the crowd was thinning out rather rapidly, and without any sign of the one person who probably had something resembling a plan. "O...ver..."

    "..."

    "...Good!" he said with sarcastic exuberance.

    With a weary sigh, he turns to the old man. "Alright, well, nothing to be done for it. What is that, now?"
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

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    Tharan-Kel

    "...That complicates things a bit," Tharan jumped in on the sarcasm wagon. "Yes, what is it? And how in the hells did you get it in the first place?"

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    "His bag, his bag! The one he had all his chalks in, all his notes, all his magical material. The bottle even came through", he says, gesturing to some smashed pieces on the ground. "But the Archmage is gone. His magic, not to mention his wisdom, would have been invaluable. I...I don't know what to do."

    A figure, behind the man says "I know what you can do", and as the man turns around, slashes diagonally upwards throwing blood up into the air with a greatsword.

    As the man falls, unable to form words, behind him is revealed the Senub, now clearly a Khurt, with a 7-foot stature and a greatsword to match. "You can give me the sphere. For the platinum alone its worth a fortune. I like fortunes. And there is no reason for this to be foisted onto you. Let this responsibility go, it is clearly a fool's errand" You notice that while he was tinkering, he has drawn intricate art onto his framework and plating with grease pencil, culminating in his face, which is a horrific twisted mass of drawn teeth on smooth metal. His eyes, beneath the plating, are dark, his artwork lending them a void-like look.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

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    Tharan-Kel

    Tharan's immediate reaction was to moved towards the old man and put himself between him and the Senub, kneeling beside him and putting pressure with his hand on the wound.

    "Hey, old man. Stay with me. Hey!" the Jushorun said as he cradled the bloodied old man. Then, looking at August's direction, he asked.

    "Oi, August. You were good at this kind of stuff. Do something." He tried to say the words as calmly as he could, but the trembling of his voice could not be denied. Once August stepped in to help, Tharan-Kel stood slowly and faced the Senub.

    "You didn't have to do that to the poor man. You could have just asked us instead. Who knows? Maybe we'd have given it to you. Ain't gonna happen now. No. Now the only thing that's going to be foisted 'round here ain't gonna be platinum, but it most certainly as the hells gonna hit as damn hard."

  18. - Top - End - #78
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    Tharan-Kel

    Right after he finished his words, Tharan-Kel closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, gritted his teeth, and clenched his fist around his punching dagger. Like a broken dam, he unleashed all his pent up anger inside of him with a loud shout.

    Opening his eyes, the Jushorun immediately closed the distance between himself and the Senub. Concentrating his inner energies into his limbs, Tharan's hands and feet felt heavier. When he reached striking distance, his right hand with the punching dagger plunged diagonally from above. Retracting his blow, he threw another jab, this time coming from the side.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Full Round Action: Charge the Senub with a Flurry.
    Swift Action: Use 1 nen to treat unarmed strikes as 2-handed weapons for Power Attack and Strength to damage.
    Power Attack -2.
    Attack 1: (1d20+8)[16]
    Damage: (1d8+11)[14]

    Attack 2: (1d20+8)[9]
    Damage: (1d8+11)[14]

    If charging is not possible, Tharan will just use a Standard Attack Flurry (-2 to the attack rolls).

  19. - Top - End - #79
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    "Aye, that I am," August replied, eyes hard. He did not move with haste, methodically advancing, casing about, planning his move. Then he lashed out, his flail glowing with golden light as he struck, channeling positive energy through the weapon. If he hit, the power would radiate out, to coalesce around the old man.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Move action: Advance to threaten the Senub while remaining within 10' of the old man.
    Standard Action: Initiate Crusader's Strike, attacking the Senub at (1d20+6)[23] for (1d8+3)[8], providing (1d6+2)[8] healing to the old man on a hit (I'm fluffing the Devoted Spirit healing as actual positive energy since that kinda fits August better, but I'm assuming the Positive Energy Touch can't be channeled through healing maneuvers like it can spells, right?)

    Maneuvers Available: 1/2.
    Current Stance: Iron Guard's Glare - threatened foes take -4 to hit allies other than August.
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

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  20. - Top - End - #80
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    BlueKnightGuy

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    "I say chaps, judging by his actions and the items I assume are in your possession which he indicates I'd wager that this fellow is allied with that craven band of citadel vandals. Would you concur on that concept?"

    As these words flow from Hizzelim's mouth, he prepares a precautionary defense, mentally condensing a field of kinetic energy to protect from potential attacks.

    Spoiler
    Show

    Manifest Force Sccreen
    8 pp - 1 pp = 7pp
    +4 Shield bonus to AC. 2 mins.

  21. - Top - End - #81
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    Having watched almost all of the people around him leaving singly or in groups to start their trek down the mountain, Xander took the opportunity to seat himself on a low, flat rock and turned his thoughts to his situation once more. Glancing around, he could see that there were only a few people left standing around, talking amongst themselves about who knows what. From a mixed group of Aaran and humans who passed by him as they were leaving, he couldn't help but overhear some talk about a monastery nearby. Making a mental note of that, he scanned the remaining groups and immediately spotted the Doruk who'd been given the platinum sphere, talking with some others a short distance away, but Xander did not pay them much attention. 'I could always try to make my way home,' he thought wistfully, as he rubbed his chin, 'but I don't really like the idea of making the journey alone.' It was an idle, almost wishful, thinking, and Xander knew it: he wouldn't, in good conscience, be able to leave the Doruk on his own. Too many in Salor had died, or were dying, to ensure the safety of that small platinum sphere and Xander felt like he owed them something for allowing him escape with the others. Of course, if he hadn't been trapped in the city while doing work on behalf of some Balarathan merchant company, there would have been no need for him to escape in the first place. As he was weighing the situation, the strange tingling in his forehead flared up again for a moment, and he rubbed his forehead in frustration. 'Great. I suppose I need to see a healer for this, too.'

    Looking up as he tried to coax the strange sensation away, Xander saw an old man rush over to the Doruk and his companions, holding a bag out and babbling about something or other. While they spoke, he also saw a Senub, one of the last stragglers who had yet to leave, approach the same group. It was difficult to judge the construct's intent - he (it?) was certainly walking purposefully - but Xander's instinct told him that something was wrong. He slid his right hand casually down to the hilt of his sword, not sure if he was even being observed at the moment. While the old man continued to rave, clearly agitated, the Senub stopped directly behind him with greatsword in hand; Xander was on his feet almost immediately, drawing his sword and quickly debating whether or not charging in would be a wise idea. Surely they couldn't all still be unaware of him, could they? The debate was resolved when the Senub slashed into the old man, felling him with a single blow.

    The two Doruks and the Jushorun quickly sprang into action, and after seeing the Jushorun charge and the armored Doruk advance towards the Senub, Xander decided to wait and observe their tactics before joining the melee. His left hand alight with magical power, Xander directed a blast of energy towards the Senub, eying the positions of the others and readying himself to charge in as soon as he could see an opening.

    -----
    Actions taken:
    Spoiler
    Show

    Invoke an eldritch blast as a ranged touch attack.
    Attack: (1d20+3)[12]
    Damage: (1d6)[3]
    Critical confirmation, if necessary: (1d20+3)[10]
    Last edited by Failed Phantasm; 2013-05-01 at 01:52 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Kazyan View Post
    This is a forum where you ask "How do you get an ability score to 34?" and get answers that proceed to "You should convert all of history into omnipotent hiveminded clones of yourself. How to do this should be fairly obvious."

  22. - Top - End - #82
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    AssassinGuy

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    The psionicist leaps into action, dredging protective thoughts, emotions, and concepts from his mind. Within seconds the air around him grows slightly opaque and shimmers, as if rising from a heated surface.

    But the Senub simply waited.

    Tharan-Kel, scarcely thinking, jumps from the man and leaps at the steel-clad man, bringing his knife downwards at the neck. It simply rakes down the side, scraping the iron plating the Khurt often wear. The Senub simply stood. But when the Jushoren went for a gap in the right side of his armor, he shifted his hand and slapped his attackers' wrist. Normally this wouldn't have happened, but Tharan-Kel's grip was just a little too loose, and the knife went spinning off into the grass.

    And now the Senub moved, taking up his big sword and slamming it sideways into Tharan-Kel's midsection. You do not see how badly he was hurt, but from the sheer swiftness with which the blade moved, you know it to be bad. The gush of blood as the Jushoren staggers backwards confirms it. <Hit. Tharan-Kel takes 12 damage>

    He moves forward to end Tharan-Kel with another swing, but is checked when the end of a flail bashes him in the face. August stands defiant, flail still moving around and around, losing no momentum even after striking hard.

    The Senub growls, "Do you know who I was before they copied me over and wiped my memory? If you did, you wou-" He is cut off by a ray of energy that bursts over his left shoulder from behind him. A blast that could have killed a lesser man.

    "ALRIGHT, WHO ELSE WANTS TO DIE TODAY?" He roars, turning around to look at this new assailant. It is said that a Senub's eyes were crafted so that you could see the soul of the one inside through them. Right now, you don't need to see his eyes to tell that he's pissed.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

  23. - Top - End - #83
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    "You do, apparently!" August snarled in response, shifting his stance slightly, a soft golden light beginning to spill from his skin. He swung again, his flail once more shedding healing light.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Swift: Change stance to Martial Spirit.
    Standard: Crusader's Strike at (1d20+6)[17] for (1d8+3)[5]. On a hit, provides (1d6+4)[7] healing (counting Martial Spirit) to Tharan-kel.

    Current Stance: Martial Spirit.
    Maneuvers Available: 0/2.
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

    World of Aranth
    M&M 3e Character Guide

  24. - Top - End - #84
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    BlueKnightGuy

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    "Well I daresay some explanations are in order form someone in these whereabouts and if violence is the only means to extract that knowledge from the minutia of circumstance then so be it."

    Hizzelim takes a fighting stance and charges the Senub. As his stout legs drive him forward, a swirling band of multicolored energy sprouts from his hand, coalescing into the shape of a short sword. With the distance closed, he lunges with the Mind Blade.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Actions:
    Draw Mind Blade (Swift).
    Charge if able, otherwise move and attack.
    Attack Roll: (1d20+6)[6](12) +2 if charging.
    Damage: (1d6+3)[4](7)
    Critical Confirmation(Natural 19-20): (1d20+6)[3](9) +2 if charging

    Edited for text color.
    Last edited by RunicLGB; 2013-05-01 at 06:51 PM.

  25. - Top - End - #85
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    Tharan-Kel

    The sight of his own blood spilt did nothing to deter Tharan-Kel; in fact it only excited the Jushorun more.

    Strong, he thought to himself as he clutched his wound.

    Heh, definitely not Kolum Salor. But this will do.

    With a grin on his face, he concentrated his energies on his limbs again and closed in on the Senub. Making use of the opening created by the Doruk Hizzelim who had charged in as well, Tharan threw a right punch straight to the head followed by a spinning elbow crashing down on the Senub's shoulder.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Swift Action: Spend another point of Nen to treat unarmed strikes as 2-handed weapons for Power Attack and Strength to damage.
    Power Attack -2. (2/4 Nen left)
    Full Round Action: If possible, Charge and Flurry to where Tharan can gain flanking with Hizzelim. If not, just move to flank and flurry.

    Attack 1: (1d20+5)[16](21) +2 flanking, +2 charge (if possible)
    Damage: (1d8+11)[12]

    Attack 1: (1d20+5)[9](14) +2 flanking, +2 charge (if possible)
    Damage: (1d8+11)[17]
    Last edited by GuyFawkes; 2013-05-02 at 02:19 AM.

  26. - Top - End - #86
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    Xander was curiously unmoved by the Senub's furious gaze. Of course, he had already faced death more than once today, and the first construct that tried to kill him was much more worrying than this one. For starters, his powers actually worked on a Senub. 'Still,' he mused, as he watched the reckless Jushorun reel from the deep gash he'd been dealt, 'with those two...' The second Doruk leapt into the fray, a very curious blade of energy coalescing in his hand. '...correction: three fighting in close-quarters, flanking him now shouldn't be a problem. If he turns around again, I might be able to charge him from behind.'

    Keeping his eyes on the fight, Xander started circling around the Senub carefully, trying to position himself directly opposite the other three. 'I doubt this one's an idiot, but if he wants to charge at me and leave himself open to three other people, so much the better.' Gripping the hilt of his blade more tightly, to ready himself against the Senub if it did charge, he lifted his left hand and another burst of eldritch power arced out from his fingertips.

    -----
    Actions taken:
    Spoiler
    Show

    Move action: attempt to move behind the Senub, using as much of his 30' move this round as necessary.
    Standard action: invoke an eldritch blast as a ranged touch attack.

    Attack: (1d20+3)[22]
    Critical Confirmation: (1d20+3)[6]
    Damage: (1d6)[5]
    Last edited by Failed Phantasm; 2013-05-06 at 06:56 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Kazyan View Post
    This is a forum where you ask "How do you get an ability score to 34?" and get answers that proceed to "You should convert all of history into omnipotent hiveminded clones of yourself. How to do this should be fairly obvious."

  27. - Top - End - #87
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    AssassinGuy

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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    Hizzelim shoots forward on small legs and plunges his soul-blade directly forward... but he isn't focused enough, and it clashes with the Senub's armor as if it were made of mundane metal. It's hard to focus though, when your opponent is skipping to and fro while wearing gigantic steel plate. Even now, he brings the big sword up and under, catching Hizzelim just below the shoulder.

    The Doruk is not quite as sturdy as Tharan-Kel, and when he falls over, it is clear that he is wounded grievously. You notice large, frighteningly large, amounts of blood dripping from the greatsword, and growing in the pool below the Psion. <takes 28 damage>

    Tharan-Kel barely even notices, engrossed in combat and nearly landing one hit, followed by another that connects more solidly. The armor he wears seems to be denting more and more, and soon it will be unusable.

    This is compounded by August, who actually hits him hard enough to tear his helm-plating off... but not to do any damage to the construct inside. After that, and an eldritch blast hits him from behind, the Senub appears more afraid than inflamed, and peers down at the slowly draining body of Hizzelim, before dropping his sword. He stumbles backwards, and then to the side (to avoid Xander), eventually stretching into a full-out sprint down the trail. He says nothing, simply pumping his arms and legs furiously as he thumps away from you.
    Last edited by Conor77; 2013-05-06 at 09:03 PM.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

  28. - Top - End - #88
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    August growled and took a swing at his retreating foe, but finishing him off was the lesser priority at the moment, and August didn't expect he'd be able to catch him in any case. He moved to the injured doruk, setting a hand on his injury and beginning to channel positive energy into him, carefully guiding the energy to mend the warrior's injury. Still, the wound was bad; it would take time for August to fully heal.

    Spoiler
    Show
    If he provokes an attack of opportunity: (1d20+6)[21] for (1d8+3)[4] damage. If it does hit, I'll also channel three points of my Lay on Hands into Martial Spirit to heal Tharan-kel for five (top him off in case he wants to give chase). If he doesn't provoke, the swing is just fluff.

    Either way, on my turn, Move action adjacent to Hizzelim, standard action to heal him with Positive Energy Touch for (1d6)[6] healing. My minimum Heal check result is equal to the maximum healing I can provide at this level.
    Last edited by Quellian-dyrae; 2013-05-06 at 09:29 PM.
    A role playing game is three things. It is an interactive story, a game of chance, and a process in critical thinking.

    If brevity is the soul of wit, I'm witty like a vampire!

    World of Aranth
    M&M 3e Character Guide

  29. - Top - End - #89
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    Tharan-Kel

    Tharan threw another punch at the retreating Senub, and it was then that he saw the other Doruk Hizzelim lying on the ground, bloodied. For a second, he thought about giving chase and helping the fallen Hizzelim, but then he saw August, and he knew what he had to do. With an explosion of his powerful leg muscles, he took after their enemy.

    "Rargh!" he roared as he aimed to tackle the Senub to prevent it from fleeing.

    Spoiler
    Show
    If the Senub provokes AoO:
    Attack: (1d20+5)[22]
    Damage: (1d8+11)[12]

    This turn,
    Charge and Trip
    Attack (touch): (1d20+9)[13]
    Strength check: (1d20+3)[4] +4 from Jushorun racial ability.

  30. - Top - End - #90
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    Default Re: [IC] Wok: Science Ascended

    As the second Doruk hit the ground in a pool of his own blood, Xander started to shrug the backpack off his shoulders, reaching over with his left hand to grab something out of it. 'Not good. Where is that wand?' The *clank* of the Senub's greatsword hitting the ground made him look back towards the battle to see the construct stumbling away from the group and sprinting off down the trail. The one Doruk had moved over to the other and it looked as though he was treating that frightening gash, and the Jushorun uttered a roar and charged off after the Senub. Rolling his shoulders to get his backpack on properly again, Xander also decided to give chase. 'He hasn't got his weapon and he's got his back turned... might as well do this thing now,' he thought to himself as he took a few steps back, holding his sword at his right side and pointed backwards so he could add his momentum to the forward swing.

    With a sudden burst of motion, Xander launched himself after their fleeing enemy. As he closed to within a few feet of the Senub, he placed his left hand on the hilt of his blade for the added power, aiming his swing low so he could sweep the construct's legs out from underneath him. 'You're not getting away that easily!' he exclaimed mentally - telepathically, in fact. Xander could somehow feel his thoughts as they reached out beyond his own mind, the strange sensation in his mind flaring up again for a moment before beginning to fade away entirely until he felt like he did before leaving Salor. In spite of what he was doing at the moment, he couldn't help but ask himself, 'What did I just do?'

    -----
    Actions taken:
    Spoiler
    Show

    Full-round action: make a trip attempt as a melee touch attack as part of a charge.
    Attack: (1d20+7)[23]
    Opposed Strength check: (1d20+2)[12]
    -2 AC until start of next turn.

    Last edited by Failed Phantasm; 2013-05-08 at 04:54 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Kazyan View Post
    This is a forum where you ask "How do you get an ability score to 34?" and get answers that proceed to "You should convert all of history into omnipotent hiveminded clones of yourself. How to do this should be fairly obvious."

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