"I have to admit, questing knights makes more sense than dying knights." Not that he hasn't encountered this brand of stupidity before, "Anyways, the sooner I leave the better." He turns to the dryad, "Are you coming with me, or do you want to stay here and enjoy yourself?"
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The dryad smiles, "What? I thought you were the one doing all the enjoying in here." She says with a glance at the queen's chest that have changed size since she first entered the room. "I'm not planning to stay around though, this room might get pretty filled up the longer you stay here."
"Thank you brave heroes!" The queen exclaims while apparently trying to match up further more to Harnel's fantasies, much to the glee of the dryad. "Told you so, better leave before I get smothered!" She states with a grin.
Harnel frowns, but can't help looking, "Right, yes, let's go." He turns towards the door, scooping up the dryad* along the way so that he's carrying her bridal style towards the entrance of the hall. The reason for this becomes apparent when Harnel exits the castle, as he takes to the air; he's a lot faster at flying than he is at walking, after all, and even if this place was odd for that, it didn't change the fact that he wants to get this over with.
*Attempted
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The dryad openly laughs at Harnel's obvious interest in the queens bosom as he attempts to sweep her off her feet. "Hey! I'm not your wife, fugly!" She protests while stepping away from him. "Walking will take just as quick here."
Harnel sighs, "Fine, fine. Let's just go already," Harnel says, sighing, "Besides, I bet you wouldn't even like to know how wonderful flying is." And he begins walking towards the door, expecting her to follow. He doesn't worry about the queen at this point; he's got a directive, after all, and she abandoned any form of formality quite a while ago.
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"Good luck heroes! I will pray for your success!" The queen exclaims as she waves them off, the rest of the court moving away from them as they walk, bowing deeply before the two.
The dryad follows the Harnel with an gleeful expression on her face. "So how big is your wife? Like this?" She asks with a grin as her hands extends out far in front of her chest, finding this hilarious apparently.
Harnel shakes his head, "No. But... Well, she has illusions, you know?" If the blush would show through his scales, his face would be red at the moment. No real point in hiding it now.
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Harnel shrugs, still glad his blush is hidden, "And what would be wrong with that? All men want something that they don't have. For me, that's for my wife to have larger breasts, and even then, I can still get that if I ask. Anyways, we should focus on the journey."
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"You're weird!" The dryad exclaims happily as she skips after Harnel, the gate opening automatically once they approach it. The suits of armor letting them past once again. "I just thought you looked weird, really." She continues to comment while walking in front of him.
"But yours is really weird." The dryad teases. "Never met a person as weird as you are!" She really seem to be milking this of all that it's worth even if her teasing isn't all that sophisticated.
Harnel turns towards her a smiles, "Tell you what. You can keep teasing me about it only if you make your own bust bigger. Otherwise, I want you to stop. It's getting a bit tired."
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And so it has come; Harnel's tournament is finally in the works.
He currently sits upon a balcony that's given a good overview of the arena, three chairs present on it. Harnel sits in the central one, while the chairs to his left and right are for the other judges; it's up to their players if Ilpholin and Wenomir have arrived yet.
The arena itself is grand, a sand covered fighting area in the center of a circular coliseum made from the same black granite that his home is made from. It's also an hour to the Northwest of Inside. An attached building, which guests have to go through to arrive in the coliseum, is the school proper. The floor of the arena is granite as well, though that is difficult to tell with a foot of sand in the way.
A pair of NPCs wait at the gates of the school to take names and registration; any individual who is here to spectate will be asked to leave any combat equipment at the door (and to pay a small fee to spectate in the first place), ready to be picked up on the way out. Combatants, who also register here, will be allowed to keep their equipment. Those who are here to watch will be directed towards the stands, while those who are here to fight will be directed to the waiting room of the arena.
((note, as long as something bad doesn't happen at the gate, just godmode into your place in the stands or the waiting area; the NPCs that are there for registration purposes are NPCs after all))
[Arcadia]
"Well then, I guess you won't be teasing me anymore, will you?" Harnel smirks, and continues walking, "As for why, I thought you said everything here was a dream. In theory, I suppose I could just dream you up a large bustline."
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Wenomir has arrived. He's dressed in his full armor and has his sword, axe and knives with them. The occasion merits a full combat gear. He sits down in the right chair, his sword and axe leaning against it.
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Boris has registered his name for combat, and is sitting in the waiting room. He's probably the least-equipped out of everyone there, the only weapons he brought with him are his ballistic knife with its extra blades, and a combat shovel. He's also wearing a standard Spetsnaz combat uniform rather than any form of armor.
The waiting room is also occupied by Jacob, who is almost as seemingly under-equipped as Boris. In fact, he doesn't seem to be carrying weapons at all! Of course, those familiar with Jacob's combat style know that the omnipresent Etherium Armor upon his breast is more than enough to make him dangerous.
[Arcadia]
"Well then, I guess you won't be teasing me anymore, will you?" Harnel smirks, and continues walking, "As for why, I thought you said everything here was a dream. In theory, I suppose I could just dream you up a large bustline."
[Arcadia]
"Pffh, it's a dream controlled by someone else, the queen. That's why her bustline got so large. She's playing with you, making you do all this and then watch as you fail. That's how she is supposed to grant you all those wishes." The dryad explains.
"I assumed it might be something like that," Harnel says, "I just have to keep my mind on what I want to get in the end; it shouldn't be too hard, but I am wary of her trying to keep me here."
"This begs the question though; how does she know this about me?"
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Ghoul rested impatiantly, leaning her back on a wall as she watched the registered bodies slowly filter in. Wearing what looked to be some form of technologically advanced tactical armor, the general lack of apparent weapons might give some cause for interest as it seemed the muse had only brought along a few knives total. While she was evidently much more accustomed to firearms, as might be guessed from the empty holsters here and there, her participation in this kind of tournament might be seen as strange.
Then again, martial arts was always handy to know in close quarters combat so perhaps that was her intention? Either way, all save one blade seemed to be weighted for throwing although she was still waiting to see if such ranged weaponry would be permissable given the apparent nature of the tournament.
Last edited by Terumitsu : 10-10-2012 at 06:42 PM.
The dryad shrugs, "I dunno, maybe from your dreams or something? Besides, we aren't made of dream stuff like her. She wouldn't be able to change my or your body like that."
Wearing a box with a number of different staff on his back, a man with his face wrapped in black cloth goes to the enterance to sign up for this tournament. After a short moment, he hands over the fee, and signs the list.
A pair of young men dressed in Servant's livery are sitting at the entrance. They're NPCs, so without a good reason to deny someone, they're allowed to be godmodded for expediency.
In this case, they have no reason to say no, "Go on right ahead, sir."
If he wants to be a spectator, he'll be asked to leave the staves behind. If he wants to be a combatant, there's no application fee; the spectators are paying for all that, after all.
And because I forgot to describe it in the last post I made, Harnel is currently wearing an adamantine breastplate, boots, and gauntlets, his greatswords, like Wenomir, resting against his chair.
[Arcadia]
"It's good to know I won't be modified while I'm here, then. That's always a hassle," Harnel says, just keeping up a steady pace.
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Harnel's School/Tournament Grounds
Kirlia walks up to the proper person with an envelop and tries to hand it over. "Everything you need will be found inside."
And indeed it will!
This is what Kirlia looks like:
Spoiler
Anyways, handing over the envelop to the NPC, Kirlia goes into the waiting area for combatants, making sure her armor was on properly.
Rogar heads over to the waiting room, a bit glad that he didn't have to pay to get in here. After all, he had no idea if there was an entry fee for this tournament, though most tournaments have one.
Three other people here, that's not so bad. At least this tournament would be quick.
There is another, err... person arriving. "Whoo yeah! We're going to show that hawt chick our hot stuff and make all the guys jealous of just how ripping awesome we are. Then the after-tourney bowchickabowwow, oh yeah. Blood for the Blood Rose! WHOOOOO!!"
Just for emphasis, Stu spouts a burst of flame over his head and into the air.
Trust me, it made me cry when he told me he'd do this.
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There is glory for those who resist their fate.
A tiefling girl has been dropped off by two elves, seemingly her parents.
Don't mess this up. I'm sure as hell hoping to get you out of our home soon, little bastard. The male elf points a threatening fist at the girl and sneers. They walk away.
The half-devil child walks over sullenly into the waiting room, black hair falling over her eyes.
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Spoiler
Quote:
This is the thief who likes to hoard,
That loves the bard with the puppet Lord
That admires the fighter with the green-hilted sword,
That employs the Wizard, whose bird is ignored,
That has the gender unexplored
That intrigues the Halfling, usually bored,
That slew a mountain of the goblin horde,
That follows the cleric,
That serves the lich,
That seeks the gate,
That guards the snarl,
That lives in the prison the gods built.
Tournament Waiting Room
Kirlia notices the tiefling girl and walks over. "Hey, you okay? You look kinda...sullen."
Good job Kirlia! You identified it exactly!
My parents. Or, foster parents. She turns her face to reveal a large scar across her cheek.
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Spoiler
Quote:
This is the thief who likes to hoard,
That loves the bard with the puppet Lord
That admires the fighter with the green-hilted sword,
That employs the Wizard, whose bird is ignored,
That has the gender unexplored
That intrigues the Halfling, usually bored,
That slew a mountain of the goblin horde,
That follows the cleric,
That serves the lich,
That seeks the gate,
That guards the snarl,
That lives in the prison the gods built.
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Re: [Nexus] Harnel's Plots
