And those sketches, as always, look fantastic Kasanip!
Thank you! I hope sometime a complete sketch can be made.
Today the post for Lukina has been read. For giving link with lyrics of song, I want to say thank you! It is helpful.
Somehow it is interesting theme song idea for Lukina.
However, maybe it is a little early for me to recommend [theme song] of Lukina.
But of [Sacred Blue Flame], probably it is obvious to choose a certain song.
Of opening post, it was realized with some embarrassment, a character design and sketch should have been finished before start of game. Because idea of armor wasn't to have [breastplate].
Quote:
Originally Posted by GuyFawkes
At Kasanip, you wouldn't happen to be giving lessons on how to draw?
Sorry, it is only a hobby. I don't think I can teach. Only to suggest it requires [patience] and [luck]. I don't have patience and so much time, so most of time it is only 10-15 minute sketch to show.
If it is desired, please visit my sketchbook thread!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Archpaladin Zousha
Wait, did Kasanip change his/her username?
I have not made any such a change. However, maybe avatar was changed since a post was to be seen by Archpaladin Zousha?
Kasanip - Ah, whoops. I noticed on the sketch that it seemed Lukina was wearing just arm protection and perhaps greaves (since her feet are out of sight). If you'd like, we can retroactively say that the breastplate was too damaged, or something, so that Lukina did not bring it with her afterall. Although if she doesn't manage to block or dodge, I imagine anything that hits her torso then is not going to be fun.
Then again, going from precendent set in previous Ironhearts, armor doesn't tend to protect every well because you're fighting beings that can just punch right through it anyway! So dodging might be the best choice after all!
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I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
Name: Bastion Race: Ironheart-Construct Abilities: The majority of Bastion's abilities comes from its composition.
Entrap/Encase: Bastion was created hollow by Demetrius' intent, to serve one of two purposes: Either to encase a creature, forming a protective armor/second-skin of sorts, or to trap a creature, subjecting it to whatever torture Demetrius intended, whether it was something he himself inflicted, or being suffocated or crushed by Bastion himself. Once trapped inside Bastion, it takes a great amount of strength to break free. Bastion can hold a creature of one and a half the size of Demetrius. As a way around his mobility issue, Bastion can also reverse himself: bending his folds in the opposite direction, essentially allowing him to turn around without turning around.
Metal Composition: Bastion's form, made out of a single, large, flat piece of Ironheart, grants it considerable resistance to most any form of physical attack.
Magic Composition: The magic that forms Bastion grants it considerable strength and durability, giving it enough strength to break or pierce most objects, and giving it the ability to resist the feedback from its blows. Additionally, having no organic material, Bastion's senses are handled through magic: it was given the hearing of a human as if it had ears, it can smell as if it had a nose, but it can see through its entire body.
Magic Repulsion: Because of the nature of its metal, Bastion is heavily resistant to magic, either Divine or Profane.
Knowledge: Bastion, surprisingly, knows a great deal of the Laws of Narle, as well as knowledge about people in positions of power, as well as their lineage.
Weaknesses:
Human Error: Because of the error in Bastion's creation, it possesses knowledge and memories of those used to make it. This causes it to believe that it is Human, if it is not reminded otherwise or forgets that it is what it is. This either comes in the way of attempting to eat, sleep, etc. etc.
Agility: Bastion is less than agile, its form both heavy and bulky. While it can easily support its own weight to climb or exert enough force to jump easy distances, it cannot perform most any action with fluidity, and is currently working on its less-than-stellar reflexes.
Hesitation: When confronted with an issue regarding morality, Bastion itself acts logically in its best interest. However, what personalities remain of those who made him tend to conflict with his own, when applicable.
Alignment: Bastion does not know what side to stay with, or with what it believes. Currently self-serving. Motivation: Bastion is motivated by a need to know who was lost in its creation. To do this, it has decided to find those who have escaped from Ironheart, to ask them if they knew any of those who were used as components of its formation, questioning them. Either by peaceful talk, or forcefully holding onto them and crushing the information out of them. Associates: The only associates that Bastion has are Demetrius, but only through knowledge of him and Demetrius' knowledge of Bastion, and the people who were used to make him, but only through fragments of their personalities and memories. Background:
I am Bastion. I do not know what that means.
I was cut from the Mother-Metal. My first... sensation, was that of loss, as myself was stripped away from a wall, my limbs forming before I was even fully aware or removed. They had not even waited for myself to be fully removed, before they awakened me. I remember standing- something, I have come to learn, is something you must learn, rather than knowing inherent- and looking. Everywhere. There were half a dozen men in the room, four of which held things with sharp edges, one of which stood in front of me, saying words I did not understand, and another man, sitting down, ten paces from me.
He is Demetrius. I am Bastion.
I spoke to Demetrius. I asked him what I was. He said I was Ironheart, come to serve him. He called me his Bastion. I am Bastion. I asked him, why I was his Bastion. He said it was to serve him, and shield him. To protect him, but cage others. I attempted to do so. But in the two months I served, I questioned him. Openly, to his face. I did what he asked, but asked why I was to do it. I crushed men with my body, but I asked why this person. Why this man, above others. He answered for a time. Then he grew tired of repeating himself. I attempted to crush him. To ask him why I was going to crush him. He didn't answer. He ordered me away. He told me, I was his Bastion no longer. I left him, confused, for the first time.
For I was, and am, Bastion.
I wandered into Ironheart, through its winding tunnels. I watched people sleep. Several times, I tried to. I did not. I walked through its pathways for a very long time. I do not know how long. I began to hear voices in myself. Voices that did not ask, but instead, told. I took on instincts that were not mine. Sometimes I took someone's food away. Sometime I gave them water. Sometimes I carried them to different cells. Sometimes I hurt them. I did whatever the voices said was right, or justified, or deserved. At one point, I thought they were me. But they were not. They did not sound like me.
They did not sound like Bastion.
I began to whisper to people in their sleep. Do you know me, I asked. They said no. Sometimes I told them memories. I asked them if they heard them, I asked them, have you heard this once before. Sometimes they said yes. Sometimes they told me, "I've heard that one before, Kensington, why're you saying it again?" Sometimes they said, "Fer' cryin' out loud, Launa, shut up." I did not understand, at first, but then found people who I first saw. Those who held the sharp edges. They said they were memories. They said, I was everyone who they killed to make me. I crushed them when they began to scream I was a failure. I am not a failure, I said.
I am Bastion.
Then the day came when everyone left Ironheart. I put on clothes, and escaped with them. I do not know where they all went. I ran away from it all, following instincts of someone I think is named Yavon. He told me to move it, boy, before they put you back in the cell. When I stopped listening, I was somewhere new. Nowhere near Ironheart. Nowhere near Mother-Metal. Nowhere near the men and women who I told memories to. But I remembered, that many people had left Mother-Metal as I did. I am looking for them now.
Have you seen them?
I want to know whose memories I keep now. And why I kept those, above others. Why they are now remembered, instead of others. Were they worse? Were they better? Why were they better? How many men? How many women? I think I can find out by asking those who left Mother-Metal. I do not know who I am.
But I know I am Bastion.
Play Style: Interaction-heavy Role-playing, simplistic Hack n' Slash. Party Preference: More of people useful to Bastion.
AaaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHH I'M SORRY I'M LATE.
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Avatar drawn by LostOne, many praises and prayers be to he.
Kasanip - Ah, whoops. I noticed on the sketch that it seemed Lukina was wearing just arm protection and perhaps greaves (since her feet are out of sight). If you'd like, we can retroactively say that the breastplate was too damaged, or something, so that Lukina did not bring it with her afterall. Although if she doesn't manage to block or dodge, I imagine anything that hits her torso then is not going to be fun.
Then again, going from precendent set in previous Ironhearts, armor doesn't tend to protect every well because you're fighting beings that can just punch right through it anyway! So dodging might be the best choice after all!
I don't know. To think of character design, I wanted to go with [cool] style. Maybe it isn't so practical. I wonder if such an [OOC] decision is to become punished in [IC].
Abilities
Martial Skills: Mal has been trained for many years in mixed combat art of Terra Style, a predominantly hand-to-hand martial art. His body strength, whilst not on the level of some larger weapon users, is still above the average man. He makes up for this in combat with his use of momentum, to use his whole body's speed to close the gap and add force to his attacks. Mal has also received training in wielding a staff as a weapon.
Along with that strength, his athletic skills allow him to perform acts such as jumping over a 5 foot wall with ease, even with weights attached. His balance and endurance are also beyond the norm, being integral to his stances.
Terra Style:
A dying art of Dwarven origin, as purist magic develops to greater heights and increasingly deadly weapons are crafted. Terra Style combines relatively minor earth magic to help train and add options to the user's hand-to-hand skills.
Range of Effect: This is the range of Mal's earth magic, relying on the density of molecules that his body is contact with. If he were suspended in mid-air or attempts to affect earth suspended in air, but with no actual connection to the ground he stood on, he has no effective powers of earth magic. If submerged in water or quicksand, his radius is around 1 foot from his body. Once on solid ground, his effective range can still vary, with the types of ground from sand to plain dirt to solid stone having an increasingly wider range up to 20 feet.
Loosen/Tighten Earth: Within his effective range, Mal can affect the density of the earth, softening rocks or hardening sand with his earth magic. This doesn't affect the earth's mass, only affecting the bonds that keep it together. The stronger the bonds, the harder to break down, and the looser the bonds, the more effort to build them. Sand to stone and the reverse is an exhaustive process, if on a large enough scale.
Earthen Armour: By submerging a limb, or potentially his body, into a form of earth, Mal can use it as a form of armour. Using his magic to keep the earth passively as dense as leather, he can harden the armour at times to block attacks or just to add solid mass to his punches.
Tremorsense: A skill rather than a power, Mal can tell where any moving being/object is within 30 feet of him, if they are in some way in contact with the same surface, as well as his direct surroundings within 10 feet. Whilst he has a good mental picture of his surroundings, living beings and such are much blurrier. Only effective on surfaces as solid as wood or denser.
Other Skills: Mal also has a basic grasp of the Dwarven Language, having been taught by his master during his training, along with knowledge of some of their customs.
Taught to look for any opening in a guard as made Mal very analytical of his surroundings and body language, only aided further by his sensing skills.
Weaknesses: Foremost is Mal's reliance on a source of earth to use his power properly, without such, he's limited to his own physical skills. However on the other end of the scale, as his tremorsense is constant, he can feel severely overloaded if in a busy area, as he's forced to see every detail at once. He's also a sucker for helping fight a bully.
Alignment: Wanderer
Motivation: Beyond searching for his next job or meal, Mal is little beyond a wanderer, much like his master before him. Though his own skills haven't been mastered yet, he hopes to one day take his own student to pass on his skills. Until then, he keeps his ear to the ground for information about any other teachers of Terra Style, or about mysterious drownings.
Appearance: A man of deceptively, subtle build, often gaining a chuckle from a larger opponent before a fight, Mal wears little beyond loose clothing at a preference. He also has a habit of walking bare foot regardless of where he is. His hair is as thin as he can shave or cut at the time, for convenience sake, though it’s a premature steel grey when grown. He also wears a thin rock ring around his right forefinger always.
Personality: Mal never stays in one place long enough to make roots. Information, food and work in that order are his only priorities. That said, if someone is aggressive to someone weaker, he has no qualms in levelling the field for a complete stranger. A little hard-headed, but friendly to those who need or want friends.
Background: A hyper-active child, Mal's parents found him one day pulling at the beard of a wandering dwarf in curiosity. After explaining that it was no issue, the traveller asked his parents if he teach him something to calm his hyper-activity. From that day, the dwarf stayed and slowly formed Mal into his student, shaping the boy's mind and body into a disciplined fighter. In the last year of his training, Terra Style was truly unveiled to him, with the magic drilled into Mal's mind just the same as any exercise, and incorporated into his fighting methods.
However, one morning as he awoke to the calls of murder. His master was found dead, mysteriously drowned in his living room. There were obvious signs of a physical fight, with rock rupturing through the house to defend the body, and thin streaks of blood that were not the dwarf's, on his knuckles. Mal left after his master was buried, partially to complete his training, slightly to leave behind his sadness and mostly to stop the people responsible.
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Pratchett's Wisdom:
Spoiler
Stupid men are often capable of things the clever would not dare to contemplate...
Seeing, contrary to popular wisdom, isn't believing. It's where belief stops, because it isn't needed any more.
Words are the litmus paper of the minds. If you find yourself in the power of someone who will use the word "commence" in cold blood, go somewhere else very quickly. But if they say "Enter", don't stop to pack.
I was nearly late to post, so I thought a bad pun would aleviate things
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Pratchett's Wisdom:
Spoiler
Stupid men are often capable of things the clever would not dare to contemplate...
Seeing, contrary to popular wisdom, isn't believing. It's where belief stops, because it isn't needed any more.
Words are the litmus paper of the minds. If you find yourself in the power of someone who will use the word "commence" in cold blood, go somewhere else very quickly. But if they say "Enter", don't stop to pack.
I somehow managed to lose track of this thread. Here's a re-post of Sohssal, and I'll try to get an IC post up quickly.
Spoiler
Name: Sohssal Race: Demon Spirit (formerly human) Abilities: As an old and extremely powerful mage, Sohssal has at least cursory knowledge of virtually every field of magic. In particular, he is skilled in evocation (mostly elemental magic) and demonology.
His demonic nature also affords several advantages. His default form is incorporeal (though visible), but he can possess and animate nearly any object. He also has the ability (and the need) to detect and absorb magical energy.
Weaknesses: Silver mirrors painfully force Sohssal back into his frail, elderly physical form. Being part demon, he shares some of their vulnerabilities, most notably towards holy magic. He is also incapable of generating his own magical energy and must drain it from other sources.
Alignment: He represents himself Motivation: Sohssal has largely been driven by the twin urges to live no matter the cost, and to seek revenge regardless of consequence. Now he seeks to escape the Hells, just as he once escaped Ironheart. Associates: None at the moment due to casting himself into hell, but he has found a loyal companion in Shanks Appearance:
Spoiler
In his incorporeal form, Sohssal appears merely as a translucent, shadowy form, appearing mostly humanoid in appearance. However, he stretches over 8 feet tall, and has unnaturally thin arms and legs. His hands are large, the fingers seemingly claws, and his legs finished with unnaturally twisted feet. His head is not a man's, but instead that of a demented predator, with long, twisted ears. Those who can fully see spirits, or who are spirits themselves, see the horror of his demonic form. His skin seems to have the negative color of human skin, and his large torso appears to be encased in twisted armor (truly scales) covered in glowing white symbols. His hands drip with crimson blood, and his eyes burn a fiery white. He appears to have no mouth, but speaks in a deep, yet wispy voice.
Background:
Spoiler
Sohssal was originally a mere human wizard, specializing in manipulation and creation of energy. He was actually born over 100 years ago, his life extended by his own meddling, though not like in any other way he had observed. Even from birth, he showed some innate talent for magic, though as a small child, he never got along with any of the spellcasters who saw an advantage in teaching him. He seemed to prefer just playing with his friends, though his peers were often reluctant to befriend someone who accidentally sets fire to classwork.
Once Sohssal hit puberty, however, his magical talents exploded into existence, and if he even sneezed, bad things would happen. He had little choice but to accept the tutelage of another wizard, though, paranoid as he was, suspected that he placed a curse on Sohssal so his talents would fly out of control. The kindly wizard was not without his own motives, however, as he was nearing the end of his life, an he wanted someone to continue his work, and Sohssal showed great promise.
Eventually, Sohssal took a liking to his mentor, and mourned after he passed on at the ripe age of 127. Not even this wizard was without life-extending magic. Sohssal himself began to fear for his own life, and, instead of continuing his predecessor's work, began feverishly researching longevity magic. Humans died of age, he reasoned, so a good way to avoid that was to become something other than human. A lich came to mind, but Sohssal refused to be a walking corpse. Instead, he began dabbling in darker arts, learning how to speak with demons. Eventually, he summoned and bound one, and began dissecting it mercilessly, figuring out just how they worked. With this knowledge, he performed one last ritual in an attempt to become immortal. When he completed it, his soul was torn excruciatingly from his body, and hurled into the statue of a demon. Still saturated with residual magic, the new Sohssal stumbled forward, accidentally slamming a fist into one of his magical aides; a mirror set in pure silver. Sadly, it was still filled with energy from the ritual, and the magical backlash permanently scarred Sohssal's soul.
After recovering from the shock of a new body, Sohssal laughed madly, seeing that his hard work paid off. He began testing the limits of his new body, finding that, as a mighty statue, he had great strength. Eventually, however, he found that being 12 feet tall in a lab built for a human was rather troublesome, and he wished he had a smaller body. To his surprise, he was suddenly torn again from the statue, possessing one of the nearby tables. Nearly throwing off the beakers resting on his top from surprise, Sohssal discovered that he could, in fact, possess any object he pleased. After getting used to his new state of existence, Sohssal began plotting.
With his newfound power, Sohssal started plans to accomplish his new dreams of power. But not many people liked this, and numerous assassins were sent after him. However, none were trained to assassinate furniture, and Sohssal still had full control of his magic power. Sohssal conquered his home city, ruling it for a couple of decades as he saw fit. But he eventually grew bored of it, and, after picking a successor, merely packed up and left, going elsewhere to seek something to do.
After nearly a century of adventuring, Sohssal came upon the kingdom of Narle, and decided that it was nice enough to conquer. In secret, he set up a highly-secured lab and began his plotting once again, gathering up a myriad of statues to use as bodies. It was all going well until one final group of assassins arrived, and they seemed to know Sohssal quite well. He was furious at this intrusion. Had he forgotten to ward against scrying? Regardless of this, he began casting his deadliest spells, but was surprised and horrified when they held up a large mirror in a frame of pure silver. Sohssal screeched inhumanly as once again, his soul was torn from his body, and he fell to the floor, solidifying into his weak, human form. He struggled to his feet and tried casting spells again, but he found he couldn't gather the magical energy before they tied him up. He was imprisoned in Ironheart secretly, stopping the menace that was Sohssal before he could cause any more damage.
He was normally forced to possess a very strong-willed man (later revealed to be named Roger), covered in runes to prevent Sohssal from simply leaving him, as a mobile prison cell. His stationary cell was even worse, chaining him to the floor, and every surface was a mirror set in silver. After what seemed like an eternity, Sohssal saw an opportunity to escape, and leaped at it. During his escape, he made at least one friend, Omega, and multiple enemies, the Four (now Three) Sages, who declared a truce at least long enough to help Sohssal stop Azguloth, and they freed him, from both the prison of Ironheart and the prison of flesh, in return for his help.
After escaping, Sohssal sought to consolidate his power. After briefly reuniting with his old friend Seymour, he teleported back to his old lab, only to find it flooded and overrun with water elementals. It was also there he was offered an alliance with the Baron, and, worried that the forces of Heaven would hunt him down, eventually agreed to it (alienating Roger in the process). He developed a powerful demonic plague to secure the alliance, but he was betrayed by both the Baron and Omega, and locked away once more. But a new ally, Shanks, rescued him, and he was able to help rescue Miriam out of spite in the Battle of Narle, stop the plague, and cast both himself and the Baron into the Hells.
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Order of the Pstick Avatar by Sneak
You forgot the part where I like to run sixteen different plot threads, each one connected but more or less separate for each player.
Of course, due to popular demand, we'll be pulling that in a little so that people can play suffer and die together, but still.
That will have to wait for a few more DMs, however.
Speaking of which, it looks like we have 14 replies by my count. Impressive! Although not entirely unexpected, given it's the very start of the thread. Given that the two missing are The_Snark and Lonna, I'm not particularly concerned.
So, current DM count stands at: 2/14. Not so good, but then I never expected to *actually* get 14 DMs done during the weekdays.
Meanwhile, to give you all something to keep you busy, go check on the theme songs. I'll be adding a good handful of the themes for the Fiend Lords tonight (roughly half).
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I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
Meanwhile, to give you all something to keep you busy, go check on the theme songs. I'll be adding a good handful of the themes for the Fiend Lords tonight (roughly half).
Fantastic, I had been wondering exactly which eight were the ones Ander imprisoned.
I'm assuming that was Angel Blood. Lovely. We've seen people drinking Angel Blood before... What exactly kind of effect does that have? Are the effects any different for a "lost soul" such as yours truly?
What kinds of obvious, physiological changes have occurred as a result of having died? Do dead souls have to breathe? Do I have a pulse/heartbeat? Do I bleed? Do I get hungry? Is speaking still a function of lungs, air, and vocal chords or is it a projection of intent?
What kinds of obvious, physiological changes have occurred as a result of having died? Do dead souls have to breathe? Do I have a pulse/heartbeat? Do I bleed? Do I get hungry? Is speaking still a function of lungs, air, and vocal chords or is it a projection of intent?
I would also appreciate an answer to these questions.
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Truly awesome Ark Tamaeus avatar by Bryn. Full size version here.
OverWilliam - Angel blood is kinda weird. In its raw form it doesn't do much, but process it into an elixir like the Baron and Umber did, and drinking a steady diet of it makes you functionally immortal. So really, it basically was just blood, although oddly refreshing given that it was blood you're drinking. Of course, you're also a fiend-in-trainning now, so that means the lingering holiness of the angel blood burned your throat - hence the tingling, spicy sensation. So, as for actual effects . . . not much really?
As for the dead - essentially the soul creates a new, "perfected" body for itself from the eternal material of the afterlife. This makes it immune to aging, as well as starvation, dehydration, aphyxiation, and exhaustion. Instead of needing oxygen, food, etc. to sustain itself, the new body is more or less sustained entirely from the power of the soul (since this new afterlife body is essentially a construct of the soul to begin with).
Air is still needed for vocal cords and the like, however. Some fiends do have the power of telepathy, but most tend to communicate through good, old-fashioned air passing through muscles. That being said, the soul's new body is still not invulnerable - it still has blood and the like, and so it still bleeds and can die/be destroyed, forcing the soul to return and create a new afterlife body for itself. Essentially, you are immortal, not undead.
Why the whole thing starts with a weak mortal body that falls apart after less than a century (literally burned out by the soul) - who knows. The gods might, but they aren't talking.
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I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
So if I suddenly disappear without notice, it's because probably going to be because I was arrested for googling "how to make explosives". ;)
If Googling "how to make explosives" can land you in jail, then I think I'm going to suddenly disappear too, and none a yous betta snitch on Ol' Cardea to the coppers, got it?
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Avatar drawn by LostOne, many praises and prayers be to he.
Hrmmm . . . only 8 by the deadline this time. That's not as good, although admitedly I only gave two days instead of four this time. Oh well, easier for me to write things up during the week if there's less anyway.
Current Progress: 4.5/8 (and sadly, done for the day. )
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I didn't actually intend to kill EVERYONE. It just sort of happened.
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