Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
Three months ago each of your received mysterious summons and were given directions to a warehouse in the distant city of Verdan. Each letter contained something of appeal to you; money, power .. revenge. Whoever this benefactor is he, she or they know you're sordid pasts well and the temptation was far too much to pass up.
Upon entering the dark warehouse your eyes adjust and you realize that it is, in fact, an abandoned monestary. It's tapestries torn and put to the torch, it's stain glass and windows shattered, pews destroyed and altar defiled by grafitti. Waiting at one of the benches, knelt in mock prayer, is a single solitary individual, hooded and concealed by his grey robes.
__________________ A tale set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium.
In strides a hulking figure in a worn and battered breastplate. Between the metal and leather paddings, the only flesh visible on him is his face, which isn't too pretty, and is further marred by a streaking burn under his right eye. His brown has is roughly chopped, and his entire right arm has been replaced by magically reinforced and animated black stone. His armor is specially crafted with small metal clasps on the back holding a giagantic hammer. Bound to the side of the hammer is a bow that looks almost absurdly reinforced, and on his left hip hands a large double-bitted axe. Calling back to those entering behind him "Eyes!" his hands flash with a quickness you'd not expect of a man his size, and flicking his hammer to his hands he holds it aloft, and with a swiftly muttered phrase, it lets loose a tremendous flash of light.
Spoiler
DC: 14 reflex save for those who don't close thier eyes upon hearing 'Eyes' within twenty feet of him. Those failing it are blinded for 1 round.
__________________
Life is a gamble, roll the dice. If your life is like cards, rig the deck.
"Boy, sure would be nice if we had some grenades, don'tchya think?" -Jayne Greatest number of kills In Valhalla Round 1 with Hsams Goht
Following behind him, staying close to the walls and in the shadows is a dark figure. He is dressed in blacks and greys, all the better for blending into the surrounding darkness.
He moves with fluid grace, backing himself against a wall. A small 'target' shield is strapped to his left forearm. In both hands he wields a crossbow. The strange thing about it, though, are the few bolts sticking out of the bottom of the crossbow.
The dark figure's head dips for a moment in response to the huge warrior's "eyes!" urging. The hood of the man's cloak shades his face and eyes from the blinding light.
Once Rash shouts, Lyra's hand comes down on his hammer. "Not now. He's not violent and he's not even looking this way." She speaks in a song-like voice. She turns toward the large man and her voice lowers significantly. "We can dispose of him later, when we have answers, ok?" The small woman barely reached up to Rash's hammer, and she did nothing to obscure her beauty like their other friend. Her tanned skin was completely unmarred, and her full blonde locks cascade down from her head in flowing elegance. She wears a simple pair of britches and a light silk blouse beneath a shirt of silvery chainmail. She was senselessly beautiful and carried herself with an air of self-assurance.
"I assume you are our contact." The small woman shouts over the destroyed church. "My companions have already expressed a desire to kill you, and to be honest, you're doing little to help me convince them not to. Someone put a bow on him and put an arrow through his chest if he doesn't turn around in twelve seconds."
A rather strongly build human with black hair that ist just long enough to cover his ears, wearing chainmail and a greatsword strapped across his back moves slowly towards the old warehouse as he sees it lighting up with a flash of light for a short moment. Now what was that? Could be a trap, after all... he draws his sword before he walks in.
Upon entering, he has a hard time hiding the look of surprise on his face as he sees the huge creature with a stone arm. "Who are you? Whats going on here?", he says as he lifts his sword over his shoulder, ready to strike if he should be attacked.
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To the Dungeonmasters in my games: Having lots of work stress recently, feel free to move games on if I don't respond within 24 hours.
Turning at the unfamiliar voice, Rash easily twists his hammer out of Lyra's grip and faces the newcomer who's drawn sword. Smiling at the percieved threat, and the chance to do battle, he grips his hammer and joyously slams it into the ground at the prospect of battle.
Spoiler
If needed. Attack - (1d20+10)[24]Damage - (2d4+24)[29]
__________________
Life is a gamble, roll the dice. If your life is like cards, rig the deck.
"Boy, sure would be nice if we had some grenades, don'tchya think?" -Jayne Greatest number of kills In Valhalla Round 1 with Hsams Goht
"Fascinating. Looks like my old friend Merd sent you... I guess that explains everything. I'll tell you what. You work for Merd? Come on, if thats so... maybe I'll be in a merciful mood and make your death quick. But then again... better don't get your hopes up." He says, staring straight into rash's eyes while he gets into a defensive stance at the door, apparently determined to fight to the death if necessary.
Spoiler
Intimidate - (1d20+19)[32] ((Social Intimidate, that is. I don't wanna trigger the Mark of Justice. ))
__________________
To the Dungeonmasters in my games: Having lots of work stress recently, feel free to move games on if I don't respond within 24 hours.
The half-orc exhaled, placing one hand to his forehead.
He'd been a bit behind the stone-armed creature - and most of the rest, in fact. He'd been glancing around - ears shifting towards sounds, stepping lightly as he examined the area. Interesting.
He stretched, then scratched his arm - he was wearing a pair of blue-and-white striped shorts, and little else sans a backpack and shortsword. Stoidly, he watched the beginnings of the argument in front of him - he had missed the blinding light due to distance.
"No need for that right now." He said, his tone impassive as though he was mentioning the time of day. He extended the palm of his hand towards the kneeling figure. "I believe it's that creature who has summoned us all here. Let's see what he has to say, before we begin striking out - I'm sure there will be plenty of time for that."
He paused, running his tongue along his tusks, a hint of irritation glancing in his eyes; orcish tusks made it irritating to speak common. Tier figured, given the apparant drives of at least those two, the figure would know to start speaking shortly - or he may not get a chance to do so at all.
Interesting.
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Beginnings usually happen over trifles... even if it's a coincidence...
The stranger stands and sheds his baffling disguise. In It's place is a giant laced in a lattice work of bone that resembles some macabre mockery of armor. In place of a human face is a stern skull helmet, frozen in perfection, with only two glowing red sparks in it's hollow eye sockets giving it any semblance of life. It speaks to all of you without words or movement; 'Six of seven are here; where is the last of ye, oh Knights of Hell?'.
__________________ A tale set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium.
Smiling still at the prospect of a battle to come, Rash throws his head back and laughs at the prospect of being considered an agent of someone. When his laughter slows, he grins still and responds with "Merd? Who in the nine hells is Merd?" and then begins to ramble on in a language that sounds like a lot of deep rumbles and growls. After carrying on a bit like that, he grows bored.
Turning to the hooded figure, he is about to call out when it rises and speaks. He then calls out "Who are you, and why have you summoned us here? Do you merely wish to test our mettle? Am I to squash you?"
Spoiler
For those who speak Giant:
Spoiler
"Foolish humans always thinking everything is based around them. Erythnul, guide my hammer, and I will take them. First, Lord of Battle, let me find the reason for this summoning. Then I will grind them to a paste, and make them wail!"
__________________
Life is a gamble, roll the dice. If your life is like cards, rig the deck.
"Boy, sure would be nice if we had some grenades, don'tchya think?" -Jayne Greatest number of kills In Valhalla Round 1 with Hsams Goht
A second, smaller man steps out from behind a broken pew. He wears the same grey robes but his armor is visible underneath and wears no helmet. His face is rough and scrappy but has sharp gray eyes."No, good sir, I assure you that all will be explained once the seventh person arrives. Please forgive my friend as he has a certain taste for ... theatrics."
The skeletal knight tilts it's head towards it's companion and speaks again in it's booming, ethereal voice. 'Merrick! Do not hold a knight's courtly tongue ransom to detest.'
Groaning the other man rolls his eyes. "I do not think they came all this way for you to spout poetry and flowery language at them."
__________________ A tale set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium.
He had not noticed the cloaked figure untill he began speaking. Upon hearing the figure speak he relaxes his stance and puts the sword into the ground by its point, still touching it loosely with both hands.
He decides to ignore the hulking brute and his question, considering him not worthy of his time and instead turns to the secound hooded figure (though he still watches rash out of the corner of his eye). "So theres indeed someone here who has a offer of interest to me. I'd prefer if we'd get to business as soon as possible."
Spoiler
Just out of interest, I'd like to see how much my character knows about Rash's enhancement. Knowledge_Arcana - (1d20+3)[21]
If it ain't Arcana, feel free to roll any others for me. Got 1 point and a total mod of +3 on all except for Local, Architecture and Nobility.
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To the Dungeonmasters in my games: Having lots of work stress recently, feel free to move games on if I don't respond within 24 hours.
"Glad you put your sword down, mate. I would have hated to get your blood on my clothes." a half-whispered voice says from the shadows to the sword-bearing newcomer.
ooc:
Spoiler
Unless you can beat his hide in shadows check (37), or unless you have Blindsense/Lifesense/Tremorsense...you'd be startled, don't you think?
Although he can't see who was talking to him, he turns his head to where the voice came from. "That I can understand... because for that you might just have to show yourself... and usually cowards prefer to stay hidden."
Spoiler
OOC: Yup, that seems likely. But I'm not my character, who has been involved in years of warfare against a CE religious organisation, so I'd say it doesnt seems entirely unlikely that this isn't the first time he got talked to/threated from someone he can't see.
__________________
To the Dungeonmasters in my games: Having lots of work stress recently, feel free to move games on if I don't respond within 24 hours.
"Your kind are all alike. Rush in with sword drawn, thump your chest, wave your sharp stick around. Beat people up." again, the sinister chuckle. "He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Winning. Because that means you get to live another day."
Upon hearing the whispering voices last words, his face turns red with anger as he remembers his own death and despite being calm so far he now urgently wants to make the coward that dares to ridicule him shut up... if he could just see him.
He gathers his calm again as the woman speaks. "We could, if there wouldn't be someone who is apparently unable to come here in time."
__________________
To the Dungeonmasters in my games: Having lots of work stress recently, feel free to move games on if I don't respond within 24 hours.
Sliding his hammer into the clasps in his armor, Rashnahlkhan carefully resettles his gauntlets, then walks over and thumps a finger into Isak's chest, as he says calmly "You. Need to learn to learn to hold your tongue, and keep from threatening my friends. Failure to do that is most likely to leave you trapped in yet another form. Meanwhile, I say we proceed without the laggard. I'm unwilling to wait any longer." He addresses the last comment to the unhelmeted man.
Spoiler
Tapping will provoke an AoO, if you want to take it. (I think subdual damage won't trigger the Mark.) Won't do anything to Rash, but will let you vent some frustration.
__________________
Life is a gamble, roll the dice. If your life is like cards, rig the deck.
"Boy, sure would be nice if we had some grenades, don'tchya think?" -Jayne Greatest number of kills In Valhalla Round 1 with Hsams Goht
Merrick pauses a moment and goes stiff. A line of sweat forms across his brow and he turns to the skeletal knight with a troubled look.
"Erhm! If I can have your attention, please!" he shouts. "As much as we would love to see you all tear one another apart there is the ever urgent matter of explaining ourselves." He nods in approval of Damien's words.
"Let me explain; we are the Order of Greywall. As some of you probably all ready know we are Paladins, or were a long time ago. Like many other orders, both religious and secular, we've been hunted by the Celebrant Cimourdain. In our case, through the Dasani family." he says, cutting his eyes to Damien. "Anyway, I'll spare you the rest of our misery. The point is these two men are untouchable; not just in a sense of power or prestige but literal. The reason the current power vacuum even exists is because these two men and despite what history will tell you, are far more then what they appear to be. Immortal. Untouchable. Whatever they've done to ascend this far his rendered them immune to even the Gods' own wrath and because of that they've been the cause of the current turmoil butchering followers of any and all faiths indiscriminately with legions of fanatics, demons and mercenaries." He shook his head pitiably and sighed.
"Except, if our divinations and sources are right, they're not immune from the lot of you."
__________________ A tale set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium.
"You know quite a bit about us." the dark figure says. "All we know about you is that you were paladins." he shrugs his shoulders. "Who is this 'we' and 'our' that you talk about? Who is providing you with information about us?"
"Oh gods.. I hope half you lot can work a blade better than you can work your brains.. Lets say that these men continue on their course what with the butchering and general foolishness. What happens? Lets see.. Gods become powerless and their angelic ilk become horribly impotent. Thats all well and good, but theres another problem. Not just gods are getting screwed over."
The woman crosses her arms over her chest and looks toward [TheMeanDM]. "Think for a second. They were paladins. They know things about us that only our.. Lets say benefactors, would know. They're not batting for Pelor, if you catch my drift. Anything else is relevant, since we're obviously not dealing with more chaotic forces. And as for our problem.. Well, what happens our benefactors stop helping us? How long do you think that corpse will hold out before you're back there, screaming and crying while fire and brimstone consumes your flesh?"
Lyra frowns. "What kind of man would I be if I let some ****er decide my fate for me? I'm in, and once those guys are gone I'm back to my own business."
Merrick cuts in looking directly at Damien. "I'm afraid our sources have to remain anonymous, mister Thornblade. You wouldn't believe what we've had to do just to find all of you."
That's the spirit, m'lady! the skeleton knight booms, raising one arm in salute at Lyra's perceived eagerness while Merrick simply groans.
Crossing his arms over his chest Merrick speaks once more, his tone growing more dismal by the second. "This is a war not only for our survival but your's as well. You may all ready be Damned and life for you is fleeting and pointless but we will aid you, supply you, by whatever means we can to help you gain revenge and maybe, just maybe, even break your curse. Our goals may be different but the enemy is mutual and we'd sooner see you used as our sword then slain by the Dasani, the Celebrant and the list of other nightmares you've managed to make enemies out of. So are you in or out?"
__________________ A tale set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium.
Thornblade shrugs, ignoring the outburst by Lyra. "Anonymous, eh?" he says, skeptical. "I see." he chuckles ruefully. "You make an excellent and persuasive argument." he pauses.
Spitefully turning his back on Isak in blatent rejection of him as a worthy foe, Rash claps his hands swiftly to each of his weapons, confirming thier presence, then turning a cautious eyes on the 'Paladins' he says "I'm not a fan of playing henchman to any man. Combat though, is worth many costs. And Thornblade needs someone to stand face to face with his foes so he can oh so expertly insert a blade and ruin all the fun. I'm in, but I'll hold you to your offers of aid and supplies at the very least. Now give me a worthy target!"
__________________
Life is a gamble, roll the dice. If your life is like cards, rig the deck.
"Boy, sure would be nice if we had some grenades, don'tchya think?" -Jayne Greatest number of kills In Valhalla Round 1 with Hsams Goht
Damien chuckles at Rash. "Oh come now, Rash. Don't try making me look bad to these folks." he waves his hand at the new comers. "You know I always let you beat on them for awhile before having my own fun." he grins.
Though he would have loved to drive his blade into Rash he held back for now, since now he knew he was on the same team as himself - and despite probably not being useful for much else, at least he might be good for taking a few hits for him.
"So you two... Paladins... are hiring us to destroy those god-killing abnominations." He smirks as he points out the irony of the situation.
"What about the gods? It seems that we have some kind of leverage in our hands right here. At the very least enough to call in a few favours. Have you examined any of the ressources we could gain this way yet? To answer your question... getting revenge sounds too good to resist. I'm in."
Spoiler
Nah, no need for that. I've been way too busy to post much the last few days anyway and I don't really have any frustration to vent off. Also, I'd probably have some problems hitting rash's AC (how much problems exactly is hard to tell without knowing what applies to him and what not).
__________________
To the Dungeonmasters in my games: Having lots of work stress recently, feel free to move games on if I don't respond within 24 hours.
Merrick grins sardonically. "If you mean divine artifacts from ancient times, priests capable of summoning forth deific monoliths and the like.. well you're going to be disappointed. We don't have any more grand armies we can marshal or vast armories for you to raid, not after Cimourdain's legions have crushed most of our brother and sister orders. One can only imagine what the priesthoods of the fouler gods are like at this moment. What we can do is supply you with information, safe houses, healing and magical assistance, weapons and armor we can commission for you and have built en-route by our artificers and finally we can get you close to your enemies. Close enough to slip a blade between their ribs.. if that'll even work."
The skeletal knight cringes at Merrick's words. You talk as though we're nothing but petty murderers. Our deeds are not to be so vulgar! This is, if anything, a glorious triumph that'll be sung from the heavens when the day is won! Merrick frowns at his compatriot. "I wish I had your boundless optimism, Osteorus." Osteorus shakes his head and replies, Despair is the first step on the road to disappointment. Remember; valor, integrity, righteousness and sacrifice. Even our comrades here, cursed as they are, would cast their lot into oblivion if it meant striking a blow against the enemy. Is it fear or courage that compels them? I think it be the latter of the two.
__________________ A tale set in the Grim Darkness of the 41st Millennium.
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[IC] The Meddlesome Kobolds
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