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Thread: (M) The Adventures of the mixed and messed up [IC]

  1. #11
    Salvation in Fantasy
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    Arapegol thought, that is too much noise out there for anything usual in a city. He put the rolled up maps he bought into the bag he carried, and then thought it well to grab the glowing orb within it. He would walk out prepared as well as he might be for what he sensed going on. His hand still holding it in the open bag he held, he went to the open door, looking. He saw right away so much going on. There were masked men running through the streets, their attention was mostly on a carriage further down, near that inn. One masked man had stopped, looking toward the female elf just now riding up to the travel supplies trading store he was going to leave. As the young elf got off from her mount Arapegol noted shrunken goblin heads hung down from the mane and one from the saddle horn. Clearly she was involved in special craft using magic. She was looking at him, so focused she was not aware of the masked man coming up from behind, he held a weapon up, Arapegol realized he was surely going to try knocking her off and take the mount for his own use, even with the shrunken heads. He pulled out the orb, waving it, with calling out, "Ingooreem Youeen Salabeem", and that threatening man almost upon her was cast out into a water trough far down that street. He waved it again, in a slightly different way, and called out again, in much the same way. The masked man now at the carriage shouting things there was cast into the water trough by the inn.

  2. #12
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    Caught up in her own preparations for her journey from Quardick toward the river crossing to the northern half of Dorona, Klara had noticed neither the traveling man exiting the inn shortly after her own departure nor the roguish fellow who had not properly introduced himself where he hid and watched the courtyard in the interest of both his bounty and her own safety. The Lady Dunderry's lands stretched from the eastern-most lake in Northern Dorona to the arid land of the desert that hosted the jagged Devil's Tail mountains. It was a considerable trek from the comfort of the great castle and its town that flourished along the coast, where the Mages' Tower gleamed at the entrance of the Royal Harbour, one of the most bustling ports-of-call the continents had to offer.

    Reining in her homesickness with a sigh, she glanced about again for her imp and thought she saw the flicker of a tail darting around a trough just before a party of masked brigands materialised around the courtyard. Warning shots cracked out and a flurry of activity began on the high road that ran through the little city - if one could really call it a city at all. Displeased with the damage to her primary means of conveyance as much as the prospect of having crossbows leveled at her, Klara pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze at the man who practically bubbled over with a list of demands. Her blood boiled a touch hotter with every word.

    "Good day,...? I'm sorry, I don't seem to have caught your name. There seems to be some confusion here, which I'm sure we can find a way to clear up... You must have mistak-" Before the sorceress could complete her sentence, shots rang out from the windows overlooking the courtyard and the street. As a body fell from the roof, she quickly flung open the door to the carriage and stepped inside, slamming it behind her and praying the bungling brigands kept outside for the moment. She had a trick or two up her sleeve, but as they'd not yet come to the crossroads she imagined most of her ritual work would be sloppy. The middle of a shooting match in the streets was hardly the ideal time to be dabbling in the arcane arts. Still, if needs must.

    Reaching under one of the seats, she pulled a polished box toward her and quickly plucked items from it, laying them out before her. Breathing out anxiously, she hazarded a glance from the carriage window into the street, seeing a woman on horseback before a masked figure flew backwards by her and a distant sound of splashing water and cracking wood traveled back to the courtyard. By the Dragon's Tooth, what is going on today? Has everyone gone mad? Shaking her head and turning back to her ritual, Klara selected a thin bone knife and cut away a single strand of her hair. She used it to bind the other items she had laid out together and when it was done she tucked the box away. What remained was a long, thin spine of the sort that could be collected from a particular type of shrew as they were shed. Impatiently she glanced back in the chaos of the courtyard behind her and snapped her fingers. Nothing happened.

    Livid that it took a second effort, Klara murmured, "If you do not come at once, Little Monster, I shall cut out that forked tongue and nail it to the Tree of Orien with silver and iron so that when you are bound into this world and summoned, you shall never speak again." With an emphatic snap of her fingers she dropped to the floor of the carriage a moment to avoid another stray shot. When she lifted herself, the little imp stood before her having decided it was in its interest to make an appearance. With a faint pop it had reappeared holding a squirming rat in its little claws. Gazing at her darkly as if it had hoped one of the musketballs might have found its mark, the little creature raked its claws deeply into the smaller creature and ripped out its heart. Placing the still-beating organ into Klara's hand, she nodded and thanked the imp before placing it over the intricate knots of the bound bundle in her hand and using the sharp spine to prick her finger. With the bloody spine, she pierced the heart. When the blood touched the talisman, a heartbeat pulsed loudly enough to be heard through the carriage. Placing it in the imp's mischievous hand she instructed it to place the bundle into the chest of the fallen man who had been shot from the roof of the inn - and to do it as quickly as it could. It was messy work, involving humans when Helmed Horrors were meant to be summoned into empty armour. Still, what was a corpse but an organic suit of leather? She winced a bit at the thought, but really who had the time to sort such a thing out in the middle of such a skirmish?

    The imp's sharp teeth gleamed with glee and its cold eyes glittered as it leapt from the carriage window, tail flicking merrily as it went to do its mistress's bidding. Klara on the other hand, fumbled for the small decorative knife on the seat of the carriage with her books and papers and cracked open the door facing the doors of the inn carefully to see how things were faring, and whether her little creature could complete its task as instructed.

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

  3. #13
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    The man before her raised an orb, and a man coming up behind her was flung a great distance

    She frowned as she took in the scene behind her. Weird. Usually people were screaming at her. Civilization, it seemed, had many rules. Men were brandishing crossbows at a carriage.

    "What is happening?" Nasa demanded of Uidegá.
    "Just that most normal of civilized behavior - a robbery," the goblin head replied, amused.
    "So I can act?"
    "Normal people run away. Right, right - you're not normal. Well, I guess you gotta do somethin' about it."

    Still, it would not make a good impresson to burn the men where they stood. Pointing her finger at one of the men, she ordered, "Ätysèn!"

    His shadow thickened, grabbing him, pulling him back, trying to pull him into itself.

    "Whata about da rest of dem?" The goblin head grinned.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  4. #14
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    The imp did it's job with unfettered glee. Must have been the prospect of raising the dead.
    Bullets and crossbow bolts flew at it from all side, but it managed to evade them through demonic reflexes or short range teleportation.
    It managed to reach there and manically shoved the small, beating heart into the corpse of the dead man and it rose with a groan and the small imp tried to laugh maniacally, but started to silently cures again since he still had not regained his ability to speak.

    And upon seeing his mean flung about, and an imp that raised one of his own, Deveris pulled out a small round amulet and shoved it out in front of him as it let out a shock wave that forced everyone but him off their feet.
    The amulet was attached to some gold chain, was about the size of the man's palm and was a large ruby set in a ring large disc of gold with odd symbols inlaid in it.
    He grinned at the effect and brandished a newly loaded crossbow.
    "now, if you got all the fighting out, I hold in my hands an amulet of wonders." he declared. "you have just seen one of the things it can do, and I know it can do more. so unless you want to see first hand the mass destruction it can cause, I suggest you give us what we came for, and get out of the way."

    Jaydeen cursed as he sat back up. a rock that had broken loose from the shock wave had cut his cheek and he was bleeding a little bit.
    His target had something rather large in his hands, and as the man spoke it became a bit more clear. He really needed a clean shot.
    reloading his musket would take too long, so he pulled out one of his still loaded pistols and leveled it at the thing in the man's hand and shot.

    The bullet hit the the item, sending a nasty shock through the man's hand making him drop the item. and in swift motion, he just managed to pull his second pistol and let off another shot before the item hit the ground and shattered. The man stumbled and gasped before falling over.

    everything seemed to shift and spin.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  5. #15
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    Gasha had walked many miles to reach the bustling city by early morning. She had fled the comfort of her small hut in the woods to sell her killed hunts. This was a day she always dreaded. Her half-orc noise picked up all the scents from the gathering crowd as people made their way into and out of the city gate. She hated being around large crowds, but she had to make a profit. It was hard to live off the land without money. Not to mention the King's guards always stopping by because she had to pay taxes. This was her only way to make a living. So the towering hulk of a woman kept her eyes down as she held onto her old gnarled staff with her bag of meat to sell slung over her back.

    It was not long before someone bumped into her as she made her way toward the market. She stayed silent but dare not move forward. Sweat began to form above her brow.
    "Ey' watch where you're going!" A muscled street urchin said as he cracked his knuckles, sizing her up and down. "You think cause your a bumbling oaf with muscles you can pick on anyone?"

    Everyone always pointed out her size. She never knew why. The green skin probably didn't help either. Just because she was half orc did not mean she was a killing machine or always looking for trouble, but for some reason trouble always found her. People either tried to pick fights with her or hire her as muscles. But they always got it wrong. Gasha just liked to keep to herself and keep her head down.

    "I..I'm sssorrry..", she stammered as she clutched onto her staff harder. She did not want to fight. People always seemed to push her to boil the orc blood within her. Most of the time she just wanted peace. "I just want to get to the market."

    "Oh look it can speak! And it has manners. Well if you really feel so bad give me that sack and we can call it even."
    "Nnno..." she tried to sputter out.
    "I said give it!" The man grabbed for her sack and as he did Gasha in response lifted her hand and acidic poison spray shot forth. her druidcraft kicking in to protect her, even though she did not mean to.
    As the spray hit the man's face his flesh began to melt a little and he let out a blood curdling scream.

    The only thing Gasha could think to do was to run. So she did. Her long muscular legs carrying her away from the situation into another unfortuante event happening, or so it seemed. Gasha came out from an alley to see a roberry taking place. This was just not the day for her. This city was getting more and more dangerous. She saw just in time as a man shot a necklace another man was holding. Then a big pulsation of energy swpet through the air, hitting her right in the chest. The next thing she knew her head felt light and everything began to spin. Reality split and bent and everything went black...
    Last edited by Moonlit_Fae; 10-31-2020 at 02:28 PM.

  6. #16
    Salvation in Fantasy
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    Arapegol said to the young elf lady there using her magic ability, "Very good job. Whoever is in the carriage would need help. Excuse me." He went quickly a ways closer. There! He saw another water trough, before what appeared to be a brothel further on. He moved the orb of teleportation again, called out in much the same way, and another masked man who held up a crossbow to shoot at the carriage was teleported into that last trough. Arapegol was then looking around quickly. There was no other trough in sight. Where else would be good to teleport any of the three masked men still there? He was questioning whether he should just take out from the bag he was carrying the rod with the glowing tip to use on any of them, when there as a sudden jolt, everything shook, and he was knocked to the ground, like many around there were. What in the name of the great god was that?

  7. #17
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    Blind to the magical mayhem in the streets behind her, Klara watched through the thin gap she had opened in the carriage door as the imp completed its task with more relish than was necessary. When it threw its head back maniacally, she knew the eerie sound it intended despite what would be laughable silence if it were not unfortunately in the middle of wider fighting. 'Little Monster', indeed. Its discomfiture when it remembered its temporary muteness made her smirk as it cursed and stomped a small foot in annoyance. Her amusement was to be short-lived.

    She opened the carriage door, lowering a foot toward the ground as her mind raced. She needed to get to the newly mobile and flailing corpse to establish full control of the ritual still not yet fully completed. Though Klara had hoped to make a dash through the fighting and musketfire, when Deveris flashed an amulet her eyes snapped to it immediately. Lips parting, she lifted a hand towards him before his shock wave swept her back as the others fell or were thrown back also. Her proximity did her no favours and she found herself flung back into the carriage with such force that she bumped her head on the opposite door hard enough to break the latch that held it closed. It opened and she half-slumped towards the street beyond the inn's courtyard now in hazy focus and entirely upside down. The elf who had been astride a horse and the traveling man seemed to have been hit by the wave also. The green outline of what appeared to be an orcish woman swam in and out of her vision.

    Flexing her jaw to ease the ringing in her ears, she grabbed the door frame weakly and tried to right herself. The sky revolved too quickly with the remnants of musket smoke and the rich lining of the carriage's inner roof seemed out of place in the upside-down world that spun around her. The ringing seemed to grow sharper rather than ease, punctuated by more firing and a metallic clatter that seemed far away now. A wave of nausea washed over her as the world tilted. Her mind pushed back against the black creeping along the edge of her vision angrily. This was not the beginning she had hoped for her legacy. Between her nearness to the shock wave and the knock to the head, the black fog finally won and she lost consciousness, the little knife bearing her family's crest slipping from her fingers onto the paving stones of the courtyard.

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

  8. #18
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    Nasa stared after the human as he headed towards the carriage. The Moon-Walker's hand rose up, paused, then back to her side.

    "Ya know," Uidegá sighed, hanging still from the saddle horn, "Whatever ya traded for dem words ya got, ya got robbed. Hope ya can get it back."

    Nasa turned to glare angrily at the shrunken head as the others tied to the horse's mane began chuckling, then turned sulky to stare after the man's back. He was right, loathed as she was to admit it. She never dreamed that she would leave the northlands, leaving the trading to the chief and the others. Now she was among these southerners and their eyes would glaze over when she started talking. Worse, even other elves she'd encountered acted as if she sprouted another head!

    Uidegá did speak their language, surprising for a goblin, and had been translating for her while she listened to his thoughts, but even he ran into problems with some of her words. Not to mention the strained looks the listeners would have, glancing between her and Uidegá as if they were afraid she'd do the same to them.

    Admittedly, there were a few times she was tempted to.

    She took a step after Arapego, perhaps the human could....

    Nasa screamed as unseen waves assailed her, driving her to her knees as she grabbed her head. She heard the shreaks from the goblin heads as well.

    "Ùtoën! Etgën ùtoën foën eádhën!" she wailed before the darkness swallowed her.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  9. #19
    Wolf of the Highlands
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    Jaydeen soon came to, but he was on the ground several yards away from where he was last. And everything felt off.
    Already people began to stir and look around, scratching their heads, feelings themselves. It wasn't long until someone screamed.
    And then he looked down at himself. His once tall, ragged body was replaced with that of a short, armored woman.
    He instantly grew pail and shakily stood up as he-she felt for any weapons on her and pulled out a sword.
    She shakily walked over to the now, rather tall man she recognized as Deveris to make sure he was dead.
    Poking him a few times with the sword, then feeling for a pulls, decided he was.

    Once done, he looked around for his body, still sitting where he left it. He almost smiled at the thought before walking over to himself (he was getting annoyed at the hilarity of the situation).
    He put away his new sword and offered himself a hand.
    "come on, get up, we got stuff to figure out and a bunch of robbers to round up." He said in his new, feminine voice. "also, you might like to know that's my body you're in."
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  10. #20
    Salvation in Fantasy
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    The trained alteration rod and teleportation orb user came to, from somehow being unconscious. How did that happen? He had cast teleportation from the orb at one of the crossbow bearing robbers, and was thinking of reaching for the rod in the bag. Oh, how his head hurt. But why? Where was his bag? Where was his orb?! Where is everything where he was? Trying to figure it out, it seemed to be that his head hung out unsupported from something. There were sights of the city he had been seeing, from a very different angle. This was so disconcerting. It could not be explained. Carefully searching with hands, that seemed now to be much more sensitive, support was found. With getting back up, more was realized. This is not the body that he had. This is, oh my, it is the inside of a luxurious carriage. But there were a couple of holes in it. And this was not his body! "What in the great god's name is this? It is, it is a woman's body! No, oh no, oh no! This can't be! My body is gone! I have a woman's body! But how? And it is really hurt! How did this happen?"

    He, or she.... they painfully moved upright to look about the carriage. It is the carriage that was being attacked. "They" quickly reached to pull at the door hanging open to pull it closed, the attack was possibly still continuing. There was a small knife laying right out there, they picked it up. But there, it did not latch shut. Carefully they worked across to the other side, which had been left open. No one else was in this carriage, it must have been just for this woman. With a quick glance out before shutting that side, they saw a small figure laying on the ground, inert. It was a fiendish imp! Arapegol had seen that imp, with that woman who had left, when he was at the bar. This body must be that of that woman! Other people out there were starting to sit up, with puzzled expressions.
    Last edited by GodlyD&D; 11-02-2020 at 02:21 AM.

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