The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – Now playing

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Kinslayer
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Post by Kinslayer »

Kairus was still wondering how summoning the amber spear of Kurnous the great hunter himself showed less combat potential than simply hacking at one another with a sword. Still, it seemed the iron tyrant had decided the best combatants were simply those more capable of swinging a sword, despite the event apparently being a test of their magic capabilities. He was in the pit again, along with his earlier opponent Marcelus, and their puppet creations, Ghurk and Karl. He was still fuming with absolute rage from Marcelus' low blow against him earlier that day, though he had forced himself not to react at the time, now he had the oppertunity to make the Fire Mage pay. He would make him pay with his life.

If you wanted a magicless fist fight, iron tyrant, you should have said so. But nevermind... I will bloody well give you it now.


Kairus immediately turned his attention on loosening his bonds, and once he had untied his hands he would remove his gag and quickly untie Ghurk as well.

He will keep an eye on Marcelus at all times, just in case the Fire Mage is coming towards him or summoning a spell.

Once free, he will make his way across the slippery spur on all fours, like a prowling wolf, with Ghurk in front of him as a meat (well, feather) shield.

If he reached Marcelus, Kairus will use his superior dexterity to outmanoevere the other Mage in a fist fight. He will throttle / punch him to death.
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Post by Red... »

Metarchis smiled as he heard the results read out. He had held little doubt as to the outcome - his enchanting lady friend had more than held her own against her zombified opponent - and the crowd had loved every moment of it. He had, though, noted down a couple of faces in the crowd that had been watching her just a little too closely for his liking.

She is mine alone. Anyone who dares to think otherwise will quickly find themselves...re-educated.

He spent the remainder of the evening with Helleryia, relaxing in the shade outside his hut. The sun was shining more than usual and after several days of determined chilliness, it felt almost warm enough to enjoy the evening air. Across the way, he could see Kaladeth sitting with her deformed puppet, and he stared at them with a kind of hostile respect. Her bizarre creation had been easily bested by his love, but it had at least put up some kind of fight. Not like the pitiful displays of cowardly evasion and fighting from an afar that he had witnessed in the second fighting area (they had started so late that Helleryia's own fight had already been won and he had been able to watch them duel - if you could call edging around their own sides of the arena 'duelling').

He stroked Helleryia's dark red hair and pondered to himself. He could hear her nattering excitedly about something or other, but he found himself only half listening. It dawned on him slowly that he was through to the final three. Only two more contestants to best and then the competition was his. He would be able to leave this accursed island with its wind swept beaches and frost bitten tundras and seek out warmer and more pleasurable destinations. He found himself day dreaming about launching a raid into the jungles of Lustria, fighting and looting hand in hand with his newly found love. The two of them could return home with wagons of booty, or even carve out a new kingdom for themselves amongst the primitives that dwelled inside that tropical region.

Even as he day dreamed, he kept a vigilant eye on Kaladeth to ensure that she did not attempt any foolish trickery.
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Post by Smiler666 »

Marcelus scowled at the results of the days contest, he had been robbed by the cowardly harpoon-shooting beast mage and Marcelus was feeling much better about having planted his boot in the man's nads. As he was bundled up by the guards and shepherded to the fabled pit that he had heard so much about, but had managed to avoid so far, he formed a cunning plan.

Now they were both in the pit, with Karl lighting the place up nicely, so he could see the Ghuranist's rage-filled glare as he scrambled to undo is wrists and those of his freak accomplice, and he could tell exactly what was going through the man's mind: he was somewhat aggravated by the bruising on his manhood, both literally and metaphorically. And that was something that Marcelus could use to his advantage. Just to make sure that the point sunk in. so to speak Marcelus called across to the beast mage, "you decided to start singing soprano yet, friend?!" As he called out he set about untying hisself and Karl.

Once Marcelus was loose he would match Karius and crouch-walk toward him with the bumbling Karl in front, poor lad probably thinks he's about to get a hug. The forest-dweller had size and reach on his side but it looked as though the island's challenges had taken thier toll on him, plus he was stupid and mad so he would be easy to trick and outmanoeuvre him.

This would be interesting.
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Post by Calisson »

As they were walking to the pit, the gag on his mouth prevented Marcelus to taunt Kairus with all the nice things he wished to tell.
Never mind, he would do it post-mortem (whoever's death).

-=-=-

In the cave, after they were left by the guards on the spur, Marcelus realized that taking bonds off could take forever (i.e. longer than for his opponent).
He decided to get closer first and take advantage of a proximity situation.
He managed to take the flaming mace with his bounded hands.
Next, he proceeded on to crouch as he could towards Kairus and Ghurk.

Meanwhile, Kairus was concentrating on his bonds.
He had prepared a spell of strength and wanted to cast it after freeing himself.
Only after Marcelus had passed half of the distance did Kairus realize that Ghurk was showing nervousness because of the closing fire.
He would never been able to get his bonds off and cast his spell.
He changed his mind and decided to cast the spell in a hurry, for a very short time, but time was so short.
Of course, casting a spell when you cannot talk or whisper, your hands are tied up and you're straddling a nervous scarecrow is not the easiest thing to do.
It failed, re-failed and failed again. Kairus could feel the diverse side effects melting in his mind.

Ghurk was getting more nervous and had nowhere to flee behind him!
When he realized that his master was dramatically failing his attempts to solve the situation, he took the initiative:
Panicked, Ghurk jumped to safety, away from the fire, into the dark pond of salt water.

Splash!

-=-=-

Once again, Kairus felt the cold water on his body - and this time, it was Ghurk who was protected by the breastplate.
That spell HAD to be cast. Once more, Kairus tried desperately.
The ultimate casting attempt yield results. Finally, Kairus could feel the strength of the Bear flowing into his veins.
The rage boiling in him, he managed to explode his bonds off his arms. He took his gag off.
He was free. In the water, but free.
Beside him, Ghurk had trouble to swim, but he could hold its breath for ages.

On the spur, two similing faces were to be seen, lit by the flickering flaming mace: Marcelus and Karl.




<OOC.
Marcelus has not started to untie his bonds. Karl is still attached to his back.
Marcelus holds the flaming mace in his hand. A mace and a buckler are left on the spur, next to them.

Kairus is swimming, free of bonds and gag. The extra strength is gone (it was cast for a very short duration).
Ghurk is swimming as he can, still attached. He has a good buoyancy. He fears not the coldness of the ocean.
Carry on!>IC
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Smiler666 »

OOC: I assume that Marcelus not doing as he (I) planned to do had something to do with not being allowed to use Karl as my own personal holy hand grenade? Oh well, at least it turned out good for me

IC: Marcelus gave what approximated as a cheer through his gag and even Karl joined in, though he doubted the poor lad actually knew what he was cheering for. However Marcelus could just about make out the Ghuranist on the surface of the water below the rock and knew that this was far from over, gathering up his strength and whatever winds inhabited this liquid-filled, cold, dark pit he stiffened stock-still and entered a state of utter cataplexy for just a moment then a ball of flame appeared before him and shot off into the gloom below where the beast mage struggled in the waters. Nothing personal, friend
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Post by Kinslayer »

Kairus roared in anger as he called to Kurnous but found himself unanswered, the power of the bear not flooding into his veins as it had done before. He tried again, and still nothing happened. Perhaps the holy hunter is testing me, or punishing me for stating I would only use my fists? He tried again, and with a howl of beastial fury he felt his prayers answered and tore his hands free from his bonds. By then, however, it was too little too late. Marcelus and Karl were across the spur now, and Ghurk fled from their fire and dragged his master down with him.

The Beast Mage splashed into the water, no longer protected by his enchanted breastplate and feeling the strength of the bear leave his arms. He could see Marcelus conjuring up a fireball on the spur as well, a missile that would no doubt be hurled his way at any moment. Damnit Ghurk, you're on your own now! Maybe that seal will come back to save you. If not I hope you bloody well drown. He left the scarecrow where it struggled in the water, flopping and splashing about somewhat like a bird trapped in water would do whilst trying to take flight again.

You may have the advantage of the high ground Marcelus, but I have one advantage over you too... The water is not your friend.


As soon as Kairus sees the fireball he will take a deep breath and plunge himself under the water. (I'm guessing fire spells can't go down there...)
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Post by Calisson »

Fifth night, in The Pit (continued).

His opponent was sent overboard. A good thing, but Marcelus knew it was not enough.
He concentrated on a fireball, the easiest spell to cast.
However, being bonded and gagged was really hampering. He sighed in relief as the magnificent ball departed and was hurled at the pond.

-=-=-

As Kairus was looking around, trying to figure out his odds, he saw the fireball coming and had barely enough time to get his head below the surface.
The fireball was a tiny one, meant for a single victim.
Ghurk was on the receiving end. Fortunately for him, his master had provided him a magic breastplate which deflected all effects.

-=-=-

His opponent was sent below the surface. A good thing, but Marcelus knew he had to do more.
He prepared a spell that his opponent would not been able to escape: flaming the whole surface of the pond.
However, this spell was much less easy than the previous one. Impeded as he was, the rookie Fire mage should never have tried that. Not only was it difficult to cast, but every attempt would come at a terrible price, a price that one would consent only in cases of life and death – like this night.
He tried nevertheless.
The first time, it failed. The strain severed Marcelus mental health. Even Karl was so close that he was affected in a similar way. He kept his smile out of a habit, but there was no longer intent behind.

A second attempt failed miserably. Marcelus had been so severed by the first miscast that he had summoned way too much energy. The whole cave spiraled in a huge blast, and all its occupants felt the effects. Their agility would be permanently affected forever by such a terrible explosion in such a confined room.

Way above, the guards were astonished to see how high would be projected the stone closing the pit.

On the third attempt, it worked, at least. The whole surface of the pond was covered with flames.
A similar blast as before shocked the whole cave, hurting badly all the occupants in their strength.
Alas, the spell was so difficult to cast that it was short lived, and lasted only a few seconds. Would that suffice?

-=-=-

Ghurk was still floating on the surface when a flood of flame filled in the pound.
Not even his breastplate sufficed to protect him, and he was severely wounded with the flames.
Only rolling over in the water prevented the body (and his bonds) to take fire. Fortunately for him, these wounds were magical wounds, the kind which don’t last.

-=-=-

Meanwhile, Kairus had avoided to surface again and take his breath.
Despite the hard conditions found below water, he had managed to transform his head into a sea dragon, easily breathing under the water.
As he was swimming towards the spur, he saw the whole surface taking fire for a few seconds.
He blessed his transformation which made him immune to such danger.

Once he arrived close to the spur, he swallowed a few gallons.
Suddenly, he surfaced and spat his water at his enemy. Not used to this breath weapon, he did not hit.

-=-=-

Marcelus doubted that his foe would accept that soon his defeat. Casting spells with bonds and gag was too difficult, it was high time he took them off. At least, his fireworks seemed to have frightened the Beast mage enough to provide him some time.
He took the flaming mace and started to burn his bonds.

Suddenly, a dragon emerged from the pond and threw floods of water at him. The spur was soaked, but the mace was not hit.
Worried that the dragon could come again, Marcelus finished to burn his bonds off and took his gag away. As he was freeing Karl, he inspected the pond. Kairus – or the dragon – were nowhere to be seen.

-=-=-

Kairus laughed below water after seeing the astonished bald face of the Fire mage. Too bad that Kairus was not proficient enough with the splash weapon.
Now was time to get back on the spur.
After searching for a minute or two, Kairus found a convenient rock, which allowed him to accede to the middle of the spur.



<OOC

South:
Marcelus is free. Karl is free, he has the enchanted amulet.
Marcelus: WS4 - S3 - T3 – D1 – I4. (lost D & I & S by miscast).
Karl the zombie: Heavily wounded (-1 to all stats till midnight): WS1, S2, T1, D-1, I0 (it is still under the effect of the kindleflame-ish spell for WS & I, has lost D & I & S by miscast - with I=0, he understands nothing).
Weapons (on the floor): flaming mace, normal mace, 2 bucklers.

Middle spur: Kairus is free.
Kairus: WS3 - S2 - T2 – D2 - I4. He has lost D & S because of Marcelus’ miscast.

In the pond:
Ghurk floats. He has the enchanted breastplate.

Ghurk the scarecrow: WS2, S0, T3, D0, I2. He has lost S & D because of Marcelus’ miscast. With S=D=0, he cannot get back on the spur by himself.


Carry on!>IC
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Kinslayer »

Kairus clambered back to land, dripping watery puddles with every step from his long feather cloak and drenched, long black braided hair. His head turned back to normal as he returned to the surface this time, letting the magical visage of a sea wyrm fade away. He was suprised the transformation had worked, but it had taken his last component and the Fire Mage had hurt him badly in return, slowing his limbs with burns. Now he felt like he was running out of tricks, and that thought made him bare his teeth like fangs.

A beast is most dangerous when it is cornered and running out of options. That is when they strike with raw power to fight to survive.

Kairus took one squelching step after another towards Marcelus and Karl, leaving Ghurk out in the water to burn and drown, to maybe be saved by a seal. The scarecrow had dragged him into the water and nearly cost him his life, he wasn't about to throw himself back in and risk it all over again just to save his little creation. Likewise, he ignored the rather charred looking form of Karl that stood with his master just across the spur. The dim witted zombie would pose him no threat, and if it tried to get in his way he would just kick it from the spur.

I'm getting tired of this Mage and his firework antics now. Time to put out his flame once and for all...

Kairus will stomp over to Marcelus and begin butchering and dismembering him by hand. The strength of the bear might help with this somewhat.
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Post by Red... »

Metarchis sat and twiddled his thumbs. Beside him Helleryia was babbling still. He found the sound of her beautiful voice soothing, as long as he didn't try to follow too much of what she was actually talking about.

He noted, with a glance at the sky, that the sun had set far deeper than it usually fell before the outcome of a pit duel was complete. From the direction of the pit he could hear a weird and wonderful cacophony of sounds - great whoosing noises, crackling and popping, splashing waters and animal like roars. The ground itself shook on several occasions.

He stretched his legs out and enjoyed the relaxed ambience of the moment. What an ironic and delightful contrast, he thought, as he basked in the cool evening air, between the relaxation he was enjoying up here in the village, and the terrible, titanic struggle for life and death that must be going on in the pit below.

He looked down at his skin and paused.

Is that a freckle? Man, I wish I'd remembered to pack my sun cream.
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Post by Smiler666 »

It had all gone to hell in a matter of seconds. He had been ambitious, that much was clear, probably no, definitely too ambitious and it had cost him. Marcelus had felt the magical feedback as the barrage of explosions had filled the pit and all the good it had done was set that good for nothing scarecrow alight. At least the beastmage is dead, or ut woul- Almost as if the giant mage had read his thoughts a drake-headed man wearing a charred feather cloak span ou of the water and hosed the entire spur with water.

Thankfully very little had hit Marcelus, and so shrugging off the weary calm that had been setting in over him, he quickly flicked the flaming mace around behind hisself and burnt loose his bonds. By the time he and Karl were free Marcelus could hear the wet slaps of Karius climbing back up to the spur, he was too exhausted to try casting another spell so he turned to Karl and ordered the once-man forward, it just stood there grinning so Marcelus booted it off the edge of the spur - it would only get in the way as it was. Holding the flaming mace out before him in a double handed grip Marcelus advanced toward the soggy Ghuranist just as he was approaching Marcelus.

Marcelus will attempt to beat Karius down in a straight-up fight, may the best druchii win
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Post by Calisson »

Fifth night, in The Pit (end)

This was the ultimate streetfight, for one of the fighters.
Marcelus walked resolutely towards Kairus, carrying the flaming mace still burning.
Kairus called for the last influx of beast strength, and once more, felt the animal rage boiling in his veins. But the process had become very tiresome.

As he was readying his mace, Marcelus called on the power of the amulet he had recovered from Karl.
Suddenly, Kairus became a living torch and burned horribly.

Marcelus made the first stike, but hesitating to blow what seemed now to be a Creature of Flames, he missed.
Kairus had the force of the bear, but probably also the beast's reluctance to fight fire. He missed all his attacks.

The fight had to end. While Kairus encountered no more success with his many attacks, Marcelus did find a way for his mace and managed to strike at his opponent.

That was the end for Kairus. His body fell flat on the spur.
Marcelus hit again and again the burning body. Only when he was confident that his foe would not move anymore, ever, did he cease to harass the corpse, now burnt to coal.

Looking around, Marcelus realized that Karl had sunk in the dark pound.
His smile would welcome fishes hurrying to feed from his flesh.
Ghurk was still floating.
Marcelus kicked the body of Kairus towards his creation. That extinguished the fading flames, and the body went into the ocean.

-=-=-

It was midnight. The mace's flames vanished.

-=-=-

In the early morning, a rope was sent.
Asked about his zombie, Marcelus replied: Drowned
A team of guards was sent down.
They brought back Ghurk, still alive although barely able to stand up by himself.
You can use this one.
Ghurk would never obey, but could not disobey either. That could work for idle tasks.
Last edited by Calisson on Wed Dec 07, 2011 10:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Calisson »

The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – Sixth challenge

Now they were only three.

Or was it two and half? Marcelus ordeal in the pit had taken a heavy toll on the Fire apprentice. Summoning Aqshy beyond limits, facing death, losing his creature, the cumulated night’s events showed heavily on his face.
Strangely, he was now in company with the scarecrow. Ghurk had still a weird cunning eye, but now was as still as a real scarecrow. He was showing burning marks all over.

The comparison with relaxed Metarchis and his gracious female companion was striking.
Kaladeth was alone. Her zombie Rast, deactivated at midnight as usual, was stocked in one of the many empty shacks.


When Kaleth arrived, he was eagerly interested in the fighting value of the remaining Candidates.
Today’s task will be to demonstrate how your talents can be used at distance.
Each Candidate would make a team with his or her companion.
One member of the team would hold a target. The other one had to hit the target, with a missile or a magic missile.
The Candidates could use their own missile weapon or borrow a bow or a crossbow.

There were plenty of targets available.
The largest targets were very large shields, hardened with steel, behind which one man could be fully sheltered.
Smaller targets were the bucklers. They would provide a parrying benefit to whoever would hold them, but a majority of the body would be unprotected.
The hardest targets were in a fruit basket. The slave holding it had one apple on his head, suggesting that highly confident shooters could be trusted to aim at the fruit.

Practice during the day. The competition will start one hour before sunset.
Take whichever target you feel will demonstrate best your ability at distance.
Shoot as far as you dare. Make as many attempts as you wish. Be convincing.




<OOC
In your post, describe your action for the day (1 spell with a long preparation, no time to retry failed attempt - one regular spell +0: 5+1 min, cast up to 3 times). Describe the target you pick up and who takes it, which weapon you use. Tell which distance you select. Describe your first shot and what you do if it fails to hit.
After you see what your opponents are doing, you can post again with another try.

-=-=-

Mundane weapon shooting: D test.
Normal range: Bow: 24 yards. Xbow: 30 yards.
Shooting at more than range: +2; at range: +1; at ½ range: +0; at ¼ range: -1.
Large target: no mod. Miss: no consequence.
Small target: +1. Miss by 1: holder hit instead, can try to parry (6+) or to escape (D test at -2).
Apple: +2. Miss by 1 or 2: holder hit instead, can try to escape (D test at -2).

-=-=-

Magic missile:
Range (D.) is breath, or visual, or known place. If the distance is more than indicated in GW RB, then the spell is likely to be more difficult to cast.
Accuracy (C.) is whole body, or accurate.
If roll is 1, epic fail, the body behind the target is hit – and allowed a resistance test (I test).
If the distance was more than 24 yards, 1 or 2 is epic fail.
More than 48 yards, 1, 2 or 3 is epic fail.

-=-=-

This is Saturday, a bad day for Kaladeth.
Like the previous day, the time of last post/edit/PM will serve to untie, at the end of the pit-polling process.

Marcelus: WS4 - S3 - T3 – D1 – I4. IIRC, he is still wounded from the West quest.
Ghurk: WS2, S0, T3, D0, I2. Lack of trust, fear of fire.

Metarchis : WS4, S2, T3, D4, I5.
Helleryia : WS2, S1, T1, D2, I3.

Kaladeth: WS3, S3, T3, D4, I5.
Rast: WS1, S4, T2, D1, I1 – wounded and deactivated.

Carry on! >IC.
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Post by Red... »

Metarchis and Helleyria turned to each other and grinned as they heard the task being read out. Silverjaw was going to let them recreate their first date! Metarchis remembered happily about how he had watched the beautiful slave girl smiling coyly at him as he hurled his axe at her chest, and how she had shyly batted her eyelids as the blade bounced off his newly created Bloodshield of Khaine.

Metarchis hoisted a bow and a buckler from the table and motioned for Helleryia to follow him. She was chatting amiably again, and he smiled as he listened to her babble freely about the weather and her hair and her hometown and a litany of other cheery but mundane topics of passing interest. They set out again for the Cauldron of Blood - not so much to benefit from it's magical properties (although if any were forthcoming, they'd obviously not say no) but more for the space and privacy it would allow them as they prepared for today's task.

Upon arriving at the Cauldron area, Metarchis set about their preparations. He cut off the bow string from the bow with his knife and tied it onto either edge of the top of his Bloodshield. He then looped it around Helleryia's neck, so that the Bloodshield hung helpfully in front of her chest and stomach, shielding those areas from attack. He then handed her the buckler, which she took into her hand.

With this done, he then set about re-leading her into the Dance of Doom, hoping that if she could remember once again how to perform this mighty sequence then she would be able to dodge the blow of his attack more easily if something went astray. Today he focused more on the evasion side of the dance, encouraging her to work on springing upwards with her legs and dancing nimbly out of the way of any incoming weapons. He spent some time leading her in this effort.

<OOC:
Spell: Dance of Doom.
Target: Helleryia.
Intended effect: Provide Helleryia with the speed and agility to dodge my attack if it is going to hit her.
Duration: Until midnight.
Notes: This is my long spell:>. IC:

Once he felt that Helleryia had picked up the essential dancing movements enough to be able to practice by herself, Metarchis then set about practicing his own magickery for the day. Recognising that this was a magic contest and that he would gain little favour from the audience or the judges by using a mundane weapon, he gave some thought to what approach he should take. Then suddenly it dawned on him and he grinned wryly to himself. Back during his apprenticing in the Halls of Khaine he had often been tasked with running errands within the archives there - collecting scrolls for the Torturers, Assassins and Hag Queens. These had been tasks that the other apprentices had hated, but Metarchis had enjoyed with a great passion. He had often rummaged through the scrolls himself, devouring with his mind the knowledge inside.

Within one particularly crumbed and aged tomb, he had made a finding which had excited him to the very core of his being. He had spent nights remembering the spidery words written within that book, although he had never before tried to use them for any reason. Now he knew why Khaine had helped him to stumble across that venerable old manual, and he set about practicing the spell he had encountered.

Standing facing away from Helleryia, he threw his arms up in the air and uttered a series of words. They were elven in nature, but sounded archaic as he intoned them, showing that they had first been written many millenia ago, possibly before the time that the Druchii had split from their soft minded Asur breathren. He enuciated each word so precisely that he could almost taste the individual vowels and constantants as they tumbled from his lips. Finally, he ended the spell with a mighty scream:

Unleash the Dread Might of Khaine!

<OOC:
Spell: Fury of Khaine (High Elf version).
Target: A rock identified as roughly 24 yards away.
Intended effect: Launch a searing bolt of brilliant white energy at the rock (magic missile).
Duration: About 6 seconds.
Note: This is my regular spell.> IC:

Metarchis tried to cast the spell a further two times, before deciding that he had practiced enough and decided to call it a day. <OOC: I'm hoping that my practicing this spell will increase my familiarity enough to make it more castable>. IC:

Returning to the village, Metarchis and Helleryia made ready for the task. He recognised that he had more of a balancing act to achieve than the others - he wanted to impress the judges and the crowd of course, but equally was keen not to take too big a risk of harming his newly found love. Accordingly he indicated to the judges that they had decided upon the small buckler as a defence, from a range of 24 yards.

Helleryia stood up against the tree, the buckler held in one hand, the Bloodshield tied around her neck. Metarchis then strode back to the 24 yard line and began to cast his spell, once again intoning the ancient words and weaving his arms in the air, in the same way that he had practised doing three times earlier that day. As he did, Helleryia began a gentle moving of her legs and arms, beginning her Dance of Doom. Finally, he uttered once more the casting words of the spell -Unleash the Dread Might of Khaine!- and hurled the bright white bolt of light at his most beautifu love. They had both done what they could to pass the test, now only Khaine would decide whether they were to be united forever in life or to be torn tragically apart through death.

<OOC:
Spell: Fury of Khaine (High Elf Version).
Target: The buckler in Helleryia's hand.
Intended effect: Launch a magic missile that hits the buckler in Helleryia's hand and is harmlessly deflected as a result.
Duration: About 6 seconds.
Note: Helleryia will also be carrying out her (hopefully) previously cast dance of doom at this time and the Bloodshield should also activate in case it is needed to protect her instead.> IC:

Metarchis tries to cast the spell again and again until either he is successful at hitting the buckler, he accidentally hits and wounds Helleryia, or the side effects become overwhelming.
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Post by Smiler666 »

Marcelus was absolutely spent, the battle in the pit had taken almost everything he had out of him and he had had very little opportunity to get any rest during what was left of the night. Nevertheless when their less-gracious-by-the-day host announced the task Marcelus managed a small smile, this much more than anything so far was right up his proverbial alley and he was confident he would get a decent nights rest tonight, it would also help that he was probably a lot happier to miss his 'target' than any of the others.

Shoving the unhelpful scarecrow ahead of him Marcelus returned to his glass-fire altar and set about an incantation that would hopefully pep him up a bit ready for the afternoon's challenge, he sat amongst the waves of frozen flame and remained perfectly still, he hadn't forgotten the unfortunate outcomes of his last attempt to rush a spell. When the sun was a little ways over the yard arm Marcelus stiffened in place and his mouth began moving silently chanting out incantations through his cataplexy.

Long spell: miscast fixing
Target: Marcelus
Duration: presumeably once cast it lasts forever? If not then just a day will do
Distance: really quite close ;)
Notes: last firefly used, sanctified place
Intended affect: heal everything that has happened to Marcelus so far, order of importance=miscasts>wounds>baldness

Feeling much better (or not as the case may be) Marcelus dragged the uncooperative Ghurk back to the proving grounds, picking up a long, sturdy stick on the way there. Once he was at the field that was being used as a makeshift firing range he took the stick and jabbed it hard into Ghurk's feather-filled innards, using it to mount the birdbrain in place while Marcelus went to fetch a particularly small apple and place it in the late beast mage's companion's mouth. Taking up a position about thirty yards from the spitted scarecrow Marcelus prepared a spell which he knew almost by heart

Spell: 2nd tier fireball
Target: the apple, however the fireball will be much larger than the apple - large enough that Marcelus could miss by a fair amount and still burn the apple (and a lot of poor Ghurk)
Duration: 6 secs
Distance: 30 yards (max range)
Intended affect: boom
Marcelus will recast as many times as possible till either Ghurk is too cooked to hold the apple or he hits
Opus vos liberaverit
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Post by Malus99 »

Kaladeth idly contemplated the consequences of shredding Rast into a dozen small pieces as she began to prepare the reanimating ritual. It was a long, complex and annoying task and so the sorceress came to the conclusion that tormenting her poor lackey would be an amusing diversion in repayment for the amount of effort she had to put in bringing him back to life.
For hours she danced, the ritualised steps now burned into her memory with the amount of times she had repeated them. She screamed her incantation to the stiff morning winds and wove her hands in complex sigils of summoning and binding until, at last, she dropped to her knees at the feet of her child, exhausted by her efforts. The first light rain drops trickled along her hair, knotting it into greasy lumps as the unclean cloud-burst became a thundering downpour that was thick with the stench of corruption. It poured down the zombie's broad shoulders and along his sinewy limbs, running into the creases between slave and master's hands where they were intertwined in what could possibly, to an outside observer, appear to be a gesture of affection. Kala heard the rattling creak of long-dead limbs jerking into motion in a twisted parody of life as her creation stirred to do her bidding once more. Rast's eyes split open like great chasms opening on the seabed, they glowed with a ghostly green fire, and his broad slash of a mouth contorted into a grimace-like smile.

Nagaira's reanimating rain:
a: -1
b: 0
c: +1
d: +2
e: 0
f: -2
g: -1
h: +1
i: -1 (using a phial of blood)
j: +1
total: 0

Kala pulled the apple out of her pocket and placed it lightly on Rast's head, commanding him to stay still if he didn't want that stupid grin of his to get any wider. Striding away until her toy was almost lost to sight, she turned and began her invocation. The wind swirled about her lithe frame in chilling gusts that perversely warmed her tattered soul. It invigorated her, cleansed her, renewed her. With a wicked grin, she called upon Nagaelythe of the utterdark to scourge her chosen target with a howling wind of ice and hail to carve the indelible mark of the chill north into its flesh. Hopefully the flesh of the apple, not her servant, but Kala wasn't too fussy. Her hands wove the patterns of the Ancient North as she danced, twining together and slashing the air to paint the runes of Nagh, Lath and Kar - the power of ice, the storm and desperate, numbing cold - in shimmering letters the colour of a corpse left out in the snow, the runes rippled like waves on a pond and glinted evilly with the knowledge that they summoned Nature's great destroyers: the power of ice and snow, wind and rain, the storm of Naggaroth in all its terrifying fury.
With an almost bestial shout Kala thrust her hand through the sigils, pointing an accusing finger at the apple upon her servant's head some distance away. The runes split asunder with a thunderclap and Kala's hair whipped madly as an invisible force caressed her skin for the briefest of instants, the sorceress luxuriating in its cold embrace, before it furiously roared past her, scything through the air to smite its mistresses' target.

Some distance away, with a confused expression on his face, Rast slowly keeled over. Kala returned to her slave and distastefully prodded it with the toe of her boot.
"Hmmm, perhaps I overdid it?"
With a sigh, the sorceress sat down, crossed her legs and waited to see if her servant would get up again. Spending her remaining time preparing mentally for the trials ahead.


accurate chillwind:

a: 0 Aggression
b: +1
c: 0 accurate
d: 0 Visual distance
e: +2 only six seconds
f: -2
g: -1 (curse you inauspicious day!)
h: 0
i: -2
j: +1
total: -1

Kala will cast the reanimating rain, if it is not succesful then she will cast it again with all of her allotted short spells until it is succesful, not using any more mundane components unless it is her final casting attempt, in which case for that one she will use a phial of elven blood. If reanimating rain is succesful on the first go (long spell) then Kala will cast chillwind with her remaining spells to practice (assuming that practicing like this will give us some sort of bonus). When it comes to the actual demonstration/competition in the evening at the moment I intend for Khala to do exactly as she has here in using chillwind on the apple, with the exception that she will use another phial of elven blood to help with casting the spell, although that may change depending on how this works out.
I will cast the spell at the normal max distance for chillwind since I assume it would be fairly difficult to see an apple from any further away. Also, I don't want to actually hit/kill Rast, that's just fluff ;)

OOC: Sorry for slow post, had another exam to do, next week I have mock exams on Tuesday and Wednesday and an exam on Thursday and then I will be free to RP over the christmas break! If I survive that long that is.
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Post by Calisson »

Sixth day summary.

In the evening, Metarchis came back with Helleria. The female Khainite trainee was wearing two bucklers.
Metarchis had somehow learnt to fire a magic missile, and he demonstrated his talent, using Helleria as target. They position at a distance of 24 paces, which was the limit beyond which Metarchis was no longer confortable.
The first missile was a perfect hit, aiming directly at the centre of the buckler. However, a combination of elaborate dance by Helleria and unnatural repel by her other shield made the blast of energy bounce off. Metarchis seemed dizzy at the idea to have shot her.
Viewing that the attempt could not be considered as a success, Metarchis resolved – reluctantly – to shoot again at his beloved.
The second attempt was much more dangerous: instead of the shield, it aimed directly at the lower half of Helleria, which had no protection. The Khainite elaborate dance saved her and she escaped the dangerous lightning. Metarchis had hidden his face in anguish. When he resolved to look at Helleria, he understood – to his relief – that this attempt had been a failure, too.
The third attempt was a success: the buckler was hit and hurled to the sky from the girl’s hand. Helleria’s arm was torn savagely and painfully, the girl fainted – just like the first day when they had met.
As the crowd politely applauded, Metarchis yelled at them: Are you satisfied now, you and your perverse taste for destroying beauty?


When Marcelus witnessed the surprising attempts by a Khainite to master the art of magic missile, he shook off his head in mocking disbelief. The laborious results were predictable.
Himself had a bad day so far, his attempt at healing some of the week’s scars did not succeed. Fire was about destruction, not healing – at least, this is what he was going to demonstrate to the crowd, and especially to the Khainite couple.
Taking the scarecrow as a target – with pleasure – he installed it on a stick, where it was supposed to be. He took pride of taking the smallest target, the hardest to hit, and to add ostensibly six paces to the range chosen by the Khainites.
Marcelus rose his arms, took a deep breath, and cast solemnly his most familiar spell, the purest, most accurate fireball as he could. The apple in the scarecrow’s mouth was instantaneously cooked at perfection and the scarecrow swallowed it, waving its arms in a desperate attempt to fly off the frightening fire which had burnt his whole face.
That pleased the crowd.


Kaladeth was weary of that day. Saturdays were never good for her. At least, the challenge did not seem too difficult.
She installed her grumbling creation with an apple on his head and ordered him to remain still. The zombie obeyed with vehement growls.
She added more than half to the distance record set by Metarchis. At 48 paces, the apple was hard to distinguish anymore.
The comment in the crowd showed that they appreciated the attempt.
The icy missile rushed its way towards the head of the dreadful zombie. A gangue of ice enveloped both the apple and the head.
The demonstration was a success, only the zombie would not agree on that, and certainly not as long as the ice would not melt.

-=-=-

The task of the day was to demonstrate the ability at distance.
Metarchis had blasted a buckler at 24" at the third attempt.
Marcelus had cooked an apple at 30".
Kaladeth had iced an apple at 48".
All three had made collateral damage.
The three candidates had done their best.
Only one of them would be convincing enough to get a full night's rest.


<OOC:The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – Who goes into the pit? Day 6
>IC
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Post by Calisson »

Sixth night, in the pit.

With the superior performance shown by Kaladeth, neither Metarchis nor Marcelus were surprised to be surrounded by guards under the lead of Quasim.

They were bonded and gagged, along with Helleria and Ghurk, under the mocking gaze of Kaladeth, who sent her Rast to rest in a shack.

-=-=-

The group arrived to the pit.
Below, the spur was 20 meters long and 2 meters wide, except at the North end where it enlarged into a 4 meters wide circle.
The first to be brought down were Helleria, left on the North end of the spur, and Ghurk, on the South end.
A torch was left at 2m of each of them.

Quasim grinned, removed the two gags, placed a hood over the two heads, and told the two prisoners:
For tonight, there is a little twist. Have fun with the swing!
Instead of being lifted down, the two of them were held hanging at one yard above the spur, at one yard distance to each other. Their ropes were tied somewhere up, out of the pit.
They would rotate randomly, and once in a while, they would be able to kick the other one and disrupt any concentration.
There were left in that odd position when the loud noise of the stone covering the pit's access was heard.
They would perceive that some light was available in the cave.




<OOC.
You entered the pit one hour before midnight.
The night will end when becomes obvious who will not get out of the pit.

Marcelus: WS4 - S3 - T3 – D1 – I4. IIRC, he is still wounded from the West quest.
Ghurk: WS2, S0, T3, D0, I2. Lack of trust, fear of fire.

Metarchis : WS4, S2, T3, D4, I5.
Helleryia : WS2, S1, T1, D2, I3.

Each of you has a rope entangling his hands, a hood on his head, and no equipment other than your magic object and components.
Helleria and Rast are bonded but not hooded.

You can try to get your hands free; because of the unstable position, it should take 2x(d6 – Dex + 5) minutes. It will take your companions (d6 – Dex + 5) min. Once hands are free, taking away your head bag and gag will take no time.
You can give orders to your companions. They may understand it.
In the water, the survival rate is no more than (d6 x 5 min +Toughness) minutes, and it takes twice as long to untie the bonds.
You can cast whatever spell you wish, before or after freeing your hands. The position is unstable (G.-1).
You had 5 min to prepare your first spell.
You can kick each other once every (d6-D+4)x10 sec, that will interrupt any concentration (spell casting and even spell preparation - once the preparation has been completed, there is no need to do it again).

@ smiler666: No protest. The scenario was written long before the companions were brought to the candidate's service.
That's your problem if Ghurk hates fire and Marcelus too and if his D is 0. :(

@ all
Good luck to both of you :lol: and may the best survive. :roll:

Carry on!
>IC
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Post by Calisson »

In the pit - End

Marcelus knew he had to be quick. With all the strains of the week, his opponent could easily take the upper hand. But Marcelus was tricky in his way and would not leave without drawing the best of Aqshy.
He summoned a small spark on the rope tying his wrists.

<OOC: A.+0 B.+1 C.+0 D.+2 E.+1 F.-2 G.-1 H.+0 I.-2 J.-1 K.+1 total -1. Rolled 6, perfect success! Terrible side effect 3, severe aging (mentally).>IC

After a single minute in the pit, he was free and standing on the spur!
Next, he cast the same spell on his opponent’s rope, wishing to kick his ass into the water.

<OOC: A.+0 B.+1 C.+1 D.+1 E.+1 F.-2 G.+0 H.+0 I.-2 J.+1 K.+0 total +1. Rolled 4, success! Detrimental side effect 2, it stinks (burned tallow, maybe?)
Assuming Metarchis was trying to free his hands.>IC

As soon as his opponent fell on the spur, he kicked him into the water.
Let his girlfriend take care of him, they could stay as long as they wish inside that cave.

<OOC: assuming Hellerya jumps to save her love.>IC

-=-=-

Marcelus went back to his rope and started climbing to freedom.
That was tiring. Very tiring. Soooo tiring. Something best left to youngsters. However, that was the road to safety.
He took care to take along the other rope. Not only his opponent would not be able to follow the same path, but that would let him tie a rope chair when he was tired.

-=-=-

<OOC: There were 20 m to climb. He paused at 6m, 11m, 15m, 18m and 20m. Each step and each pause took him 2 minutes.
Climbing one “step” requires a S test. Not falling during a step requires a D test, until the pit is reached.
Rolled 1 (now at 6m), 1 (resting), 2 (now at 11m, reached the bottom of the pit), 2 (resting), 5 (remaining at 11m), 2 (now at 15m at mid pit – in the pit, no longer D test), 4 (resting), 6 (triggers a D test, merely passed), 3 (now at 18m), 5 (rest), 1 (arrived at 20m). Total 22 min.
Meanwhile, Metarchis and Hellerya wonder where in the world the Fire mage has gone.>IC

Slowly but steadily, he managed to reach the top of the pit.

-=-=-

Alas, the pit was blocked with a heavy stone.
He could not go through. Never mind, he just had to wait there till morning, and he would be the first to pop up. Et voilà!
He arranged one last time the ropes in order to be able to rest up there.
The task was harder than he thought.
He tried, tried again and tried once more.

<OOC: rolled 4, 4 and 6 for a D test – followed by 1 for a S test>IC

Suddenly, he skidded!
With an extraordinary move and a loud swear, he managed to block his body in the middle of the pit.
Now, he was pushing the sides of the pit with his arms and legs. A very uncomfortable position.

-=-=-

He was still on that position when he saw Metarchis, alerted by the swear, looking above and preparing to cast a spell.
That was too unfair. All these efforts in vain? He decided to blast that bastard in flames.

<OOC: A.+0 B.+1 C.+0 D.+0 E.+0 F.-2 G.-1 H.-1 I.-2 J.+0 K.+2 (automiscast) total -3. Rolled 4, missed. Miscast 4, lost D, range 2m. Try again, missed again, miscast 5, lost I, range 1m. Try again, epic fail, miscast 5, lost one more I, range 4m. >IC

That was really difficult. With an epic fail, Marcelus lost his grip in the pit.
He did not manage to block himself again.

-=-=-

He was falling, a 10m free fall on a rock.
He was done for. Time seemed to slow down as Marcelus watched the Khainite face approaching fast. He had suspected that he would not be the one leaving the pit from the start. It didn't make accepting it any easier. He wouldn't let himself be obliterated from the world without a parting gift though. In the last seconds before losing his life, Marcelus opened his mind, gathering up all the power he could, not just his own wind or just in the pit, he gathered up all the magic energy his mind could reach in his last moment of lucidity, felt it well up inside him, felt his mind split as it became too much. Then realeased it.
It worked! Before dying, he had the satisfaction to feel the heat of the flames swallowing the spur.

<Rolled 6 indeed. Automiscast 4, loss D, range 2m. Metarchis was inside range, Hellerya was outside.>

The fall did not hurt anyone else.
Fortunately for them, both Metarchis and Hellerya were thrown by the killing blast on the spur, they did not fall into the water and did not drown.

<OOC: 1/3 chances to remain on the spur. Both passed.>

-=-=-

In the morning, the stone over the pit was rolled and a rope allowed Metarchis and Hellerya to get out. Only Ghurk was a witness of what happened in the pit that night.

<OOC: Metarchis has lost 1 Dex>
Last edited by Calisson on Sun Dec 18, 2011 3:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Calisson »

The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – The ultimate challenge: Oath of duty.

Kaleth Silverjaw came, with a particular grave face.
The goal of your presence in this island was to demonstrate the superiority of your Magic mastery over the other candidates.
Both of you did very well during the week. I compliment you two.

He told that Morathi would be pleased to have the best one hired for a year at her personal service, where they would have an exceptional chance to improve their arcane knowledge and gain powerful patrons and fine reputation.

Only one of you will be hired.
Tonight, at dusk, both of you will attend an oath ceremony, here in the tower.
During the ceremony, state the reasons why Morathi should hire you and swear your allegiance.


The most convincing will receive a small personal gift.
Next, you will have an opportunity to prove to be the chosen one – according to or despite the choice made – by besting your competitor in combat.
The one emerging victorious will be declared Morathi’s champion.
The champion will be trained during next year, in order to reach the next level of mastery of his arcane art.
Before leaving the island, if required, the champion will be fully healed of any permanent injury suffered here.

<OOC: You have time for a single day long casting spell, and several minute-casting spells.
You can use that preparation to increase your chances for the ensuing fight.
In your reply, mention the exact wording of your oath.
There will be a poll to judge the best oath.
The winner will receive one Sulephet’s horseshoe (the bearer of the horseshoe counts as having a magic object, when casting a spell).
>IC
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Post by Red... »

Metarchis found himself almost suprised to be standing in front of Silverjaw again that morning. During the previous night's events he had felt unusually uncertain of himself and, had it not been for the unfortunate antics of his fire mage opponent and the quick thinking support of his newly found love, then he was almost certain that he would have been done for. He closed his eyes and uttered a silent thanks to Khaine. This time the God had protected him, but he knew that he could never again be so unfocused in his actions. He knew too that they had reached the final stretch of this competition and, having come so far, he was determined to either seize victory at the last, or die trying.

He listened attentitively as Silverjaw explained the task for the day, his mind working quickly to assimilate the information and come up with a plan. This was actually less challenging than he had anticipated - he knew immediately what he must say in his oath to persuade Morathi that he was the more trustworthy candidate, and he resolved that this would be the pledge he would make.

The second portion of the task would be more difficult. He knew that his opponent was a wily, underhanded kind of she-devil who would stop at nothing in her dastardly attempt to steal victory from Metarchis's worthy hands. With this knowledge in mind, he set about training for the upcoming fight.

The first spell that he cast was Dance of Doom. In order to empower himself with this mighty magic, he began to practice the dance, moving his feet nimbly through the air as he hopped from one foot to the other. He sang softly as he spoke, imbuing each of his footfalls with syllables of power, before finally moving to a soft chant, repeating the name of his God over and over:Khaine, Khaine, Khaine, Khaine.

OOC:
Spell: Dance of Doom.
Target: Me.
Intended Duration: Until midnight.
Intended effect: Make me able to dodge attacks.
Notes: This is my long spell.

IC:
Once Metarchis felt that he had mastered the dance sufficiently himself, he turned to consider which other spells he could cast to prepare himself for the fight.

His first choice was Rune of Khaine. Taking out his knife, he cut shallowly into the arm of Helleryia and daubed her blood onto the top of his head, smearing it artfully so that it resembled the rune in question. He explained to Helleryia that her blood was best suited for the task because not only was she touched by the hand of the bloody handed god, but he would need all of his vitality for the fight ahead. She happily agreed.

OOC:
Spell: Rune of Khaine.
Target: Me.
Intended effect: Give me more attacks.
Intended duration: Until midnight.
Note: This is my first short spell

IC:
Metarchis then turned to his third spell of the day, another quick buff which he hoped would last until the evening. This represented another favourite: Touch of Death.

To cast this spell, Metarchis traced his dagger over every exposed portion of his body, whispering soft prayers to Khaine as he did so. Once he had finished, he used the tip of the blade to make a pinprick incision into the tip of his left index finger, waved it in the air and pronounced: Blessed be your powers, oh Lord of Murder. Grant unto me the power to execute your foes with even the barest of touches.

OOC:
Spell: Touch of Death.
Target: Me.
Intended effect: Give me killing blow.
Intended duration: Until midnight.
Note: This is my second quick spell.

Finally, once this spell had been attempted, Metarchis endeavoured to use his third and final quick spellcasting attempt to recast any of the spells that he had tried to cast earlier that might have failed (if more than one was failed, then he will give first preference to Dance of Doom, then Rune of Khaine and then Touch of Death). If all spells had been successfully cast, then he will begin to cast Fury of Khaine (Dark Elf Version). To do so, he will close his eyes and clench his fists for a moment, channelling all of his internal rage and eternal hatred into a single, intense burst of utter fury, which he will express with a single cry: Death to the Foes of Khaine!!.

OOC:
Spell: Fury of Khaine.
Target: Me.
Intended effect: Increase my number of attacks further.
Intended duration: Until midnight.
Note: This is my third and final short spell.

IC:
Once all four spell casting attempts had been made, Metarchis rested his body and mind as much as possible until the time of the challenge, Helleryia attending to his needs as he sat and tried his best to nurture and prepare his remaining strength for the task ahead.

Finally, the hour of the final challenge was here and he strode confidently into the doors of the tower. There, he prostrated himself in front of Morathi (if she is present) or Silverjaw (if she is not) and, placing both hands on the floor, uttered the following vow:

Oh lady of power, I swear not only my own fealty, but also that of Helleryia - former slave girl and now favoured daughter of Khaine. I promise that we will serve you with our living bodies and our undying souls. We will ruthlessly hunt down any who oppose you and cut them down without respite or mercy.

With these words said, Metarchis stood back up on his feet and edged respectfully away from the Lady of Naggaroth. He moved to the edge of the room, awaiting her decision. He knew that it would be a difficult choice, but hoped that Morathi would value the chance to curry the favour of Khaine by employing two of his most devoted servants, above the minimal advantage that she would gain from adding yet another boring and essentially redundant sorceress of darkness to her retinue.

OOC: I am assuming that you will resolve the oath vote before we are supposed to write about what actions we would like our character to take during the second task (the fight), so have not included details here. However, if you want information about what our character intends to during the fight provided sooner, then please just indicate this and I will be happy to write what Metarchis will do.
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Post by Malus99 »

“Mighty Queen of Dhar, I pledge my fealty to you, undying and unquestioning. I give you my undivided loyalty, I will serve you unto the end of ages with every ounce of my strength, I will hold no love, nor venerate any god but you, for all else would be distraction. The darkness gathers as a storm and I will throw myself into the tempest if you would let me serve you, my life is yours to spend as you see fit, for I serve the will of the black winds, and they know only you as their true master.
As do I.”

With her words spoken, head bowed in obeisance, Kaladeth held up a finger and whispered a quiet incantation. Her fingernail lengthened into a talon of obsidian that was shrouded in wisps of smoke and fog. With a hiss of pain she dug the claw into the skin of her left shoulder, leaving molten red trails etched into her skin as she carved out a rune with painstaking precision, shaping the arrowhead crossed with the serpent that symbolised Arha, rune of darkness. Languid trails of blood rolled down her side as she straightened, her face a mask of ecstatic tranquillity as she felt the pain curling up her spine in electric tremors. The exquisite agony bloomed in her mind like the dawning sun, a barbed scourge that carved furrows in her consciousness.
With an effort of extreme will, Kaladeth forced her legs to turn and remove her from the chamber before she collapsed.

Staggering back to her mud shack where Rast was stored, Kala removed the rotten, stinking hulk from its storage and dumped it unceremoniously on the ground before her, dainty hand placed firmly upon its chest as she began her incantation. The wind howled as her spell gathered strength and the first light raindrops began to fall from the heavens, drenching the ground beneath in greasy, green droplets until it resembled nothing so much as a radioactive oil slick. Kala’s hair was whipped into a fury by the rumbling gale, the liquid crimson detritus of her offering to Morathi flensed from her skin and sent spiralling into the sky by the intensity of the sorcerous cloud burst, leaving behind a smoky, ebony-black scar that shivered occasionally with ill-repressed power.

As the wind abated the witch stood, the slimy sheen of the corpse rain sloughing from her skin until, within little more than a minute, she was perfectly dry. Idly Kala gave her servant an encouraging kick in the side to see if he would get up, whilst her mind lingered on the prospect of the coming battle. Hungrily licking her lips, the sorceress smiled as she began to prepare for the coming challenge, she could hardly wait.

Reanimating rain:
a: -1
b: 0
c: +1
d: +2
e: 0
f: -2
g: 0
h: +1
i: -2
j: 0
total: -1

Kala will cast this until it succeeds. I eagerly await the call to the final battle, best of luck to you Red
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.
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Calisson
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Post by Calisson »

The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – The ultimate night

The night arrived.
For the first time, the two candidates were allowed to penetrate the tower.

The ground floor was made of a single large room. The decoration was magnificent. Embroidered silk on the walls, chime sounds, oriental incenses, tables covered with baskets of sweets and jugs of diverse enchanting drinks.

Kaleth was standing next to a golden throne with the effigy of Morathi.
The candidates were invited to knee and crawl in front of the throne.

The two of them made their declaration, as loud as they could.
<00C:The Magic Reality Show (TMRS) – Who is the best recruit ?>IC

-=-=-

Kaleth asked the crowd: Who can we trust to be the most loyal to Morathi?
The crowd cheered successfully the two Candidates.
When the echoes ceased, Kaleth knew who should be given Morathi’s gift.

Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Calisson
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Post by Calisson »

Ultimate night - In the pit

The crowd cheered successfully the two Candidates. When the echoes ceased, Kaleth knew who should be given Morathi’s gift.
Kaladeth, you have always been a trustful worshipper of Dhar.
Come to me and receive this gift, coming from the greatest of all mages, She who first mastered Dhar energies.

Kaladeth received a horseshoe which once belonged to Sulephet, the trusted mount of Morathi.
The horseshoe was a sign of good luck; this one was also an arcane item, which helped to cast spells.
She inclined her head, showing that the gift had been provided to appropriate hands.

Metarchis was pale with jealousy, but couldn’t help what he thought was a wrong, unfair choice. He resolved to show them all later how mistaken they had been.

-=-=-

At the end of the ceremony, everybody went out of the tower, towards the pit. The sky was clear and cold, the stars seemed to be many more than usual, and much closer too.
Kaladeth and Metarchis were escorted solemnly, with all the guards bearing torches and singing praises to Morathi. They were surprised not to be bounded or restrained in any way.

-=-=-

The group gathered around the pit, still chanting hymns.
Two guards went first into the pit. They kept singing, with a voice which resonated oddly in the cave.
Rast and Helleryia were brought down. Rast went on the North end of the spur, Helleryia on the South end. They were left free.
Next, Metarchis was brought down. He was ordered with a hand gesture to remain near the centre of the pit. He wondered why he was left hands free, but did not dare to question the guard.
Finally, Kaladeth came down on the spur, near Metarchis.
A mysterious bag was lying on the ground near them.

Suddenly, all chants ceased. The echoes faded.
A loud voice was heard, coming from the pit. It was Kaleth Silverjaw.
Kaladeth! Metarchis!
One of you will leave the pit to be granted a rare privilege: to become Morathi’s squire for one year.
She needs the best one. You have to prove your value, one last time.
Carry on!

As the order was given, the two guards grabbed the two candidates by surprise and threw them into the water, one on each side.
They hit simultaneously the cold water. The guards were hauled up out of the pit, which was soon covered with a heavy stone.


<OOC: Everyone sees everyone, except Kaladeth and Metarchis, on each side of the spur, who cannot see each other.
East pond, Kaladeth: WS3, S3, T3, D4, I5.
West pond, Metarchis: WS4, S2, T3, D3, I5.
North spur, Rast: WS1, S4, T2, D1, I1.
South spur, Helleryia: WS2, S1, T1, D2, I3.
Centre of the spur, there is one bag and one torch.

Everyone is free to move/swim. Nobody has any weapon.
In the water, the survival rate is no longer than (d6 x 5 min +Toughness) minutes.
From the centre of their pond where they are swimming, Kaladeth and Metarchis can see some rocks making a natural scale leading to the spur; swimming to it would take (5 + d6 – Dex) minutes.
Being thrown into the water has broken any concentration. Any spell that might have been prepared is wasted, the preparation has to be resumed from the start.
It is possible to prepare and cast a spell in the water, but the concentration allows only to keep the head at the surface, not to swim. Swimming in the cold water towards the spur does not allow to prepare a spell.

You may wish to indicate your actions with a PM, as the opponent is not supposed to see what is going on.
>IC
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}
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Red...
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Post by Red... »

Metarchis seethed with rage. How dare the insolent little she-devil of bedtime receive Morathi's token instead of him.

Well, I'll show those worthless peons what it means to be a mage of power!

Metarchis yelled up to Helleryia, bidding her to scream and shout and do everything possible to distract Kaladeth enough to prevent her from casting any nefarious magicks. At the same time, he swam as hastily as possible towards the Southern Spur.

Upon arriving (assuming he arrives!), Metarchis leapt up onto the dry land. Once there, he readied himself to charge across the spur and engage his opponent in hand to hand combat.
"While all answers are replies, not all replies are answers. So answer the question."

Don't be a munchkin?

Image

I am an Extraordinary Druchii Gentleman
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Malus99
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Post by Malus99 »

Paddling in the water, Kaladeth heard Metarchis’ shout from the other side of the pit. Knowing she had to act fast, she clutched at the magical horseshoe Morathi had gifted her and concentrated on a spell to lift her from the water. As her spell began to take shape, Kala felt a feral grin spread across her face. This was her final test, and she welcomed it with open arms.
Veni, Vidi, Voro!!!

All things perish, this is the law of existence, accept your suffering and your mortality, only by using this truth, can you transcend it.
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