Logo
View unanswered posts | View active topics It is currently Sun Jul 21, 2019 2:20 pm



Reply to topic  [ 267 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 11  Next
SAU XII: Black Ark Down 
Author Message
Morathi's Best Friend
Morathi's Best Friend
User avatar

Joined: Tue Oct 04, 2005 5:06 pm
Posts: 1202
Location: Flanders, Belgium
A long time ahead in a galaxy far, far away....

There is only war. The Empire clashes with the enigmatic the forces of Chaos over thousands of planets. Imperial Outpost 31415 is under siege by a horde of demons, and the last remaining batallion is holding its ground until reinforcements drop from orbit. Unbeknownst to them, but knownst to us, the battle over this frozen outpost will make history...

°°°

“Incoming!” Sergeant Willis ducked behind the sandbags when screaming balls of blue fire flew overhead, smashing against the concrete bunker behind him. One of the lascannons stopped firing. “Goddammit, where is our air support?”

Daemons ran over the icy fields, closing in on the third and only unbreached line before the outpost itself would be hit. Gun barrels rattled and sizzled from overuse; the only thing keeping them running where the subzero temperatures that kept the barrels from melting at the spot.

“Van Kook, keep that gatling firing! Piercon, check what's taking Tangent so long—we need that ammo! Cyggis, radio those marines and tell them to get their friggin' asses down here! Their first wave barely made it to the ground before they got their nuts ripped off!”

“Can I quote you on that, sarge?”

“Pretty please with frakking sugar on top.”

“Sarge, ammo's coming in!”

Willis kept his head down while seeing Tangent, a skinny man with a will to live, narrowly dodge the barrage of demonic fire raining from the sky and running at him. The private dove behind the sandbags, panting heavily with wide-open eyes. He needed some time to compute what was happening, time he was not getting anytime soon.

“Tangent,” Willis shouted. “Where the hell is my ammo?”

“The outpost is gone, sarge,” Tangent replied.

“What? How did they get past us?”

“No, I mean, it's gone, sarge. It's just not there anymore.”

“Are you pulling my leg, soldier?” Still, Willis snatched his binoculars from his belt and scanned the horizon behind him. And what he saw, he did not like. “Well, I'll be damned. It frakking did disappear into thin air.”

°°°

“Under my very nose.”

Rensat wasn't normally a woman to get excited easily. Having a more artistic view on affairs, she managed to put most situations in a calming perspective. Unfortunately for her, people were doing everything in their power to cram the most unnerving perspectives down her throat.

Hellebron, on the other hand, was calm as a daisy, sitting comfortably in the chair she was provided in Rensat's office. Being the de facto leader of the Temple of Khaine, Hellebron enjoyed a charismatic aura that commanded respecting fear, but she was more or less among equals here. After all, Rensat was an emissary from the Witch King himself, and slighting the king's emissary meant slighting the king.

“Calm yourself, Rensat,” she suggested. “Much like everything, this ridiculing in court will blow over, and you'll be able to set your mind on more important matters.”

“Calm myself?” Rensat snipped at her, staring out the window giving out on the plaza below. “He threw his smug grin right in my face with his successful destruction of a heretic shrine in the Wastes. A single battalion! Ploughed through the Wastes, burned the shrine to a crisp, and returned a hero, while I couldn't even settle a trade with humans—lord knows how many times he pointed that out in court.” She sighed and swung her hand with a hint of drama. “I will not be taken seriously before the new year.”

“Perhaps you should upstage him?” Hellebron's tone carried a lack of enthousiasm. She was not in the mood to hear rants and moans about how unfair life was.

“I have every intention of doing so,” Rensat explained, her voice calmed. “Our coven has long since taken note of a powerful artifact enshrined and entombed deep in the Chaos Wastes. I intend to seize it, take it here, and annihilate it with as much showmanships as I possibly can.”

Hellebron snorted once. It took no genius to guess the next step, and instantly her own presence was explained. “And you expect me to send the Temple's finest in a quest to satisfy your ego? Explain to me why I would possibly do that.”

“I know what you want, Hellebron. It's no secret: you want that cauldron of hers.” Rensat set her fingers on her desk, leaning on it while pulling herself closer to Hellebron. “And I don't need to tell you that, as emissary to the king, I'm in a position to suggest our queen learn to share.”

Hellebron's eyes opened at the offer—finally her interest was piqued. She knew Morathi spited her at every corner, at every turn she made for the cauldron to give her eternal youth; the prospect of having another shot at it invoked her interest.

Rensat stressed every word, tapping her finger on the desk she leant on. “Get me that artifact.”

°°°

A cold, dry wind blew from the north. Frozen breaths hung in the air while people huddled deeper in their warm cloaks, hoping to shield them from the sharp wind. Why anyone would volunteer to travel to these inhospitable Wastes, no-one could tell. Then again, rumour went only one elf in the expedition volunteered.

This was an ark, a Black Ark to be precise. It was a huge, fortified construction with just enough floatability not to sink to the bottom of the ocean. Sailors ran left and right, manning the sails and carrying out other duties to help the ship going in the proper direction. Orders were barked left and right from naval officers walking over the deck, like dogs herding a flock of sheep.

“Sir,” Anleth greeted Tarbo when she stood next to him on deck, looking out over the great ocean. She had never been to the Chaos Wastes. So few people had. “Any idea what we should expect? Out there?”

Tarbo cocked his head, keeping his eyes on the horizon. “Ice, snow, the occasional five-legged lizard and, hopefully, a whole lot of nothing.”

“Five-legged lizards, sir?”

“Long story.” He waved the topic off with a slight smile. “Shouldn't you be in the meeting room with all the Temple's finests?”

“The Temple's finests have agreed on how I would best serve them,” Anleth explained. “Three coffees, an espresso, and some bagels.”

Tarbo chuckled, shaking his head with an amused smile while leaning precariously over the bannister, staring the long, long way down in the eye for a moment. A vessel of this size displaced an enormous amount of water, putting a lot of strain on the materials keeping the ark together. Then again, the dimensions were needed to house all the people that were sent along on the expedition.

“Shouldn't you be in there, sir?”

“Probably.”

Anleth waited for an explanation, keeping her eyes on the man who insisted to test his balance and push his luck with gravity. She wasn't sure whether he would make her ask, but she was in no mood to ask, anyway.

“I already got the heads-up on our mission.”

“Truly?”

“Yep. We're looking for a magical rock.”

“A rock, sir?”

“A magical rock.”

Anleth rolled her eyes to the sea. “Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Does what?”

“All this. Out on an ark, us on deck, hunting for magical artifacts across the globe...”

Tarbo held momentarily, hands sloughed in his pockets, thinking. Ultimately, he shook his head. “Not offhand, no. Should it?”

“...I suppose not, sir.”

°°°

“Man the sails, you dogs!” Darts bellowed while sailors ran over the deck in haphazard directions, each one tending to some task, the whole keeping everything in working order. “Just because we're flying doesn't mean you can sit on your hinds!”

Anleth was doing what Tarbo had been doing some time ago: staring deep, deep down over the bannister. But she was not looking at ocean. She was looking at a forest. And that alarmed her.

“Fascinating, isn't it?”

Mioralynthia, or Lynthia for short, was about as close to an official city sorceress as one was likely to get. Unfortunately for her, her role was more that of a city secretary, a distinction that irked her to no end. At any rate, her sea sickness had passed, and now she was on deck without hanging over.

Anleth nodded in agreement, her eyes rolling over the landscape passing underneath her feet. She had never, ever been airborne in her entire life. She barely ever set foot on a ship. She was a land rat born and raised. “I had no idea a sorceress coven could do this. I'm aware there are many wondrous things sorceresses can do, but this boggles the imagination.”

“It wasn't my idea.” Mioralynthia's tone suggested she wouldn't have suggested it, either, even if she had thought of it. “We are attracting too much attention.”

Again, Anleth nodded in agreement. “I imagine a flying fortress does draw eyes onto itself.”

“I'm not speaking of visual attention, captain, I speak of magical attention. To keep a construction of this size flying, a massive amount of energy is required; energy that draws attention.”

“I trust Captain Darts knows what he is doing.”

“It was not his idea, either.”

“kewl l33t hax r0X0rz!one1!”

Both Mioralynthia as Anleth widened their eyes in surprise at the nonsense rising from their left. An elf, fully plated in off-colour armour stared motionlessly over the edge.

“Wild guess,” Mioralynthia almost sneered, eyes burning on the singular elf. “Haksor is the expedition's only volunteer.”

“He does seem thrilled to be flying. And he mentioned something about...” Anleth frowned, trying to recall the exact wording. “Quest points?”

“...I see. Not playing with a full deck, is he?”

“You could say that.”

°°°

Captain Darts peeked at his compass while keeping most of his attention on the steering wheel. Captaining an airborne ark was surprisingly similar to captaining a seaborne one. Still, he seemed much more stressed now than he was when his boat (or vessel, nautical term) was still touching the ocean's waters.

“Are we still on course?” Mioralynthia asked him, judging that Darts was looking at his compass uncomfortably often while adjusting his steering. It almost looked as if he were lost.

“So says the compass, lass,” Darts replied, barely moving his lips. “As much as its north is repeatedly attempting to escape my notice.”

“...Pardon my confusion,” Anleth raised a question, “but how can north try to escape notice?”

With a nimbleness revealing decades of experience, Darts lobbed the compass into Anleth's hands, wordlessly offering her a look for herself. And when she looked—and Tarbo and Mioralynthia peeked along over her shoulders—she noticed that the needle was indeed having some trouble making up its mind. “Can you... navigate on landmarks? Mountains and such?”

“Landmarks without a marked land are like captains without a ship: meaningless, restless, and hopelessly depressing.” Darts threw a brief look over his shoulder when he did not receive a reply of any sort, and simply found several blank stares on him. “We need a map,” he whispered, raising his upper lip but not his teeth.

“We don't have a map?” Anleth asked curiously.

“It's the Chaos Wastes,” Tarbo explained. “It's not exactly a high-traffic area.”

°°°

The sky was a clear blue, with the sun shining clearly but shedding little warmth. A white tuft passed slowly overhead, a distant cloud rolling gently and missing the sun by miles. It was peaceful and calming. But it was also cold, bitingly cold, especially around the arms, legs, and back.

A tug on her left arm. Mioralynthia frowned and blinked her eyes, pulling her head out of the snow—much to her own surprise; she hadn't noticed she was lying sprawled in the icy fields. She did notice Anleth having taken a hold of her arm, her lips moving but making no sound. She looked terrible, covered in dust and ash, a few specks of blood scattered over her body, hair in wild disarray.

“Anleth, are you alright? Speak up, I don't hear a word of what you're saying.”

When she cast her eyes past the woman holding her arm, startlement overtook her. The ark she had previously been standing on had almost entirely crumbled, bits and pieces lying scattered around the broken hull as if the construct had lost a chicken race with the planet. A fiery blaze sailed from the rear quarters, and she spotted people running back and forth in complete disarray. Here and there, haphazard officers stood as beacons of leadership, pointing wildly. Slowly, some sound was starting to make it to her ears.

“Mistress, how many fingers do you see?”

Mioralynthia snapped her attention back to Anleth with a bewildered look. What on earth was going on here? “What just happened? Why is our ark in shambles?”

“Can she stand?” Tarbo asked, pacing towards the two of them. “Nothing broken?”

“She might have taken a hit to the head,” Anleth replied. “She does not remember what happened.”

“In short: we were attacked, we fell, we crashed. We can fill in the details later.” Tarbo took Mioralynthia's other arm and nodded to Anleth to help the sorceress onto her feet.

“Are there still daemons about, sir?”

“No, it seems we've got the last of them. And hu!”

Mioralynthia shook her head, her balance restored once she stood on her feet. Memories of screams and explosions sifted through her mind as if searching for a spot of thought to hang onto. Images of blood and daemons flashed back, and the sudden crash when the ark hit the ground full on.

“Let's round up the survivors, check our status.”

°°°

Piles of stone and rubble marked the ground in and around the ark as if it were a ruin that had withstood the mark of time only barely. Entire floors and decks had disappeared into eachother, rooms and quarters reduced to a pale shadow of their former glory. The sun was setting by the time all the survivors and bodies had been cleared from the wreckage, and now only a blood red hue shone over the horizon.

This was the coven chamber, where the fight broke out in all its violence: scraps of flesh, armour, and blood were tastelessly decorating floor, walls and ceiling where they hadn't been covered by debris. The attack had been swift and brutal, taking the life of several sorceresses, the focus of others, and thus breaking the levitation spell.

“We've rallied the survivors and inventoried our remaining stock,” Kevlamin reported while navigating past the debris. He wasn't sure he wanted to stay around for long; it looked like the entire structure could come down at moment's notice. “How about you? Found anything?”

“Possibly,” Tarbo replied, hunched in the chamber. He held up a remarkably unremarkable amulet, and waited for Kevlamin to take it. “See if Lynthia can figure out what this is.”

“It's an amulet,” Kevlamin commented. “You'd expect something like this in a coven. Sorceresses wear amulets.”

“Nobody was wearing this. It was just lying here, unharmed.” Tarbo stood again, stretching his neck. “It could be crud, it could be a clue as to what happened here and, more importantly, how.”

“How do you mean? We already know how: daemons appearing out of thin air in the middle of the coven chamber. The rest is kind of straightforward.”

Tarbo shook his head. “Maybe. But I reckon this chamber was heavily warded.”

“Perhaps not heavily enough,” Kevlamin reasoned. “These are the Chaos Wastes. Lots of raw magic about.”

“Or perhaps someone left the backdoor open.”

°°°

You wipe the sweat off your forehead, sweat that had been building from clearing debris and rescuing survivors. Others are resting here as well, called for some kind of meeting. A fire has been started to keep you warm in the arduously cold night, and you welcome the comforting warmth it gives you. In your mind, you recount the recent events.

The expedition you are part of was sent to recover an artifact of incredible power from the Chaos Wastes, so that it could be dissected and, if found dangerous to keep, destroyed. This expedition had attracted the eyes of many Houses and other organisations, and even led to the requisitioning of a Black Ark.

Events become ever less credible from there on: rather than docking somewhere and continuing on with a long march through the Wastes, the entire ark was lifted into the air, levitated, and effectively flew over the Wastes. As sensational as the experience was, it came to an abrupt end when the coven doing the levitating was attacked and subsequently slaughtered. Combat broke out between crew and the daemons that somehow appeared in the coven chamber, and while the fight was ultimately won, the ark crashed spectacularly, wiping out over half the expedition.

Now, you are all grounded and left with little of the resources you set out with. In a sense, you're happy you survived; you've heard that, if you die in the Chaos Wastes, your soul is irrevokably sucked into the Warp. You're not sure what it exactly entails, but it sounds like a thoroughly unpleasant experience.

Footsteps mark someone's approach. Mioralynthia sits down near the campfire, her walk and stature graceful despite the recent events. She does not look particularly thrilled but, then again, not a lot of you do, and those that do are still on an adrenaline rush from narrowly escaping death.

“Goodevening,” she greets you with necessary politeness. You're not entirely sure of her social status, but her demeanor suggests that whichever station she occupies, it is above yours on the foodchain. “Thank you for hearing the summons. I will be brief.

“You no doubt have heard that we were looking into the nature of this incident. After some deliberation with the remaining officials, we've concluded that we have been sabotaged.”

Sabotaged? Some people look surprised, some appalled, others already suspected that such spectacular failure needed some sentient guidance. Before the obvious question rises, namely why they suspect sabotage, the sorceress holds up an amulet between her fingers.

“This is a single-charge portal amulet found within the coven chamber. Despite its simple appearance, it is no lesser artifact: it serves not only as a homing beacon, but can summon a veritable portal merely when invoked from miles away. It is depleted, so we believe this was the daemons' way into our ark.”

You look about yourself. For those of you with no particular expertise in magic, this meeting seems a little awkward. Are you expected to aid the investigation and find the culprits? If so, how?

“You were summoned here because you are the most likely suspects. Or pardon my inaccuracy, the most likely suspects left on the list after eliminating all the casualties we've suffered.”

“Beg our pardon, mistress,” one of you asks, “but how do we know that the culprits have not already perished? As you say, there have been many casualties, possibly themselves as well.”

“That is a good point you raise, but mere moments before this meeting was called, what we managed to save of our records after the crash was suddenly found aflame, leaving us, after dousing the fires, with nothing but scraps and fragments to piece together. So we suspect at least some of the culprits to still be around.”

And this begs the obvious question: how will this investigation proceed? Are you all ad hoc arrested?

“As it happens, we find ourselves in a dilemma. Just about all of our leaders were huddled in one chamber, which was visited by a rather unruly horde of daemons shortly after the fight broke out. If we are to continue this expedition, we will require more leaders than we can spare. So congratulations,” Mioralynthia sighs. “You were all promoted to Officer ad interim.”

Mentally, you match your name with the new title: Officer. Not a bad match, not bad at all. But back to business.

“We cannot run an investigation and the expedition at the same time, and we cannot afford to simply detain everyone and torture out the details. So we've decided that you, collectively, will single out people for the captain to...” She pauses for a moment, trying her hand at a euphemism. “...extract the details from.”

“As for me,” she finishes with a sigh while taking a collections of books and scrolls to hand. “I will be making sure these decisions are carried out, that no-one finds himself accidentally riddled with blades during the meeting and, casually, will attempt to devise a way to keep this expedition from going any more to the hells than it already has. To degrees possible.”

So... you guess that opens the meeting... around a campfire, in the pitch of night.

________________________

    Players
  1. Soupman
  2. LordAnubis
  3. Drainial Shadowheart
  4. Belial.
  5. lordofthenight
  6. Ashnari Doomsong
  7. Demendred
  8. Khelmor
  9. Draknir Reaverblade
  10. Aleraen
  11. Has Neledak
  12. beastmaster kurlan
  13. Aenarin
  14. Katash
  15. Shadow Dark
  16. 51la5
  17. SleekDD


With 17 players, 9 constitute a majority.

It is now Day. The activity deadline is set on Saturday, 18h00 GMT. The final deadline is hovering around Monday, 18h00 GMT; I'll get back to you on it when the activity deadline expires.

Now it's all in your hands. Go get them.

_________________
SAU XV: Pawn of the Dead | SAU XVII: The Frosty Dozen | SAU XIX: On the Brink of Madministration | Running fiction: House Arhakuyl


Tue Oct 23, 2007 10:23 pm
Profile
Shade
User avatar

Joined: Sat Feb 25, 2006 12:33 am
Posts: 103
Location: In yur panntree eetin yur cheatoes
Post 
A raven haired Druchii stands up. His he moves with his armor very well, as if he never takes it off. The two swords buckled at his side denote his highborn status in society.
"I think now would be a good time to mention, just to clear the air, my name is Aenarin my last name is of no importance. Greetings to you all and it is my wish to find these saboteurs fast and slay them quickly. You are either with me, or against me. There can be no middle ground in this." and with that, he retakes his seat.


Tue Oct 23, 2007 11:38 pm
Profile
Cold One Knight
User avatar

Joined: Sat Sep 29, 2007 12:49 am
Posts: 229
Post 
Sitting across the fire from Aenarin, a Druchii perched his chin on his long fingers as he listened to Aenarin's short speech. A flowing brown robe hid his pressed white uniform. He was particularly nondescript, save for his strange copper hair, teased into a shaggy crest.

Aleraen drew his brown khaitan closer to him, a thin smile drawing his lips. "If it were that simple and absolute a problem, I'd think they wouldn't need our help. But I do agree, the faster we're rid of them, the less likely I get a sharp surprise when I wake up in the morning. Or earlier."

Resuming his seat, the Druchii stared into the fire. Suddenly, he was on his feet again, a thin line of muttered curses sneaking out of his smiling lips, "Ah, and my name is Aleraen. I enjoy candle-lit dinners, good books, and cats. My interests include living, not dieing, and getting the hell out of here. That's about it. Who's up now?" Smirking, Aleraen sat back down.

_________________
Aleraen Gleamfollower
High-Consort of Army Wide Hatred
<Sirist> So you won't lose me. I'm still around. I'm just in you, and in everyone I've known.
Image


Wed Oct 24, 2007 12:58 am
Profile
Angel of Darkness
User avatar

Joined: Sun Feb 11, 2007 6:06 am
Posts: 3455
Location: Australia
Post 
OOC: Excellent start Tarbo, as usual!

IC:
Haiku stared sadly into the fire, feeling like nothing worse could happen to him. The flames danced widely where they crackled, throwing disturbing silhouettes against the crates which surrounded the camp fire. Haiku wish he could smile at the fact he had been promoted, but with being stuck in the chaos wastes as well as missing three fingers, he felt like the world was out to get him. When the Black Ark crashed to the ground, a series of events happened which led to his missing fingers. Firstly, Haiku had been hoisting some rigging upon the mast when the fights broke out. Being pulled from the rigging, Haiku fell to the deck, crashing down upon a group of fighting corsairs.

Picking himself up, Haiku thought he saw one of the monstrous Daemons which soared through the air. It seemed to be glowing but the darkness covered it completely. It was turning people inside out and sucking the souls from its victims. Haiku almost collapsed in horror at the sight but the sudden crash of the ship sent him flying. Waking up to see himself in a hammock and with a fuzzy feeling in his hand, Haiku regained consciousness.

Returning to reality, Haiku looked up from the fire.

"Well obviously yours and our goal is to find the saboteurs. I don't intend to sit here freezing to death while our enemy thrives all around us." snapped Haiku.

"I am sorry Aenarin...I am a little on edge for...well you know..." sighed Haiku, holding up his bandaged hand.

Looking back towards the fire, Haiku felt his insides melting with tears. All he wanted to do was get home to his family.

"By the way, my name is Haiku." sniffed Haiku holding back tears.

_________________
Saldrimek Xenan - WS6 / S4 / T3 / D5 / I3

Equipment: Executioners Axe (Rune of Beastslaying - Heroic Killing Blow), 2 Scimitars (Rune of Speed - Always Strike First), Dagger, Rune Branded Leather Armour, Executioner Helm, Fine Set of Throwing Knives (x4)
Inventory: Amulet of Darkness, Poison Vials x7, Deadly Poison Vials x8
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 163
Skills: Ambidexterity, Frenzy, Two Weapon Fighting, Ride
Class: Khainite


Wed Oct 24, 2007 6:05 am
Profile
Noble
User avatar

Joined: Sun Dec 17, 2006 12:08 pm
Posts: 455
Post 
An elf at the perimeter of the fire stood up. He was dressed in Shade fashion,and like a shade armed with one longsword and carrying a repeater crossbow. There was a disfiguring gash down the center of his face, but other then that he appeared unharmed.

"I am Shadow Dark, Bloodshade. I will offer my commiserations to any who lost friends or family in the crash, and a warning to the saboteurs. They will not survive."

_________________
Hi, i'm Shadow Dark. I spend my time teaching dragons the difference between their food and the slaves that bring it in


Wed Oct 24, 2007 9:06 am
Profile
Highborn
User avatar

Joined: Sat Mar 10, 2007 10:08 am
Posts: 655
Location: The land of Oz
Post 
Demendred looked slowly over the others. Some of them were responsable for making this horrable trip even worse. He decided he better say something, "Greeting to you all, my name is Demendred, not much of a name I know, buts its all I got. I didn't even want to be a part of this expidition, I got caught steeling and was given the option of the noose or the armed service, you can all guess what I picked. Thats right the noose but the guard was a little hard of hearing so I ended up on the ark. Next thing I know, its crashing and I end up a suspect." He sat back down slowly and hovered over the fire possesivly.

_________________
"I have this magic sword, it kills people when you stick it in them"


Wed Oct 24, 2007 11:12 am
Profile WWW
Executioner
User avatar

Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2007 5:48 pm
Posts: 177
Location: On a ship in a little glass bottle trying to figure out how I got here
Post 
"Hey, i don't know about you guys but i came along for some good old fashioned high end looting, so if you don't mind, i believe that there's some pretty good loot just lying around" dark elf male with garishly dyed bright green hair gets up and struts off into the wreckage where there seems to be a lot of gold leaf covered rubble

_________________
Thus will it come to pass.
The dying leader will know
the truth of the opera house.
The missing three will give you the five
who have come from the home of the 13th.
You are the harbinger of death, kara thrace.
You will lead them all to their end.


Wed Oct 24, 2007 3:08 pm
Profile
Shade
User avatar

Joined: Sat Feb 25, 2006 12:33 am
Posts: 103
Location: In yur panntree eetin yur cheatoes
Post 
Aenarin, always quick to anger, shouted, "There will be plenty of time to loot when demons are clawing your eyes out and feasting on our corpses, until then we must stay on the topic. Now if someone did sabotage the Ark, how did they get this "Portal Amulet" into the coven chamber? I can't say to understand anything about magic but would that mean there is a traitorous sorceress?"


Wed Oct 24, 2007 4:07 pm
Profile
Malekith's Best Friend
User avatar

Joined: Tue Oct 26, 2004 5:34 pm
Posts: 1467
Location: Portsmouth, England
Post 
A tall dark elf; wearing only black robes, and a black scarf concealing all but his eyes strolled and sat on the floor, "my name is Kurlan, i am a skilled beastmaster, let us hope we can find those responsible before it is too late".

_________________
i cant seem to make friends! add me to msn you losers!

Kurlan the violent (trainee of khaine)

WS: 3
S:5
T:4
D:5
I:2

two short swords, dagger, 4 throwing knives, 500 gold coins, unarmed combat skill

Group 17 Mod


Wed Oct 24, 2007 4:10 pm
Profile
Dark Artist
User avatar

Joined: Wed Jan 03, 2007 4:16 pm
Posts: 1091
Location: Where you'd least expect
Post 
"A fine start for the trip, indeed", a hoarse voice said from seemingly nowhere.

An elf with dark rims around his eyes, and hair that had once been coal black now turning grey, walked from the shadows of the crates like a, well, shadow. He was wearing loose black robes that swirled around his bony frame as he walked. A finely crafted sword could hardly be seen flashing in the crevices of the cloak, and a small crossbow pistol was also hanging from his belt. He sat down, putting his fingertips together, glancing over them with his piercing eyes. He was quiet for a while, during which he glared quickly around the group. He broke the silence with a soft chuckle.

"When I first stepped aboard that ship I did not expect to see the mighty structure in small pieces and me sitting around a campfire on the beach of one of the most dangerous places in the world." He kept a short pause.

"What would be happier? I could almost thank the saboteurs, I have never liked the sea and some action to the voyage like this is welcome. However I am sorry for the owners of the vessel, and it shall be a pleasure to finish up the bastards who did this.

I might seem very suspicious because of talking like this without revealing my name- my bad, for I have gotten used to not telling my name to those I work for. However, my name is Belcar Kalad, and I am a shade, like that Shadow Dark over there. Well, I cannot take the Shade honour of being born to a Shade family, but I was found from the wilderness by a Shade clan when I was a kid, and I was grewn by them. My unthankful parents had left me there.

I grew up in the wilderness, eating roots and half-raw self-hunted meat. So, being wrecked to this kind of place is actually an enhancement to my life."


Wed Oct 24, 2007 4:14 pm
Profile
Modest Member
User avatar

Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 4:15 pm
Posts: 2446
Location: Somewhere in Denmark
Post 
Belial looked round at the assembled elves. So, it was time for presentations... He stood up. His sea-dragon cloak wrapped tightly around him, conceling most of the delicate armor, was a clear sign to everybody around the fire, as was his hard expression, and slightly curved blade.

"I am Belial, corsair of occupation, and, it seems, newly appointed officer of rank. I have little to tell of my background... I have sailed for most of my life, ever since my noble(here, he made no attempt at hiding the sarcasm) family turned their backs on me, unwilling to pay for a lazy son. Yes. That is about it. Sailing. You could say that I am the opposite of Belcar, in that I love the sea. And I think that is all I have to say for now."

Belial sat back down, running a hand through his silvery, white, long hair. To those around the campfire that looked at him closely, it was apparant that he possessed delicate features, and a slightly haughty manner. This corsair was, despite his humble occupation, a noble by birth, and his many years as a seafarer could not hide it completely.


Wed Oct 24, 2007 4:42 pm
Profile
Highborn
User avatar

Joined: Sat May 21, 2005 7:33 am
Posts: 637
Location: Belgium, the only country where surrealism is a way of life.
Post 
Sleek Darrez huddled a bit deeper in the thick fur cloak he found himself with after the improvised landing. It was dark and cold, he was hungry and the company was about the only colourful thing around in miles. He just sat there, taking in all information Lynthia dessiminated and then he just watched the others start off proceedings by a summary introduction. Numbed, he listened to their words until he realized Sleek Doral’s wise words :

Speak up, even when others don’t want to hear it…oh, and wear a helmet when they don’t.

He never understood that last part but it didn’t matter. Sleek took his turn to rise up and introduce himself.

"I am Sleek Darrez and come from the house of…well…Sleek."
This gaff made him come up with his own set of wise words.

Better be silent and let them believe you are a fool rather then speak up and remove all doubt.

"Anyway, I am certain that enough competent and loyal officers are presented here to root out this source of dissent, not to mention threat to our very lives. However, it isn’t by cowering in the shades and hiding behind a mask of silence that we will survive this ‘arena’. No, only by actively participating, listening and thinking for oneself can we hope to end this debacle and show to one and all that we shine in the darkest of times."

Sleek took his seat again, leaving the proverbial floor to the next hapless victim of circumstances to take it.

_________________
Great minds think alike.
So if you want diversity, try morons.


Wed Oct 24, 2007 4:49 pm
Profile
Highborn

Joined: Thu Apr 21, 2005 4:52 pm
Posts: 796
Post 
Ashnari poked his head out from under his recently 'acquired' shelter of a large, wooden casket stuffed with pillows. Nobody really knew where he'd found it, nor the frog leg the runty little elf was chewing; he was covered in scars, this one, and had reputedly once been logistics officer in a previous expedition like this before being badly savaged by an angry Cold One.
Or perhaps it had just been jealous of his frog legs. Anyway, the neurotic former logistics officer decided that he was definitely cursed from something. He shuddered at the thought of having to actually eating anything native here, and clutched his frog leg close to his chest.

"Ahem. Let us all skip the, ah, the... introductions and do this. First things first, we must guess and provoke reaction. This is elementary to all warfare; to find out what your enemy's like, you must encourage him or her or, well, it, to come out in the open and hop about. Now, let us guess. Guessity guess."

He pondered for a while, his face pinching somewhat.

"Hm. Can't think of any good reason to guess anyone in particular, so I'll just roll me a die, then."
Miraculously and somewhat unnervingly, a seventeen-sided die appeared in midair despite its geometric and gravitational impossibility. He rolled it. It turned up at 6. He hastily rolled it again, and looked up with a beam.
"I vote: LordAnubis to stir things up a bit."

_________________
General Kala wrote:
...reasons for taking Dark Riders are secondary to their unparallelled ability to rush up and shout "nah na na-naah nah", escape, and do it again...

Image


Wed Oct 24, 2007 5:00 pm
Profile
Modest Member
User avatar

Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 4:15 pm
Posts: 2446
Location: Somewhere in Denmark
Post 
Belial, eyeing the strange little elf, raised an eyebrom in humour. At least this would present some good sport. He had dreaded the council would be a drab affair, so much like the intrigues he had hated in this family. He made a subtle smile. If there was going to be action, he would be part of it.

"We have found our first winner, I guess!", he exclaimed.

"First of to the gallows, Lord Anubis."

Vote: LordAnubis


Wed Oct 24, 2007 5:08 pm
Profile
Dark Rider

Joined: Sat Oct 25, 2003 6:22 pm
Posts: 125
Post 
Glancing up at the sound of her name, the Druchii woman shrugged and went back to brushing dust off the simple grey robes that she wore before standing and stepping forward to join the bulk of the attending officers.


"I'm Zenovia of no House in particular, researcher for the Witch King and whoever else I'm sent to work for also apparently now an officer. While I am sure that it would be nice to start the day with a nice refreshing murder, it would be less than productive in this case. There is no evidence for anyone of us to be an infiltrator, although I am certain that they are present. Better to wait until there is some way to see the truth behind the lies as randomly executing loyal servants of His Dark Majesty is not the best idea for our survival out here. Leaving aside the possible implications of being so eager to throw baseless accusations around, I will refrain from voting for the moment and I urge others to follow suit until everyone has introduced themselves. After all, some are yet to speak."

She sat down again, a mirthless smirk appearing on her face as she glanced around.

"Besides, if we are going to choose who is to die by random means, we should go by the first result, hmm? Which, I believe, would be you, oh nameless lover of frogs."

_________________
Image


Wed Oct 24, 2007 5:25 pm
Profile
Shade
User avatar

Joined: Sat Feb 25, 2006 12:33 am
Posts: 103
Location: In yur panntree eetin yur cheatoes
Post 
"Quite the conundrum really, we randomly vote someone to death and more likely than not condemn an innocent, or wait until night for someone to be weeded out. Both are largely unacceptable but just casually eliminating those whom we do not even suspect sounds suspiciously like something a chaosling would opt to do. Therefore I choose to [/b] Vote Ashnari Doomsong [b] (OOC) This might not be bolded I can't remember how to do that, it's been a while.) Belial you find yourself in a sticky situation as well for supporting this toad so quickly, I'd be careful from now on if I were you."


Wed Oct 24, 2007 5:41 pm
Profile
Modest Member
User avatar

Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 4:15 pm
Posts: 2446
Location: Somewhere in Denmark
Post 
"You are correct, Aenarin, that randomly voting someone to death is likely to cause an innocent death, but we need to move on from the pretty introductions, eh? We need action, we need something to bicker over, so we might better find the real culprit..."
Belial looked at Aenarin, with s glimpse of humour in his eyes. It was clear he was not taking the situation too seriously. Or was it merely a facade?

"The toad(carefully enounciated) might be bat f*** insane, but he is doing something, igniting the sparks, and we need to act. But perhaps you are right to propose patience. I will not, however, withdraw my vote, before I hear of a more likely suspect. That is any suspect, really..."

He then made a gesture towards those yet to speak.

"But please! Do speak up! We would love to hear who you are! If we are to kill kinsmen, we might as well get to know each other first."


Wed Oct 24, 2007 5:53 pm
Profile
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
User avatar

Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Posts: 4641
Location: I am the voice inside your head
Post 
"My my arnt we all keen for the off?" A small Druchii sat in the shadows of an overhang away from the fire, despit his chields size his voice was strangly rich and deep. He wore no sword nor any visible weapon only long and tatterd dark blue robes "My name is Zaniev, I am what ever looks the best option to me at the time. Needless to say therfore I did not volentier for this particular outing. Anyway to bussiness. So far we have but one peice of evidence, the portal amulet. So first I will ask a question of our resident sorceress, could a non magic user have activated it? If not (as I suspect) my only vote is that all Druchii with magical ability be locked away and kept under gaurd at the start of every knight so that we might at least attempt to prevent loss of life and gain furthur insight. Certainly this will advance our cause furtur than voting at random. I heard tell of a court in Naggrond reasently that tried that in an attempt to weed out Tzeentch worshipors and it did not go to plan." With that the tiny Druchii folded back into the shadows of the overhang.

_________________
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation


Wed Oct 24, 2007 6:11 pm
Profile
Highborn

Joined: Thu Apr 21, 2005 4:52 pm
Posts: 796
Post 
Ashnari smiled happily as he was accused and even more so as Zaniev voiced his suggestion.
"It might pay off to remember where, exactly, we are. It's not as though magic is very hard to come by."
As if in direct response to this, one of his frog legs seized the opportunity and fled, joyfully ignored by the little bespectacled elf.
"And furthermore, we'll be needing our magicians if we're to escape from this mess. Can you believe the logistical troubles involved in getting what remains of this thing to fly without magic?"
Apparently, Ashnari could, as he shuddered briefly before continuing.
"Anyway, LordAnubis' reaction is a typical one, be it from an enemy or an innocent. Lash out, attempt to take someone down with you whom you either know to be innocent or believe to be guilty. Let us now press the attack and seize the prize, lest the Slaaneshi Among Us end up triumphant."
At the end, he stood to his full, unimpressive height and brandished his half-devoured frog-leg as if it were a battle-axe. He coughed discretely and sat back down.

_________________
General Kala wrote:
...reasons for taking Dark Riders are secondary to their unparallelled ability to rush up and shout "nah na na-naah nah", escape, and do it again...

Image


Wed Oct 24, 2007 6:28 pm
Profile
Modest Member
User avatar

Joined: Mon Nov 15, 2004 4:15 pm
Posts: 2446
Location: Somewhere in Denmark
Post 
Belial looked at Zaniev, impressed. This time, Belial spoke without his usual smirking.

"You surprise me Zaniev. I had feared this would be meeting of bickering and intrigue, and you present logic and straightforwardness. I support this oppinion."


Wed Oct 24, 2007 6:30 pm
Profile
Prophet of Tzeentch
Prophet of Tzeentch
User avatar

Joined: Fri May 19, 2006 3:51 pm
Posts: 4641
Location: I am the voice inside your head
Post 
"Anshari I do not sugest that we sumarily execute the magic users mearly that they be gaurded at night, I am well aware that we need them though I think you are nieve if you truly think we will be flying out of here."

_________________
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

Arch Deacon of the RPG forum
Gentleman of Moderation


Wed Oct 24, 2007 9:21 pm
Profile
Cold One Knight
User avatar

Joined: Tue Feb 06, 2007 9:05 pm
Posts: 231
Location: Denmark
Post 
An until now silent Druchii rose to his feet and spoke. "For those of you who I have not yet been introducted to me. I am Genoreth Nynt, I am a priest and servant of our great god Khaine, Lord of Murder."

Genoreth paused for a moment looking around to the crowd.

"Our Lord, the merciless slayer, would smile at our ruthlessness if we tortured and killed one of our number to get the information we need to be able to find and slaughter the guilty.
But before we do that, I would like to hear" Looking to Belial and Ashnari "if you really do not have anything besides a random diceroll to support sending Lord Anubis to the good captain."

_________________
Andreas


Wed Oct 24, 2007 9:47 pm
Profile
Cold One Knight
User avatar

Joined: Sat Sep 29, 2007 12:49 am
Posts: 229
Post 
Aleraen shook his head, "And how do we determine who has such capabilities. We are a race with latent magical ability; do you plan to lock us all up? No, I find myself more inclined to agree with frog-face. I say we off someone, and I'm inclined to vote for you, Zaniev."

"While it is highly circumspect that Frogger should be the first to accuse, it is also equally strong a statement that you should wish to partisian our ranks. What if we do imprison our sorceresses, and we are attacked again? We are hardly an army, and we sit in the middle of what is essentially enemy territory: we need every tool we can get, and that is precisely what those sorceresses are."

"While I am not ready to declare my vote, I refuse to allow someone to divide us and then conquer. You tread dangerous ice, Zaniev." Aleraen crossed his arms, a patronizing smile on his lips.

_________________
Aleraen Gleamfollower
High-Consort of Army Wide Hatred
<Sirist> So you won't lose me. I'm still around. I'm just in you, and in everyone I've known.
Image


Wed Oct 24, 2007 10:01 pm
Profile
Malekith's Personal Guard

Joined: Mon Jan 15, 2007 7:57 pm
Posts: 803
Location: Hell
Post 
"If randomally executing members of our gathering," a small, weedy elf shivering in thick brown robes spoke up, "then why not start with yourself Ashnari? You have just as much chance of being the traitor as anyone here, and have already displayed magical prowess."

_________________
Punishment leads to Fear. Fear leads to Obedience. Obedience leads to Freedom. Therefore, Punishment leads to Freedom.

Kuyoz Nightkiller
WS: 4 S:3 T:3 D:4 I:4
Repeater Crossbow, Short Sword, Shade Cloak, Light Armour
5 throwing daggers, 90gc


Wed Oct 24, 2007 10:02 pm
Profile WWW
Slave (off the Altar)
User avatar

Joined: Tue Oct 16, 2007 4:50 am
Posts: 12
Location: East of SF
Post 
"It is disheartening to hear one of our own recommending the random assassination. I daresay... if we resort to random killings, than we are no better than the Slaaneshi. Therefor logically speaking, Ashnari is the only choice as of yet.

It is by no means a crime to kill blasphemer."

_________________
Image


Thu Oct 25, 2007 2:10 am
Profile WWW
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Reply to topic   [ 267 posts ]  Go to page 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 11  Next

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
Powered by phpBB® Forum Software © phpBB Group
Designed by ST Software