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To Heir is Human III, Playground 1 |
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| jack cloudy |
Apr 26 2008, 09:37 PM
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Master

Joined: 11-February 06
From: In a cold place.

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Flint Ironwood, Bruma
It was a normal day at the Bruma Siege Division. Brids whistling in the trees on each side of the field, a crisp breeze and above all, creaking wood and earshattering explosion. “Alright, water!” Flint Ironwood ordered, almost sounding bored. He had come to expect this result and he realized that was a bad thing. He shook his head as he watched the burning wreck of their latest mishap.
“Flogir isn’t going to like this.” He muttered to himself while the siegecrew formed a line and began to throw buckets of water on the fire. The aging Breton waited till the fire had been smothered before he dared approach the siege engine. From afar, he hadn’t been able to see just what went wrong. One moment, they pulled the rope that triggered the catapult, the next the whole thing exploded. “At least no one has been injured this time. Looks like all the precautions are working. I still wished we could get this to work though.”
Up close, he failed to see anything that could provide a clue towards the cause of the latest disaster. “Perhaps we just tried a bad canister. Not enough sand, perhaps? Or maybe the bolts let go too soon. Well geez, it could be anything really.” Flint wondered. He picked up a shard of glass from the ground but quickly released it again. He scowled and licked his burned fingers. “Crap it all. Will this never work?”
Sorian, Colovian Highlands
“Your money or your life!” The Imperial bandit yelled at the Redguard and jumped onto the middle of the route. At the same time, his partner jumped on the road behind the Redguard . They both eyed their victim warily. They knew the reputation of Redguards, how they’d elevated swordplay to a central part of their culture. A Redguard on the battlefield was one of the worst opponents one could face.
But this Redguard was young, inexperienced. Even culture couldn’t substitute years of battle. They believed they could take the Redguard, yet they remained wary. “I said your money or your life, boy!” The Imperial repeated. The Redguard gave him an angry glare in return. “Tell me, have you been preying on travellers for a long time?” He asked demandingly. The Imperial saw this as his chance to intimidate the young Redguard. “For years I’ve been the plague of these lands! Even the legion is fears me so much they don’t dare send any patrols after me! It would be smart for you to give up your money and walk away unharmed.”
The Redguard however, was not intimidated. He drew a curved blade with his right hand in a flourish and aimed it directly at the bandit’s heart. At the same time, he used his other hand to release the straps on his backpack which fell to the ground. “My name is Sorian! Sorian the Ansei! If you are the plague, then I shall be your cure! Drop your sword and walk away from the path of crime! Repent, or face the souls of your victims in Oblivion!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The Imperial’s partner took the opportunity to attack the obviously distracted Redguard from behind. He raised his axe high above his head and prepared to send it into Sorian’s skull.
Two whispers shot through the sky and both bandits dropped dead, leaving the Redguard standing in dumbfounded confusion. “What is going on?” He thought. He then saw the feathered shafts of two bolts sticking out of the Imperial’s skull. Instantly, he looked from side to side, sword still held in front of him. “who’s there?! Show yourself!” He yelled.
Behind a bush just off the road, Vasha shook her head. “Foolish young man. If he doesn’t learn to watch his back, he’ll get killed.” She said to herself. “Nevertheless, we’ve dealt with the bandits that have been such a hassle since last week. There is no need for us to remain and get involved with him any further.” She tapped a ring she wore on her hand which began to glow in a deep green. “One…two…three.” Simultaneously, five pillars of black smoke erupted from behind various bushes.
Sorian saw the smoke and ran to the nearest bush. “Who are you?!” He asked, but no one was there.
OOC: Revan, just for your information. The ring Vasha used is something I've decided on as a communication device. Varying on the number of taps, it displays different colours. In this case, green meant 'retreat'. The rings are connected. If one glows, all the other ones will glow in the same colour. Vasha probably has multiple ones. One is connected to the ones her team wears, the other to perhaps other teams or the Narza'Tai main command? Colour codes should change regularly, just in case.
This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Apr 26 2008, 10:05 PM
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Fabulous hairneedle attack! I'm gonna be bald before I hit twenty.
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Replies(160 - 179)
| Dantrag |
Jul 20 2008, 10:16 PM
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Councilor

Joined: 13-February 05
From: The cellar of the fortress of the fuzz

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OOC: I wasn't sure if you had anything in mind as to what the noise should have been. If you don't like this let me know, and I'll edit.
Rann
Rann nodded when Indor held him back, understanding that the floor was likely trapped. The Ayleids themselves were long gone, but their traps lasted forever. Then a strange noise caught their attention. This time it was Rann who motioned for Indor to stop.
Keeping to the shadows and crouching low, he turned the corner. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he realized that they were in a large room. The main hall, possibly? Rann didn't pretend to know, he only speculated.
The noise turned out to have been a dremora. Rann froze for a moment, plastering himself against the wall as the dremora looked right in his direction. Rann could see the glowing red eyes. He held his breath and stood as still as a rock. He wasn't sure what he was going to do next; he wasn't even sure if it was possible to sneak up on a dremora unnoticed.
I guess we'll find out soon enough.
The dremora turned away. Rann saw his chance. Using the wall to push off of, he sprung into the air and landed on the dremora's back, knocking the otherworldly creature to the ground face first. Rann had reached around and slit its throat with a dagger before the thing ever hit the ground.
Rann crept back towards Indor, still wanting to be silent should anything else be hiding in the darkness. In his concentration, he carelessly forgot about the traps. He stepped on the raised section of the floor and found himself being propelled upwards at an alarming rate. He'd heard of the spike traps that were common in these ruins, so he hit the ground, making himself as flat as he could in hopes of avoiding ceiling spikes. He closed his eyes, and when the pillar stopped, Rann felt nothing. Looking up, he spotted a switch. Not wanting to test his luck any more, he didn't press it. He waited for the floor to descend once more and rejoined Indor in the entrance way.
"Dremora," he explained with a whisper before he pointed up to the ceiling where he just was, "There's also a switch up there."
Before any more explanations could be made, two atronachs made an appearance, heading straight for them. A flame and a storm atronach. Rann suddenly realized that by activating the trap accidentally, he had alerted the ruin's inhabitants.
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"Its when murder is justice that martyrs are made"
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| Olen |
Jul 21 2008, 11:15 PM
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Mouth

Joined: 1-November 07
From: most places

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Indor
For a moment fear froze him. It was a scene from his nightmares: deadra, the dark. The way Rann took out the dremora amazed Indor. “How?” he gasped, “How can they be here?” He tried to smother the memories they brought back.
When the trap triggered he snapped into action. He started forward then as the floor section fell he saw them. “Atronachs,” he said, fear chocked his voice, “Careful attacking them - you hurt yourself.”
The deadra closed on them. He tried to focus and muttered a spell under his breath. The fireball would have barely lit paper. He swore and leapt back desperately thinking. His poisons were useless. The fire atronach threw a fireball. He ducked, his dark skin almost unaffected, and ran at it. It was down to luck whether he set off any traps. He knew it was a long shot but if he could keep the deadra moving one of them might. Fortune favours the bold, he thought and threw a dart.
Mild pain exploded below his ear as the deadra growled and turned towards him. Cursing himself for nit taking his own advice he danced back from it. “How can they be here?” he called to Rann.
OOC: atronachs reflect damage a bit in oblivion, if you want to ignore this I can edit
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Look behind you and see an ever decreasing number of ghosts. Currently about 15.
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| minque |
Jul 21 2008, 11:37 PM
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Wise Woman

Joined: 11-February 05
From: Where I can watch you!!

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Brianna
Brianna noticed that Rahvin felt bad about Rann being a subject of conversation and that made her sad for him. She regretted she brought it up, and moved her chair closer to his.
"I'm so sorry, Rahvin my darling, I shouldn't have mentioned Rann. It's just that I also miss him"
She took his hand and kissed it.
He's alive, trust me darling Rahvin, he's alive I just know it, I...sort of know those things
Satyana
She also was aware of Rahvin's slight change of mood and decided to help out to take his mind of Rann.
"Monster huh?" she smiled "Well thinking about who's his grandpa it will certainly be a lil' monster"
"Well the baby is due to come in six months approximately, if everything is going as it should. I'm happy it doesn't show yet!"
Satyana went over to Rahvin and gave him a warm hug..
"I love you, father" she whispered in his ear
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Chomh fada agus a bhionn daoine ah creiduint in aif�iseach, leanfaidh said na n-aingniomhi a choireamh (Voltaire)Facebook
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| Soulseeker3.0 |
Jul 24 2008, 03:29 AM
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Master

Joined: 18-February 05
From: From "not where you are"-ville

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Amili
Amili found herself working her way through town in an attempt to get to Lokken Tavern. After all that happened today, a brandy or two kept looking better and better. Pushing open the door she viewed some familiar faces. Mostly the regulars to the bar, but also Issac and Satyana. Amili shrugged of an urge to confront them and, after a moment's hesitation, placed her helm on the bar and ordered up a brandy.
This post has been edited by Soulseeker3.0: Jul 24 2008, 03:29 AM
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(linky)
SKAThis was pretty unusual, because most children at his age wanted to become great warriors, known all through time as saviors of, well, anything - Toroabok
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| Dantrag |
Jul 25 2008, 05:01 AM
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Councilor

Joined: 13-February 05
From: The cellar of the fortress of the fuzz

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Rann
Rann glanced over to see how Indor was faring. In his brief glimpse, he saw that Indor and the flame atronach were separated by floor spikes.
Instead of continuing his previous offensive plan against the storm atronach, he merely shouted "Switch!" to Indor, hoping that he understood. He ran from the storm atronach and barreled into the flame atronach, knocking it face first into the spikes.
Unfortunately, such a daring move left him more vulnerable than ever. He'd lost his balance trying to avoid the spikes himself, and was sprawled out on the ground. On top of that his katana had fallen out of reach and his shirt was on fire, making it evident that he was in trouble. Rann rolled on the stone floor in an attempt to put out the flames, praying that he wouldn't set off any sort of trap. With the fire neutralized, Rann laid still for a moment to catch his breath. A large figure loomed over him, and Rann recognized it as the same storm atronach. Its foot rose to stamp out the young dunmer in front of him, and Rann realized that it was too late to do anything about it.
OOC: minque - i'll try to post w/ rahvin soon.
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"Its when murder is justice that martyrs are made"
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| Dantrag |
Jul 27 2008, 08:25 AM
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Councilor

Joined: 13-February 05
From: The cellar of the fortress of the fuzz

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Rahvin
"I love you too, Satyana," he said, hugging back. Rahvin was glad that things really seemed to be going well lately. For the first time in his life it seemed, there was a little bit of peace and quiet. He pushed back thoughts that told him it seemed a bit too quiet...
Rann
Rann was surprised when the foot above him seemed to disappear. Choosing not to question his luck any further, he sprung into action, retrieving his katana. He looked in Indor's direction and saw that his companion was entangled with the storm atronach. He approached the scene at a quick and steady pace, hoping to deal the killing blow while it was unaware of his presence.
OOC: I'm not really sure what happened in your post, Olen; did Indor cast a spell? I couldn't really tell, but I tried to reply the best I could anyway. If this doesn't make sense, let me know and I'll edit.
This post has been edited by Dantrag: Jul 27 2008, 08:26 AM
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"Its when murder is justice that martyrs are made"
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| Olen |
Jul 31 2008, 10:35 AM
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Mouth

Joined: 1-November 07
From: most places

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IndorIndor knew he was in trouble. The spell, if such it could be called, was part of a rite for controlling daedra during summoning. The atronach was already there and all it had done was annoy it further. And now he was stuck in a ground-fight with a monstrously strong mass of stone and lightning. He punched its face and grimaced as his knuckles met stone. The atronach tried to throw him off. He shifted his weight down and it grabbed him and pulled him in to crush him. He desperately reached into his shirt and pulled out a knife and held it out in front of him. With the help of the atronach’s own crushing embrace he drove the blade into its chest. Pain burst though his own and his head swam. OOC: sorry that last post of mine made so little sense, I edited out the bit which explained it.  Might as well finish mr. atronach off now This post has been edited by Olen: Jul 31 2008, 10:35 AM
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Look behind you and see an ever decreasing number of ghosts. Currently about 15.
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| Lord Revan |
Aug 17 2008, 07:43 PM
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Master

Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA

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Ian, Chorrol
The rain continued to fall on the streets of Chorrol as the sun was banished by the clouds. As the townspeople flitted from one location to another, one robed man strode calmly in the middle of the street, ignoring the rain drenching the outside of his crimson robes.
If he had to bet where his son and daughter-in-law were, Ian would gamble on the Lokken Tavern. In the cover of the entrance, the vampire gestured with his arm and a cloud of mist burst into existance as most of the moisture on his robes evaporated instantly. Fairly dry now, Ian opened the double doors and walked inside. The shower seemed to be doing well for the tavern's business, the waitress never missed a beat even when she was vastly outnumbered by customers. As he stood in the doorway, someone tossed an unopened bottle of wine to him.
The vampire deftly caught the bottle, scowling at it for a moment. Then he simply shrugged and looked around for his quarry.
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