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mr_e_s

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Posts posted by mr_e_s

    Lord of Azure Flame: Chat

    in General OOC

    Posted

    Yeah, it's certainly not the pains of running the RP that's getting to you. You don't even have Kanami pointing out your shortcomings any more. The only way you could have things any easier is if you didn't have to change topics all the time.

    Shu's Quest

    in Roleplay

    Posted

    Stark

    Stark heard Fargo loudly chatting about something, as usual. At least he'd stuck around. That was something. Stark turned his head meekly and saw Jeph being all Stoic, and Rutem helping some doctor keep a thrashing gladiator from the other team down so he could be treated. Dom was talking about...something with some guy Stark didn't know. Striking up a deal? Eltiar was...gone. Stark only vaguely remembered something about him leaving. Or maybe he'd dreamed it. Not that he had the presence of mind to really remember his dreams past the pain. The looks on the mages' and doctors' faces were encouraging, though. They didn't seem worried like they did when he first woke up. Now they were just finishing up. One was even quietly talking to him, telling him that there would always be a fairly noticeable burn mark on his shoulder, and that the wound would still hurt for a few days, and itch for a while after that, but that he should be fine. Stark was still squinting through the pain to be able to see at all, but he remembered all too well what it felt like before that. He was thankful for this pain, and vaguely made a note that he should start traveling with a proper healer.

    Stark made to sit up, but didn't quite manage that Herculean feat. With a little help from his saviors, he was able to come to a somewhat respectable sitting position. This was actually welcome, as it gave the healers more access to the back of his shoulder, and they seemed to be working faster and more confidently now, worrying more about the long term appearance and comfort of the wound then the immediate threat of it. Stark was going to make it. This time, at least.

    With his new found ability to look around the room, Stark took in his surroundings. There were more patients still in the beds then he thought. Maybe he just needed more urgent attention then them. Indeed, as he had the back of his shoulder tended to, two of the mages and one of the doctors left to tend to others, with another two doctors and a mage already doing rounds. Stark took not that Dom and Fargo were chatting with that smae guy, still doing something... Stark din't have the focus to really listen in or eavesdrop,. Better to get the conversation to him, so he could know what was going on. "We pick up a new guy while I was out? We gotta split the winnings with him, too?"

    Shu's Quest

    in Roleplay

    Posted

    Stark

    His current dream was one of flight. He was soaring over the countryside, below, two large trolls were massacring a group of merchants. Minutes later, he passed over the town of Alabaste, only better somehow. The wind felt amazing, like it wasn't even wind, but some kind of healing spell cast by mother nature. He looked down again. He saw monsters. Lots of monsters. They were attacking... everything. Stark kept his eyes to the sky, not wanting to watch the carnage below. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him, though. He looked down to see Oakheim burning. He recognized his own running form fleeing the town, leaving a child to die. The kid was simultaneously torn apart by wolves and burning to death. Stark could hear the screams as though he were right back there beside the child. He wanted to help, but he found himself unable to turn around, or even slow down or descend. A new wave of panic kicked in. Why couldn't he control the path of his flight, where was he going?

    The clouds ahead loomed over the horizon, fast approaching. Ominous bolts of lightning accompanied by deafening thunderclaps wove into Stark a sense of dread and hopelessness. He couldn't even turn himself around, let alone his direction. He struggled feebly against it, the winds now cutting into his face and arms as the storm drew nearer and nearer.Bright blue flashes growing ever closer threatened to strike him down if he approached any closer, their bellow now almost immediately after the flash, and loud enough to drown out all rational thought. Stark's struggling against this fate he knew was coming was wild, but still hopeless. There was no avoiding it, why was he even trying? Even realizing that, he couldn't let himself accept it. He needed to get through this somehow, to find a way to-

    A bolt came down and struck him. The pain was more then he could he imagined beforehand. Every fiber of his being screamed out in unison. He wanted to die. Just to have it be over with. He thought that that's what was happening. Until his eyes opened again. He was in a bed. In a fancy room. Likely that of a mansion. He was alone. No.... No wait, he wasn't alone. There was someone else. He could hear them breathing very lightly. They didn't want to be seen, they wanted to remain hidden for some reason. Stark tried to look around, but found, like in the air, his ability to move hindered. At his attempt, though, his companion in the room stirred as well. For someone who had tried to remain undetected, they seemed to not care any more. Indeed, Stark saw their face appear upside down, leaning over him from the head of the bed.

    "Hiya."

    Stark's eyes opened again. There were three medical sages focusing healing magic on his arm. It seemed most of the other patients from the fight had either been given up on or fixed to an adequate degree but Stark, for he had somewhat full attention on him now. A medical doctor was applying some salve to his shoulder as well, while another inspected the various cuts and bruises on his body, applying something different to them. Stark suspected it would have hurt a lot, if not for the much greater pain in his shoulder. It was a good enough sign that the sages were working on him though, he wasn't a lost cause. He didn't see any of his... Well, he couldn't call them his friends. He wasn't sure they would be traveling with him any more, either... Maybe they'd all left him, seen him as useless with the damage he'd taken. It wouldn't be the first time. He remembered when he lost his eye. A lot of his old friends stopped calling him for gigs. Eventually they just stopped calling on him altogether. Maybe it was about time he settled down. He clearly couldn't cut this lifestyle any more.

    Dear Lightkratos his shoulder hurt.

    Shu's Quest Feedback

    in Feedback

    Posted

    Final post of the RP

    Stark finally defeated Shotaro. It was over. He was dead. Things could finally get back to normal. Stark, Niles, Yuki, Laterite, Lucifer, and Fargo threw a small celebration party for themselves at the newly reconstructed Oakheim pub. it was a smally affair, as no one but them had known what they had accomplished this day, how closde the world had come to... Stark didn't even want to think about ti any more. He just wanted to get back to Lily and try his hand at a quiet life. Not like a blind man can really have much of a future as a mercenary anyways.

    Fargo and Yuki were already making out in the corner. Niles and Laterite were arguing philosophy in the corner while Lucifer argued with himself. Stark was learning to identify by hearing pretty well already. That was why when no one else noticed, Stark had.

    "...Shu?" The jester stopped drinking mid sip at the call of his name.

    "Oh, hey Stark. What's up, long time no see, where've you been?"

    "But...I saw you...you were dead!"

    "I was? I don't remember being dead..."

    "Huh..."

    "Yeah..."

    THE END

    Shu's Quest Sign-ups

    in Roleplay

    Posted

    The world and mechanics is still in flux/being made. This RP is a practice in the group making a world as opposed to playing in the creator's world. Here's a small timeline of what's happened so far though.

    Oakheim: SPOILERS, SHU DIES. Stark finds a cube on the ground, fights some debt collectors and meets Fargo, the two go to the bar and run into Dom, Jeph, and Rutem (though I was hoping to avoid meeting in a tavern, but w/e). All of a sudden, goblins, everywhere (Also, enter: Kyle)! Also you know, wolves and skeletal archers. Oh right, and a giant fire elemental. Shit gets crazy, yo. place burns up like a spy what just facestabbed a pyro. Guys get out of dodge, and fight some straggling monsters. BUT WAIT! Fire elemental still around, outside of the town, ready to make people popcorn. Except it's not so alive as frozen into oblivian. Hello and goodbye Eltiar. Stark convinces everyone to escort the few survivors to Alabaste. Except Fargo has been kidnapped!

    MEANWHILE: The Brute kills Baron Oakheim very very dead, and meets up with Prophet, who is controlling the monsters. They're lookning for the cube, The Brute sees the fire elemental and scolds Prophet, telling him they'll have to search the rubble to find the cube.

    Alabaste: Place isn't friendly to foreigners, prices are crazy, people can't afford food unless they're a citizen. This leads a lot of peasants to try and win in the colliseum to have money for food. Fargo also escapes daringly and with a catchy theme song. Kyle can't stand that and wrangeles the group into fighting instead of the refugees, and splitting the winnings. This is fine, until Kyle knocks out a mage who just finished a summoning spell, and now there's untamed gargoyules fying around killing everyo-no wait, Kyle killed the mage and the Gargoyles dissipa-OHGODLIONS. Fargo throws mystery meat sauce aroudn and Kyle bravely charges in and gets eaten. Lions are killed and everything is great foreve... Stark got hit by lightning. God damnit... Wait, Eltiar is back! KICKASS MAGIC DUEL! Mr. Lightning, who was looking for the cube, be dead, but Eltiar ain't looking too hot either. Stark collapses, Jeph does something very important probably. Stark hallucinates, when he wakes up, Eltiar is gone...again.

    And there we are, recouping in arena med type place.

    Shu's Quest

    in Roleplay

    Posted

    Stark

    Two large trolls were killing merchants, they had several arrows embedded in their skin, and the blood of archer's running along their fists. Assorted weaponry lay about them, some of it with arms still clutching it, bodies were less likely to still be attached to the arms. The remaining survivors seemed to be mainly comprised of non-combatants, the guards had already been dispatched with extreme prejudice. Now the only people they were killing were unarmed peddlers, doing their best to file, but unable to match the speed of the long strides of the trolls. A few were getting away, the ones smart enough to scatter, but splitting up in the wilderness rarely resulted in anything but death. The situation was hopeless.

    Let it be, then. He'd seen hopeless before.

    He had managed to get back up, despite a stray punch early on in the encounter knocking him into a tree, and cracking several of his ribs. He wouldn't just accept it. He'd die fighting. Stark picked his lance up off the ground back where he had been punched, and charged at one of the trolls, the larger of the two, who had been happily picking up merchants and throwing them into their faster companions. The troll, 14 feet tall, took a second to realize the lance that had just been shoved through it's gut. It very angrily lashed out at Stark, with a few large, sweeping blows, clearly not strategically planned. They seemed more like attempts to swat at an insect that had just stung then an effort against a real opponent. His mistake. Or it would have been if Stark had managed to get the lance out of his skin before having to roll away from the two foot wide fist coming at him before the giant started moving. He was unarmed.

    Wait, there were plenty of arms lying around...so to speak. Nothing looking like the halberd stile of lance he usually used, but plenty of javelins and swords. Those would do in a pinch. Stark hurled a javelin at the big SOB, it didn't penetrate skin, instead bouncing harmlessly off. Stark's javelin form was less than perfect. He'd probably do better with a sword. Or at least, he would if he could get one from a dead man's grasp. For a while, it was a morbidly comical sight, the one of Stark trying to wrestle the hilt from the already icy grip of a severed arm, flailing it about. He did get it eventually though, and felt more comfortable with it then a throwing weapon. He found out very quickly the little sword wasn't suited for combat with the troll, though. It barely scratched at the creatures arms while it took swings. It didn't even take note that Stark was fighting back. Stark angrily thrust it aside, wishing he could just grab his halberd back, but knowing he wouldn't get close enough without a decent weapon like his halberd to keep him safe getting there. Irony was a cruel mistress.

    Stark backed up, trying to buy time to think of something better to do, but he should have spent more time checking behind him, if he had, he probably wouldn't have tripped over the body of Nolan, kind of a pompous knight from Alabaste. He was an alright guy, once you got to know him. Not that it helped him stay alive. If Stark had the time to really analyze it, he might have thought himself a bad person for grabbing Nolan's broadsword with a quick boot to his dead fingers as a prompt to let it go. In the moment though, it just seemed like the thing to do, and that was all that mattered.

    It felt much better in Stark's hands then the little sword. It had some real heft to it, like his halberd. He could see why Nolan was so fond of it. It had a much smoother flow to it then Stark's Halberd, and carried enough weight to really hurt pretty much anything it hit. He liked it. Not that he really took much note of it while the trolls were both now focusing on him, the large one giving an angry growl ordering the other to come help with this annoying human. The merchants were all running away now. Still scattering. Idiots. If they were smart they would run together, most lesser monsters wouldn't attack a group if it had enough numbers but a large group running in such scattered pockets may as well have lunch tattooed all over them.

    Stark had bigger problems right now, an easy 1800 pounds of them.Stark figured his only chance was to get one goblin to smack the other, to get between them and force a friendly fire hit. Unfortunately for Stark, the trolls weren't as stupid as he though, when he tried it, one backed off and the other went full bore swinging at him. Fortunately for Stark, the troll definitely did notice when he struck back with his new broadsword. He was wounding it, and that gave him new confidence. His first that was to try and scale the arm of the thing, get to the top of it, but that was dumb and would never work. Instead he opted for a less direct road to the top. Or rather, a road to the bottom...

    He charged inward, past a crushing blow from above, to where the halberd was still lodged in it's stomach, the troll, figuring he was trying to reclaim his weapon, made to top him. But he wasn't trying to recover his weapon. It could stay there, for all he cared. Instead he kept running, in between the creatures legs, and took a two handed swipe at one of the creature's heels, or just above it, at the Achilles tendon. He wasn't even sure if trolls had one, but as it turned out, they did. The troll dropped to one knee, the other getting notably angry and ready to come help. But not before Stark slashed the other tendon and took the larger troll to the ground and out of the fight. He ran across the fallen body, still dodging wild pain-filled swings of the arms, and plunged his sword into the monster's neck. The struggling got more intense, enough to toss Star off (this time he had the sense to hold tightly to his weapon and take it with him). Soon it stopped, though. The troll was dead. Stark took a second to appreciate what he had just done, but it turned out to be a second too long. The other troll hadn't stopped to mourn his fallen companion, opting instead to take advantage of the distraction and deal with Stark.

    The troll had Stark in between both of his giant hands, crushing the life slowly out of the spearman turned swordsman. Enjoying it, taking it's time. It knew there was no one else around to help him, and he had proven to be quite a nuisance. Trolls didn't let nuisances die fast. They got to feel every excruciating moment before finally getting the sweet release of death. Excuciating was a good word for it too. Stark was blind with pain. He couldn't remember where he was, or why he felt all this pain. He had no idea what lead to this course of events, he would be hard pressed to give his name if asked right now. He was completely lost in the vice grip of the troll. Death was clod, very cold. Icy, actually...

    Wait, it didn't hurt any more. What was going on? Stark dared to open his eyes, figuring maybe he was dead, that Lightkratos had spared him those last agonizing moments of life. The icy corpse of the troll about 10 yards from him told him differently. There was a man not too far from him, looking around, it seemed, checking for any other survivors.

    "Who... Who are you?" Stark barely managed to sputter out.

    ~~~

    "Stark." Someone's voice was calling him, or just talking to him, not really calling. "Stark." Friendly voice. "Stark, I've got to go. I've started something that I'll have to see through now. It would just get you and your friends killed if you tried to come along. Please understand." Stark didn't respond, he just slipped back into unconsciousness.

    The Quest for nothing

    in Roleplay

    Posted

    Shu

    Huh. cameras. This setting was mroe futuristic then he was used to. He probably should have used some form of gun instead. But on the other hand, if he chose guns, and it turned out to be medieval England, he'd probably have been burnt at the stake, and he wasn't getting burnt at the stake again.

    Just then, for no adequately explored reason, a ghoul bust into the room! Shu did what any warrior would do in this situation. "Good luck with that, guy! Shu retreated further into the cell, away from the dhoul's reach, leaving whoever else to deal with it. Live first, heroics fifth.

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