RPing Index

I read somewhere that a prime reason to start a blog was that unlike posting on numerous message boards it gave you a better ability to archive your writings. Because you’d have complete control over them. Which, yeah, I can see that but, well, forums are teaming with people and I do so like to feel the Brownian motion every once in a while. Games are always more fun when you have some people playing with you. Anyway, I’ve started dabbling in roleplaying again and I like what I’m writing so far. So, I’m going to try something here and string my various posts together to see if they turn into something coherent. A story, if you will, told in installments and missing the other side of things.

I. -Thread: NaNo boards. My MC challenges your MC! Free for all RP combat!

-Date: December 2006~ongoing

-Chatacter: Endless Roth from Clans of the Highborn: One.

-Sheet:

Stats –

• Str
• Dex
• Arms
• CoW

Lines –

• armsmanship esp axes
• chivalry for defense/healing, speed buffs
• call of the wild for self-buffing and pet
• survival for defense/healing

Equipment -

• 5 axes - one max crit/max damage, the other max accuracy with lifesteal, one starstuff (avoids physical protection), two elemental - one lightning, the other fire.
• Throwing axes
• Sword+shield combo
• pet: wolf - fast, high damage
• Fire resistant shield (Firebane – absorbs fire damage and converts it into health. Plain bronze circle with WoE emblem – a single crying eye - painted on.)
• Various potions for healing and restoring mana, other uses
  

Skills: - (5/10 - 2 Heals, 3 buffs, @3 attacks, plus a defensive buff or two, maybe a chant/shout - Berserker’s Cant? Or a debuff - Baneful Howl? +pet)

• Blood of Tree Sap (+armor and regeneration)
• Berserker's Rage (increased movement rate, attack speed - lose health when ends)
• Fighter's Edge (increased damage/accuracy)
  
• Gird Your Loins (regenerate while attacking ends if stopping)
• Summon Pet (Elder Wolf)

-Play:
~~12/7/06~~
Roth finishes off the last of his beer and wipes the foam from his mouth. This, he thinks as he runs his mailed hands over his stubbled head and feels the short, coarse hairs catch in the metal rings, could be interesting. Rolling his neck - the heavy leather of his armor strains like an old oaken door on rusty hinges - he sizes up the combatants with his one good eye. Throwing his empty mug to smash against the wall over his shoulder he draws an axe, one of his smaller ones, from his belt and flips it up again and again. Casually spinning over the steel blade in lazy arcs before grabbing it out of the air. In his mind he makes a quick check over his equipment and Yeah, two-gunning is definitely the way to go here holsters his throwing axe only to draw two larger battle axes - each one with its own wickedly curving edge. A quick check of his potions and salves to make sure they're well within reach. With practiced ease he layers a few choice enchantments on himself. He steps forward and howls his fiercest war cry:

"C'mon people, is this a party or a picnic? Let's get some skulls cracking!"

And he's off at a run straight into the thick of things. His boots sending the loose dirt flying in clumps he goes faster and faster and faster still until he's within arm's reach. With one step he flexes his will and shifts his buffs as he readies his weapons. With the next in one fluid motion he delivers a vicious elbow to melinda even as he pivots, spins, and swings an axe at djedra.

~~12/8/06~~
With a swift move of his own, the Egyptian looking man manages to deflect the axe with but a flick of his wrist. His wickedly curving blade sends sparks flying from the langetts that save the wooden haft from being sliced apart. Roth shifts his balance and prepares to swipe at his opponent's now open stomach. He begins to lean into the blow to extend the arc of his blade several inches through his opponent's body but at the last minute sees the gleam of a dagger sliding through the air. With desperate speed he twists his chest and the tip of the knife rakes along the hardened leather of his breatsplate. A minor cut that will need repairing later but well away from the skin that really matters.

He's about to wrap his arm around the Egyptian who's overextended in trying to slip the dagger into his chest and drag him into a hold where Roth's greater bulk and heavier armor should give him an advantage when the Warrior is surprised by a strip of burning cloth floating in front of his eyes. Suddenly the world goes white. Roth reels as his eyes fill with stars and the small woman manages to place her knife at his throat. Elbow must not even have fazed her. Looks like I was wrong to ignore her and concentrate on the man. Contrary to appearances, she just might be the bigger threat here. Deciding that it would be best to take her measure as well before making a move against her, Roth leans back into her. Feigning drunk he's placing more of the weight of his long, solid frame and the heavy armor it wore against her to see just how strong she truly was. What was that she said about civilized? The old crazed berserker routine must have gotten to her, too. Good. No reason to let them know any different just yet. I'll just bide my time here and wait for her to make a mistake while I let the two of them wear each other down.

Silently, he marshals his will to call upon the power of the living earth. Nothing beats Blood of Tree Sap when someone has a dagger to your jowels, I always say. Within seconds his flesh has become as thick and tough as the leather of his armor. And capable of regrowing from even the most grievous of non-fatal wounds. Knitting itself together in a matter of moments. As he sags downward Roth thinks to himself Let the woman cut my throat, she'll be in for a big surprise if she does.

~~12/10/06~~
The Egyptian's blade is as sharp as Roth fears as it slices through his throat. His protective magic not enough, blood spurts as his flesh is torn apart cleanly. Clawing at his neck he feels himself pushed away by the woman and uses the momentum to sprawl on the ground. Now to play up the injury. Hopefully no one will see the wound close up this way and I can get a good whack at one of their legs while they fight. Just have to pretend I'm in a lot of pain and cough up some blood while they go at it.

The woman kept one hand on him, grasping him tightly so he couldn't fall completely. He tested her, subtly, to get a feel for her grip. It was tight and unyielding but far from the strongest Roth had ever felt. Good, so she's not demonically powerful, just well trained in using her strength. Wait, what was it that woman said about me? Oh by the highborn, I forgot about the barkskin effect didn't I? Well, great, now what am I going to do now that my big trick's out of the bag? This is why I hate the finger-wriggling stuff.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Egyptian cry out in shock as much as pain as the invisible woman with the piercing eyes sliced at his exposed back. A fox, eh? Oh yeah, this old wolf's going to have some fun. A small patch of blood spreads on the Egyptian's cloth as he turns his attention towards her leaving the other woman alone.

The little one's not falling for it. Not completely anyway. No way I'm going to trip her up like I wanted. And with that shade keeping the man distracted - have to remember he seems a bit surprised by the hand waving - for the moment I've got her all to myself. Now, if I could just get loose here...that wound was nasty and I'm going to need some more healing before I bleed out. Fortunately, that's why the gods made lifestealing enhancements. A few swings of an axe and I'll be good as new.

Suddenly, the small woman seemed lost in concentration for a crucial moment. Roth twisted himself free and with unnatural speed draws one of his enchanted axes, the blade edged with arcane runes that seemed to twist and curl into themselves hinting at spaces and places beyond. In his other - as if by magic - a polished and pit-less brass shield appears. Although just as magicked as the axe it's marked only by the sign of his clan - a lone and stylized weeping eye in deep midnight blue paint. She's got a quick hand with that dagger and she's a slippery one, let's keep a little defensive here. Not a moment too late because a ball of fiery death appears in the woman's hands blossoming like an obscene flower. She shoves it at Roth, aiming no doubt for his face and his vulnerable eyes again but he manages to raise his shield at the last second to catch the flames.

The ball explodes against the bronze shield and flares outwards. For a moment, anyways, because the tendrils of flame whipping outwards in rage are soon absorbed into the metallic sheen of the shield - seeming to sink and fade into pure light flickering along its edge before disappearing completely. Heh. Mages. Always love their fire. Good thing I packed my flamebane shield this morning. Powerful ropes of magical energy unseen by anyone without a mystic's sight travel between the shield and Roth knitting together his ravaged throat in an instant. Feeling renewed and invigorated by the fire's transfered energy, Roth pushes back against the girl to break her grip and swiftly tumbles to his feet - not an easy task in his bulky armor but his speed enchantments will last a little while longer. Quickly rising he readies his axe and fixes his shield. He circles the smaller woman warily and waits for her next attack still trying to gauge her abilities.

~~12/10/06~~
His senses and reaction time boosted by his enchantments, Roth sees the woman throw a knife and moves to dodge it. To Roth the rest of the world is moving as if swimming through dense water as time trickles onward. But to an observer Roth appears to be moving with almost unnatural speed and grace for someone with wearing such heavily padded armor. He moves like a jungle animal and nearly as fast, in confident, seemingly lazy steps that eat distance as surely as the unwary. Twisting away, the knife sails harmless past Roth.

Stars blast that woman! Unfortunately, he's spun right into the path of the next three daggers the small woman's sent streaking towards him as she lead him with unerring aim. Fighting against his momentum, Roth tries to evade the sharp knives.

But at that moment the last erg of energy in his time-warping enchantment slips away into the ether. The world snaps forward as Roth's bubble of time manipulation fades. The arcane forces crash down on Roth like a hammer blow. He winces as his body is wracked with pain and his senses battered by the sudden shift in speeds. He slows and the world speeds. His strength wicking away with his magic. And consumed by pain Roth is helpless as the daggers slam home.

One glances harmlessly off his shoulder guard and clatters on the floor. Another finds a slim crack in his armor and lodges itself into the bicep of his sword arm. But the last buries itself deeply into the gap joining his neck and shoulder with a sickeningly wet sound. Okay, that hurt. Note to self: pay more attention to enchantment durations if they're going to kick you in the pants when they run out.

Roth is severely injured. His breath comes in ragged and blood filled spurts. But with every passing second his regenerative magics bring him new health. Okay, let's review our options here. Sap Blood's proving worth its weight in gold. It's not going to be nearly enough to recover from these wounds, though. But our vampiric friend here -his grip tightens around the shaft of his axe- means the best defense is a good offense. Be a while still before I can rage again. So let's buff out and put this little woman on her back heels, if we can.

An instant to focus his will and Roth's muscles seem to swell. His blade grows sharper still and the eldritch runes engraved in it burn with invisible fire. With a scream ripped from the lowest level of the hells, Roth presses forward swinging wildly with blow after blow against the Filipina. Raining them down with careless ease they fall with uncanny accuracy. Each one that connects, even a glancing blow, seems to make him stronger and sap the strength from her.

~~12/12/06~~
Flailing away with deadly precision, Roth presses his advantage as melinda dodges blow after blow. Roth can sense her increasing desperation as his size and strength are beginning to overpower her. All thoughts of finesse banished from his mind he swings harder to keep her on the defensive. Sooner or later she'll be a step too slow or a step too clumsy and then his blade would sink deep.

Mages. Same no matter what world I'm walking. Get them close and they fall all to pieces. This is why I should always stick to the basics. See someone, hit them with something pointy. Why mess with a classic?

His eyes glow with a red haze and color blanches from his skin as his magical axe's enchantment works its powerful enchantment upon him. Driving him into a battle frenzy and draining away his strength but feeding him at the same time from the blood it absorbs. Just enough to keep him standing and no more because the blade is a greedy one. Deep in the throes of bloodlust and with the regenerative blood coursing through his veins, Roth hardly notices. But he does notice the battle and his heavy use of magic are beginning to take its toll. We need to wrap this up and fast because my stamina's about to bottom out.

A look of concentration floats on the woman's face momentarily and Roth tenses - that's a sure sign of magic about to fly and the old superstitions run deep even though he's mastered more than a few arcane secrets of his own. Along the handle of his axe gouts of flame flare into the air. Inside of his metal ringed gauntlets Roth's fingers blacken and char. But the strange magics of the ancients springs to action along the lines of force etched upon the edge of his shield. Once again it draws the flames into itself and converts them into life-sustaining vitality. Added to the two other strands of mystical healing pouring into Roth's spirit the damage from the flames is gone quickly. But the pain lingers.

Roth grimaces. "Tried that trick already, darling. And I'm afraid one chance is all you get with me." His eyes having adjusted to the flashes of light his vision is blurred but he's unimpaired. And his fingers have healed - painfully regrowing their flaking skin in moments. It feels as though molten copper's been poured into his gauntlets. But to someone who's felt the soul-searing fires of the lowest planes, it's a minor inconvenience. And one that will fade in time. Roth presses on.

"Time to find your place among the stars, little one." Gripping the handle firmly with both hands and raising his axe above his head, Roth rears backwards. Arching his back he gathers every last bit of his waning strength into the killing blow.

~~12/15/06~~~
Roth raised the axe and prepared to swing. He took no grim satisfaction in ending the woman's life but in a fight it was kill or be killed. If she were in his place, he'd expect nothing but the swift mercy of the blade so that was what he'd give. Better to die on one's feet in battle rather than of old age in an empty bed. But, still, did the respect he feel for the Fillipina stay his hand a second too long? Or was it nothing but his growing exhaustion. Or perhaps the weight of his armor dragging his whole body down. Whatever it was he does pause.

And a moment's pause is all Melinda needs. swift as a serpent striking at his heel, the small woman's hand reaches into her clothing and draws out her knives. With the sound of tearing silk they speed through the air. Too fast to think, too fast to even dodge, Roth has no time to react and they strike true.

Once more Roth reels backwards. Unseen to his eyes his vampiric axe pulls the threads of his strength taut. With no fresh blood to sate its hunger it turns towards Roth's own and begins to feed. Damn! Sap Blood always runs out just when I need it most. Time to recast.

The very air seems to still as Roth gathers his will - fighting through the pain of the dagger's cuts burning on his skin - and prepares to again call upon the spirit of the earth to sustain him. But Roth's forgotten that his stamina is all but gone. He reaches out to the essence of all living things but suddenly his weariness overtakes him and the world crashes down on him - inside of his skull and behind his eyes seems to explode into a dizzying array of colored embers and searing pain. Wracked with mana burn on top of the damage from Melinda's knives, Roth staggers back. Collapsing to one knee, Roth is in serious trouble. And his only thoughts are of survival.

No! It can't end like this! I'm too far from the skies of my ancestors. I have to buy time to recover my strength. Reaching towards his belt he pulls loose a an earthen pot sealed over with inky tar. He cradles its roundness in his palm and then smashes it into the ground. Roiling jets of thunderstorm darkness steam from the broken jar - they're cold to the touch, though, a chill that runs deeper than mere temperature. Within moments the area is covered in a thick mist of darkness. The color of a starless night, it obscures everything within the cloud. And somewhere near the center is Roth. Waiting with his axes drawn.