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Absolutely amazing. 
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Sep 3, 2015 21:30
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RPZip posted:Wahad: This is a neat concept, and I like how it plays with the Queentobelympics. What is the deal with Shea Moongleam? Was she a close rival? A distant one? Part of a conspiracy to take out the front-runner? Did she win? Did she lose? Did she get disgraced and thrown out? Give me some details about her and your relationship with her. Shea Moongleam was... let me put it this way; I've never seen someone be so elaborately creative to find the most straightforward solution. Granted, she did always have a flair for the dramatic, so perhaps there was something with that that gave her the need for extravagantly complicated solutions where simpler would've sufficed much more efficiently. Like I said, she was a tinkerer and an alchemist. Small constructs and transmutation were her forte when it came to her own creations, but she possessed a keen insight when it came to analyzing objects before her as well, and how to best take them apart (if necessary, which for her it often was). As far as rivalry - I'm still not sure if she came up with the idea herself, or was just the one to talk to Lamm about it. In the end, she didn't work herself into the first place - even with me out of the running, she didn't have the chops for it. But my own breakdown, caused by her, was not investigated as foul play. Magical mishaps are common in the competition, and while there were a few suspicions at first, nothing had really indicated that there was anything caused by outside forces. So in the end, all she accomplished was crippling me. Thinking back on it, maybe that was really what she wanted. There were more than a few times when I showed up her fancy contraptions and concoctions with a proper display of magic - and I knew she resented me for it. But what did I care? I was going to win that competition, I had little time for second-bests. Some would suggest that part of the reason she took action against me was my lack of graciousness in my march towards victory I say gently caress them. I was earning it, with hard work and skill, and she took it from me with a loving poison. I can be gracious. I can be kind. But the competition was - is - cutthroat, and so was I - so was she.
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Sep 4, 2015 12:23
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I added additional stuff to my original post (everything except the response to RPZip's prompts + gear and feat).
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Sep 4, 2015 22:58
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That should be everything. I used the sick or infirm suggestion for the sorcerer starting gold given that Karnar wouldn't have had much of chance to get any money except off of the body of an attacker. Which is why his gear is pretty light to begin with, I'd be picking stuff up in the game if it came up. Let me know if I have missed anything, or if you need or want more detail on things.
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Sep 5, 2015 09:39
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I've come down with a charming case of ear infection, so picks may be a bit delayed. I'm going to push it back to at least Tuesday, so if you haven't yet responded to a prompt get on that.
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Sep 6, 2015 07:13
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RPZip posted:ProfessorCirno: This is an interesting concept, and I like the equipment list as a nice little touch. What was the rallying cry of your little revolution? What did you use to stir them up, to get them headed in the same direction? Did you have a slogan, a political manifesto, salient economic talking points? "Our rallying cry was just three words: Freedom and Sisterhood. It's what we knew we had, what they couldn't take away, the weapons we were armed with. There had been too many years of petite dictators pushing us around, and when you're an elf, let me tell you, "too many years" is a drat long time. And the whole time you're just surrounded by the propaganda. The noble elves are better then you. The faerie lords and ladies are more powerful then you. Keep your head down, don't catch their attention. It's just the way things are - yeah, right until we decided it wasn't gonna be the way things were anymore. Had to stomp around a bit before they believed me, but they believed me in the end. We had each other, and we had the liberty we'd kill for. I mean, that wasn't my choice for a catchphrase. The big guy chose that phrase. Me, I preferred "They can die!" Nice reminder to both sides of the fight that they weren't all they claimed to be. It was a good battlecry! Used it in every fight, never let me down! Years and years being told they don't break a sweat, but I can promise you they can bleed! To the last questions, not really, not really, and not really! Oh, I had someone who tried to cover all that - my second in command actually, the big guy I mentioned, who's back in drow lands keeping the territories we took running in top notch condition - but it was never about some big long term new government thing for me. I had one goal: Smash the system. The whole thing was rotten! Break the kneecaps and let it fall, then kick it's head in when it's on the ground! Let others pick up the pieces. Hells, my plan was to put the big guy in charge and just play his puppet, he could've been born to do it! He wouldn't of course, had all these thoughts about "voting" and "communal rights." Too high minded for me. Tell you one secret, though. We had bigger plans. Still do. If the Erlking can be killed, it means the Icons ain't sacrosanct. Got a much longer list of tyrants then just elves.
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Sep 6, 2015 14:32
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RPZip posted:More questions! More reviews! More bits of Newport News! I'm sure that you have heard that the Legion was modeled after Hell's own. In the same fashion, it's no easier getting out of the Legion than escaping from Hell itself, or so they say. The Hellknight demands five years of you, but he will have your body and if needs be, soul. In the gallows-humored talk of the legionary grunts, when one of their own is lost in battle, they say that he or she has "retired". So when I came to the general to request my discharge at the end of my tour, I was prepared for some resistance. I would appeal to his sense of justice, tell him of my burning need to face Gaedren Lamm and save my mother. He didn't need any convincing. "I knew you would be leaving us soon," he told me. "I could see it in your eyes, boy." He hooked his thumb into the eye socket of a yellowed skull resting upon the field desk. The black horns curled tightly around its temples. I'd often wondered, on occasion when I met with the man in his command tent, what manner of beast or demon it belonged to, how terrible the battle must have been and what weapon left that wicked gash in the bone. Did he keep it to remember the struggle? A reminder of a brush with death? Or perhaps some kind of message to visitors like myself. The Hellknight was ready to discharge me--on one condition. I was to obtain an artifact for the Legion, though in truth it was not an artifact, for no mortal hands had fashioned it. In the Pit it was forged by Fallen smiths, blinded by endless ages of flame and sparks and slag and white hot steel. The fires were fed with the bones of the dishonorable dead, stoked with the wails of the damned, iron quenched with the blood of babes. The artifact was inlaid with silver from stolen coins, obtained by violence. The lock was bronze from a witch's athame, consecrated in the blood of the innocent. It was a box, he said, devised by the most cunning artificers of Dis, the Capital of Hell. I asked him what was inside and he told me that it held "a secret". "A secret, well kept, can be a valuable thing to man and god alike." I couldn't fathom his meaning, or what the value of the box truly was. The next morning, I set out on horseback, my heart filled with uncertainty. I am not proud; I will admit that I am not the bravest or the strongest or the swiftest. And this box, it worried me. I knew not what the general meant about the "secret", but I knew that the box was fashioned in the inferno by demons whose every thought and action was set to the destruction and damnation of mortal kind. Any thing crafted by such wicked hands would draw malefic forces to it. Three days and two nights from the encampment I rode. Green fields gave way to brown to gray. I found myself in a blast land, a craggy battlefield where great violence had come to pass many years ago. Rusted weapons and bones were strewn across the ground, as if none cared to for the bodies. Or none lived to care. I followed the cracks as my commander bade me, seeking the source of the destruction. At its center was a steep hill, black as pitch, the ground a wicked web of cracks. I scaled it with some difficulty, forced to use my spear and iron hand to find purchase in the blasted earth. Atop it lay a strange pool, limned by smoky crystal. In the center of that pool, lay a black box, of iron and silver and bronze. I reached for it, but an intense heat rose from the pool, scalding my hand, forcing me back. "What in the gods' names..." The heat was incredible; I can liken it only to that of the forge. Still, I had to retrieve the box, so I tried again, not with flesh but with iron. The liquid in the pool was thick and hot, but the Ironthew feels nothing of it as I reach deeper to get the box. I pull away as soon as I can, relieved to be free of the unbearable heat, the thick liquid of the pool cooling on my arm and the box. It was crystal, much like what surrounded the pool. It was also hardening very quickly. Before I realized it, my hand was trapped around the box and worse tidings were to come. A strange susurrus rose up from around the hill, like locust in summer or leaves in autumn. The ancient warriors rose from the blasted ground, eyes lit by unholy blue flame. What was animating them, I thought to myself. Necromancy? Devils? Both? It did not matter, as regardless of what motivated them, it was clear that they wished me to join them. I leaped off the hill and broke into a run. I had left my horse just beyond the battlefield, tied to a tree. She had refused to enter this blighted land. Perhaps she was wiser than I. Without a shield, I struggled to stave off the grasping hordes. With my spear, I fouled their footing and pierced skulls but still there were too many. Ultimately, it was my iron arm, bound in crystal, that proved most useful. It splintered old bones and crushed dusty skulls, putting out the fire in their eyes. By the time I had reached my horse, I was almost free of the crystal as well. I rode back to the encampment as Hell rode after me. I did not stop until my horse began to froth and we rested. When I returned, the Hellknight received his prize without word and bid me to go home to my mother and to my city. I was angered by his treatment of me, but too tired to to act on it. I left the next day for Newport.
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Sep 7, 2015 05:18
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My apologies, I was not able to give this the time and effort I had wanted. Application withdrawn.
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Sep 8, 2015 20:41
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RPZip posted:I've come down with a charming case of ear infection, so picks may be a bit delayed. I'm going to push it back to at least Tuesday, so if you haven't yet responded to a prompt get on that. Conservatively call it friday because my life is a constant flip-flopping between agony and being really, really stoned on pain pills right now.
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Sep 9, 2015 01:36
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RPZip posted:Conservatively call it friday because my life is a constant flip-flopping between agony and being really, really stoned on pain pills right now. idk gettign a round of questions or picks while you were all gassed up could be good
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Sep 9, 2015 04:52
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Get well soon, Zip.
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Sep 12, 2015 19:19
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Thanks, everyone. I'm still in the process of recovering and catching up on the work backlog that built up while I was out, but I've made my final picks. Picking a small group was painful, and there were a lot of good concepts that I couldn't quite fit in with the party size I was going for. ------ Gaedren Lamm must die. And these just might be the people to do it.
They get summoned. From each of our chosen few, I need the following:
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Sep 14, 2015 11:32
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There is a fisherman – an old man. His name is Daric. He knows us, me – without the mask. In the mornings, when we are – I am waiting to feel better from taresagaru-su – what words do you say? ‘Hang Over’ – I split shells for the man. Fix his nets. Makes the hands strong, fast. At dawn, when the sun makes the ocean gold, and the sky is still the wrong blue from the aurora, sitting on the dock, I find the card on my right side. I do not watch my right side well. Shameful. An invitation. So it is. The war goes poorly - the cat has nothing better to do. We – I have been summoned, I will go. Simple. ~ Chrono Trigger Sprite: Um, if it has to be a party member, Ayla – unless we need a unique sprite, in which case I yield Ayla to Cirno as I think Cirno’ll want that one (maybe not!) If not a player, then maybe the Freelancer/Outlaw sprite, because they have fancy sword moves and acrobatics. I will revise this answer if I get a better idea of what's going on! ~ “I do not know this one – the drow. We can appreciate ‘revolution.’ But this one. In Sull’acqua No Toshi, we would say she has large eyes and a small tummy. Big change needs patience, diligence, precision. We learned this. Elves live long, she will learn this too.” “I have heard of this one, the musician. The musician who is also a detective.” She laughs. “Good, good. Performers who - tsukilluminare? – to solve crime, these are my favorite people. I never saw ‘Piss Vicars’ – these are words I do not know? – he must play music for us all, it will be good.” “Nivet. We know this one. We study the ‘underworld’ in every city we go. You listen to men talk – men love to talk – and you know. Who they hate, who they trust. Who was boss, who will be boss. How to place pressure. Nivet is Lamm’s friend, with horns, from a long time ago. Not a friend now. Brutal person. Not to be trusted.”
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Sep 14, 2015 14:26
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So this is between you and me, right? Sometimes the itch to play for people gets to be too much, gotta do something about it, so I dress down a little, fix the hair with a little color, make sure I look just different enough, right? I usually head out to one of the squares in the merchant quarter, near that bar with the great kebabs most of the time. Spend a few hours with the hat out, just playing for the sake of it, watching the city. I used that trick a few times looking for someone, no one bothers a musician if he's worth half a poo poo and you can sit outside a place for a long time that way. Anyhoo, I usually just drink the take at the end of the day. The other day I find this fuckin' card in there, right? Checked it for curses, tracking, nothin'. Reckon' whoever left it don't need trackin' magics to find me. Did a lot of drinking that night, but hell, I wanna see who found me that easy. I never played Chrono Trigger, but google reveals this guy seems all right and he has part of my name and also I like his hair. "Aram? I like 'em. Tough son of a bitch. We can talk shop too, sometimes. Mostly his type doesn't understand. He does maybe a little too well, eh?" "Yen's a political. I've known political types, on both sides of my life. Never been a flavor I liked to mix in my coffee. Causes trouble, and I got enough of that. Good news is, just don't talk politics around 'em, usually isn't much trouble." "Rin wears a mask and fights crime. For free. For real. I'm pretty sure she's better at my job than I am when it comes down to it, too. Strange days, these are." Winson_Paine fucked around with this message at 15:27 on Sep 14, 2015 |
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Sep 14, 2015 15:04
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He crumples. By the look on his face, he's either concussed or dead, so I've done my job. The other man in the room shrinks back. "Wait, wait! We didn't mean to-" A kick to the head shuts his yap too. "Then what the heck were you doing sneaking into m-" A card flutters from his senseless hand. I lean down. Pick it up. There's gotta be an easier way of passing messages, I think as I stow it. Sprite: http://www.spriters-resource.com/snes/chronotrigger/sheet/16910/ Zane? Never heard of 'im. I was gone while he was popular and now I don't even remember what kinda music I liked. Just that it ain't this poo poo. And if he's a detective now.. well. I definitely never heard of 'im. This elf girl- well, from what I hear, we're alike, only she was going after the real guv'mint, not the shadow 'un. Sounds like a mighty fine job to me, but frankly I don't give a poo poo what the pointies are fightin' over. This...vigilante. Don't know much about her, or them, or whatever. Know a bunch of folk were running scared of 'em when I came back into town. Fuckin' pansies. A blade in the dark is part of fuckin' life on the underside. You'd think people would be used to it.
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Sep 14, 2015 21:36
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Knew someone was lookin' for me. Didn't know why. Thought I'd set up a pretty little ambush. They were good, you know - followed my trail perfect, didn't fall for any of the false leads I threw in. Set myself up in an alley, let him catch me at dark, put myself high up too, make it extra dramatic. Glowing red eyes behind a mask, carved cocky grin off to the side. Scared the piss out of him. Image matters, you know. Said he just wanted to deliver a message, had no fight with me. Told him to leave it on the ground, and so he did, running away probably to change his pants. And what do you know, I AM interested in this letter... The Singer. Heard his tune once; it was ok, I guess, but they're missing soul. You gotta have a fight in your heart to make proper music. Seems to be mostly just muddling along through life. Sad really; person needs something to be passionate about. The Cat. Before poo poo went bad, I got letters from here every so often. My crew mentioned twin vigilantes. Now there's only one. I know that feeling. She needs a gang, and she gonna need more then just a want to kill this miserable bastard - once he dies, she'll still have that hole. I might have just what she needs. She can join our "we." Plus, hey, I love masks! The Goat. Yeah yeah, brags about how big and tough he is, mister piss and vinegar. Bust mostly just a big rear end in a top hat. The kinda muscle you pay extra for, sure, but that's it. Just another bicep with an addiction to coin. Some of his type will fight for the revolution, but none belong in it. Useful for now though; treat him like a crossbow. Point at the enemy, pull the trigger, hope the bolt don't come back. quote:Telling me which Chrono Trigger sprite your character would most resemble, and why. 
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Sep 15, 2015 15:06
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Protip: Never catch a second, albeit not as worse, cold right after finishing up the first one. Between school (and missing it because of sick), work (and missing it because of sick), and... well, being sick and sleeping a ridiculous amount, I haven't had time to get the game going. I'm going to be out of town for a few days this weekend, which either means I'm going to get it going or I'm going to have no time to sit down and get it going, and I'm not sure which! So, yeah. Sorry, players. I'll be back next week and I should be caught up with everything and not having my life continually turning into a living hell. E: Not as worse? I need more sleep.
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Sep 22, 2015 13:39
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I've mentioned this to all of the players individually, but when I got back from my trip I had to put my dog down, and it's been... rough. I'm really, really not in a place where I can run a game right now, as it turns out, so I'm sorry to everyone who applied to this and didn't get in, and more sorry to those who did.  Sorry folks.
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Oct 10, 2015 15:29
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