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Daveron - Drunkenly Stumbling around Arandia Daveron coughs and sputters as he wakes up, his head heavy with hangover. He hears the members of his family yelling, something about Ilvis missing; it sticks in his head long enough to remind him to wake up. Groaning, he turns over onto his stomach to pull himself out of bed, grabbing the extravagant curtain by accident, pulling the steel curtain rod down onto his head with a bang (and a yell, some obscenities, and more groaning). Crawling, clutching his head, he heads over to a crystal full of some of the finest wine in the region, and chugs it down with long gasping swallows, coughing it onto his shirt. This was not a time to drink for flavor and spirit, this was a time to drink for necessity...he's have to go outside. His eyes dart out the window nervously. "Oh sweet merciful whoevers...look at all the poo poo hanging precariously around the streets," he mumbles to himself. He spots rakes sitting eerily close to the road, waiting for a foot to stride over them; he sees cans of dye sitting above doorways, waiting for the door to be opened just a little too far. "What the gently caress, who even put those there!" he grumbles angrily to himself, looking down at the street. This was going to be a rough day. He looked back and grabbed some harder alcohols, and chugged those down. ----- Later on, he stumbles out of the house after learning that Ilvis is indeed missing, along with her horse Chestnut. Not unusual for her to be gone, but unusual for her to be gone and no one knowing where she is. He walks through town, gaining some composure from the liquid courage. Walking up to random commoners, and perhaps people he knew, he began grumbling and in some cases a tone of authority demanding to know if anyone had seen Ilvis, or where she might have been. Action: Find some clues as to where Ilvis may have been. Using +2 Noble Blooded: She's noble, he's noble, common streetrats worship the ground they walk on (or so he believes). Either way, someone somewhere will have recognized her (and him by extension). No real threats used but implications of "hey, I have a powerful uncle/father, and you best let me know what you know." Daveron  Once, he was something. He was a great fighter, he had all the ladies, it was almost as if he was guided by destiny; numerous victories were under his belt, he could best anybody. Something happened though, one day, travelling by himself. He was so smug in his sureness that he felt he could even defeat the old gods, wherever they happened to be. He yelled out such, and then was promptly thrown from his horse, rolled down the hill and struck his head on a large rock, knocking him out for several hours. When he awoke, his face was soaked with blood from his split head, and he groggily pulled himself through the rain-slicked mud to his horse, and the horse carried him home. From then on, he was unable to win any fight; he stumbled over his feet, his sword was missing, he had a rock in his shoe, so on and so forth. Soon it became even worse; day to day activities were frought with peril. Birds poo poo on him, he fell down stairs, orphan boys would beat him up and take his gold pouch. Years of this went by, and he drank. And drank. And drank. It seemed alchohol was the only thing that prevented this bad things from happening to him. He drank from sun-up to sun-down, and only received minor bruises in his day to day activities. One day, he was going to participate in a tournament so grand that he was sure it would win him his luck back; he knew the only way he'd survive it if he was sideways from being so drunk. Then he slept through it. His little cousin won it instead (as she told him later). He adored her, and wasn't jealous, but hell if that put him in a bad mood. That night, drinking in a bar, he yelled out at people in the street, "You there! Why don't you fall down stairs all the time!" And then he turned to another, yelling "Why don't you step in horse poo poo all day long!" He continued to yell these things at random passers-by...and to his amazement, these things happened to them as he watched. Setting his drink down slowly, he looked wide eyed around him. Turning to one of the bar patrons, he looked down at the patron's stool, and the stool collapsed, the man sprawled out with beer all over his clothes. Daveron sat slack-jawed. He controlled people's bad luck. +4 Dirty Fighter Despite being good at his ability, he's always favored dirty tricks to gain an edge. +4 Strong Body He's built like a tank, and is able to take some incredible hits and perform feats of strength. +2 Bad Luck (Supernatural Power) He's been stuck with bad luck so long he's somehow gained the ability to manipulate it. +2 Truth +2 Death +2 Knowledge +2 Hate -2 Uneasy is the head that wears the crown : The well-being of his people and followers are now of concern to Daveron. If they are unwell as a whole, if they suffer, he suffers as well. The well-being of a ruler depends on the well-being of their people. Core Values Reluctant Warrior, bitter, grumpy Zombie #246 fucked around with this message at 06:34 on Aug 31, 2013 |
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Nov 17, 2012 08:59
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Daveron Daveron grumbles, not enough info to go on. Perhaps his cousin had in fact just gone out on a stroll...but his gut wouldn't let him hold the thought. He walks to the stables, and grabs his horse, an aging warhorse named Thickhoof, and groaned as he climbed onto it. "Let's go boy," he mutters to the horse, the horse starting out. Stopping by some of the city watch, he nods to them, "Ilvis is missing...and it would be in your best interest to look out for her return." Daveron then heads out into the surrounding lands in an attempt to travel areas he knew she frequented. Using +2 Noble Blooded to let the guards know who's in charge here, and have them basically be more alert for news of Ilvis. Meanwhile, just randomly going out into the wilderness to run into another encounter/Ilvis/a dire wolf/etc.
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Nov 23, 2012 10:09
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Daveron (Offroad in Arandia, near the Eosian border) Daveron stumbles into the bushes, trying to keep low; the bow string snapping was mostly coincidence, mostly. He scrambles through the bushes as the bandits start coming for him, and pulls his sword out, tripping over a rock in the process and losing his weapon. A bandit comes towards him, weapon swinging through the air, and Daveron gives a hefty heave with his foot into the bandit's chest, knocking him to the ground; the bandit's weapon falls down beside Daveron. The bandit looks up at Daveron, his hands in the air, "No! I'm unarmed! I surrender!" Daveron looks down, and says "Bad luck for you then," and grins, and swings down with his new weapon. Attacking the bandits because...Daveron's drunk. Defending with the same bonuses if possible. +2 Bad Luck - The bandits will hopefully fall on their weapons, trip and roll into completely open and defenseless positions, armor straps will fall off, that kind of thing. +4 Dirty Fighter - Daveron's just the kind of guy who would go for such openings, and isn't afraid to hit a man when he's down (in fact he'd prefer it that way, much quicker).
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Nov 25, 2012 01:46
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Daveron (Arandia, Forest south of Harvan) Daveron wobbles a bit, then stumbles over to his dropped weapon, keeping his eyes on the bandit the whole time. Leaning up, he runs his hands through his hair, breathing heavy from the fight. "Look...uh, bandit." Daveron points to the men on the ground. "We really don't have to do this, I'm just looking for someone." Daveron watches as the bandit approaches, and he spots a deadfall nearby; Daveron grins. Using Bad Luck +2 to have the bandit leader guy slip and fall into a deadfall (presumably of bandit making). If he attacks, I'll defend with Strong Body +4 and Dirty Fighter +4.
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Nov 27, 2012 13:36
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Daveron (Arandia, Woods South of Harvan) Daveron grumbles, shaking his head. "Was looking for you Ilvis, people were worried." Daveron wearily sits for a moment, ontop of one of the bandit's bodies. "Got a few of them though," he grins, pulling out a flask of Arandian Brandy, and taking a swig. He idly checks the bandit's pockets as he does so, pulling out a coin here and there, inspecting it, before pocketing it. Glancing up at Ilvis under raised eyebrows, he quickly adds, "Don't tell your parents about this," grinning. He groans and stands up, kneeling and leaning on the bandit to help him up, then walks over to where Baldos fell. He looks back to Ilvis, and nods. "I could always use a few fellows like these guys working for me...well maybe someone that is better in a scrap." Basically aiding Ilvis in the looting/capturing of prisoners/general being a dick to these bandits. Using +4 Strong Body to help with the heavy lifting, and +2 Noble Blood to perhaps scare them into the whole "You just hosed with the wrong bloodline"
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Dec 5, 2012 19:34
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Daveron (Arandia, Woods South of Harvan) Daveron grumbles once more, and looks to Ilvis, and nods. "Looks like we may have made some coin today," he stumbles forward, grabbing his flask and drinking some. Slowly, Daveron grabs most of the bandits and drags them over to a log, their bodies dragging through the mud. He grabs an axe one of them had poorly fought with, and hefts it above his arm, and turns to Ilvis, "Turn your head, young'un. This isn't for kids." He brings his arm down, hacking the heads off the bandits one by one. Chopping the heads off the bandits (and the bandit leader), so that they might be turned in for bounty (if they have one). Looting the bodies, carrying the goods as best I can back to Harvan. Using +4 Strong Body to carry it all.
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Dec 15, 2012 03:55
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Daveron Daveron looks at Ilvis as he wipes the bandit gore onto his pants. "Yeah, let's get going." Heading to town with Ilvis.
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Dec 21, 2012 10:31
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) "Yes, help me with this bounty, and I'll cut you some gold for your troubles." Daveron looks at the trophies, and takes the bandit leader's head, and ties it to his arm. "Except for this one, I'm keeping this one." Daveron gives a drunken smirk. Using +2 Noble as leverage in the whole "Nobles probably maybe keep their word." Just as an FYI, I do plan on paying the guard part of the take if he helps facilitate the process of getting me some money for some heads.
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Jan 3, 2013 03:13
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) Daveron grumbles, and scratches his stubble. He follows Ilvis toward the marketplace. Following Ilvis, and making grumbling sounds toward people that look at me.
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Jan 15, 2013 07:20
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) Daveron grabs his head for a moment, feeling the separation of the worlds for a moment, and shakes it. "Ugh what did I drink," he mumbles, almost falling over. When his head clears, he's still standing around a bunch of commoners taunting a thief and probably stealing stolen goods. Daveron puts his hands in the air, and yells, "Enough! I'm sick of this banditry! I know there's some in this town that have partaken of ill-gotten goods, but I'm willing to offer my name and pardon them for a chance at redemption!" His hand lowers to his sword, the palm gripping it. "It is better to come forward now, before I have to come dig your guts out of you..." His drunken eyes scan over the crowd. Using +2 Bad Luck to cause those who are in fact men/women of the brigand nature to stumble foward at the wrong time (either from a push or a misstep) into the front of the crowd, thereby exposing themselves. +2 Noble Blooded, because hey, I'm a noble, these common scum probably would do anything I ask.
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Jan 16, 2013 12:19
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) Daveron squinted as he looked at his neice's sword, the light shining from it giving him an immense headache. Grumbling, he brought his flask up and took a large swig, burping as he ran his arm across his stubbly face. Looking at the crowd, some standing in awe, some cowering fearfully, Daveron noticed an elderly man still pulling some of the stolen goods to his chest, pretending to kneel. Daveron strode over, a grumpy look on his face, and pulled the man up by his collar for the crowd to see, striking an imposing figure next to the light from his neice's sword. "Look at this wretch! Lesser men are slain for what he's done..." Daveron narrows his eyes toward the people, letting his words sink in. The old man scrabbles at his neck. "I offer two options...let those with blackened hearts step forward, and confess their crimes..." Daveron pulls his sword out of it's sheathe, and plunges it into the man's chest, "Or I decide who's guilty or not." Using +2 Bad Luck to get those who are truly terrible criminals (not so much the unfortunate, people scrambling for change that they need to feed their family) to stumble foward again, sprawling themselves on the ground as the crowd tenses up trying not to reveal or accidentally reveal themselves; using +2 Noble Blooded because hell, we pretty much are the law in this place.
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Jan 29, 2013 07:07
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) Green Dragon Inn some time later in the day after the judging Daveron only half pays attention to the conversation at hand as he downs flagon after flagon of ale, burping, and grumbling with small periods of passing out. When Civar and Ilvis attempt to bring him up to speed on the situation at hand, Daveron waves his hand in an annoyed fashion, "Don't tell me a story about it, just tell me what to do." He grumbles more, and the chair beneath him collapses. "Just my luck." Aiding Civar's action, throwing in Truth +2 (so that the hammer can make true/platonic ideal things) and Strong Body +4 (help with forging, it's a strength intensive task and very exhausting), and +2 Noble Blood (because he's got some good materials connections among those other nobles who happen to have some guilds in their pocket.
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Feb 3, 2013 06:44
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) Daveron stares at Ilvis for a long time after she....he...it...stopped speaking, his mouth hanging open. He looks down at his massive cup, ale spilling out of it due to him slowly lowering it in his confusion. He looks back up at Ilvis, and takes a swig, then punches Ilvis in the face. Leaning down, he helps Ilvis back up. "Sorry Ilvis, I couldn't do that when you were a girl. Plus this rattled my cage." He belches.
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Feb 6, 2013 06:45
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Daveron Daveron grumbles and puts his hands in his pants, and pulls his hand back out. "Yup, still the same." Daveron just kind of stands there, thinking about random things, teetering a bit from the alcohol.
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Feb 6, 2013 07:01
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan) Daveron growls, his eyes narrowing at his neice...er nephew, and then quickly his expression softens, and he starts laughing uproariously. He stumbles as he tries to stand up, using Ilvis to help him up. He rubs his arm across his mouth, catching some of the ale that spilled when Ilvis knocked him down. "Look," he says, still laughing a bit, "Having a Ser Welhelm" he says, making waving hand gestures with the phrase, "Is not a problem." He grabs his ale mug, and pushes the door open to the rest of the tavern. "Look," he says, turning his head to speak to Ilvis, "I'll prove it." He raises his mug out to the tavern patrons, and bellows out, "Here's to having a cock!" He is met with great shouts and hoots and here-here's and many other affirmations of ser wilhelm-having, most with their own mugs hoisted mightily into the air in a celebration of manhood (and drunkeness). The rest of the tavern laughing behind him, Daveron's face hardens a bit, looking back to Ilvis, "See, it's not a problem. I'm going to grab another drink." Daveron grabs a drink, and sits down at a table to play some dice games. He doesn't roll great, but his opponent's roll much worse. No action, just hee-hawin Zombie #246 fucked around with this message at 10:01 on Feb 6, 2013 |
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Feb 6, 2013 09:58
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Daveron (Arandia, Harvan, a tavern) Daveron sat idly drinking, his mind wandering to dark places as ever, chewing a piece of mutton. He looked around the dimly-lit tavern, full of men that he felt some small amount of kinship with; types that speak with their hands in the heat of the moment. He looked to Ilvis and Civar, and back to his drink. "Alright you lot!" Daveron stands up, pointing his finger at the tavern-goers. "I'm looking for men with a certain disposition, men who take what they want, but backed by law, not banditry." His hand lowers to his weapon, "We will create something great in this rotten world, carve it in, and twist the blade if we don't get the goods." "Stand forth, and join my side if you will." Daveron regards the tavern with drunken eyes, and a slight grin. Attempting to create a force of Paladins, men of outwardly great virtue, but upon inspection reveal nothing of heroic quality, but nothing of evil quality either. Essentially, the Paladins are going to be thugs in a robber baron scenario; the only thing that makes the men recruited as such non-bandits is the fact that they have a noble granting their organization legitmacy. Ilvis and Civar will be involved in this process too (hopefully), so here's the bonuses I propose to the roll: Daveron +2 Noble Blood - Hey, it's a noble leading a group of people he appointed himself! He can do no wrong. +4 Dirty Fighter - Teach them underhanded tactics, sucker punches, eye stabbing, the lot. +2 Bad Luck - Bad luck just happens to find those that oppose the Order; misteps in combat, saying too much about where valuable goods are... +2 Truth - Only those that are committed to following some sort of ideal versus those who just want to scrabble over pocket change can join this order; also, this makes them very good at finding out just where the valuable goods are kept during shakedowns. Ilvis +4 Martial Training - To obviously train these dudes into something resembling fighters. +4 Champion - To give the Order the appearance of more legitimacy, i.e. an iconic Paladin of the force +2 Sacred Sword - Some sort of training ritual thing that solidifies membership in the order. Civar +4 Tinker - For maintenance on the Paladin's Gear +4 Alchemist - For brewing concoctions to "fake" miracles of sorts, as well as uh..hand grenades? +2 Stage Magician - A group of fake Paladins wouldn't be complete without some sort of cheap stage-show tricks to confuse simpletons into believing something amazing was happening +2 Order - Out of chaos, a single uniting force is found behind these men; legitimized brigands as they are, this is one of the core features of the Order. I forgot the other divine qualities that Ilvis and Civar had, so if you guys end up wanting to add to this, go ahead and post those as well 
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Feb 10, 2013 05:08
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Daveron (Arandia, The Order's Keep) Daveron clapped on of the men on his back, a grumpy smile (if there is such thing) forming on his face. "Good haul, Ed." Ed grunts in response, and continues counting the money in front of him. Daveron looks through the men in the Order, and even nods to those who don't seem to follow his tenets as closely as he'd like. Eventually he selects on a special few, and has a secret meeting among them. "You lot, you'll be the men of the order with the power of your word. My own word has carried me thus far, and so hopefully will yours carry you to even further greatness." Using +2 Truth and +2 Bad Luck to make a smaller group of the guys loyal to me (since the guys less fond of legitmized looting probably wouldn't care much for this) the Speakers of Truth. The name is a bit of a fancied up twist of how it actually works. Basically, these guys go out and find some hotspots of questionable legal activity (grey enough that a raid by the Order would look like a bunch of heroes), fleece the guys into where the goods are stored, who the names are of the people involved, that kind of thing. Those being interrogated by those guys feel compelled to say everything truthfully that they can, and those that fail to do so suffer some calamity of bad luck. The proceeds of these endeavors will be split 50 percent renovating the keep (and the men' pockets and whatnot), and 50 percent sent to Ilvis as retirement slush fund.
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Feb 18, 2013 11:15
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Daveron (Arandia, the Order's Keep) Daveron grumbles at those Paladins present, and simply offers, "If poo poo hits the fan, you know what to do." He claps one of the members on the back, "Follow your tenets well, and you'll all be rich." He grabs his things, and heads with Ilvis. Along the way, he keeps and eye for opportunity. Traveling with Ilvis. If bandits pop up (which random roads in the wilderness are sure to have), Daveron's going to +2 Bad Luck them and +2 Truth them into finding their stolen goods while seriously harming them at the same time (then presumably executing them in the name of the Order.
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Feb 26, 2013 14:16
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Daveron (Border of Arandia and Eosia) Daveron, grunts as he lowers himself off his horse, stumbling onto the ground, and slowly pulling himself up off the ground with a groan. "Must not be drunk enough," he mumbles to himself, pulling up his flask, and taking a swig; he brushes some dirt off of his Order badge as he walks over to the guards. "What can I do for you," he gestures his flask to the gaurds, offering some to them. He turns to Civar and Ilvis, and waves them over to him to join in in the conversation.
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Feb 28, 2013 07:13
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Daveron (Eosia, Daveron's Tent) I'm back in, and I'll totally join in on this google doc thingy 
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Jun 13, 2013 06:19
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Daveron - Eosia, Daveron's Camp Daveron grumbled as the others went through the army; he wasn't one to halt an invasion but facing against an entire corrupted populous would be...annoying. He stumbled into the mud, cursing, grabbing a barrel of ale and chugging it, wiping his face off with his hairy arm. With a belch and a grunt he stood up, leaning on the barrel. A grin slowly took his face, and slowly turned into a scowl with gritted teeth, a low growl emanating from his throat that seemed to vibrate with the air around him, and echo out into Eosia north of the camp. It was a call to be answered. He would draw the corruptible out of Eosia, like poision from a wound. Sending out a godly attracting beam to the people of Eosia that would be easy prey for demon-tampering. Daveron's hatred has found a new target; replace bandits with demons, and it searches for those that bury the hate deep within them (those who would be presumably easy for the demons to turn to their advantage); their horses would carry the carriage the wrong direction, their direction-sensing abilities fail, they would know that their time had been chosen for a grim new adventure. Mostly, the call would be sent to those who had buried deep in their minds that were cowards, the easiest pickings for demonic corruption. Using +2 Truth, +2 Hatred, +2 Bad Luck. The idea is to pull corruptibles out of Eosia and march them to the camp. The less resources the demons have to them, the better, presumably.
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Jun 20, 2013 08:38
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Daveron - Daveron's Camp Daveron walks among the rabble that have been arriving, grabbing them by the face to peer into their eyes before shoving them into the mud, with a smirk and a grunt. "Demon-infested scum, most of these men." He points to one of his lieutenants and orders, "Arm some of these men with the worst equipment you can find. If Eosia ends up meeting us on the field they'll have to go through this worthless lot first." Daveron opens up a cask of ale carried by one of the Eosians, nearly stumbling onto some men cowering out of his way. A jingle catches his ears among the rabble, a piercing annoying sound. Walking among the newcomers is some sort of religious man, carrying chimes and burning incense. The man has a grimace on his face, one that looks like he's been wearing for years; just the sort of mettle Daveron was interested in. He shoves through the Eosians and looms over the man, grabbing his shoulder, the chimes jingling. "You," Daveron chuckles, "are due for a grand transformation." The man meets Daveron's eyes coldly, unswayed by his intimidating presence. "You don't belong with the rest of this lot," Daveron gestures to the frightened and confused Eosians, now receiving broken swords and tattered armor. "You were bound for something greater." Daveron places his hand on the chest of the man, and a rumbling shakes the air. The man convulses, and energies erupt from the spot Daveron had touched.  Making the Spirit of the Chimes, an anti-demon of sorts. The Spirit is a powerful (but not too powerful) individual that can sniff out demons. The Chimes create an aura of unease for those that are demon-affected, and bad luck permeates such individuals. It can sniff out demons hiding amongst humans, and it now has a burning hatred for them, seeking only to fulfill its task. It's basically free to wander around Eosia and Arandia, though will inform Daveron, Ilvis, and Civar as well as the members of the Order as to what/where/when demon activity arises, if it succeeds in finding any. Ideally, he could hold his own in a fight against a demon, what with the bad luck affecting them. Using +2 Truth, +2 Hatred, +2 Bad Luck.
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Jun 24, 2013 05:19
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Daveron - Daveron's Camp Daveron grabs one of his lieutenants and barks, "Invasion's off for now. We're still holding position here till we sort some things out. If you see any brigands or horse thiefs about, bring me their hands." About to turn away, Daveron looks back and adds, "Position the army so it looks like we aren't going to invade, as well. No sense in stirring up too much reaction." Woops sorry, now it's official.
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Jun 25, 2013 06:17
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Daveron - Daveron's Camp Daveron's arms surge with a power he hadn't known before, and the world spins around him as he slams into the muddy ground; the people around are screaming and running frantically. He steps up and looks around, still in a daze. Grunting, he lumbers over to one of his lieutenants, grabbing his shoulder and leaning on him heavily, and mutters, "You are to follow Civar and Ilvis's orders now..." Holding his head, he wanders over to Civar and Ilvis, his head pounding with a splitting migraine that threatened to knock him unconscious, "This army's yours now...Something...something changed.." He gritted his teeth, and stomped off to the South, shoving a soldier out of the way as he lumbered away from the camp, stumbling a few times before regaining a slow stride. Heading to the Southwestern Sea, not using my action yet. I'm not sure if it takes me the whole time to get there, but I was going to use my action there. Let me know if it's cool to do that or not.
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Jun 27, 2013 08:29
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Daveron - Harvan Daveron stumbled along, from time to time the new energies flexing the limits of his now beyond-mortal mind, though he still hungered for the drink that kept his mind dull; he shoved his way into a tavern, socking people in the face and drinking their grog in hopes of dousing the pounding in his head. He wandered through Harvan like this for hours, a blight upon the town itself; many fell to accidents, others grew to murder and other assorted violence. Stumbling, he made his way out of Harvan, but in his wake he left something that would trouble those there for generations. Continuing Southwest, but making a pitstop in Harvan to blight it, and more or less leaving a really lovely mark on it for a while to come. +2 Bad Luck to shatter mirrors, break ankles, poor fencing swings, that kind of thing. Everyone's down on there luck here. +2 Truth because anyone that steps into Harvan will know at their core that this place is no good. +2 Hate to make those that dwell here any length of time grow to eventual murderous or other deeds of ill-intent. +2 Death so that crops won't grow, farm animals die, people's constitutions drop. With any luck, the thug-paladin Order of Daveron's will weather the worst effects of this, but hey, if they gotta eat part of this poo poo sandwich, the more the merrier.
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Jul 2, 2013 08:32
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Daveron - Harvan The days dragged on in Harvan, now twisted by the dark influence that grew around him. Daveron smirked as ale dribbled down his chin, looking at the rabble before him, protesting to their new King about their trials and tribulations. One particular groveler caught his eye, and he beckoned them closer with a gruff wave. Daveron grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close, the smell of old ale causing the man to gasp, "You... I see something special in you." Daveron grinned, "You will be the voice of Harvan, and you and I will cleanse the world of the rot that is inside of us." He set the man down, and extended his hand, opening it; within were many crystals, seeming to resonate the desolation that had visited this region as of late.  "Take these, give these to those who want to escape this place, but know in their hearts they can never truly leave." Daveron chuckled as he slumped back into the throne, "This is our home now, our place to kick our feet up." Coalescing the desolation here into super concentrated crystals, then getting them spread out. Basically using them as a magnet to draw in both people that are into this twisted kind of thing as well as those too weak to resist. It's a big ol poo poo party here in Harvan. +2 Truth, +2 Death, +2 Hate, +2 Bad Luck.
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Jul 19, 2013 08:39
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Daveron (Harvan Castle?) Daveron speaks briefly to the Rag Man, as he calls him, before turning to a groveling servant. "Bring the newly dead. I want the bodies that were charlatans and brigands, cutthroats and purse-thiefs." The man shakes as Daveron leans his face to him, and growls, "If there is but one body in that pile undeserving of those titles, I will hang your guts from the castle walls." Daveron kicks the man in the face. Turning back to the "Rag Man," Daveron waves to another servant, and has him bring forth a barrel of poorly aged ale. "The taste is rotten, but it is the best this pathetic place can offer," Daveron grumbles. "It's yours." As a body gets dropped off infront of the castle, Daveron adds, "These be the bodies of the unfortunate and unworthy. Do what you want with them." After dismissing himself, Daveron walks the City, stopping frequently to quench his firey thirst. There must be more left of his blood, though if they survived was another matter. "My Kin is the Right to Rule Arandia," he mutters, almost in a chant, socking a passer-by in the face. Down the street, he repeats the chant, and breaks the next mans jaw... He then sends his voice to Ilvis, "My neice, or nephew, or whatever you possibly are now, our family's time has come. I'm drawing the sick out of the world, the corrupt, the weak, and eliminating them. The poison that corrupts society will slowly be rendered stale and insignificant. We started that day with the bandits...now it has blossomed into something new.." First off, ordering the servants of Daveron to get a corspe crew, get every body of a terrible person in a pile infront of the castle. Then, using godly powers to instill Daveron and Ilvis's bloodline as the rightful (and divinely-backed) rulers of Arandia. Using +2 Truth to enforce it, +2 Death (the death of the bloodline renders it moot), and +2 Bad Luck (The way I'm thinking, it would be probably awful for any surviving bloodline members that aren't divinely gifted to head back to Harvan for any reason...though surely with bad luck those reasons would manifest themselves).
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Aug 7, 2013 06:45
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Daveron - Harvan Daveron gets word from the lich about some warband descending on Harvan, and goes about mustering defenses as grumpily (and drunkly) as possible. "Assemble men!" Daveron hobbles over to one of the towers at the castle, bellowing orders this way and that. "Something that would want to assault this forsaken hole has got to be a terrible thing to behold," he grumbles, spilling mead down his corroded armor. For the first time in what seemed forever, Daveron felt a very clear uncertainty. That someone would bear arms against a place not worth assaulting made his brain do convoluted loops of cause and effect, going back through the events that happened. Preparing what meager defenses Harvan proper must have left in the face of a possible invasion, then heading with a retinue of Daveron's Order to meet with the lich in the off chance that some "diplomacy" might be on the table.
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Aug 18, 2013 22:07
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Daveron - Harvan, Palisade Daveron reeled from the kick, mostly from coming back from the verge of a drunken stupor. He looked upwards in mute confusion, his mouth hanging open as he saw Ilvis's shape elevating higher and higher...the last of his divinely-blooded kin (that he knew of). A deep rumbling came from his gut, distant at first, but building, and his lips trembled. His eyes began to glow a light growing in intensity, and a godly belch erupted from his lips, his ill-omens and drunken stupor leaving his form in an explosion of divine energy and spittle; a beam of light shot from his mouth toward Ilvis's form, enveloping her. Daveron clutched his gut as the light grew hotter and hotter, and all those depraved and wicked in Harvan scurried for shelter, for they knew that the eye of judgement had come... Daveron's back online. Picking up the domains mentioned before. Using the mega action to turn Ilvis into a demon-hating/wicked-hating moon with that super action. Basically comes out at night and scares the poo poo out of demons/the weak/the cowardly/the corruptible (possibly even injuring or harming the weaker ones, and/or impairing supernatural abilities that those types of people use?) Using Knowledge (a massive collected dossier on all the kinds of things that demons find scary) Truth (demons and their ilk probably use a means to hide or disguise themselves....well the Moon of Judgement will figure that poo poo out pretty quick) Hate (The moon hates all those listed above, burns with a ...moonly malice) and Death (Ultimately the fear that the Moon puts in them is the fear of annihilation without delay or remorse).
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Aug 31, 2013 07:39
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Daveron, Harvan "I was never known for good ideas...merely practical ones," Daveron grumbled loudly, a nod to confirm that he felt like he knew what he was talking about. Daveron sloppily signed paperwork and waved for more to be brought to him, as he attempted to ignore the rumbling and chaos around him as the moon began to form. "Just to let you know," Daveron turned his head to the Lich, yelling over the din, "I really hate that I give a poo poo about this place now!"
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Sep 2, 2013 06:47
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Daveron - Harvan Daveron rubbed his eyes, his blurred vision clearing for the first time in ages. He moved his hand around, amazed, his mouth hanging slightly open. How quick it was! How reactive! Looking around, he set shovels and ladders around him (from discarded supplies from those who fled Harvan), closed his eyes, and walked around. After minutes of timidly treading around, he opened his eyes. He gasped in amazement...he hadn't walked under a single ladder, or stepped on a shovel causing it to pop up and smash him in the face. He grinned and clapped his hand on the Lich's back. "I'm back! The curse is over!" Daveron roared and cheered into the sky. Those few still living in Harvan ran for cover, unsure of what to make of all of this. Seeing a fleeing peasant, Daveron ran to him, quickly overtaking him, and lifted him off his feet by his collar. The peasant squirmed and started crying, yelling "No! Don't! I have a family to fe-" but Daveron bellowed "I'm a nice guy now! I'm nice!" He roared laughter as he shook the man by his collar. He pulled the man close to his face, and growled, "And someone's gotta pay...." The man went pale and limp, and Daveron's face brightened again, and roared with laughter, "But not you!" And he tossed him into the mud, the peasant scrambling away in fear. "Yes," Daveron grinned, "THis will be the second coming of Daveron, to usher in a great era for the world." Daveron turned to regard Harvan, and a his face turned into a frown. "Now I have to do something about this dump..." Daveron's going to remove the blight on Harvan, now that he actually cares about the place, keeping it as a den for the undesireables and a place to make people waste away seems kind of a bad thing in retrospect. Using +2 Truth to cleanse the area of its blight by cleansing the heart and souls of those who dwell there, +2 Knowledge to destroy the intricate bonds of the enchantment, +2 Death to ...kill the enchantment? And +2 Hate, because if it's one thing Daveron hates, it's His Subjects being treated like garbage. Also, sending a letter to the Emporer, as an apology. Finally, ordering people to rebuild this drat place. quote:
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Sep 9, 2013 05:56
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Daveron - Harvan After handing the Lich the Emporer's letter, he turns back to the supplies around the area. Scanning the now-unblighted countryside, he puts his hands on his belt, and slowly walks through town, peasants scurrying out of the way. He grabs a courier by the coat as he runs by, lifting him off the ground. "You there!" Daveron grins at the shaking man, "I need an official account of everything here in this town." Pointing over the horizon he adds, "And that village!" He sets the guy back down, and is about to turn away, and adds, "And get me the finest men you can." Daveron's getting an extremely super detailed breakdown of supplies/stocks/populations/economic/criminal activities and situations across all of Arandia (and then communicating it with the Lich). Using +2 Truth to get the numbers right down to the last bushel of wheat. They come in bushels right? +2 Hatred because Daveron HATES not knowing the exact numbers. +2 Death because the number one death of debt is to inventory, inventory, inventory. And +2 Knowledge because it's probably the most applicable domain. Mundanely ordering the courier (and whoever else might be responsible) to find people that are either good at heart or show some amount of resolve despite all the bad poo poo that went down here.
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Sep 22, 2013 23:48
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Daveron - Harvan It was many days that Daveron walked Harvan, going over the details of his most recent reports. It wasn't enough, he hadn't done enough to rectify his mistakes, the errors of his decades-long drunken stupor. Then it struck him; he still had barrels and barrels of the liquid left in various holdings throughout Arandia! Rubbing his freshly shaved face, his eyes were brighter, and the bags under them were almost gone...but there was always temptation. Then it struck him! He could use all those stores for good, not just for him, but all those of Arandia! The peasants of Arandia, who still rightly feared him, crawled out of their dwellings and were curious to see him strolling while whistling a tune, dumping his barrels of alcohol into wells and rivers, pouring them in the fields, and ladling spoonfulls to livestock. For fluff, using Daveron's presumably considerable amount of booze to turn it into a mega good vibes potion, and basically reverse-blighting Arandia, centered on Harvan. People that stay in the region become stronger, of better character, are nearly immune to disease, corruption, and weakness due to the permeation of this magic in the water, the food, the air itself. They may even become near-peak in their abilities as mortals, but I leave that to you. Using +2 Knowledge for the region now grants wisdom, training, ideals; +2 Truth to bring out the core goodness and strength of mortals, and for them to resist corruption and greed; +2 Death to kill off the weaknesses and fears inside of them, and to make their bodies stronger to disease and such.
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Oct 7, 2013 03:05
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Daveron -Ha-Holy poo poo a Dragon Daveron drops one of the barrels, his eyes looking up into the sky seeing the dragon swoop down. "Alright," he mutters, "So dragons are A Thing." He grabs a flail from his waist, and yells, "To glory, men!" to the peasants in the immediate area, and most of them scatter. Attacking the dragon with +2 Truth, because this thing is obviously some sort of corruption of a purer form, +2 Death to have baleful energies strike it in it's core, +2 Knowledge because thankfully Daveron read about dragons in the Lich's books in his downtime, and +2 Hate because Daveron hates dragons. Flipping out as well. Defending/attacking the invasion with the same? Zombie #246 fucked around with this message at 04:55 on Oct 9, 2013 |
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Oct 9, 2013 04:52
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Drageron - Harvan "Who the hell was Civar," Daveron groans, spitting blood through his broken face. "Alright, let's do this." He starts coughing, and vomiting, and within a few hours he has become a dragon. 
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Oct 9, 2013 06:01
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Drageron - Remains of Harvan Daveron recognized the Lich, and roars, "You once saved me from damnation, and for that, you'll forever be granted no ill will," and with that he hacked and sputtered and flew off in the night, leaving Bryn behind.
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Oct 9, 2013 23:51
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Drageron - Moon impact in 3...2.. No one was sure how he did it, but in the time Daveron had snuck off, he had become incredibly wasted. "Yeah I'll grab yer thing," he mumbles, stumbling over his gigantic dragon feet, and slamming into Bryn's body. "Who the hell is that," he mutters, kicking the body idly. He grabs the phylactery from the Lich..Dracolich... and is slightly disappointed when he can't manage to pop the top off to take a swig. Daveron drunkenly flies away, but not before going, "Hey, get the hell outta here, you want to DIEEE" to the Drakenkin. Yelling at the dragons with +2 Dragon to  New Sheet Truth +2 Hate +2 Dragon +2 Death +2 Drunk -2
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Oct 10, 2013 03:04
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Daveron Daveron groaned, scratching the scale that hid the Lic....Dracolich's phylactery, somehow managing to hold a cask of ale throughout this long sleep. "How long was a I sleeping," Daveron growled, sparks of flame shooting between his teeth. He gave a couple of long sniffs in the air, sensing the area around him. Using Truth +2 and Dragon +2 to figure out what's in my immediate area.
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Oct 23, 2013 05:12
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Daveron - Hidden Cave Daveron belches, coins falling out of his mouth and into his pile. He stares at it a moment, caught up in it; he had never realized how beautiful coins were, being born into wealth it was just a second nature to have it at hand. He picked up a coin with a claw idly, watching it glimmer in his vision. The dragonkin coughed uneasily below him, and he turned to look back down. "You have done well," Daveron chuckled. "I will give you purpose, I will give you a new life." Daveron rubbed his guts, and slowly, agonizingly, his jaw detached, and a large slime coated egg slithered out, and rolled down the pile, coming to rest at a dip in coins. A heartbeat could be heard from it. "Take care of my children, and you shall grow to be more than you could know..." Daveron's gut rumbled, and he lowered his maw to loose another egg...  Making this cave a source of Dragon Eggs, though I'd rather not have them hatch yet (as I'm going to do some further actions), just making it more of a Dragon Egg Generator, with the Dragonkin as caretakers, raisers, tamers, educators. It has the plus side that the dragonkin will become stronger, more reliable, braver, etc when near this cave, but they lose these if they leave it. +2 Truth and +2 Dragon.
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Oct 31, 2013 01:38
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| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 23:06 |
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Daveron - Hidden Cave So Daveron sat for a time, egg after egg falling from him, between taking swigs of ale that he magically conjured. Making more dragon eggs, throwing in all the domains as I figure eventually I'm going to go for dragons with "types" related to Daveron's domains. +2 Truth +2 Hatred +2 Death +2 Disaster +2 Dragon.
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Nov 2, 2013 00:10
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