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 Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys As the evening advances over the lizardfolk's encampment, Walks-Among-the-Stones observes the ruins of Etranoxx, from the relative safety of the tents. He knows there are guards all around the tents, twelve in all, ready to give the alarm should something happen, and that the rest of his tribe is sleeping with their spears nearby and is ready to pounce out of their resting places were it to be sounded; but still he is not tranquil. He can feel in his gut that there are menaces nearby, maybe even more than in the traitorous jungles they have already braved. Getting everyone this far into the canopy with as little losses as they have already took all of his prudence and expertise. To drop their guard now, in the shadow of the Black Ziggurat would be to invite even more disaster than they are already doing. Still, the chieftain does not know what else to do to appease his own sense of worry: in the last three days they have scouted the perimeter of the city twice without seeing anything scarier than a timid lizard and on the third one they finally entered and started studying the mysterious writings and scrounging up the place for anything that could be useful. The implications of those engravings are... dizzying, to say the least. Lizardfolk, some of them immense judging by the difference in size with the humans, keeping whole herds of them as chattel and servants. Is that how lizardfolk used to live, back when this city was built? Such might they must have had, that they could enslave humans, and build such buildings, and even the Black Ziggurat! They must have been incredibly mighty. Now, if only he could manage to get some of that might for himself; some advanced tools, or some secret knowledge, or something, all the pain they had to go through to reach this place would have been justified. It was as he was immerse in his thoughts, a loud hiss alarmed him and the nearby guards. Immediatley, they sprung to action: there are beasts that if allowed to pass through the guard perimeter, can spell death for the whole encampment if not taken down, and worse yet, there are beasts that they know nothing about. He orders one of the guards to stay there and the other one to follow him, and clutching his talisman-covered club, he ran towards the sounds of battle.  What sort of beasts attack an encampment many dozens of warriors strong? And what irritating, fearless beasts these are: they skitter around and between legs, they jump all over the place and, if they notice that one of them is cornered, are always ready to bite at the legs of the aggressor long enough to allow the other one to escape. It is an odd sort of battle, as the beasts seem content to disturb the lizardfolk, and are giving no signal of wanting to reach the pantry or nests with the eggs. Walks Among the Stones' is cold and efficient as he directs his warriors, but the sinking feeling in his gut has only gotten worse. No natural beast acts like this; if these were humans, he'd say that the only possible explanation is for this to be a distra-  A sharp pain in the left knee, another one at the right foot. How did he not hear them coming? A pull and he falls, face first on the ground. The guard, he had left a guard there. He is being dragged away, the warriors are shouting. More bites now, they are dragging him, they are working together, they are-  His head impacts against a rock. There is a moment of hurt and confusion, than he raises himself with his hands, just in time to see his encampment slip away from view ;for a moment, he sees the corpse of the guard he had left behind to stand its guard against an ambush such as this one, on the ground with two of these cursed lizards picking at the fresh cadaver. They stand at attention, seeing him being dragged away like this, and they join their companions. Any attempt to right or free himself is met with bits at the fingers, than near the eyes. They are warning him not to attempt to run. He can't see it with his eyes, all they see is the ground under him and the lizards, but he knows where they are going. He can see the Black Ziggurat in his mind very clearly, towering over him like a crocodile over a gecko. For my Horror action, I will activate my Compsos Servitor aspect with a point of Aberrance and use it to Awfully Create an Advantage to "gain an audience", so to say, with the Scavenger. Kidnapping the Scavenger: 4dF+3 2 Since the difficulty was set at +2, this is a tie and I succeed, but I will generate a Mystery, presumably involving kidnapping lizards. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 12:48 on Apr 4, 2016 |
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Apr 3, 2016 01:40
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys In an immense Ziggurat, hidden away somewhere in the Praxian jungles, an immense form stirs in its sleep. His dreams are better than they used to be; his visions are filled with warm visions of the jungle, and anticipation for its upcoming return. He can feel the immense slashes on his skin closing, his body slowly ejecting arrows and spears with wet sounds followed by the satsifying clink of the weapons hitting the stone ground. Not long now until he won't have to settle for airy visions of his past dominion, as soon as the rest of the Compsos are reunited with the ones already in the Ziggurat. Buy now he feels something else: a presence, within his very Ziggurat. An intruder? His tongue darts out of his mouth. No, there is no taste of any mammal that could have found him within miles. But then what? He stirs again, his immense tail describing an arc as he ponders. He hears a Compso picking up something, scratching her head and briskly making her way to his resting place. She places the object, which must be what he just perceived. His eye opens an inch. It looks like some sort of flattened leaf, inscribed with words in some language. He can feel that the intent is for this to be a greeting of some sort. Must be a new custom of some sort in this world. Still, whoever managed to get this message in here must be mighty indeed, in a cunning, supernatural sort of way, and the Champion respects might. This one deserves an answer. A low growl is heard in the Ziggurat, resounding throughout its halls and rooms and causing the Compsos to lower their head in fear. The meaning the Tyrant injects into it pushes its way throughout creation, expanded and magnified by the ancient palace itself. It travels at frequencies that cannot be heard by humans, but to its recipient it is perfectly clear. quote:We greet you, stranger-stalker. Who are you, that speak to us with leaves and place them into our house without us tasting you? Satisfied, the Tyrant settles down, ready to focus on resting once again. But just as he starts to get comfortable, he hears another greeting, this one spoken, and much more primal than the first. His hisses in a way that could be considered a chuckle, glad to hear someone with as direct an attitude as his. His answer reverberates once again throughout his Realm. The Compsos are extremely unhappy. quote:We greet you, beast-shouter. Who are you, that we can hear through great distance and whose hunger we taste still? There. Now to rest a little and wait an eventual answer. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Zarkai can taste the excitement of the Compsos as they make their way back to Etranoxx; they lack the sharp taste of fear on them, which indicates that they have succeeded in their mission. Good. There aren't that many of them now, it would be a shame to devour a couple of them to drive into their tiny heads the consequence of failure. But then he... hears? No, he's not exacly hearing. This is a message sent directly into his skull! An aboleth! A fellow primordial, like him still alive throughout these millenia. He raises his head and although he emits a small roar, all things considered, his enthusiasm is still heard by all creatures in the jungle, causing a nearby flock of parrots to take flight. quote:We greet you as well, Auluudh fish-psychic! We have slept as well, and do not know what happens beyond our domain. Some hatchling race of lizard-monkeys dares to take in my old home, but they will be taken care of right now. Are there monkey of some kind in your home as well? I forgot to mention that my earlier action was the Horror action, I edited that post now. Since I have not Cults or Agents, the rest of this turn is mostly going to be chatting up the other horrors. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 12:46 on Apr 4, 2016 |
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Apr 4, 2016 12:44
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys quote:It is! It is! We are the Last and Greatest Tyrant, we thought you already knew. We have heard stories of fish-psychics as well. You had many slaves, symbol of power and prestige! But we have not seen any of yours since we have awakened. We do not know where they might be. Remembering his humiliating defeat causes Zarkai to thrash about for a second and hiss in frustation. But as he does so, he imagines that the aboleth must also feel that way. So he adds: quote:We hope it is not so for your kin.
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Apr 4, 2016 14:19
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys The Tyrant mulled over the information his fellow primordial had revealed. Monkeys in the sea! What a weird world this had become. Should something be done about them? But it would not be easy to track them deep into their watery lairs. Well, the aboleth seemed to have them under control, and he supposed that if they didn't bother him and there was plenty of prey on land, that would not be necessary. quote:These lizard-monkeys, they are not related to ape-monkeys. They have not rebelled, they may be spared yet if they learn their place. They are struggling against the jungle, they are weak and undisciplined. Barely bigger than Compsos. They have captured their chief-warrior, they are- Zarkai interrupts himself. He tastes a commotion nearby the Ziggurat. It seems his servant have returned. quote:They come! They have their chief-warrior! We must leave, we must attend to the chief-warrior. We will speak to you again in the coming days.
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Apr 4, 2016 14:51
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys Sitting on the protruding branch of a tree, back resting against the trunk, Climbs-the-Canopies was disappointed not to find the peace this activity usually brought her. She always felt at peace up in the trees, away from her earthly troubles and the cursed eggs she was supposed to constantly be watching. She had developped, over the years, an intense dislike for her role of guardian that she was expected to follow; and while she was allowed to join raids on occasion, after that brief spike of adrenaline it was back to the nests with her. She would have switched to male many seasons ago if there weren't always bigger, stronger females in her way, also waiting to switch. The tribe would not allow her to compromise its number of breeding pairs just so she could do as she pleased, so she had had no choice but to wait. And now, on top of everything else, the tribe was split in the middle of a deadly jungle and she was stuck here with the eggs. At least, when she had proposed that she should go up a tree to act as a lookout, no one had raised an objection, even though it was clear that she was doing this for her own benefit and not to be of any help. There was a sense of futility hanging in the camp; they were too few to actually provide any protection for the eggs, and once any one of the many, many predators inhabiting those jungles would notice, they would be massacred. A series of movements caught her eye, pushing away those dreary thoughts momentarily. She couldn't actually see much in the thick canopy of the jungle, but she still couldn't miss the movement that was everywhere: a pack of wolf-sized lizards, with huge many-toothed mouths, scattered a little ways beyond her tree; an immense python slowly slithered not far from them; another lizard, even bigger than the pack hunters, sporting huge bulging eyes, a curled tail and a bright orange coloration, made its way a couple of trees away from her. More and more animals seemed to move with unerring precision towards the lizardfolk camp. And in the middle of all of them... "Scale-birds! The same ones that got Walks-among-the-Stones!" Climbs-the-Canopy descended, feeling a sense of dread settle in her heart. ------------------ "Protect the eggs to your last breath!" shouted the biggest female in the camp, teeth gritted and spear pointed at the ever-growing mass of scales and teeth and claws. The egg-guardians had formed a patethically flimsy perimeter around the nests, and each and every one of them their instincts to protect the eggs and their survival instincts telling them to flee. Yet, the animal horde did not advance, and seemed content with standing around them, hissing and growling. "The last time animals acted this unnaturally, we lost our chieftain." thought Climbs grimly. Than a sound, great and terrible, that could not be defined a voice even by the loose standards of the lizardfolk, roared through the clearing, shaking the beastmen to the bone; and yet it carried meaning that they could understand on an instictual level. If we wanted to eat you, would be dead ten times over by now, hatchlings. Every breath you take from now on is a gift from the Champion of Praxis. The lizardmen gripped their spears tighter. This was an unknown enemy, one they did not know how to react to. The one that had commanded her earlier spoke again. "Who and what are you, creature? What do you want from us?" You come into our city, expecting to raid it and steal from it like the jackals you are, and expect us to take no revenge? Do you think us corpses, to loot and devour as you please? Panicked whispers go through the defensive lines. A Tyrant! They had awoken a Tyrant! "W-we did not know! We didn't mean to-" But you did, hatchling. Yet our presence has not been felt in some time in Praxis, and we have uses for egg-guardians; you might still save yourselves. You will serve us, hatchlings. We have no reason not to feed you to our more loyal servants, otherwise. It took one look at the slavering army of animals in front of them to convince the egg-guardians to throw their spears down and show their throats in a gesture of submission. ---------------------------------------------- quote:As an Horror Action, Zarkai will use his Compsos aspect supported by his free invocation of his harbinger aspect Blood of the Tyrant to Dreadfully create a cult at difficulty +0: It is good that you understand your place, hatchlings. We want one of you to serve us immediately. Your old chieftain has escaped our compsos, and we want him brought to us. No one immediately volunteered. Surrendering to what was clearly a superior opponent was one thing, but to go into this forsaken jungle to find a lizardman? That maybe was already dead? "I will serve you, Champion of Praxis." A smallish lizardwoman took a step forward. All animals' eyes focused on her. What are you called, hatchling? "Climbs-the-Canopy, Champion" Why do you want to serve us so, Climbs-the-Canopy? The beastman did not know how to respond to this. The truth, hatchling. We will taste it if you lie to us. "...I do not wish to guard eggs anymore, Champion. If serving you directly will get me away from these nests, I will." A gravelly sound was heard, like gravel being scratched by claws. Some part of Climbs interpreted it as laughter. Very well, Climbs-the-Canopy. We have uses for warrior-stalkers as well. As long as you serve us faithfully, be sure that you shall guard no eggs. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- quote:Cult Action: The Nest Guard will Restlessly recruit an Agent at difficulty +1. paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 21:28 on Apr 7, 2016 |
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Apr 7, 2016 18:00
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys Walks-Among-the-Stones limped his way through the jungle, cursing it and every beast that lived in it. The burst of power and adrenaline that the blood had given him had allowed him to outrun the scale-birds, an appreciable result given their agility and their size in this labyrinth of trees, but being eaten by a wyrmhound as opposed to a legion of smaller lizards wasn't much of an improvement. Nor is dying of an infection., he thought, resisting the urge to poke his now empty eyesocket. The pulsing pain had not subsized and while he was no shaman, he guessed that was not a good sign. What I need to do is rest for a while and collect my thoughts. I have put enough ground between me and those little monsters, I can afford to... He had barely begun to sit down when a javelin flew from the canopy and landed a foot from him his tail. Without hesitation, he bolted amongst the trees once more. ----------------------------------------------------- You weren't really tired before, old man. Now you are. thought to herself Climbs-the-Canopy, about two hours later, as she jumped from one tree to another following the mad dash of her former chieftain through the jungle. She knew full well that she could not hope to match him in an honest fight, so she opted for the same strategy that the tribe used to hunt the mammoth iguana; stalk it and tire it out. With the height advantage that she had and knowledge of the terrain that the Compsos had shared with her, by guiding her through it and screeching whenever a choke point or other place of interest was found, she knew it was only a matter of time before the time to strike came. Right on cue, the imposing figure of Walks-Among-the-Stones collapsed, and confident Climbs-the-Canopy dropped from treetops, already reaching for the fiber rope she was carrying. At the very last second, she noticed that the other lizardman's eyes were still open a fraction of an inch. She jumped back, just in time to avoid the swishing tail of her opponent, that would surely have knocked her down. Walks raised himself, hissing a challenge at the younger beastwoman and charging at her, mouth agape and claws at the ready. Zarkai's newest emissary readied her javelin, hoping that he would impale himself upon it, but the warrior was far to clever for that and moved to swat away the weapon. She backed down and the chieftain pressed her, forcing her to back down against the trees. "I will eat your heart for this, hatchling!" shouted Walks, charging at his opponent, but nimble Climbs-the-Canopy immediately dropped the javelin and jumped to the right, reaching for a low branch; she immediately raised herself on it and climbed to another one, out of reach of her landbound chieftain. Seeing her prepare another javelin, Walks-among-the-Stones hissed in frustration and ran once more. As she followed him, her answer was heard among the foliage: "This is the second time today that someone calls me an hatchling, but the first one was much worthier than you, old fool!". quote:As my Agent Action, I'll have Climbs-the-Canopies attempt to Restlessy subvert the Scavenger: Climbs-the-Canopy chases the Scavenger to exhaustion: 4dF+2 0
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Apr 9, 2016 16:10
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys quote:Free invocations and boosts: Motivated to Excel (Climbs-the-Canopies, used this turn) Walks-Among-the-Stones' immense figure towered over Climbs-the-Canopies, arms raised and ready to stomp her. Her brain desperately struggled to find some way to escape her situation. It was too late for begging now and she couldn't hope to dodge it: her opponent was too large and had too long a reach for her to get out of the way in time. No, there was only one course of action that could possibly allow her to leave to see another dawn. She jumped onto her opponent's torso and clinged to it, sinking her claws into her opponent's armor; taking advantage of the element of surprise, she sunk her teeth into his neck and ripped at it, sending little chunks of bloody flesh flying; her body burns with energy, really burns, it almost hurts, has it been that long since she tasted blood? She barely feels it when Walks grabs her and throws her on the ground. Her head bounces against a rock, and even in her heigthened state she can still feel the hurt, still feel her movements getting sluggish. Doesn't matter. She almost has him now, and she will bring him to Zarkai (when has she heard the name Zarkai?) one way or the other. quote:Reaction: Climbs-the-Canopies Awfully defends: 4dF+4 0 Meanwhile, back at the nest camp... The discovery of this new patron has emboldened the lizardfolk. They animately discuss the implications of this development, some saying that this is the occasion to get back at the hated Murkwake, some going so far as to say that the neighboring human kingdoms isn't bound to survive for long now. Whatever the long term plan is, they must decide what to do now, of course. The Compsos are unlikely to disturb them any longer, so they should be able to hunt in peace, even in their now limited number; it's too early in the season for another sex change, but given the circumstances nobody objects to an hunting party composed of females. But an idea spreads among the ones that stayed behind: their new patron, it spoke of fighers and stalkers and guardians. He is a warrior, clearly, one who values strenght; and yet he is served by creatures that, while cunning and agile, are not as mighty as the lizardfolk. Why should they be treated like hatchlings and not these scale-birds? The pecking order needs to be changed a bit. And so they sharpen their spear, and patrol the jungle and prepare to show these so-called Compsos what for (they still don't dare to search for them in Etranoxx proper though). But they cannot be found. The only sounds in the jungle are the normal chirping of birds and hissing of small vipers. Either they know even more secret ways in the jungle or they are somewhere else entirely. But where could they be? quote:Cult Action: the Nest Guard tries to grant me a free activation of King of the Jungle by establishing dominance, feeding into Zarkai's tyrannical nature: 4dF+2 0 Since the difficulty was +3 there is no saving this roll. It's a failure and nothing happens. Among the ziggurats of Etranoxx... The Compsos run excitedly from one ancient building to another. They leave offers of flowers and smoking meat at the top of certain ziggurats, disposed in a precise manner; dozens of them are all busily placing all these offerings in the proper position and hissing invocations. This is not supposed to be their job; they are servants, not priest-warlocks, and the presumption of acting in such disregard of their place in life would have cost them their lives in another time. But there are no more priests-warlocks, and the Last and Greatest Tyrant is not strong enough yet to perform these rites himself; yet they must be practiced, for the jungle is a precious ally that should be honored and respected, and for too much time the ancient compact has not been honored. So much time, in fact, that the poor Compsos have had to travel far and wide in the jungle to get thier claws on ingredients rare and powerful enough to start once again what was once a deal honored on a regular basis. They went in the territories of mighty and terrible beasts, and not all of them escaped unscated, or at all, but they have been given a mission and they are determined to complete it. Even after all this time, the jungle has not forgotten its old friend. As soon as the proper tributes are honored, a breeze shuffles the treetops and navigates towards the city. Even the Compsos, whose sense aren't nearly as sharp as their master's, can feel it bringing tastes and smells coming from all over Praxis, whispering of saurians and corpse-flowers and battles fought between animals and between beastmen. In the Ziggurat of the Tyrant, an immense tongue darts out, tasting this air so rich of secrets and information. A low hiss of satisfaction answers the wind. quote:Horror action: the Compsos will Restlessly create a "tower" called the Winds that Taste, bringing precious information from all over the jungle to Zarkai on breezes that taste of everything that steps among the trees. http://orokos.com/roll/393688: 4dF+2 1 paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 13:07 on Apr 19, 2016 |
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Apr 19, 2016 00:51
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Zarkai Last and Greatest Tyrant, Champion of Praxis, Eater of Monkeys In the depths of his Ziggurat, Zarkai considered the offer of his fellow primordial. He snapped his jaws and flicked his tongue, considering his options. As loathe as he was to admit it, there was only one piece of information as valuable as one of these secrets that he had to offer. He inhaled sharply, roared his reply and listened to it navigate through the jungle and beyond. quote:We greet you, fish-psychic! We will accept your Secret about the elder races, and in exchange we will reveal you the Riddle of Blood, of the growth and power hidden within the flesh of monkeys, and of how the beast races came to be. Satisfied, he prepared to focus once again on resting and healing, when he heard something else: Theantero posted:
Another one! And this one... it seemed to hunger for Secrets as well! And was offering many of the same ones that Auluudh had! How peculiar. In his isolation, he had perhaps forgotten the value of communication and trade for a war effort. This needed to be fixed. But not now. Now, he must rest. But even as he rests, his tongue occasionally darts out, trying to get a taste of other Horrors.
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Apr 27, 2016 22:51
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