Across the Four Great Islands (Fantasy RP) *Now Recruiting Again*

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VoltySquirrel:


I'll just leave that there.

Fixed it. Sorry, I forgot I added that second spell.

Stealthy, if you don't use it, I'm hurting you.

Cool, I like the rage thing. Accepted.

ALRIGHT! IN CHARACTER FROM HERE ON IN! (except for this last part down here. For other OOC stuff, spoiler tag it, kthx) For a final suggestion, READ BOOKS. No seriously, a library can help you out in dire situations. I'll PM the info to you, so the knowledge goes to who took the time to look it up.

Our story starts in Enlis, where many adventurers have gathered for a large tournament.

Wanted posters have been placed all over Galath, the Enlis capital. A criminal organization known as Black Dusk has been attacking the town guards and attempted attacks on the higher rankings of the city. High amounts of gold have been offered to the capture, or even any information leading to them. Naturally, you seem to be quite interested in it.

You've heard from taverns and conversations here and there about the Black Dusk. They steal, they murder, they're ruthless, but their main target seems to be the ruling powers of Enlis, and the Red Dawn, Galath's famed knights. Some say they are a group of trolls with a vengeance carrying from the recent Human-Troll War. A well regarded tale is that they are minions of a dragon, who wishes to take control of Enlis, and use their army to take the rest of the nations under its banner. The government officials say that they are mere hooligans and cretins from Cault that just don't like Enlis, but are dangerous nonetheless.

It is unknown where they reside, but others say that they are recruiting men as well, possibly for some big attack. What do you believe?

The happenings of the Black Dusk are all too quickly covered up by the Knight's Cup, an annual tournament that sprouted to challenge the best of fighters to a friendly tournament...

Town Square - Message Board
IC: Jimmy the Quick

He looked left, he looked right. Then up, and then down. Now pocketing his handbag, he slowed to a halt, now that the guards had lost his trail. It came to no surprise, since Jimmy the Quick's trail couldn't be followed by the most experienced hunter. Now strolling along, being sure to stay within the large crowd's center, he began to change his jacket, put on a top hat, pull out a cane and a pair of spectacles, and begins to walk with a swagger. His trail was now completely cold, as he began to head to the message board to play a lute near the Knight's Cup advertisement poster.

"Come now, don't miss your chance!
Eight fighters now advance!
Wonders, grace, strength, and bliss,
The Semi-Finals are not to miss!"

TAG: Everyone

As that night was beginning to close, so did the eyes of Galath.

Lucien, Vethus, and the rest of the remaining eight warriors are saying their goodnights to one another. Jeisten is in a room with Tarln the Yalok after their battle.

The Arena - Medical Room
IC: Tarln

As Jeistan entered the room, Tarln wheeled around, as soaking bandages wrapped around his cuts dripped slightly onto the ground, with Tarln's magic beginning to chill the liquid to a crystalline form. "Hello, Jeistan. I never got a chance to congratulate you. It was a grand battle. One day, I hope we may once again fight one another. Would be an honor." Tarln bellowed proudly, giving a smile as best as he could coping with the injuries. "Do you have any wounds? My bandages can sew up gashes and fix any muscle strains." He replied, turning to reach for a bandage, stopping when he noticed a small bag and card on the table to an empty medical bed. Tarln limped toward it, and picked up the note, looking at it with focused eyes.

TAG: Fatscalyman

More and more adventurers gathered to Galath, some to see the amazing warriors in action, some come for the bounty on the Black Dusk, and the rest... who's to say?

The Arena-Medical Room
IC: Jeistan D'Terehei

Jeistan bowed to his former adversary, noting mentally how easily he had overwhelmed the Yarbolg with his speed and cunning. While he was at top discipline for outmaneauvaring melee warriors, he gave thought to his strategy for fighting a spellcaster. Raising his head, he spoke in a friendly tone.
"The fight was an honourable and fair one, and to be honest you gave me a bit of trouble. I would be glad to duel you in the future, my friend," he said.
"As for my wounds, they are not but what will heal quickly on their own. I thank you for the concern, Tarln."

TAG: Tiki

The Arena - Medical Room

IC: Tarln

Tarln took a bow to Jeistan, and returned to look at the card placed on the table. "Would you happen to know who Lucian is? Somebody le-" his words were cut off from the sound of loud shouting. Tarln dropped the bag, letting its contents, a familiar looking chain, spill slightly out, as he limped into the Waiting Room with his club out. "What is the meaning of this noise?"

TAG: Fatscalyman

The Arena-Medical Room
IC: Jeistan D'Terehei

Rather than let his worries consume him and make him weak, Jeistan heightened all of his senses to predator level, making him more alert then usual. Instinctively, his hand went to his blade, the Claw of Terehei, the only known remaining artifact of his clan. In one swift, smooth motion, he drew his blade and readied it, and checked the Aeroshield on his left hand. Ready for any attack, he proceeded cautiously after Tarln, expecting an ambush.

TAG: Tiki

The Outskirts of Kalgorith

Eisicin and his band arrive near the cliffs of Kalgorith, a temple built in honor of the green dragon Kalgor, the Appraiser. A cave at the bottom leads to the top by means of a spiral staircase. At the top, green ivory towers and columns surround the temple, the doors sealed. Rain begins to fall, a rare occasion in Cault. Your group must decide whether or not to sleep inside the cave, or stay outside in the rain.

TAG: Fatscalyman

The Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Eisicin Lizaeus

After hours of travel, hiking, climbing, all in the opposite direction of their last skirmish(after a mildly successful raid on Kobold food stores), Eisicin and his band of refugees gladly welcomed the cooling sensation of the rain. Pulling down the hood which normally shielded him from sunlight, he stopped for a moment, putting his tan face to the sky, allowing his head and hair to be drenched in the water, washing most of the days sweat and filth from his head.
Stopping for a moment to assess the situation, he thought about Kalgor, and his experiences with other dragons in the past. He worked through the logic in his head, and stopped his party to speak to them.
"We've been on overall good terms with dragons in the past," he said. "And if this Kalgorith we have heard of is worthy of a temple built by mortals, he might not be the murderous type. I do not pretend to have all of your best interests at heart, and so we will take a vote. Stay outside, or see if the cave is welcoming."
Eisicin looked from his best friend, Skiq, to the others in the group. Silone, the mute warrior. Then to Isaian, the young archer of only 15, and to Boraf, the 'cook'(in other words, his food tasted revolting less than the others). To Jai, the dark-skinned blacksmith, perhaps the most welcoming in the group, and to Ieolo, the cocky warrior a bit younger than Eisicin, who was in Jai and Seaster's group. Seaster, the least trusting of Eisicin's leadership who merged his group of three with Eisicin's about a year and a half after the revolt which led to their freedom. To Forst, the Dwarf pirate from Roldaki who Eisicin found wandering in a desert after a shipwreck, and to Oivar, the oldest of the group, a veteran legionare, exiled from the Human nation. And to the final member, Skiq's brother, Yesuil, a bit older than Skiq but overly bothered at times, for what reason, none of them knew.
As he looked over his group, he waited for their response, and/or debate.

TAG: Tiki

The Speared Grape Tavern - Corner Table
IC: Terath D'Arigan

The money was running out.

Terath counted the coins again, stacking them in neat lines between the pools of spilled beer on the tabletop. The count came out the same as before: not nearly enough. A brisk perusal of his pockets netted a few more in small change, which he added to the assembled coinage.

Terath sat back and watched the coins intently. When they failed to become more numerous he sighed and swept them back to their various places of concealment. Perhaps, he thought, it had been a mistake to come to Enlis. In Roldaki he had gold stored with trusted factors, a network of contacts to get him jobs, and a somewhat secure position. In Enlis, he had what he was carrying. Admittedly that was quite a lot, but not much of it was coin. The passage from Roldaki had proven to be more expensive than had been expected, for reasons that Terath considered to be highly unfair. He had warned the sailors about the contents of his coat: he shouldn't be expected to pay for repairs after the fools stole from it anyway. Unreasonable captain.

So. Money was rapidly becoming scarce. He considered his options.

He didn't have the contacts in Enlis that he had in Roldaki, contacts that could get him high-paying specialized jobs. Unless he was lucky he'd have to go with general mercenary work. That meant hiring out as a guard (boring) or enlisting in some lord's private army (stupid) or claiming bounties (unreliable).

He'd been in the tavern for long enough to hear conversations about the Black Dusk. They were said to be criminals, or trolls, or even dragons, though the purveyor of that last rumor was too drunk to be remotely believable. There was also supposed to be some hefty bounties on them. Gold, rich and solid. No one from Enlis had been able to claim much of a bounty on them yet, but Terath didn't consider that to mean much of anything. Enlis bounty hunters couldn't claim a bounty on their own asses without clear verbal direction. Bounty hunting was usually unreliable work, but this looked like a sound opportunity.

So. Black Dusk it is then.

Terath stood, pulling his coat up around him. There was gold to be claimed.

TAG: Everyone (I think. Not sure how general narration works with the tag system)
EDIT TAG: Tiki

Galath - Town Square

Before Terath could walk outside, the clashing of weaponry was heard coming from the Arena, despite the first round having finished. People were beginning to gather near it, wondering what the noise was. The tavern suddenly sparked with noise as people demanded to see the Arena ring through the Viewer Screen, although you weren't entirely sure what it was. A large image appeared on one of the walls to reveal that no action was appearing within the ring itself. One man pointed out the moving of figures inside a small room that linked to the entrance gates for the contestants. It appeared that something was happening within the Waiting Room.

TAG: Zelmac, Tirin, and the rest of yous in Enlis.

********************
The Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Olm

The commotion prevented Olm from getting through that crowd. Apparently, losing a single match makes you worth as much as trash. Refusing to use his magic, Olm pushes himself through the crowd manually, finally reaching the doorway. What had caused the commotion was immediately apparent as he walked into the Waiting Room.

A single, now two, and now four, black figures stood before him, each wearing black wraps that covered their entire bodies. Goggles were also worn, but they seemed useless, as their eyes were already covered. Daggers were held in each of their hands, which themselves looked inhuman, like demon claws.

Dropping his book, Olm shoots up roots around one of his assailants. If I can capture them, the others can deliver the finish. The masked man struggled, but in a poof of smoke, he was no longer. It was not long until another took his place. "I NEED SOME HELP HERE!" he yelled, pulling out his staff.

TAG: Fatscalyman

********************
The Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Eisicin's Group

Forst was the first to respond, responding with a hearty laugh. "We take refuge in tha cave! No dragon worth worryin' bout ca fit through there! Not that I don't welcome this rain."

Ieolo shook his head. "We need to worry about kobolds. And personally, I'd rather-"

"Ye worryin' bout wee little o' KOBOLDS? Ahahahaha!" Forst interrupted, then beginning to imitate Ieolo mockingly. "Oh no, what about tha kobolds? I don't want them poking their big spears at meh! And tose big shaarrp teeth scare me britches off!"

Seaster then bends over so that his eyes were level with Forst's, a bend that was intended to mock his size. "Should I remind you that you were almost trampled by the kobolds we raided recently?" he said, half smirking, half annoyed. "It's ridiculous to even suggest we risk out lives in that cave." Seaster said, now upright, looking at the entire group, but glaring harder at Eisicin. "Kobolds are masters of strategic warfare. They outnumber us by hundreds at least, and we'd be giving them a severe advantage by sleeping. We need to stay outside, even if it is raining."

"Yeah, and my bow would be better served outside, not in." Isaisin frowned, shaking the bow in his hands for effect. "If we run the risk of an attack, it'd be better that I could snipe them from a distance, than in close quarters."

"But I don't want a cold..." Oivar complained. "That would be just awful if we needed to sneak around anywhere for food. I would prefer to stay inside."

"Orcs are going to be scouting this area, and who knows what else?" Yesuil informed. "If we stay out here, they're going to spot us. You can see for miles, because there's nothing around. We'd be seen, and killed. At least in the cave, we can hide."

The group then began to argue, and complain with one another loudly. Silone was the one who grabbed the attention of the others by throwing an odd colored stone at the ground, causing a loud cracking sound. Silone then pointed a finger across the horizon, not pointing at anything in particular. After making an almost full turn, he held out his hand, as if to ask "Where?" He smiled and pointed up to the temple. Many of the group gave a confused look, as the mute was not fully understood.

TAG: Fatscalyman

The Arena-Waiting Room

IC: Jeistan D'Terehei

Sensing the figures before actaully seeing them, Jeistan was on alert. He arrived to watch Olm trap a figure, which failed, apparently, as the figure escaped. Sighing at the antics of Olm, he readied his blade, flexed his arms, and charged at one of the figures, with an amazlingly quick slash aimed at the assailant, and the Aeroshield brought up to block any retaliation, from the target or its allies.

TAG: Tiki

Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Eisicin Lizaeus

Quite annoyed at the argument of the group, Eisicin scratched his wet brow, trying to think of a solution. He didn't want to risk another splinter of the group, which would certainly happen if a compromise was not made. Then it came to him, and he nearly smacked himself for missing the obvious solution.
"Listen, brothers. I will take Forst, Seaster, and and Yesuil to scout the cave and ensure that it is suitable for the night. If we find it is safe, we will rest there for the night, set watch shifts, and perhaps explore the tower after breakfast. If not, we can continue moving for another mile, and cram into the three tents we looted from our last skirimish, god rest Aiso's soul."
He made reference to Aiso, the latest casualty in their skirmish with Kobold hunting groups. While the casualty of his best magician was naught to be happy about, he knew the acquired tents would be useful in the future.

TAG: Tiki

The Speared Grape Tavern - Corner Table

IC: Terath D'Arigan

Terath squinted at the Viewer Screen, trying to make out the details of the struggling figures. Unfortunately, there were a couple dozen other drunk patrons crowding around doing the same thing, so that didn't work out too well. Shouting did nothing to relieve the problem, and the other patrons returned thrown elbows with a will. Terath quickly concluded that trying to get a better view of the screen was an exersise in futility.

Fortunately enough, Terath was somewhat more intelligent than the average tavern drunk, and realized that if he could hear the clash of weapons from inside the tavern then the arena wasn't very far off, and he could go off and have a look in person. He tossed the bartender one of his precious remaining coins in exchange for a full tankard and ambled out into the evening air towards the arena, leaving the shouting and increcingly belligerant mob in the tavern.

TAG: Tiki

Galath - Town Square

IC: Lucien Z'rai'thai

The large snake/man hybrid slithered towards the Waiting Room and what he expected to be the source of the commotion, not intending to allow something as simple as what he expected to be nothing more than a simple misunderstanding such as a bet to ruin the tournament - and his future victories. It would be an excellent feeling to prove himself superior to the others, which he firmly believed - they seemed, for the most part, too slow or too weak to stand up to him in a 'fair' fight. Then again, some of them used magic, or magical items to benefit them; The only thing preventing him from leaving them as piles of steaming flesh.

Setting his mind back on course as he entered the room, he was more than observant enough to see what had started it all. Several black-clothed figures (all of them hideous, more likely than not), the lot of them armed. Blades leaving their sheaths with the shrill ring of metal on metal, he took the man to Jeistan's left and met his foe with a flurry of quick slashes from his right hand, his left (hopefully) guarding him from any attempt to counter.

TAG: Tiki

Galath-Town Square

IC: Tronfros Gronintur

"Daddy! Daddy daddy daddy!"

Tronfros opened his eyes and turned his head to look down at the little girl standing nearby, holding her father's hand, pointing at him and jumping up and down. Her father turned around to see what she wanted, then stopped. Fear and suspicion leaped into the man's eyes at once, and he pulled the little girl behind him."C-Come on Isabel. Let's go. Remember what i told you about big, hairy people..." He didn't care to listen to the rest of it. It disgusted him. Among the many things he had learned about humans, the most prominent by far was the fact that they were all cowards. Weak cowards, that couldn't fend for themselves, or their brethren, and thus were constantly running away, or persuading other humans to take the blow for them. It was pathetic. At least there are some who fight, a select few, who are brave enough to stand for something. Even if that something is a reward of coins won through being victorious on a pre-determined battlefield.

He was, of course, referring to the Arena, the first match of which he had just witnessed, albeit not in the Arena itself, but through a large Viewer Screen mounted on a pole outside. He still didn't understand all the rules and complications of it, but the basic idea was clear; two contenders faced off in a battle of fighting skill to earn a reward, probably in the form of money. Which is all humans really care about, that and mating.

He gazed around the bustling square, watching and listening to the various things going on, taking it all in. He stood like a massive, gray, immovable pillar in the middle of a tumbling and tossing sea of fleshy waves. As people walked by, they would stare at him, and then quickly glance away as soon as he looked at them. Most would avoid walking close to him, and would walk faster if they were forced to get within his general vicinity. A few cocky teenagers were daring enough to walk up to him and say something insulting, but would dash off at the first sign that he wasn't a statue.

Ah well, at least they acknowledge my formidably presence. Tis' better to be feared and hated, then to be mocked and hated. Still, he didn't like being treated like a dumb animal, which is what he was sure many of the humans here considered him to be. The wolves were better, however, as they could probably relate to his situation. He had only seen a few in the city so far, but each time they had looked him directly in the eye, with a silent acknowledgment of their shared estrangement from the rest of "society". They were noble beings, the lycanthropes, several had been among his tribe's greatest allies, and his personal friends. It was a pity so few of the pure breeds were left.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of ringing metal, and shouting. People were rushing toward the Arena, to see what was going on. Ah, humans. So quick to engage in combat over the slightest of misunderstandings or grievances. Perhaps one of them will die, and the others shall learn their lesson.

He stood where he was, watching the flock of people hurrying to watch the brawl. The noises, however, did not stop. Instead they intensified, and grew louder, and more and more people were running to the Arena. Perhaps this is more than a domestic squabble... Tronfros shook himself, loosening his limbs, then strode forward through the crowd of halflings. Most of them were looking in the opposite direction, and didn't see him coming, and thus had to be gently "nudged" out of the way. He tried to do as little pushing as possible though, no need to start any confrontations.

He reached the entrance to the Arena Waiting Room, and stooped down to look inside. It was hard to tell exactly what was going on with all these people around, but he could see several warriors, one a wolven, beginning to spar off with several masked assassins. This was obviously more important than he had thought. He knew nothing about these people though, and saw no point in entangling himself in a mess he didn't want to be in, so for the time being he decided to stand at the back of the room(which had very high ceilings, fortunately), behind the crowd, and watch. It would be good to gauge these warriors abilities, perhaps they could be beneficial allies. Or perhaps, dangerous enemies.

TAG: Everyone in the Arena Waiting Room.

Is it too late to join?

MasterSqueak:
Is it too late to join?

PM me the sheet.

The Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Olm

Jeistan charged toward the assassin, slicing through his rib cage, only to find that it too would turn to smoke. What interested Olm was the blade itself. Blood... Did that illusion just... bleed? Another assailant attacked Olm from behind, before he could come to a conclusion. Lucien unleashed hell upon another rearing Jeistan, only for the man to turn to another black cloud.

TAG: Tirin, Fatscalyman, Yorgmiester

*********************
Galath - Outside the Arena

IC: Capricorn

Nearly tripping over a tipsy human man stumbling toward the Arena, Capricorn stops and looks at the little man. "Silly drunk man, you really must look where you are going! I could have stepped on you, and that wouldn't have been very good, would it have?" Capricorn laughs, holding his hand to his stomach. He grabs the man and slings him over his shoulder, as he walked toward the commotion. "I hope he doesn't puke on my beautiful golden coat..." In a single bound, he jumps from the Speared-Grape Inn, to where the crowd thins. Most of the people move aside "Obviously to show they respect me.", others he must slide out of his way. Moving through the crowd, his eyes lock onto a grey brethren.

He puts his hand onto the minotaur's shoulders, and says, "Hello brother! What interests you in-". Capricorn's gaze lands to the Waiting Room and the fighting within it. "Here, hold this." he mumbles, handing Tronfros the drunk man. Pulling out a greatclub, Capricorn leaps into the Arena Room with a battlecry.

TAG: Yorgmiester, Zelmac (you're the "drunk man".)

Yorgmiester:



Arena Waiting Room

IC: Jeistan D'Terehei

Adapt and overcome, Jeistan. Not doing so will result in death. He thought, hardly affected by the 'failure' of his attack. Not doing so is what killed off the remaining of your clan in that horrid blizzard so many years ago.

It all came back to him in an all-too-familiar flashback. The snow, the ice, the avalanche in the mountain range. Snow falling from the sky, being blown harshly by the furied winds. Entire mountains of ice and snow, crashing down, taking Purebreads of his own clan, the Terehei, and of the neighboring clans, Nhishke and Garsharha, to their grave. Many died in that horrible blizzard, and if any remained, Jeistan never saw them again. The alpha wandered for days, looking for someone, anyone, from Terehei. All he found was a group of Nhiske refugees, and after months of searching, left the mountains of Roldaki, never able to join another clan, out of pride and sadness.
And at that moment, he made a vow to himself. After the tournament, he would return to Roldaki, using his prize money to search for Terehei survivors, or start a new clan, all beginning with him.

And then he came back to the real world. Gripping his sabre tight, he made a speedy roll to the side of his adversary, stopping, immediately going upward in a fury of slashes, an acrobatic move Jeistan usually pulled off easily.

TAG: Everyone in the room.

The Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Terath D'Arigan

To say that Terath was surprised to be siezed and carried off by a golden minotaur would be an obvious statement, for that is surely a common reaction for anyone in that situation. He was silent and unresisting for quite a while, at first because he was too shocked to speak, then because he was relieved at not having spilled his beer, and finally in horrified relief at the fact that none of his explosives had ruptured. That could have been very, very bad.

At least he had a good view of the fight in the Waiting Room now. He took a sip of his beer and peered out from around grey-furred arms--Grey? Oh, it's a different minotaur--the hell? When did that happen?

Must be the beer, making him not pay attention. He took another sip. Good beer, this.

He reached up and tapped the minotaur on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that it (He? She? How do you tell a minotaur's gender, anyway?) was already looking at him.

"Could ya put me down, if it's not too much trouble?"

He took another sip from the tankard before hearing the answer.

TAG: The Waiting Room Crowd, specifically Yorg

Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Tronfros Gronintur

He smelled the other minotaur before he saw it, and immediately tensed. Unlike many people who's immediate reaction to something unusual was to gawk at it and express loudly their opinion on how unusual it was, his reaction was to prepare for any possible danger. Unusual happenings, creatures, or people were more often then not dangerous, and even though he was a minotaur himself, the aspect of yet another one in a crowded human city like this was a little startling.

A large, strong hand was laid on his left shoulder, followed by a loud, booming voice. "Hello brother! What interests you in-" the voice was cut short as Tronfros turned to look down at the newcomer, who was all of a sudden staring at the battle. He was an average sized minotaur, standing about 7 or 8 feet tall(Which meant he was a good head and a half shorter than Tronfros), built very lean and muscular. His horns grew out of the back of his head, rather than the side, giving him a goat-like appearance. His most notable feature, however, was his beautiful golden fur, which was a rarity, even for the sun-bleached brethren of Cault.

"Here, hold this" the golden minotaur mumbled quickly, and then deposited a funny looking little drunk man into Tronfros' arms. He then whipped out a large club and charged into the fray, letting out a fierce battle cry.

The big gray statue stood there for a moment, a bit bewildered. he then looked down at the little creature in his arms, who was happily sipping on a mug of beer. He stared at the funny man for about half a minute before the tipsy fellow stopped drinking his beer and became aware of his surroundings. He reached up his skinny arm as far as it would go and tapped Tronfros on the shoulder.

"Could ya put me down, if it's not too much trouble?" He then took another sip of beer.

Tronfros' blinked for a moment, for some reason the fact that it had talked surprised him. Then he regained his tongue, and spoke, in a deep, gravelly voice that sounded like it came from underneath the ground. "Those whose legs cannot lift them should not try standing, and it is no trouble for me to hold you. But, do as you wish." With that he lowered the little man to the ground.

TAG: Everyone in the Waiting Room, Zemalac Specifically.

Outside the arena.

IC:Freya Kalick

She walked towards the arena. Passing drunks and people yelling cheerfully about the fights to come. Walking around she knew that she stood out from the crowd. Her giant sword catching the attention of many, attention she preferred not to have. She walked up to a man. Asking him a question as to where the arena waiting room was. Her native tongue, Avestondis, giving her a slight accent. The man shook his head and waved his wand, gesturing her to go away.

She looked around. This place was new to her. Everything was drastically different then how they were in her tribe. There the people respected her, here they treated her like a common wench.

********************************************************

Arena-Waiting Room.

IC:Freya Kalick

Eventually Freya stumbled into the arena waiting room, albeit by a complete accident. Her eyes widened as she saw the different creatures inside. Feeling more out of place than normal she slowly moved her way to the back corner of the room. A few of the creatures and people were fighting. She thought it better that she just stay out of it. She wriggled her way to a far corner of the room. Trying to not get in the way and trying to keep to herself.

It would be best if I just stayed away from them. I wouldn't want to get sucked into their fight.

TAG:Everyone in the waiting room.

ae86gamer:

Zemalac:

ae86gamer:

Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Olm

Oh god... Capricorn is here. All strategy out the window. Wonderful. Olm quickly responded to the man behind him with a feint attack. A fake left whack, then using its momentum for a solid hit with the right. As the fake almost made contact, a small puff of black smoke appeared, though the man did not disappear. With the solid hit, the illusion vanished.

Olm then turned to Capricorn's combatant, his elven eyes zeroing in on his side. A cut...? "Capricorn, he's behind you!" The oaf then spun around with a blow that should have knocked his head off. Yet... only more smoke... But how?

TAG: Fatscalyman, Tirin, ae86gamer, Yorgmiester, Zelmac

*******************
Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Eisicin's Group

"You expect me to risk my life for something that could be avoided so easily?" Seaster spat angrily. "Have someone else go. At least if you die, the group will have the leader who wasn't dumb enough to walk right into a trap!"

Forst, on the other hand, was gleefully going in. "If tha blaggard be shakin' in his britches, means more swag fer us! We'll take the ol' salt, instead. Alright me hearties, weigh anchor!!!" he chanted, unsheathing his cutlass and charging, but more like a skip, into the cave.

TAG: Fatscalyman

Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Eisicin Lizaeus

EIsicin did not show his frustration, simply took a deep breath and shut his eyes for a moment.
"You agreed to join our group on my terms and conditions, one of them being that you respect me as leader," he said.
"Do you not care for the safety of the group to even scout ahead to keep them out of danger?" He asked, his tone growing a little less patient. Without waiting for a response, he fired the next statement.
"Some leader you would make. A selfish coward, putting your own safety before others."
Without warning, he whipped around, bringing his fist rapidly at the head of Seaster.

TAG: Tiki

Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Seaster

Twisting my words... And I have no doubt I'll be his personal shield. He's forced me to walk to my doom. Seaster walks after Eisicin, with Yesuil close behind.

The cave extended for a short distance, containing not much for interest. A few dead campfires, abandoned tents, and some random splintered slabs of wood. A spiral staircase marked the end of the cave, with a single lantern lit the path upward.

TAG: Fatscalyman

TikiShades:
Outskirts of Kalgorith

IC: Seaster

Twisting my words... And I have no doubt I'll be his personal shield. He's forced me to walk to my doom. Seaster walks after Eisicin, with Yesuil close behind.

The cave extended for a short distance, containing not much for interest. A few dead campfires, abandoned tents, and some random splintered slabs of wood. A spiral staircase marked the end of the cave, with a single lantern lit the path upward.

TAG: Fatscalyman

OOC:Completely ignore the fact I punched him in the face? /OOC

The Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Terath D'Arigan

Terath watched the fight with great, if slightly inebriated, interest. It seemed to be between a few excellent fighters of extremely varied appearance and a group of uniform black-swathed figures wielding knives. He debated joining in for a moment, then dismissed the idea. He wasn't so drunk that he'd forgotten how drunk he was, and he knew there was no way he would be able to aim straight. Best let events play out, then. After all, it's not as if the battle could get to him; there were half a dozen hundred pounds of golden minotaur in between him and the worst of the combat.

A shadowy figure appeared behind the minotaur, and just as promptly exploded into a cloud of smoke as a spiked club flew through it. Terath lost some of his confidence.

He lost even more when another black figure slipped in front of him and raised a knife in one weirdly shaped hand, lunging towards the gap in his open coat. He drained his beer in one quick motion and punched the figure in the head with the tankard.

Despite his decision to not get involved in the combat, the combat had gotten involved with him. He sighed, and hit the assassin again as it tried to stand up. Sometimes the world really seemed like it was operating just to spite him.

TAG: Tiki, Waiting Room Crowd

The Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Olm

As an assassin came toward him with a knife, Olm ducked quickly, as the figured was blasted in the face with a tankard, disappearing with a puff of smoke. For an unexpected reason, a man had come stumbling into the room, and given him quite the large bruise on the head as he stood back up.

As Olm looked up to identify the man who so rudely attacked him, the face on one of the assassins was a quite curious one. The masked figure had come stumbling out of the corner of the room to attack another new face, this one female. He's... holding his... face... nose... nose bleed? Ow, my head...

TAG: Zelamac, ae86gamer, Fatscalyman, Tirin

[spoiler="To FSM"]Sorry, misread your post. Didn't know what you meant by bringing your fist to his head. I'll edit it later.[/i]

*post edit-deleted*

TikiShades:
The Arena - Waiting Room

IC: Olm

As an assassin came toward him with a knife, Olm ducked quickly, as the figured was blasted in the face with a tankard, disappearing with a puff of smoke. For an unexpected reason, a man had come stumbling into the room, and given him quite the large bruise on the head as he stood back up.

As Olm looked up to identify the man who so rudely attacked him, the face on one of the assassins was a quite curious one. The masked figure had come stumbling out of the corner of the room to attack another new face, this one female. He's... holding his... face... nose... nose bleed? Ow, my head...

TAG: Zelamac, ae86gamer, Fatscalyman, Tirin

[spoiler="To FSM"]Sorry, misread your post. Didn't know what you meant by bringing your fist to his head. I'll edit it later.[/i]

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