Blank Slate (A casual Meta RP drop in drop out no need to sign up) Pages PREV 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 . . . 37 NEXT | |
A young drow slowly wakes up under a tree, dazed. As she regains her bearings, her training kicks in, and she examines the area surrounding her. Noticing the young man climbing out of the hedge, she approaches him warily. "Pardon me, but would you happen to know where this is? Last I knew, I was facing off against some Rakshasa when one of them blasted me with something." | |
The ground begins to rumble and crack. From the earth, several dozen snarling green creatures erupt from the ground.
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As Jath'rakal found himself drifting through space, or, as he would have himself believe, the transition between the realm of the living and the realm of the dead, he did not want to open his eyes. Not until the right time, at least. He wanted to be sure that he had passed into Bwonsamdi's realm until he did. Suddenly, the drifting turned into falling. And like most things that fall, Jath'rakal eventually hit the ground. Luckily for him, the ground was soft. It felt like sand, Jath concluded. After a brief momment of consideration, he decided that, if there was an appropiate time to open his eyes, it was now. He was right. It was sand. Lots of it. He got up and looked around. "Sand", he thought, "Sand everywhere!" But why end up in a desert? Bwonsamdi was a Loa of the Jungle Trolls, and if his realm was to look like anything, it certainly wouldn't look like an endless desert. Perhaps this was Jath's punishment. Perhaps he hadn't quite honoured the deal that was forced on him that stormy night, and he hadn't been judged worthy of entering Bwonsamdi's halls. Maybe all he was worthy of was a desert with a void to substitute for the sky. | |
Rugal soon saw the Growing Group and strolled past. | |
Seeing that the young man is preoccupied, she shakes her head and decides to explore this strange area. Could that rakshasa have sent me to Dal Quor? Nothing does seem too real here, after all. As she continues on, the forested area tapers off into a field, with her pondering the nature of the area. Impossible, the old tales say it was knocked out of alignment thousands of years ago, and it's certainly too sane for anything involving Xoriat. She keeps going on until she sees a man being followed by an enormous panther. Feeling a slight bit of unease, she approaches the man with caution. I'm not sure about how this man feels, but it's more important for me to get some kind of information here. "Excuse me, would you happen to know what this place is? It's certainly not anywhere I've heard of." A hand rests on the pommel of one of her rapiers, waiting for a response. | |
Great, the Riff Raff... | |
She nods her head, slightly disappointed. She follows the man about ten paces behind, trying to see where this path led. It certainly had to be better than the labyrinthine forest behind her. | |
Rugal kept walking, hoping to put enough distance between him and the group to teleport out of here. | |
"Well, can't just stand 'ere lookin' disappointed fer da rest ef eternity! Time I explored dis place a bit!" And with that thought, and the hope that there were other Trolls out there that sucked in life as much as Jath'rakal did, he set out to find the highest point he could find. The most promising place to start was a huge sand hill, bigger than any sandhills he'd ever seen in his brief exporation of the vast desert of Tanaris. It would seem that the desert wasn't as big as he first thought. In the distance he could see a field, and farther away what would seem to be a forest. Jath decided to head that way. Surely the other Trolls would prefer to be somewhere away from this depressing desert. | |
Slindis stops, nearly running into the man. "Look, I just need to find someone that actually knows what they are doing. Since it seems that you are the only one that isn't scratching their rear end like a half-witted half-orc, I think I found my man." She crosses her arms. "So, how about having me along? It's better to have an ally here, and it's not like you benefit with my absense, either." Her eyes scan around, seeing a trace of a desert in the distance as well as some of those green-skinned creatures. Either way, I'd better make a choice soon. Those creatures behind us look far too much like baatezu for my comfort, and it's better if I don't have to fight them | |
Travelling through the desert wasn't as easy as Jath hoped. With sand getting in his boots all the time, for once he wished he was like most of his people in their preference not to wear shoes of any kind. Still, making progress (or at least, hoping that progress is being made) is better than making no progress at all, so he marched on. As he reached the end of the desert and entering the field, Jath noticed shapes exiting the forest.Most un-trollish shapes. To investigate further, Jath put his long-distance scope on the rifle and and looked. The most prominent shapes where of a man with a moustache many would only dream of having, and an elf that had the shape of a Blood Elf, but skin colour most closely resembling that of a Night Elf. This discovery filled Jath with a good deal of questions, most notable of which being whether or not this place was for the dead, for those that are about to die, those unworthy, or the universe having a wierd sense of humour and teleporting random people here. He decided to cautiously approach them, see whether or not they are hostile, and if not, introduce himself to them. | |
This time, Rugal actually bothered to look at her, he had to admit, he didn't dislike was he saw. | |
Oliver looks around. "Okay... last night I was in a caravan. Now I'm in a hedge. Hmm... I sense shenanigans." | |
Rugal merely stares down at Oliver. | |
She cautiously moves towards the man's left side. "Name's Slindis d'Tarkanan. I'd not worry about our pursuer: if they want to attack us, they'll soon regret it." The drow smirks and places her left hand on the sheath of one of her rapiers. "And what of yourself? Say as much or as little as you wish, as long as you give a name." She looks at the man's artificial eye in curiosity. Is that Cannith workmanship? Considering that detail, it's certainly likely. If it is, this is going to be very interesting... Her smirk turns into a grin as she sees the young man that ran up to them. "Gotten into any more fights with shrubbery recently, kid?" A quick examination of the human gives her no reason to draw her blade. | |
Oliver looks at Slindis. "That's an unusual name." he comments. | |
"Rugal Bernstein, and this is Rodem." He said as he pointed to the Panther beside him. | |
She casually shrugs. "Well, I could tell you the story, but I don't really think you could keep quiet about it." Her eyes are drawn to the computer. "Interesting piece of technology there. Was it made by Cannith craftsmen?" | |
Oliver skids on his back, then rolls to his feet. "You're a bit of dick, aren't you?" he says sarcastically. | |
Rugal gives Oliver a Death Glare and Rodem growled at him. | |
She sighs, then looks at Rugal. "That was a bit excessive, but I see why you did that. Dead weight and all. It was best for him to not go with us: It's clear he doesn't know how to fight at all." | |
I like this one... | |
Oliver follows Rugal and Slindis. "I know how to fight." he says. | |
"Whatever helps you sleep at night..." Rugal snarks. | |
Slindis nods. This man may be a bit cutthroat, but all I need to do is get back to Silverhilt and the rest. After all, there's no way the Flame would have allowed them in on what was supposed to be a raid on a Lords of Dust hall. "So, if we come into a conflict, will it be fight or flight? I can allow for either." She wipes her brow, wishing in vain for some clouds to cover the sun. | |
"Well, it doesn't really. Because I always end up fighting at night. Either that, or I end up trying to work out how to time-travel without blowing up the fourth dimension." Oliver says. "Ah, Tuesdays..." | |
"Neither, we kill, end of..." Rugal said as he took off his jacket and shirt, revealing a back Muscle Vest, and carried it on his shoulder. | |
"Time travel? It's difficult, but it's possible if you find the right place. Only problem is getting to your destination, especially if it involves a large devil attack on a city." She shouts back to the human behind her. "Still, try to keep up. I know old men that move faster than you!" Slindis nods. "Good to hear, Rugal. Haven't seen a good brawler in a while. Let's hope for the kid's sake that he can put his money where his mouth is." | |
Richardson woke up, jumping up onto his feet. "Right, he's a slight stronger than I expected". Picking up his sabre, he walked towards the bridge. "No sense staying here unless I could fix the whole damn ship by myself." He looked at a set of severed wires, "I'd need a soldering Iron for th-" a soldering Iron then appeared spontaneously in his left hand. "Well thats convenient, but I'd need solder as we-" solder appears on the floor. "So if I think about it, it appears, huh". He looked at the floor, a bucket of Ben and Jerry's appeared beside the solder. "So I can conjure anything then......" He glanced at the severed wiring again, as he stared at it, the wires reattached themselves. .......excellent. He leaped out of the bridge and began to fly. "Right then". As he looked at the ship, he began to concentrate, the Valiant slowly began to repair itself. | |
"I don't use time travel, not after last time..." He said as he thought back to the mess that was 1600's Japan. | |
Oliver looks at Rugal. "And where is this portal between universes?" he asks. | |
Slindis raises an eyebrow. "Are you certain it will be so simple? You'll have to deal with multiple Planes to get me back, and a slip up could send me to a fun fate." | |
"Simple, I'll make one, Magic Based, draw a Circle, chat some words, Boom, did it before, I know what I'm going, it's how I got here." He said as he had a PTSD Flashback to his Pony days. | |
"Why can't you just do it here?" Oliver asks. | |
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An Australian wakes up in a nearby hedge. "Oh God... I'm going to kill those guys." he mutters angrily, clambering out of the hedge and brushing himself off.
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