RuneScape Forum Archive | [RP] Into The Fire

D F Angel

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"Kill it," Etheldredda told Annie. "You're the only one who can."

With the order given Etheldredda stumbled backwards, digging the bottom of the spear into the ground and propping herself upon it. She took in her surroundings- there was the Great Mother, Etheldredda's own grandmother, the one who had spawned all of the hags and the sole architect of centuries of misery. She traced where the malevolent crone had come from, her bone-forged throne. And there fighting in front of it was Joric Ironfist.

That Hell itself had descended upon them seemed not to faze the seasoned veteran, who disarmed a hagspawn and smashed a shield up into her jaw. The hagspawn fell to the ground, a dislodged front tooth careening through the air, and then Etheldredda was upon her; crashing the butt of her spear onto the fallen hagspawn's chest to pin her to the ground. "The ritual!" She called out to the dwarf, referring to the mating ritual that risked taking place mere yards away from where they were standing. The message was clear- Etheldredda did not have the energy left to fight the Great Mother, but she believed the dwarven punmaster still had the resolve to finish the job.

(( Into The Fire has been restored! In order to make sure we're not delayed any further, I'm just publishing these posts as I write them rather than waiting to have written everything. I'm going to be writing next the March of Darkness post, followed by Siera/Thorek, followed by Cirion.

For those unaware, I've decided to streamline things going forward. As such, the 'ogre wars' storyline is being relegated. It is now an event that took place some time in the past (somewhere between a week and a few months, depending on how long you think it should take your character to get from the ogre hills to the main plotline.) Feel free to reintroduce your ogre wars characters wherever in the storyline you see fit.

Thank you for your patience x)) Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

30-Jan-2018 01:01:55

Jul

2011

Annie1227

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Annie was happy that she was able to free all the slaves from the pens with some injuries when the fighting. She heard what Etheldredda said to her so she nodded and ran to defeat this Hagfather. She felt so tired from the fight but she was going to kept fighting. She didn't feel scared just brave. She dodged the hagfather attack by jumping to the right. She swung her sword as fast as an elf and stabbed him in the heart as she did that her god powers came out for the first time. She screamed with shock. -Dances-

30-Jan-2018 03:05:48 - Last edited on 07-Feb-2018 17:18:04 by Annie1227

NotFishing

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Name: Gareth Arenar
Age: 28
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Occupation: A former guard captain descended from minor nobility.

Appearance: Gareth stands at a towering six foot six, with black hair and dark green eyes. He has a light skin tone with a slight tan to it, and some stubble in the way of facial hair. His usually serious expression often takes the form of a cold measuring glare. Due to his years of training and experience, it should be unsurprising that Gareth is in excellent physical shape, though he looks a few years older than he actually is.

Attire: Gareth's armor consists of a full suit of steel chainmail, over which he wears a steel cuirass, steel spaulders, steel gauntlets, and steel greaves. The chainmail itself is an ordinary dull grey, but the heavy components of his armor have been painted black. A black cloak and black steel half-helm complete the ensemble.

Weapons: Gareth's primary weapon is his family's ancestral blade - a two handed longsword named Fury , a relic from a time when the Arenars were warriors instead of businessmen. The blade is made out of high quality steel, painted black coincidentally like the rest of Gareth's armor. There is a glowing ruby set in the center of a white crossguard, the weapon's hilt is wrapped in a layer of high quality black leather, and the pommel is a white stone carved into the shape of a small fist.

But the most noteworthy feature of this weapon is that it is enchanted to be set on fire. The wielder can activate this enchantment at will by saying one word - "Ignus." The enchantment may only be activated by someone with Arenar blood in their veins, and the fire cannot harm the one who spoke the enchantment.

In addition to the sword, on his back also carries a round oaken shield, wrapped in a layer of black boiled leather and unadorned with any sort of heraldry or sigil. Sheathed at his right hip is a mundane steel arming sword. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

30-Jan-2018 16:10:11 - Last edited on 30-Jan-2018 17:38:12 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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His arsenal does not stop there - there is a third blade on his belt, a simple dirk, and a fourth blade - a stiletto - in his boot. And although he does not carry a bow with him, it should be noted that he more than capable of using one.

Gareth has no magical talent, but what he does have is the Arenar signet ring - a silver ring with the Arenar family sigil, a burning fist over a black background. This seemingly mundane ring carries an enchantment of its own - the ability to detect when a person in his presence is lying, in which case the ring will begin to vibrate. This enchantment does not always work - for example, those whose deception skills are bolstered by some sort of magical talent, or otherwise incredibly good liars might be able to fool it.

Personality: Gareth has a very serious, stoic demeanor. In conversation, he is quite often blunt and to the point - almost offensively so. He prefers to speak his mind, and looks down on those who do not. He is firmly committed to the law, and carries an almost zealous dedication to justice.

His attitude towards the gods is a complicated one - though he respects the law and order of Tyrus, the gods hold no presence in the realm, so it is the law of mortals that must come first, for they are the ones who carry it out. But at the same time, he is in no hurry to flock to Arran. He is wary towards religion in general.

Short History: The Arenars are an interesting family. The House was first founded in the aftermath of Arran's rebellion, when Edwin Arenar was raised to nobility for his heroic deeds. His lands were meager - a small fishing village and the surrounding farmland - but they were close to the capital of one of the Kingdoms. The newly titled Baron Edwin spent little time in his village, however - he had also been appointed Master-at-Arms in the castle of the local King. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

30-Jan-2018 16:10:18 - Last edited on 30-Jan-2018 16:45:06 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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For the next few generations, the Arenars made a name for themselves in service to their liege as skilled fighters and competent commanders. As a reward, their lands were expanded and their title was elevated to Viscount, in addition to the riches they acquired through plunder and ransom. They one day discovered a peculiar black blade on a fallen enemy commander, and took it for their family sword, though it would be generations before it actually gained its enchantment.

One day, Sir Osmund Arenar, who was better with numbers than swords, had decided to capitalize on the family's fortune. Their hard-won wealth was invested into businesses and industry within the capital, they purchased ships to serve as the beginnings of a trading fleet, and their village's dock was expanded. It was he who had the blade enchanted.

His successor would continue his work, and soon the Arenars were less known for their business endeavors and more known for their wealth. Some of them were quite ruthless in this pursuit of wealth too. In fact, Gareth's great uncle had once been caught smuggling, though he managed to evade capture and flee the city - it is said that he eventually settled in the city of Kal'dara, but that was long before Gareth's birth.

It was Gareth himself who would try to return the House to its roots. The eldest of three siblings, he preferred the sword over the quill, and when he studied he preferred history and military tactics over economics and accounting. This would eventually strain his relationship with his father, who above all else wanted an heir that would be able to manage the family estate and their extensive trading fleet. Every Arenar since Osmund had left the House wealthier than when he inherited it, and he was determined that Gareth would not be the exception - or worse, the beginning the of a decline. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

30-Jan-2018 16:10:24 - Last edited on 30-Jan-2018 17:06:50 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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Then, one day when Gareth was twenty, his father fell inexplicably ill. He lingered in a coma for a number of weeks, until finally he passed away. The only thing more shocking than the death itself, was when the will was read at the funeral.

Gareth had been disowned.

At the time, the news had been baffling. Gareth knew his father had never seen him as the ideal heir, but he never imagined it would come to that . He was still permitted to carry the family name, but was ineligible for any sort of inheritance. The title would pass into the hands of his eighteen year-old brother.

Cast out of his home with few options, Gareth joined the city guard in the capital. Although he had no connections to call upon, his high birth had afforded him an education and training far beyond that of any other recruit, and as a result he had little trouble gaining the notice of his superiors and advancing through the ranks.

He also learned some lessons along the way, and more than one close encounter with a thug in an alleyway or a drunk in a tavern brawl had taught him that the notion of 'honourable' combat was nothing more than folly.

After five years, he eventually reached the rank of captain. But less than a month after his promotion, one of his friends in the guard came to him and explained that false evidence had surfaced, claiming that Gareth had been taking bribes, and the majority of the officers believed it. There were plans for his arrest in only a few short days.

And so, when his former comrades finally did show up to arrest him, they had found Gareth missing. However, he had not yet left the city...

When his father died, Gareth had his suspicions, but they had always been just that - suspicions. No evidence. He couldn't prove it, and he had never even wanted to believe it to begin with. But now? Just as he found himself in a position where he might attain genuine power and influence, there was a move to get rid of him. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

30-Jan-2018 16:48:24 - Last edited on 30-Jan-2018 17:22:13 by NotFishing

NotFishing

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And the fact that it had been his brother who provided a portion of the evidence had been the final nail in the coffin, considering that they had not spoken in years. And his brother was coincidentally in the city at the time, staying at the Arenar family mansion.

It was a simple enough matter to break in. He knew the layout, and how many guards were stationed there. Their patrol routes had been sloppy. They were easy enough to subdue. His sister was absence, having been married off years ago, so there was no need to be concerned about her. The servants were all asleep.

And so his brother awoke tied to a chair, with Gareth standing before him - signet ring on finger and family sword in hand, both of which had been in the house.

He had been unable to get his brother to confess. His brother had heatedly denied any role in their father's death, Gareth's disownment, or his attempt to frame him. It was only on their father's death that the ring did not vibrate. On the other two subjects, it did, which was confession enough. He had not been given any concrete answers, but it was easy enough to figure out what happened - his brother had forged the will in order to secure the inheritance. He had bribed or blackmailed the other officers into trying to arrest Gareth, paranoid that Gareth would eventually act against him.

When the guards woke, they found their lord unconscious in a chair, half his face scorched by fire, the family sword and signet ring stolen. Gareth himself was long gone, having fled the city with the heirlooms that were his by right. Since then, he has roamed from kingdom to kingdom, rarely staying in one place, and resorting to common mercenary work - but never anything that broke the law.

Recently, he has heard rumors of a strange ritual in the rest, and had gone to investigate....

Other: His mount is a black horse named Diligence. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

30-Jan-2018 17:22:20 - Last edited on 30-Jan-2018 17:35:24 by NotFishing

D F Angel

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Scorched Earth

On the ground was streaks of fire, and above their head a smokey darkness. Blood and flesh, bile and guts; these were the scents that permeated the air. Already the flies were settling in, as though the sound of battle had called them to this spot. Carrion crows crept on the outskirts of the slaughter.

A valley of corpses lay about the mechanoid demon known as Spirry, whose thrashing cyclone had torn to shreds those that had attempted to surround it. The pyromistress remained unscathed and seemingly unamused, having led her fire frenzy from the rear. In front of Brodus lay a dead centaur chieftain, her forelegs torn from her body as he had mystically sliced her down the front. Besides him, the ghostly spirit of that same chieftain stood, now a servant of the dark power that had slain her.

Strolling through the field of the fallen and looking quite pleased with himself was Soahc the Deceiver. The dark lord of treachery had led a valiant charge of his cultists deep into the centaur herd. It turned out that religious fanatics were not necessarily seasoned warriors and now most of them lay dead, including the Grand Priest of Soahc. The man's orange mask was now held in the demigod's grasp.

"Raspur dearest, I've a gift for you!" He called out, but then a frown crossed his face. The mercenary captain was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the necromancer Ubaid, who had helpfully left behind his skeletal cohort so as not to raise suspicion. Soahc sighed. "You just can't get the help these days," he muttered to himself.

Pointing to a loutish, ginger-bearded barbarian, the demigod inquired, "Do you have a name?"
"Uh- yes, I-"
"Excellent, you're hired!"

Soahc tossed the orange mask at him, crowning him the new leader of the remaining mercenaries and cultists. Strolling on, he was intercepted by Cold Ethyl and her three sisters, his hag lieutenants. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

06-Feb-2018 18:41:49

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

"We lost many spawnlings to this folly," Ethyl hissed out in her characteristic tone of malevolence.
"All for a good cause," Soahc responded with a wink. This didn't seem to please the hag one bit, but she held her tongue for the moment.

Once the forces of evil had regrouped, Soahc addressed his surviving followers. "Well, that was a fun distraction. But now we're near our goal. And by our- I of course mean my . If we have any creative types in the audience then please leave behind a trap or two; I'd hate to have my masterpiece ruined by a few pesky adventurers. This, my friends, will be remembered for centuries. Plaster your wounds and recharge your magic swords, for tomorrow... Everything changes."

((Accepted, NotFishing)) Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

06-Feb-2018 18:42:02

NotFishing

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Joric Ironfist

Joric knew his purpose, for it had been his objective before he was interrupted by the hagspawn – he had not needed to be told. The Great Mother had to die, and more glory to him if he was the one to do it – even though glory wasn’t the actual priority here. Despite the dwarf’s revelry in combat, he knew what was at stake.

The dwarf lowered his head, brought his shield up, and charged. Any hagspawn in his path would find their blows turned aside by his armor and enchanted shield, and those who insisted on standing their ground would find themselves quite literally bowled over by the weight of muscle and metal.

Suddenly, he broke through, and there were no hagspawn between him and his foe. They were all behind him, scrambling in pursuit or picking themselves off the ground. Once again, he raised his shield and charged, assuming his faithful enchantment would block any spells the creature could conjure.

If he managed to cross the distance, he would deliver a shield bash directly to her mid-section, with the intention of using his strength and lower centre of gravity to knock her to the forest floor. If he succeeded in that maneuver, he would then allow himself to fall on top of her (whilst shouting: “Sorry to interrupt this little bash !”) and use the momentum to embed his axe into her skull. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

07-Feb-2018 04:25:51 - Last edited on 07-Feb-2018 04:26:38 by NotFishing

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[RP] Into The Fire