RuneScape Forum Archive | [RP] Into The Fire

D F Angel

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The Road North

"Agreed." Karstone repeated the sentiment expressed by Alicia as he watched a skinless demon fly off into the distance whilst carrying an ogre and bleeding all over it. "Ah'm gettin' too ol' fer this," he established, hooking his twin hammers on his belt and wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Wha' the bloomin' 'ellfire d' yah think yah doin'?" Karstone yelled at Alania, who was looking more quizzical than upset. She was staring off in the distance too, following the ever receding dot that signified Spirry's presence with wonder.

"Innocent until proven guilty," Alania Clarke recited. "He'd not actually harmed anyone. Knights are supposed to protect the innocent."

Karstone grimaced at that- he wasn't sure how Sir Charles would respond to this assessment of knighthood, but he imagined that it wouldn't go over well.

"M-Mugwo take you to Decan now," Mugwo said, looking completely baffled at the entirety of the situation.

"Ogrin trickery," one of the more shrewd ogres suggested, squinting darkly towards the east. The others, emboldened by the suggestion that their natural enemy was the cause of this outbreak, burst out into a patriotic fever and began chanting: "Og! Og! Og!"

"A'ight, okay, let's ge' back to reality here," Karstone muttered. The demon had cast a dark shadow on his mind, but that was not the reason he was here. He was here for the ogres, for the civil war.

The demon was powerful, and nothing like anything we'd ever seen before. It seemed like it was from another world... Or a world that had been forgotten.

Karstone could feel himself breathing heavily and glanced sideways towards the knight, but decided against saying anything. Currently Mugwo was calling to them, summoning them all together, and the aged adventurer decided the best option was simply to go with the flow and hope normality returned with time. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

14-Oct-2015 23:49:46

D F Angel

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As the other ogres fanned out in search of their lost brethren and any Ogrin insurgents, Mugwo took the others north east, humming silently to himself as he bounced along the road, not tiring whatsoever as the hours slipped by on this journey. Eventually they arrived on a cliff face, and below them they could see a settlement of some sort, with raised tents and makeshift teepees and in the centre a marquee in resplendent purple, atop which flew a flag of the Tyhawk, the sea-blue bird that Tyrrus himself gifted to his most loyal subjects in the deep south. They can come across an Encampment of the Empire.

"Decan isn't a person, it's a title!" Announced Alania in realisation. Decans were small-infantry leaders, and it seemed this one had gained the respect of the ogres, and perhaps was acting in an ambassadorial role. But what was the Tyrannian Empire doing all the way up here? They'd have to cross disputed lands and rebelled colonies and the great plains of the centaurs to arrive here, a long and frivolous journey to take without some grand purpose.

They climbed down the side of the cliff and arrived at the camp. The cliff fenced off one side of the camp, the other three was bordered by trenches, with a small land bridge on the north side to take them over. Karstone wasn't too sure what good shallow trenches would do against ogres, but figured he'd have more important things to talk about than interior design with the imperial leader.

Decans lead the smallest infantry groups in the Empire- a Contubernium, composed of eight fighting soldiers. Unlike the rulers of the Free Kingdoms in western Engelain where Alania and Karstone both grew up, who would use commoners to fight with spade and shovel and axe and hoe, there was not a single soldier of the Tyrannian Empire that wasn't properly geared and drilled for war, in full iron with a sword, shield and spear to boot. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

14-Oct-2015 23:49:57

D F Angel

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Two or three were dotted around the camp now, though they didn't seem too surprised to see adventurers in these parts. The Contubernium also contained a chaplain- who acted as one half priest and one half medic, and a cook, though there was a conspicuous lack of cooking equipment in sight.

"Decan says humans allying with Great Og to squash puny Ogrin," Mugwo explained to them. "Decan says rein- reinfer-" the ogre's face scrunched up in concentration as he fought over the word he most definitely could not pronounce. "Says more men come soon. Are you them?"

"N-"
"Aye, tha' we are," Karstone interjected over Alania. Ogres weren't particularly bright creatures, and Mugwo seemed particularly susceptible to the stupid gene. He didn't want to be causing any sudden deaths due to a slight misunderstanding, so it was best simply to agree to whatever it was the ogre said.

A woman with mud-brown hair emerged from the captain's tent, armoured like her fellow men, except for a white cape to denote her higher ranking. It would seem that the Tyrannian Church had chosen a woman for their decan- a surprising twist, as Karstone hadn't heard much good about the treatment of women in those parts. She was of a darker skin than the adventurers, hinting at her origins in the far south of Engelain. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, but masked her face when Mugwo turned to her.

"These must be the reinforcements!" The decan said brightly. "More will come," she reassured the ogre, who nodded sagelike before turning to stroll to the other side of camp, most likely to raid the food stores.

"Don't think you'll have it easy just because you've gotten this far," the decan told the group once Mugwo was out of ear shot. "He's the dumbest ogre of the lot, I think they put him on the front lines in the hopes he'd be killed off. What brings a group as disorganised and dishevelled as yourselves this far north?" Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

14-Oct-2015 23:50:02

Loaned Shark

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Ubaid's Tomb

The Witch's neck gristled as she regarded Raspur's sputum, but in light of his puppet's dilapidated state Ubaid chose to make nothing of it.

"Exactly..." she mused, drawing herself up as tall and proud as her hunchback would permit. A pair of bland, nameless zombies hustled forth to catch the shoulder poles as she abruptly dropped them and stepped forward. Ubaid's tomb wobbled precariously for a few seconds, but the ghost, seemingly engrossed in this bizarre request, paid it no mind.

"You ask for precision, Captain. Such that I wonder if you know - precisely - what you ask." She held up a hand to forestall Raspur opening fire. "Yes, what you ask is possible, given the correct conflux of events. Whether it is within my power, I am afraid, depends entirely upon this conflux."

The necromancer mulled it over, let the idea ferment as she paced, until she held up her index finger. "Firstly, you desire a specific soul. This is difficult; without a focal point, an artefact of relevance to the one you wish to raise, reaching across the Veil in search of any single spirit is next to impossible. The greater the relevance, the more effective it will serve as a beacon." He almost said 'lure'.

"Of course, the corpse itself would be most preferable." A thumb raised as well, keeping track. "The soul is eternal, and though mutable it will not fade through the ravages of time. The body, though transient, is what shapes our souls, defines our self-image, and rare is it that any item holds a greater sway over the spirit. Of greater interest to you, however - 'exactly', you ask." Again, the macabre marionette paused, musing over the situation. "If I might be so bold, why do desire this person returned, precisely as they were? Oh, they could live and breath, walk in the sunlight and raise families. All this is plausible, at a cost." Ubaid left aside just how high a cost...

"And then, they would grow old, and wither, and die. Is that truly what you seek?" All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

15-Oct-2015 01:05:04

D F Angel

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Ubaid's Tomb

"They'll live longer than I will, and b*gger your trickery," Raspur responded. Even when asking a personal request, the aged fighter could not bring himself above his foul-mouthed persona. He might just be a common man without much scope for grand plans like the rest of them, but he knew enough not to trust any extra deals that Ubaid might be running.

"Whole and well and bloody well unchanged." He did not have the body, and would never dream of getting the body. He would not disturb that final resting place. Not that he was above grave-robbing, Raspur had a price for almost everything. Besides, most like the corpse would have rotten away into dust and mealworms at this point.

"I can get you a body, the body of the most despicable f***ing b****** on this s***stained planet. He's alive, the c***, he's the brother. Will he do? I'll gladly stick my flintlock up his bunghole and make him spit lead. I know you corpse types have a fetish for human sacrifice, though he's the lowest of all men." Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

15-Oct-2015 01:19:03 - Last edited on 15-Oct-2015 01:19:53 by D F Angel

NarBloodwolf

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Rovaan stood relived in his mind when Etheldredda didn't turn home away. This was a burden off Rovaan's mind somewhat. He still had no idea how the others would treat him from here on out but Etheldredda's acceptance, even small was a start.

''I thank you for your understanding.'' said Rovaan with a slight bow.

It wasn't long after that before Etheldredda called for the company to move out. For that Rovaan was also grateful for they had wasted enough time as it was standing there on the bridge. But as the group trekked on-wards, the silence of the group during the long walk to Hamstead bothered the half-demon mercenary slightly. Though at the same time he was glad for it, as no one had voiced any opinion on his heritage which for the time being Rovaan was glad. True he had let the truth out, but he was in no mood to talk on it further at that time.

Upon arriving in Hamstead, a grin spread across Rovaan's face ever so slightly. That grin only darkened when the cowardly guildmaster mentioned the battle for Copperdale. It really hadn't been much of a fight on Rovaan's end to be honest but it was still a rush. When the guilfdmaster mentioned the Lord of Hamstead and the possibility of him being wanted really mad Rovaan grin.

''The good Lord of Hamstead and myself are even as far as I am concerned. He refused to pay me after a job I did for him. So I guess for not giving me my coin, killing a few of his subjects was payment enough. But on the flip side, The ones I let live from the battle would not recognize me now. All they probably remember is a demon telling them to run for their lives.'' Chuckled Rovaan.

But regardless of his jest, Rovaan knew the Guildmaster was correct. Better to lay low while in the town that risk capture and death, even if it might have been a small chance. But it seemed like the Guildmaster, cowardly though he was, was well prepared. It wasn't long before an Inn had been cleared out and made ready for the band of travelers.

15-Oct-2015 02:41:59 - Last edited on 15-Oct-2015 17:46:25 by NarBloodwolf

NarBloodwolf

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But before any could really get settled in for the short time they would be there, Etheldredda was barking orders. Supplies had to be obtained, a boat procured, and information it seemed. But to both his relief and slight annoyance, he was left behind with Joric, the dwarf.

Rovaan hadn't had any dealing with dwarves in his life. Truth be told Joric was the first dwarf he had worked with ever. Though Joric's sense of humor was a bit crude with his puns and all, Rovaan found it it be a refreshing feel in the midst of battle to have some crude humor. But despite all this, Rovaan wasn't the one for small talk, so he just grabbed a chair and sat in it near the Inn's fireplace.

15-Oct-2015 02:57:55

Azigarath

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The Road North

“Oh wait, what the hell?” Spirry asked, only now realizing that he had carried the young Ogre who attacked him, bleeding all over the Ogre, who seemed to be afraid of heights, and wriggled in the air, trying to attack Spirry with his weapon, but failing completely.

“I'ma kill you!” The Ogre cried, unable to stop himself looking down, for Spirry flew perhaps fifty feet above the treeline.

“Uh, how did I not notice you with me? Eh, whatever, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll just drop you over there, **** off, there, **** off.” He continued, dropping the young Ogre randomly all of a sudden.

“Aauuggghhh!” The young Ogre yelled, scream fading away as he plummeted through the branches, landing somewhere. If he didn't die from the fall, well, he'd have a long way to go home back to Og.

Now that that Ogre was out of the way, Spirry could continue his evil flight. He sensed other demons out there, at least one powerful one, and a half demon, but he'd never know who or where they were. Perhaps they were like him, and had a quest to indulge in sadomasochistic pleasures. He had already mistaken one person for a demon * Alicia – and didn't want to repeat that mistake; it looked so bad when a demon mistook a human for demon.

Nevertheless, he could feel Alania's mind, she offered friendship, and he accepted. He could feel her thoughts. Not that he knew them, but he could sense the woman's thinking, and would easily find her if he tried. He would reappear to her, sometime, perhaps when she was in trouble, if possible to swoop down and join her in the future.

15-Oct-2015 03:56:12 - Last edited on 15-Oct-2015 19:15:58 by Azigarath

Sir Duncan88

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The Farmlands (Road to Hamstead)

“Well, simply chasing perilous adventure isn’t exactly a pastime of mine,” Conleth replied to the masked warrior “But if there’s a threat that needs to be dealt with, I’m more than willing to join you.” This was followed shortly by an anomalous pun from one of the party members, and by some incident of comic timing, the kite flew down and landed on his shoulder simultaneously. “Er…thanks.” He said dryly.

From overhearing various conversations about half non-humans and seeing someone write in the air of all things, he concluded that this was not a normal group of people. Still, they hadn’t killed him on the spot, so he guessed they could probably be trusted.

Walking up at the front like he’d been told, he released the bird into the air where it flew 10 metres or so above him, scouring the landscape (but remaining within everyone else’s sight, to avoid suspicion).

Eventually, they finished crossing the farmlands as it began to get dark, reaching what looked like a busy town. He was slightly unnerved by the comments about recent events from one of the party members, but he announced that he was leaving anyway and soon disappeared. He did*’t seem like a reliable source anyway.

He was asked to go and help get the boat. He was starting to realise that the party leader wasn’t letting him out of her sight; he supposed they had the right to be suspicious. He responded with a quiet nod and followed.

15-Oct-2015 13:04:11

Loaned Shark

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Ubaid's Tomb

"You are not wrong..." the zombie confessed, thinking back to the gory rituals in Oakfoot's cathedral. "I admit, I do not see the point of this endeavour, or why you would resist resurrecting this person as better than mortal. Still," the Witch shrugged, "A servant need not understand, only do as you command."

Knowing full well that nobody around here believed that line, the undead pondered his options, keeping Raspur's firearm in her field of view as she paced idly away from Ubaid's sarcophagus. Ubaid had yet to meet Ryokin, and so was unaware of his particular talents, but in any event Raspur had been here from close to the beginning; it did not take a genius to figure out who he was. Still, he had to admit to empathising with the mercenary... "I am not suicidal, Sellsword's Sovereign," she declared. "You intrigue me, and I am tempted to accede just to see what I will see," and because, with a little tweaking, Ubaid could stand to gain more than the mercenary's dubious friendship, "But I value more my own persistence. When the Deceiver learns that he has no further hold on you, I had best be far beyond his reach.

"I will offer you a..." he sifted through what he knew of the modern tongue, and came up with "Reserve. I must consult the auguries, and prepare; keep this brother alive, if it is within your power." The pacing Witch turned, and came face-to-face with Raspur, heedless of personal space or the stench he must be suffering from. "This is necessary. A living sacrifice is far more potent. You must be patient, but ultimately, you will have that which was promised you." She decided, stepping back to allow Raspur to breath freely, that there was no point asking how he would trust the necromancer in this. Either he did, or he didn't.

"If I might ask," she finished off-handedly, "Who was she? I presume it is a 'she'. And more pressingly, who is it I have just promised to kill for you?" All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

15-Oct-2015 23:46:58

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[RP] Into The Fire