RuneScape Forum Archive | [RP] Into The Fire

Loaned Shark

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Espionage - The Corpse Lord

Ubaid sat up, frost from his spell crackling as he brushed the residue from his cloak. Thanks to Soahc leaving all their minions behind, and the haste he had evinced so far, all the appealing options he could see of getting around this barrier had been removed.

The irony was, as far as he could see, he was perhaps the best suited to get over the anti-magic wards. He was entirely a creature of the arcane, a gaping hole in the natural order, but the wards adorning his armour were designed to keep his essence constrained and present, and - more importantly - had been designed to keep him hidden and thus safe from harm, as his sarcophagus was. As Brodus had discovered, Ubaid was not a combatant, and relied therefore on not being on the front lines; the gaze of the Judge split across his shell, turned away the scrying eyes of foemen who would discern by magical means where their enemy's commander was secreted.

Meanwhile, his servants were living, breathing people, resurrected in a truer sense rather than simply reanimated, but magic suffused their being. He knew his children well; one moment of recklessness, one punch thrown with the strength they were used to, and the power pictographed across their bodies would be triggered. A little too much haste just climbing up the wall might do it, if they were rushed, and once they reached the top they had no armour. One little cut, one drop of magic-infused blood (the whole reason he had created them, in point of fact) and...

The second paragraph made his ultimate decision a painful one. The risks of defying Soahc in this outweighed the risks of bashing his head against a wall and hoping it didn't reach out and kill him. Though he would have preferred a chance to test his theory, he didn't have the time to do so. He just had to hope the walls would be spoofed by his magically-animated armour being designed to dampen the arcane creature within. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

25-Oct-2015 09:42:32

Loaned Shark

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He alternatively would have liked time to strengthen those wards, to try and hide himself as fully as he had been when he was entombed, but Soahc did not believe in giving them the opportunity to prepare for their missions. Scuffing out a line of the scrying pentagram, and breaking the spell, Ubaid turned to his children and related what he had learned. "Go," he ultimately ordered, "Locate Soahc's servants, and warn them. No magic."

The ghouls stared at him. "Yes, it is unlikely. Try . And then return here. I shall signal you when you may approach, but do so slowly. Remember your gifts."

The monsters set off on their vain quest in opposite directions, and Ubaid scrabbled up the hillock, staying low to the ground. The tower his starting point had easiest access to was, as far as he could see, nothing special, and he was glad that they had yet to get around to rebuilding this one. The same arrow slits, larger openings above them, and a ballista mounted atop the whole ancient construct. And there lay his first objective: find out whether there was a way to manually release the elementals, and jam it. The last thing he wanted was to miss a guard and find out by being swept into the air by a nonliving thing .

He just had to get there, a ghost in gleaming bronze with a white mask where his face should be, creeping through the dead of night in a black cloak.

Constrained he may be, but Ubaid was still a ghost, and his armour was just as bound to him as he to it. He just had to take his suit with him. Retreating down the hill, Ubaid daubed the fingers of both hands in Fahra's blood, raising the congealing concoction to his mask. The dot on his forehead became the pupil of an open eye, bisected by the bars of a set of scales and stippled by the cracks in his face. Upright, in one cup, stood a feather; the other lay vacant but it did not matter, for a dotted line was drawn down into the distance, anchoring the set in place and preventing his judgement. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

25-Oct-2015 09:42:47

Loaned Shark

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Suitable incantations, misdirections to cloud the hungry Judge and sibilant calls for the land of the dead to come forth, issued from his mask to complete the work. Stepping across the Veil took dedication and preparation, if he was planning to come back, but blurring the line and moving in the space between was much simpler when you didn't have a life to risk. The temperature about his frame dropped several degrees, and the undead's physical form faded to a much more traditional translucency, colours dulled and reflections muted. All the better, he felt, to fool the tired eye and blend his dark outline in with the night. As long as he maintained his entreaty, he could stay in this half-way house all the way up to the wards, and then with the framework already in place he hoped to reactivate the spell if being less than corporeal seemed to be an advantage on the other side.

The distant whispering of the heart beating in his chest returned, and at the edge of perception he felt the clink of chains. Satisfied that all was as it should be, the ghost turned and, staying as low to the ground as he could, began the long rush up the hill towards his target tower. To be safe, he would end his spell before he reached the walls and cover the last few paces in the mortal plane proper, aiming to flatten himself alongside one of the arrow slits before someone thought to look outside and begin his ascent to the larger window, where he would enter, as quickly as possible.

Encampment of the Emprie

"Well," the muscles in Sir Charles' jaw pulsated as his teeth ground together, "I know what my price is." He smiled mirthlessly. "Weighted nets, a pike, a musket if you have one or a crossbow if you don't," Since he had never loosed a crossbow in his life, asking for the weapon he had some sort of training in seemed more sensible, "And as much support as you can spare, with more of the same. Shoot it down, stop it moving, stab it to death. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

25-Oct-2015 09:43:07

Loaned Shark

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"You lot can haggle over the price of God's work all you want, I'm not leaving until that fiend's burning in the Hell it came from, and whichever villain summoned it." Funny, he realised, how a spot of good old-fashioned crusading could stop him talking like Hodgan and more like he used to. Still, what he wouldn't give to have the cantankerous old musketeer here-

No. The cantankerous old musketeer would have hit him over the head with a shovel before Charles signed them on, or at the very least been stood right behind Alicia trying to double whatever price they agreed to. Knowing that didn't make Charles miss him any less, though.

After that strangely sobering thought, he glanced down self-consciously at himself. "I wouldn't mind a change of clothes in the bargain, if you'll have me," he pressed his luck with a smile, reminded of how he had been wearing the exact same outfit for at least a month by now. "I don't look like this because I enjoy it. Wouldn't be a tailor around here, is there?"

Contrary to appearances, Charles hadn't completely forgotten about the reason they, plural, were here. Karstone wanted to find out what made ogres tick together instead of beat the stuffing out of each other and call it a day - it was just that that question was, obviously, superseded by the return of the things that haunted his nightmares. Still, no reason not to try and make them all happy, and knowing if the new Kingdom of Og had been elevated purely in the martial arts seemed information worth fishing for to him.

And, by all that was holy, he really did want a new outfit. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

25-Oct-2015 09:43:24

Venom1383

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Espionage - Sileo

Assessing the risk of directly climbing the tower, Sileo felt a gambling mood tonight. He trusted light physics to keep him hidden—he was not invisible nor obscured, merely in a position less likely to be checked. Besides, the others were not the sort to share his subtlety.

He quietly approached the tower and began making his way up, seemingly unhindered by the weight of his equipment. He intended to swing to the walkway and into the two arguing bowmen, where the assassin would quietly cut their throats before proceeding to the top of the tower to dispatch the remaining sentries.

---

Encampment of the Empire - Henry

Henry noticed Charles's cold glare but chose to ignore it. The pompous knight was hell-bent on hunting down that demon. He didn't care, the withered snob could get himself killed and he wouldn't bat an eye. He thought he could escape stuck-up old fools who sought to plunge their sword in everything in sight because they can't get it up anymore. Looks like he was wrong.

He didn't care for the religious side of this whole situation, but he kept quiet for now. Alicia asked a relevant question, so he waited to hear the answer to that. Ramsay Bolton is the king we deserve.

28-Oct-2015 00:32:50

D F Angel

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Hamstead

Food Forage

"Already sliced?" Repeated the baker, eyes narrowing at the albino mage. "You ain't one of those demon-loving types, are ya?" As though the mage was going to transform into Soahc the Deceiver at any moment, the man hastened to gather as many loaves as was required and accidentally fumbled a fair bit more into the bag in his haste to be rid of such heretical customers, snatching the money up and biting it to be certain of its quality.

Though after the two passed on, the baker said again under his breath, "Sliced bread... Well I'll be," though his voice was now one of wonder, and filled with the hopes of marvellous profit margins.

As the two continued on, looking this way and that for any other bargain, or perhaps simply working out the best way to return to the bed and breakfast without having half the town's populace gawping at them, they were accosted by an old lady, who made quite a show of bumping into them.

"Oh, my dears, I'm so sorry!" She said, her withered features hidden behind a shawl which displayed only her eye- eye in the singular, for her right eye was missing. "Such a lovely couple!" She crooned over the two, reaching up to pinch Judy's cheek affectionately. "Here young ones, help yourselves to an apple apiece," she raised a basketful of the fruit, all the red delicious kind, "These didn't sell and they'll only feed the birds if you don't have them."

The Stowaways

If the stranger realised that Joric was making a pun, he did not acknowledge it. "Food must be a difficult commodity to come by in a bed and breakfast," the old man assumed aloud, holding onto his staff for dear life as he crept further into the room, knee joints clacking eerily as he shuffled towards them.

"Well armed travellers, even the ten year old's with sword and shield," he continued, as though accusations came to him as second nature. If Joric and Rovaan being armed worried him, he showed no signs of this either. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

30-Oct-2015 22:34:41

D F Angel

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"Ill news brings me here," he told the dwarf simply, eyes sweeping between the two occupants of the room as though wary one might lash out at any moment. "The prattling blue fool Federico sent for me to babysit our new resident goddess." His voice had a sneer to it, as though thoroughly affronted with the concept. "I'm told the hags are trying to gather as much magic as possible, and that your response is to lead the most powerfully magical girl on the planet right to their doorstep. Of course, the person leading you is a hag, which strikes none of you as suspicious, considering you're playing right into their hands."

He gave it a moment for this to digest, leaning heavily on the staff for support, licking his lips to moisten the ancient skin before continuing. "Then you have to consider what Arran wants. As a man he made more mistakes than he solved, and now he's a god... A ten year old, " he seemed to be talking more to himself now than the others. The man was certainly old, but didn't quite pass for being old enough to have known Arran. After all, no human could live to be several hundred years old.

"A disaster waiting to happen. The more word spreads about her, the more people will try to manipulate her. How difficult do you think it is to convince a ten year old to do whatever you want them to, eh?" He shook his head in disgust. "What's your part in all of this, then? To which puppeteer do you belong? Or are you going to open your eyes and understand what exactly is going on here?"

He raised a sceptical eyebrow as Siera's unattended hellhound fledgling began plodding towards him, but again made no outward signs of worry, instead simply clutching at his ancient walking staff all the more and asking the room at large, "And I suppose that thing doesn't make you suspicious, either?" Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

30-Oct-2015 22:34:54

D F Angel

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The Local Pub

The barwoman raised an eyebrow as Annie- a ten year old kitted out in full armour, with a proper sword and a shield that seemed to be made out of crystal- came up and nonchalantly requested two pints of beer.

"D'you think this establishment became as popular as it did by serving alcohol to underage kids?" She asked sternly, her hand reaching under the bar for something...

" Hell yes it did!" The barwoman finished, beaming as she pulled out two drinks, filled them up at a barrel, then smacked them down on the countertop in front of Annie. "I'd say you're too young to be travelling, but then again, they said I was too young to have kids, and look at me now!" The barwoman gestured around happily, as though she had reached the pinnacle of the occupational hierarchy- even at her current age, she seemed too young to become a mother.

"Hey, is that woman's hair blue ?" She asked, pulling a face at Siera as though critical of the woman's life choices. "Reminds me of the robes those mages wear. They keep turning up, say their magic has been stolen- nasty business. I mean, how do you reimburse magic ?" She wandered off as another man called her over for a drink, but shortly returned as she'd been mid-cleaning of the bar beforehand, a task she quickly returned to.

"My mate Sally works up in the castle, and she says she overheard our good lord of Hamstead's nephew say that the Time Mage was attacked! By no other than Soahc, no less." She whispered the name Soahc, as though not wishing to accidentally summon the demigod. "Of course, ol' Mister Sage sent the monster on his way, most powerful wizard alive, he is. I hope he comes here, I hear he makes the most splendid wine." She looked longingly over at their establishment's own wine, which seemed to have had something die in it. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

30-Oct-2015 22:35:09

D F Angel

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The Docks

Etheldredda's reaction to Conleth throwing up was, of course, hidden behind her iron mask. However one wouldn't be too hard-pressed to imagine a look of revulsion hiding behind that already repulsive visage. She got the impression that Conleth had been given very little information as to what his true mission had been- perhaps their group hadn't gotten past the introductory stages before they had been set upon by some menace?

"We're also heading to a forest," she told the man, seeing no reason to press further questions onto him, as it seemed he knew very little of how he came to be there. "And likely to have magic used against us. My old coven, or hags den, is trying to summon an ancient monster called the Hagfather. They breed with it, but I also fear the coven has gotten so powerful that together they might capture the beast, and cause untold misery with its near-infinite energy reserves. The coven also keeps dozens of slaves- human, elf, dwarf, anything humanoid that they can force themselves on, in order to field an army of halfbreed descendants. The plan is to get them out if we can, but the main priority is to stop the coven from ever summoning the Hagfather."

The hags had revered the Hagfather as a god, though it walked the mortal plane. But only trueborn hags could call themselves children of the Hagfather. The halfbreed offspring of hags like Etheldredda, called hagspawn, were the result of slaves being violated by their twisted captors. Etheldredda had no feelings whatsoever for her mother other than contempt, as she had been Etheldredda's number one tormentor, but the hagspawn could not deny the hope of finding her father, whomever he may be. She had never been allowed down into the slave pits, had never been given the chance to search for her birth father.

The negotiations with the boatmaster were short; he seemed quite intimidated by Etheldredda's visage and barely haggled for the price of a ride south. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

30-Oct-2015 22:35:22

D F Angel

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Momentarily in silence as they walked back, eventually the hagspawn said, "You seem trustworthy, Conleth. Hags are masters of illusion and trickery, and if they know what we're planning, it won't take long for them to act. I need you to keep a close eye on the group for anything suspicious. Particularly the tall man with the yellow eyes and gauntlet, Rovaan du Leon."

Espionage

A tall man in a traveller's cloak and a dark beard regarded one of the watchtowers in quiet contemplation, a small smile playing upon his thin, cracked lips. Teleportation seemed far too easy for such a fortified location, surely they would have considered magical attacks as well? He could scale the wall, or leap it in a single bound, or grow wings and fly upon the guards like a demonic hellbat. He could transfer his essence out of his body and possess one of the guards, though the last time he'd tried possession some lucky monk had him sealed inside of a flask for the better part of three decades.

Deciding that all of these decisions were tedious and that he was more a man of action, Soahc simply lifted his fists and smashed them into the wall, superhuman strength blasting it inwards with godly force.

Stepping over the threshold, he saw that most of his opponents had been crushed by the inwardly rushing wall. The last man standing drew a sword and swung it, but Soahc simply caught it in his hand and snapped it in two with a lazy twitch of his wrist. The guard stared incomprehensively into Soahc's face, not recognising the evil he faced, before having the tip of his own sword embedded in his throat.

Soahc could hear the guards shouting above about the wall collapsing. A natural assumption, as it seemed almost all of the towers were getting a touch-up recently. It would be simple to pick them off as they came running down the stairs, getting rid of the last witnesses before moving into the village proper. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

30-Oct-2015 22:35:35

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[RP] Into The Fire