RuneScape Forum Archive | [RP] Into The Fire

Loaned Shark

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He hadn't thought, when he gave up and laid his head down on a root last night, that he had much farther to go. Being as right as this was galling, for as he squinted he thought he could just make out the squat shapes of the settlement he had been told was in This Direction. Since the sight was not immediately edible, he assumed it was no hallucination, and put a little life back in his step.

He also hadn't thought very far ahead, in general. This was no epiphany, but since he had a distance to cover and precious little else to do other than sing to himself (and thereby scare off everything for a mile or two, like last time) he pursued it anyway. He had, of course, naught but thanks to offer the monks who had saved his life, and was a God-fearing man to begin with, but for some reason he couldn't quite imagine himself hanging up his sword and donning the habit that had been offered to him. Besides, after what felt like months of interminable gardening and foul curatives, he couldn't even look at a trowel without feeling the urge to stab someone with it.

The next time he fled for his sanity, he resolved for the thousandth time, he had to remember to buy a crossbow first. Or someone who could hunt.

In any event, hearing the stories, he had turned northwards. Organised ogres? If he was truly dying, then that was something he had to see before the end. And if not, what else did he have to do with his life now? He was alone, and friendless, and could not say he was surprised. His home was gone, the men and women he had grown up with, fought and loved all gone their separate ways or to their graves, and in one way or another he could only consider his actions for the last year to be a litany of failure. Tourism, though he did not know the word, seemed as good a plan as any. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

05-Jun-2015 02:46:12

Loaned Shark

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He indulged in the angst for a spell, until the now-familiar tightness in his lungs spread to his throat and his priorities shifted. Silently cursing the day of his drowning, his chest jerked spasmodically as he sped up, reaching the wall of the public house just as his body decided that long enough was long enough. Resting his arm on the side of the building, and his forehead on his arm in turn, the knight's body was wracked by sawing coughs and splutters. His parched throat burned with every wheezing breath, spikes lanced between his ribs. The errant passer-by would have seen him tap the wall impatiently, waiting for it to be done with.

The fit passed, he opened his eyes and wiped away the spittle about his mouth, concerned that it may have marred his beard. The blood in his sputum, he fancied, was a little less bright this time. And the fits were definitely further between, even if they did strike him more violently. What it meant, he had no idea; he was neither medicine man nor magician, and if the monks had failed to identify his presumably magical malady then he had little faith that there was anything to do but carry on as best he could, and trust that God still had a use for him.

Pawing at himself until he was satisfied that he was presentable, or at least not sporting any red streaks, he straightened up. Clapping his hand back to his sword, he trooped around the corner with military precision, boots thudding in the mud, and he pushed open the door.

He did not look up at first, more concerned with cleaning the muck off his boots before he trailed it throughout the tavern. His shock of black hair was wilder, cut raggedly by someone who did not have a mirror or second pair of eyes, and his 'tache and beard had been cut into a goatee. His tanned skin was stretched tighter on his gaunt, wiry frame, and the small scar on his cheek was more prominent because of it.

Sir Charles of Richton, presumed dead, tried to figure out how he would pay for a meal. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

05-Jun-2015 02:46:29

Inferi

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The Fire Priestess

Since man first decided he needed warmth, he turned to the flames that lit his cave. Fire has always been an essential part of life: cooking meals, providing light, scaring away predators. It is one of man's most valued tools, a substance that does so many things necessary for life to flourish.

Yet when fire is turned against man, it becomes a wrathful tool of destruction. His war machines cannot hold it back, his home cannot stand against it, and his flesh will crackle and burn under the touch of the very thing he has relied on for so long. When he brought flame into being, man could not have known what it would become and what it would do to him when he no longer had control of it. It would become an unstoppable force, a tide of destruction that no man could contain, and man would regret ever having relied upon the fire for anything other than his utter obliteration.

He may not have realized it yet, but he would soon understand that utter obliteration was all that fire was going to grant the world.

"

You certainly know how to draw a girl in.

"

The crimson-red lips that spoke those words curled up into a smile as the owner looked down upon the horrors that were being inflicted upon the town of Oakfoot. A terrible name, and even more reason to set fire to the entire place. That was a problem, though; there weren't enough fires. Everyone was dying, but it was all in unsophisticated and mundane manners. There was little point in exterminating lesser beings if they weren't taught the glorious way of the flame in the moments of their demise.

Kira had been following the trail of destruction for a while, gradually gaining on Soahc for a while, but she had felt no inclination to rush. It was obvious that he was leaving this so she could find him, and he wasn't going to start pushing ahead without her there. After all, who could set the world on fire without the spark that would ignite it? Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

05-Jun-2015 03:35:41

Inferi

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It wasn't even possible, and Soahc knew that this was what she had been wanting for her entire life. The world needed to burn, and he was the opportunity that nobody else had ever been.

There was a burst of flame, and the pyromistress was no longer there.

-----

The figure approaching the ravaged city drew more than a few glances, both hostile and not. It was hard not to stare, and she knew it; with a face and body that would make anyone reconsider a life of celibacy, an incredibly revealing dress that covered up just enough to make anyone want more, and a strut that said she knew just how attractive she was and loved to flaunt it, it was hard not to notice. Add in the flowing crimson hair and the bright red color that all of her clothing held, and it was impossible for her not to stand out even in the middle of the most crowded city.

Some might have recognized her by reputation, even if her name was unknown to them. Being one of the most wanted criminals in the civilized kingdoms tended to make people notice even if she hadn't been trying to get them to. She was, too, for she wanted herself to be known. Capture by soldiers or adventurers wasn't something she feared, and in fact most had simply stopped trying. City guards had learned a long time ago that not only would the die if they tried, but she would burn the entire city to the ground in punishment for their attempts. They knew that if she wanted to burn their city, there was no way to stop it, and so most simply let her do what she wanted. The seduction of a baron, his wife, and both his son and daughter in the same night - a feat for which she was still infamous in that part of the world - was preferable to the town burning to the ground.

Adventurers were a different matter, but not much of one. Those confrontations were much more enjoyable. They always had so much more courage than normal soldiers, and that courage was ever so much fun to take advantage of. Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

05-Jun-2015 03:35:46

Inferi

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They all thought they were invincible, and it was the realization that they were not that was the best part. That was when the courage disintegrated and the fear set in, and she could truly toy with them. Kill most, leave the last one or two alive and see what they do. Most liked to beg, and listening to that was almost as good as listening to their screams when the flames ate them up moments later. The brave ones spat curses, but they too never failed to scream before the end. It was like music, and she savored every second of it before leaving behind the piles of ash and continuing on her way.

Most of the army laying waste to the town stayed away from her, either because they were confused or smart enough to realize she belonged here. Some chose not to, however, and approached her with weapons pointed in her direction.

Kira didn't even give them a chance to speak.

Without a single motion, gesture, or word, her eyes glowed a fierce red for a second. As they did, every single person that had been approaching her burst into flame, falling back and dropping their weapons as their screams mixed in with those of the town's inhabitants. A wicked smile once again came to her lips as the pyromistress stepped over one of the flaming bodies and continued on into the town. She didn't have time to deal with stupidity, and anyone that got in her way would meet their end in fire.

Even though she didn't know where exactly she would find the man she was looking for, there was one thing she did know: he would be enjoying himself. His tastes were somewhat less showy than her own, and that meant he was probably just watching rather than actively contributing to the massacre. It was a philosophy that she actually understood, for sometimes watching was the best pleasure of all. Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

05-Jun-2015 03:35:52

Inferi

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Still, she ached for some fire, and some fire is exactly what the town got. With a lazy motion of her left hand, several miniature fireballs blasted out, impacting a house and exploding into a massive burst of flames. The structure was ablaze within seconds, as was the next one and the one after that. She cared little about whether people were in them or not, and in fact doubted it. Burning the people was an opportunity that she got plenty more of, several of them ending up little more than ash on the ground.

As she walked, her cloak burst into flame, but surprisingly was not consumed by it. It followed behind her like a sheet of fire, the flames licking her neck and hair in the process but leaving no marks that they were there whatsoever. Yet as the cloak touched anything flammable, the flames spread to it with alarming efficiency. It was as though she was unable to even be touched by the flames that she commanded.

As more and more buildings and people burst into flame before her, Kira decided that she didn't really care whether or not she found Soahc. There would be plenty of time after the town lay in ruins to have a chat with the demigod, and he had been waiting long enough that a short while longer wouldn't matter much.

Besides,
she thought as she entered a house, only to have an explosion of flame and superheated air blast it apart moments later, sending chunks of flaming wood into anything and anyone in the vicinity,
They wanted the world to burn, and burn it would.
Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

05-Jun-2015 03:35:56

NarBloodwolf

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The Mercenary from Hell

*ovaan had hoped that the town of Copperdale would be a place to find paying work. But form what he saw, the only work was for carpenters and masons. Standing amid a cracked cobble street, the six foot five mercenary looked the ruins of the town over. His yellow eyes seemed to be off in another place as he glanced around. It was obvious that his clothing has seen better days as it looks as if the mercenary had walked through the fires of the Demonhalls themselves. Once soft, flexible leather was now stiff and burnt. Once a well oiled and maintained assortment of random pieces of armor now covered in dust and charred black as coal. The only thing that didn't seem to be damaged was a gauntlet the mercenary wore over his left hand. Made of what looked to be the bones of some sort of beast, and crested with a bright garnet, the gauntlet was a sight in itself. All along the bones were ancient arcane markings that resembled some sort of binding ritual, an odd artifact indeed.

With a sigh the mercenary turned and walked down the broken street away from a healer's place of business broken stones crunching under his armored leather boots. Pulling the hood of a tattered and burnt cloak up over his face the mercenary passed by the ruins of buildings until reaching a more intact part of the town. Needing to find work and to get a drink, the mercenary walked into the first tavern he saw. The Leprechaun's Foot seemed to be a well enough establishment to get drink and food.

Pushing back the door, the mercenary stepped inside. His silhouette almost filling the door between his body and the weapons he was carrying. There was hardly any reaction form the patrons as the mercenary walked in and towards the bar. It wasn't until his eyes adjusted that the mercenary noticed the Guildmaster and the note propped up next to him. It peaked the mercenary's interest to say the least.

05-Jun-2015 05:25:21

NarBloodwolf

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Ignoring the Guildmaster for the time being, Rovaan walked to the bar and sat down on an empty stool. He fished what little coin he had from a charred leather pouch form the folds of his cloak and lay a few pieces on the bar top. All that could be seen of his face was the scruffy light beard on his chin and his mouth as he spoke.

''Ashvale Cider and Devil's Drought mixed together with Blood Lotus my good man.'' spoke Rovaan softly as he took his hand from the coins he sat upon the bar and handed the bartender his silver flask.

An odd combination of drinks to be sure for anyone to order. But for Rovaan it was a classic pairing as well as what he kept in his flask most of the time. A stout but bitter concoction of spirits that practically felt as though one was drinking liquid fire. Not for the faint of heart to be sure nor for the young though it would definitely ''put hairs on your chest'' as the saying went.

It did not take long for his drink to be prepared and ready. With a full flask in hand, Rovaan turned his attention to the Guildmaster as he stood from his seat. Taking a drink of his newly refilled flask as he neared, Rovaan threw back the hood covering his face to literally meet the man face to face. Compared to the well groomed Guildmaster, Rovaan's appearance was less than groomed. His lengthy black hair was swept back to keep out of his face but was a matted mess. In all appearances, it looked like Rovaan had just gotten out of bed.

''Adventurers wanted eh?'' asked Rovaan in a cynical tone as he neared the seated Guildmaster. ''Well I may not be an adventurer but if you need an extra blade I am available. Rovaan du Leon at your service.''

05-Jun-2015 05:25:44

Inferi

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The Musician

Every story has its heroes, the people that jumped up to save the world while asking nothing in return. Legends of these people resonate throughout the ages, inspiring those in the future to take up arms and emulate the deeds of the past. It is these people that everyone looks up to, for heroes are more than just people. They are symbols, icons, something that tells the world that there is still hope left. They keep the common man from slipping into despair, and assure him that the dawn will come no matter how dark the night seems.

And to Siera Nilifen, the night was very dark indeed.

Ever since Copperdale had been saved, she had been stuck. With no way of knowing where Cadmus had been taken, venturing out into the world with no direction would be stupid. No matter how much she needed to get him back, she had no idea where he was and no idea where to find the one person who seemed to have some knowledge of where he might be. It was a hunt that she knew she couldn't undertake on her own, but one that she could not put off for much longer. She had no real friends anymore, only those that knew who she was, and with no voice she couldn't really explain how important finding him was to her.

Besides, nobody would care. She was just the mute musician that played from time to time in order to earn a place to stay. There was almost nothing that she had actually accomplished in the events that had taken place in Copperdale, and perhaps that was a good thing. Nearly everyone else had fought with blade as well as spell, and could say that they were not part of the problematic magic because they could fight another way.

She could not. The sword that emitted ice was still in her possession, although she had long ago magically deconstructed it and turned it into a silver ring that she wore on her finger. It could be transmuted back into a sword at the slightest command, but she did not think that would ever happen. Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

05-Jun-2015 06:50:23 - Last edited on 05-Jun-2015 06:51:00 by Inferi

Inferi

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Her own skill with a blade rivaled a commoner, and a commoner was likely more effective than she. Everything she could do was magical in nature, and although the magic did not stem from the same roots as the magic used by denizens of this world, it was unlikely that those who hated it would care.

Sighing as she rose from her bed, or at least going through the motions of sighing as no sound came from her, Siera stood and walked over to the closet where her few outfits hung. She had been sighing a lot recently, even more than she had before meeting him. It was understandable, of course; now she had lost her home, her voice, and the only friend that she had really made on this world. The first she still had no idea how to return to, the second was the only one she had willingly sacrificed even if the cost had been unknown at the time, and the last was something she had to get back. None of them had any clear way of finding again, but as she had realized in recent days, she could not afford to give up. That meant she would be forever lost, a position she had very nearly been in once, and it wasn't something she was willing to accept.

Donning a slightly newer outfit, one made of white and blue fabric rather than the green and brown that she wore up until recently, Siera stepped over to look in the mirror. What she saw was the same as normal, although the blue in her outfit matched her azure eyes and hair much better, but she knew that normal for now was not normal for what she had been. She had become older, and not simply because of the passing of time. In fact, the passing of time might help fill out her form a little, since she had never been the most well endowed and it wasn't seeming to get much better as her life went on, even though she was nearly twenty-one years old. Still, age had a way of creeping up on those who lived through things like combat with gods and demons, and the look in her eyes was not one that had been there a year ago. Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

05-Jun-2015 06:51:04

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[RP] Into The Fire