RuneScape Forum Archive | [RP] Into The Fire

Laser Gunk

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"Aye, 'e wuz the apple fer me eye, save me ole daughter an' lover o' course," Ryle acknowledged to Karstone. He appeared impassive until several tears began to blot his bloodshot, crazed green eyes. His chest quivered with emotion and he squeezed the old dog's hand when he shook it animatedly.

As Alicia opted to leave, the undead pirate composed himself, striding restlessly to and fro. He was not sure why the woman had left, but he had never cared for snot-nosed babes, especially not in the ennui of seniority.

Neither did he understand much of what the elf said. When he stopped pacing, he sized the creature up. Neither had he ever liked elves. He looked at Karstone as if requesting a translation, and habit bade him rest his hand on the hilt of his sword at the same time.

"Is there summat more o' wot I ought know affectin' my business 'ere?" The corsair grunted. "I like ter git my 'ands dirty." Realisation crept along his face. He thought of something and smiled slyly. "An' 'oo is involved?" 'Oo are ya

28-Jun-2016 23:00:15

Own Amnesty

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He was a long way from the Khaliyan dunes, that much he knew.

Pehra, he was called. The dried blood around his eyes cracked and crumbled away as he opened them. His wrists and ankles shackled, his tunic was absent and his breeches nearly were, too. His feet were blackened, hands split asunder and bloody. Whereupon his chest was once a clan tattoo, now was a bloody brand, oozing, surely infected. He winced.

God rays illuminated what the extinguished lantern above him would've otherwise: A dank cell. Straw in one corner served as a bed. In another, there was a chair. In the third was Pehra, and in the fourth was a rat, tail clipped short, that stared at Pehra with beady black eyes. His, and probably the rat's, eyes followed the rays to the barred porthole from whence they came. Pehra surmised that it was mounted at street level, explaining the extraordinary chill and dampness of the cell. He wasn't sure what the rat surmised.

The Khaliyite stood with some difficulty and found his way to the farthest wall. He dragged the chair to where he stood. He stood upon it and looked through the porthole. He saw Og City.

Eyes, once bright and amber, now dull, found the cell gate as he turned round. He shivered, for they'd shaved his head and his face, and while his beard was returning quickly the hair on his scalp was slower. He feared that he would freeze to death soon.

What could the Ogres possibly want with a vagrant Khaliyite?

Joe? It's your post on Hard Times.

30-Jun-2016 12:39:58

D F Angel

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Outskirts of Myrkvior

"You have good intentions," Armando Godkiller said solemnly to Joric, "But I cannot lend aid here and give Soahc a head-start in the process. This is how he works- I'd wager my life he's timed things so as to distract us with this hag folly. I won't give him the satisfaction of waylaying me. You should not either, though I know your hands are tied by honour."

The way he said it, it seemed clear what Armando thought of honour. Wheeling his warhorse around once more, he looked down upon the adventuring party from atop his steed. Annie was asking him if he would stay to help, but before Armando could answer her he heard what Rovaan had to say, and laughed at the man's comments.

"You wear a helm, but I recognise that arrogant tone. You're the idiot warrior who let that sneak-thief woman rob me of my sword, so I couldn't assist in the defence of Copperdale. Told me it was a knight's duty to get robbed. Pah! Perhaps it's for the best you are not accompanying me, you have the wits of a stoat."

Turning away from him and facing the others, he said: "Should you be victorious, make haste north. The true war is the war against the Deceiver, and all those who tarry here doom us to oblivion."

With his somewhat pious and definitely outraged speech over with, Armando rode off towards the small group he had rallied to his call, taking a small moment to promise Skullvulture that, should they ever meet again, Armando would slay the man. With that, he and his group departed.

Etheldredda watched the man go with some disdain.

"He's right, you know," Tempora Sage advised her. "Hags are child's play compared to the machinations of the gods."

"Save me your pious drivel," Etheldredda responded. "You don't know hags like I do. You have no idea what they're capable of." She could hear the laughter of her sisters, see the sinister sneer of her mother, the shadowy foreboding of the Great Mother... Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:01:28

D F Angel

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"I'm more acquainted than you might realise," said Tempora, who seemed to be looking deep into Etheldredda's face, as though trying to figure the woman out. But of course, there was nothing to be seen, nothing but the iron mask, impassive, disgusting, the horrid visage wrought in the image of the very creature they were hoping to slay: The Hagfather.

"If the Hagfather dies, then the hag race dies too," Tempora pointed out.

"Good riddance," said Etheldredda, marching forwards, growing more and more tired of this old mage's moral chirping. "The world will be a better place without them."

"Without hagspawn, too? Your sisters and cousins? Are they all evil? Or simply trapped and fearful, as you were?"

Etheldredda's sigh rattled through her mask. "Your lectures are getting as old as you are. It doesn't matter. The ritual needs to be stopped, that's all I need to know. You can stay here and wring your wrists or you can follow me and save lives."

Tempora Sage raised an eyebrow, but did not comment further. Instead he shuffled besides Annie and stayed silent.

With that, Etheldredda moved upwards and onwards, into the forest of Myrkviðr .

"See blue moss on a tree, turn left," Etheldredda instructed as she began recalling the myriad of traps which lay in waiting in the forest. "They've polluted the nymphs, don't go near gnarled trees, open water or rose bushes. Keep low, giant spiders in the treetops. All the fruit is poisoned. If you can't see where you're stepping, don't step there. Pit traps are their favoured, but there will be traps set to maim, poison or kill as well."

Skullvulture had joined their group, walking impassively at the rear. Ethel doubted the hunter could understand her, but he didn't need to- they were giving him a path directly to where he wanted to go. Etheldredda hated him, feared him, but could not deny he might be invaluable in their mission. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:01:39

D F Angel

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"Annie, I need you to blow away the leaves," Etheldredda said, gesturing the fallen foliage ahead. "Zed, you dispel the mists when they inevitably fall on us." Fog was one of the favoured weapons of the hags, as it combined their preference of illusion magic with their skill in potion-craft. When caught in their travelling mists, which swam their way through the forests on unpredictable pathways, any number of negative effects could influence whoever breathed them in.

"The rocks have blasting runes carved into them. We've not got time to go around, Joric will have to take the brunt of that with his shield." They were powerful, and could incinerate the unprotected in a heartbeat. "Hagspawn are likely guarding the perimeter, but if there are patrols they're most likely to take us from behind." She nodded towards Rovaan, indicating that he should keep watch of their rear.

"They'll be gathered around their central bonfire. The Great Mother and all her children. We kill them to break the spell, or break the spell then kill them. Whichever's easier. If there's any questions, now's the time."

Judy's Respite

Cadmus smiled as Judy told him that she was powerful. Powerful friends was exactly what he needed, what he craved.

"I've not met Soahc, but I would gladly swear my sword to his service," he told her, walking around Judy in a circle as though examining her every inch. "Once I've completed my mission, I'm planning on meeting with him. I can take you to him, if you'll help me."

Arriving in front of her again, Cadmus Lenian flashed a dashing smile, and flicked his blond fringe away from his eyes. "I'm going to avenge my parents' deaths. I am after a beast called Skullvulture, who fancies himself a killer of exotic creatures. I've already sent a golem after him, but should it fail... Summoning a demon would lead him right to me. That's where you come in, Judy." Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:01:48

D F Angel

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Siera's Plight

"Mountains, **?" Read Thorek aloud, scratching his chin at the divide where his grey beard split in twain. "I suppose I wouldn't be much of a dwarf if I refused, would I?" He chuckled at his own merriment, and reaching to his side he moved a halberd off of the seat next to him, hanging it on a rack at the back of his vehicle instead to make room for the musician.

"Well met, Siera," Thorek said to her with a nod and a smile. "In truth I'm heading in no direction. I've been enjoying the fruits of my retirement and travelling the country. Being the general of the War for Dilendain left me a hefty pension, y'see. I'll come see the Eyr Mounts, though there is bad blood between their people and mine. It is not for me to judge others by the sins of their fathers, but what the avians did to the dwarves of this land... Terrible, truly terrible."

He shook his head in disgust of the historical wrongdoing, and then sighed deeply, as though he was a man that had seen far too much wrongdoing in his own life as well. "Forgive my ruminations, the old are left with nought but scars and stories, and I have always been a fan of the latter. Come, sit, and tell me how you managed to tame that hellhound of yours- it must be a riveting tale! We can trade tales from here to the mountains, and sup on the fine ale I brought with me."

Slayer of Azul

"I don't think a man who gave up godhood would be seeking it again," said Vianna, but the hagspawn did not sound too confident in her own thoughts. She was a soldier, a pawn in the game of the hags, and not often sought after for figuring out such enigmas.

"We don't know what a Godsforge can do," Vianna told Cirion unhelpfully, in response to his question as to what they can create. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:01:56

D F Angel

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"Legend says they can create new life, in whatever shape the maker wants. Bloodgift might have used them to make his first army. Which means the dark creatures of today were born in the Godsforge, hags included."

No one seemed to have a definitive answer for when and where hags came to be. Many were of the belief that Soahc had wrought them as a mockery of humanity. The hags themselves did not keep a creation myth- in a culture where progress is made by the daughters overthrowing their mothers and claiming domination of their lands, there wasn't much reflection of their past or heritage.

Looking at the talisman with which Vianna could locate her mother, she could give Cirion an easy answer as to where Soahc was heading. "North is the Great Plains. Nothing but centaurs and ruins. If he's passing through he could be headed anywhere. I don't know anything about this place or its history."

"As for turn-coats..." Vianna paused to think. "We can't count on my aunts. The mummy keeps to himself, the firewoman is insane. The assassin might be won over. My mother meets with a ginger barbarian, part of the mercenary group. Whether that will achieve anything... No, it's just us. Us, and anyone else we find."

In the distance there was a rumbling, slight tremors on the horizon. They were in the lands of the Great Plains now, the land of the one thousand and one centaur clans. Which meant this disturbance could only signal the approach of one thing... Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:02:19

D F Angel

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March of Darkness

"That's the spirit, Brodus!" said Soahc with delight as the once-knight gave hopeful comments about their continued journey. "I never much bother with centaurs, think they bring back bad memories of never getting a pony for Christmas. Feel free to add a cavalry charge to your sword-bank. Should you do well, I might reannoint you. Surely if some bible-bashing halfwit can make a man a knight, then the son of Tyrrus himself can do the same?"

The demigod laughed in delight at his own comment, clearly revelling in the concept of subverting one of his father's holy orders. Turning towards the bloodmetal demon, the Deceiver watched as Spirry made clear his disdain for Brodus and Kira, a murder knight and a pyromaniac, claiming them both to be weak-stomached.

Soahc laughed all the more heartily at that. "He's got you there, sis," said the demigod, winking in the Pyromistress's direction so as to further antagonise her, in his usual playful fashion.

"Oh, I do enjoy your company," Soahc said in a sing-song voice to Mechanical. "You're a step beyond 'ordinary evil'. I like that. Not so much your riddles, though. I'm usually the riddler," he pouted comically to make a point. "The last god would be Arran, and lowest of the gods too. Or maybe this Annie girl I hear so much about. I'll have to ask that priest," he took a look over his shoulder, further down the line where Abraxus Richardson was being beaten and dragged along.

"If Annie's the heir, then I'd hope she wouldn't have a son. Oh, how frustrating! Now I can see why people don't like it when I do this sort of thing."

"You're the last god," corrected Cold Ethyl, leader of the hags, looking on Mechanical with more of an amicable interest than with the disgust the others shared. "Arran's a fool who thought he could enslave hags, and got what he deserved. He is no descendent of gods. He is not the son of Tyrrus." Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:02:28

D F Angel

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"I forget you hags are a fan of prophecy," Soahc noted, stroking his pointed chin as he thought on what Ethyl had said. "Me, the last god? Then the heir would be Arran? Then his son... I've gotta admit, I always thought Arran was ***, not that I'm prejudiced or anything-"

"The heir is your son," corrected Cold Ethyl again, impatient. "Your son by me . And should he bear any children, I will cut their throats myself to prevent this stupid prophecy from coming true."

Soahc gave an overly dramatic groan, but quickly recovered. "You shouldn't have told everyone your bargaining chip, now they'll be trying to snatch your ovaries to remove you from the game."

"And risk my vengeance? You need me, Bloodgift. You need my children. Anyone who prevents me from getting my reward will live to rue it. The women I will flay, the men I will enslave in the breeding pits. I'll have your demons and undead running back from whence they came once they know what I have planned for them, I-"

"Yes, yes," Soahc rolled his eyes as the hag went into full speech mode. "We get it, you're evil. We're evil. Everyone here is evil. We don't need to keep going over and over on that one point."

Turning away from the brooding hag and back towards the mechanised demon, Soahc said, "I'm afraid I don't know any eight-legged ones. I think I'd wager a guess at it being a spider, though. Still, it doesn't matter. My merry men will take care of everything."

Og City

Karstone watched with apprehension as Alicia, his only ally in this room full of monsters, turned to leave. Karstone had of course been smitten by the fact she was a female, but more than that he had believed she would be a keen ally in the investigation to come. But it seemed that the undead pirate and the ogre mountain, along with the blood demon they had seen earlier, had taken its toll on her psyche. She was fearful, she was broken, and she was leaving- Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:02:40

D F Angel

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Only to be accosted by some smooth-talking mercenary fellow.

Karstone was thankful to see this one was an actual unknown, and not another revenant from his forgotten past. Whether his wily charms would be enough to keep the woman around was another matter entirely though, and Karstone had other matters on his mind- namely, the pirate captain that was currently confessing to having a physical relationship with his own daughter.

"He's a merc," Karstone told Ryle, who seemed confused by the flowery language utilised by the elf. Ryle Emeraldian was many things, a slaver and a cretin for sure, but he had fought for the future of the planet as well in Messia. Timruviel Flayvirion had either died or deserted before he could show any loyalty to the cause- last time Karstone had seen him, the elf had been leading a mercenary band to Capital City in order to assassinate Ryle, John Black and Skullvulture.

"Please don't undersell me," Timruviel responded with his cat-like smile, eyes feral. He turned to Ryle Emeraldian to give himself the introduction he believed he deserved. "I am a connoisseur of illicit activities. Mercenary, yes. Banditry, drug trafficking, mob rule, political assassination, secessionist rebellion... I've dabbled in it all. Pirateering too, though not for many a century now. I hear you were the greatest corsair of the age a decade ago, though now you've been replaced by Chane Cléopa and John Black. Still, being third best isn't to be sniffed at."

Why the elf would try to mock Ryle was beyond Karstone, except that it was typical of these villainous types to try measuring their metaphorical members.

"Righ'..." muttered Karstone, turning back to the Big Fat, the gelatinous giantess which towered above them, the beached behemoth that observed them from the turgid stench of her vile, green pool. "'Ave yah years o' magic taught us ought we should know? Ah don' wanna go in blind to mah death, begging yah forgiveness." Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

01-Jul-2016 17:02:50

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[RP] Into The Fire