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Fantasy Guild of Heroes: Origins

Verraketh / Verxi - Battlefield

Verxi put his hands together and breathed in, energizing all his limbs with Ki power, before rushing forward from the general's right and preparing to strike. Kasumi attacked simultaneously, from the other side, trying to stab at the general.

Verraketh couldn't deflect them both.

As Kasumi's blade and Verxi's fist touched the general, his body shifted unnaturally, revealing that it was a hologram. The real Verraketh appeared behind them, swinging his sword in a wide arc at their backs.

Verxi, understanding his mistake, began to turn. Against bladed weapons, raising one's hands to protect oneself was foolishness. For a monk, it was the best move. Verxi hardened his forearms with Ki, raising them in an x-pattern as he jumped back. Even despite that, the slash of Verraketh's sword was enough to dig all the way to the bone.

Verxi cussed, stepping back as he ascertained the damage and stopped the bleeding and pain with a delivery of Ki. He looked at Kasumi, to make sure she wasn't hurt. "Are you okay?"
[Author's Note: Knowing how life works, the moment she stabbed the hologram, she lost her footing because the blade didn't dig into any physical objects and therefore made her trip. Because of this, she avoided the attack completely. At least that's what I'll assume until Hanarei says otherwise.]

A mortal man definitely would have died from that. In Verxi's case, he'd have to abstain from combat until he found a cleric.

But Verraketh didn't have time to gloat. He withdrew from combat with the two, not having time to finish them off.

Verraketh released his monstrous strength and leaped at least five meters into the air, his cloak fluttering behind him. Simultaneously, he acrobatically spun 180° in the air, deflecting several of Callie's spiritual blades with his own sword.

As he landed, he cut one of her zombies clean in half, then bisected the other two at the midriff with one, mighty horizontal swing. Even zombies, who had undead fortitude and could keep on unliving even when dealt deadly blows, were nothing before one of Verraketh's attacks.

But it was a distraction. He couldn't evade Scarlet's fireballs now. Instead, Veraketh's ring glowed with a mighty blue color in his outreached hand, as it produced a hexagonal forcefield of blue energy. The fireballs hit it and exploded, producing a thick, black smoke. Verraketh dissipated the barrier, but he didn't expect the next thing that happened.

His hand was reached out when he produced the protective barrier.

Scarlet stepped out from the black smoke produced by the fireballs, and in a flash, halved all of the fingers on the left hand.

Verraketh released a cry of fear, for the first time in the entire battle. Having lost his trump card, he shook his head in disbelief, as his red eyes which burnt with soulfire narrowed in shock and terror.

"H-How?"

His only answer was a glass vial containing a red, healing liquid. It hit Verraketh in the face, scouring it. As the acidic healing brew burnt with steam, he screamed. It wasn't the scream of an angry beast, but rather the yell of a desperate man in pain. He felt the potion drip through the gaps in his armor and spread through his body, a feeling akin to having one's skin flayed in thin stripes.

But the undead knight stood, a testimony to his constitution.

Marquis Black charged, taking the chance to step in for the kill. Verraketh, barely noticing him, raised his sword to protect himself. The healing potions temporarily exsanguinated him of his undead fortitude and his vigor. Marquis Black knocked Verraketh's sword aside. It spun through the air and dug into the ground, as the Marquis dealt a free blow.

With his red sword, he cut the unnaturally durable adamantite armor as if it were made from thin paper, sundering Verraketh's chest plate.

Despite the blow, Verraketh, who was now on the ground, lying on his back, still moved and lived. He tried to scuttle away from Marquis Black, but the latter simply stepped forward, spun his red sword in his hands and sent it down, ramming it into Verraketh's eye socket.

Verraketh, like a cockroach, moved for a few more seconds, struggling to push the Marquis away fruitlessly with his hands and flailing his legs in an attempt to put the Marquis off-balance, and yet not making a single sound of being pained, and only making growls of petty wrath and fruitless aggression.

Undead were not alive, so you could not kill them, but you could damage them enough that even the magic that kept them animated failed.

Marquis Black pushed his blade further, widening the division in Verraketh's skull. Then, he twisted the sword and a final crack resounded loudly. With that, Verraketh's hands slumped, his body sagged to the ground, and his red, burning eyes went dark.

Having completed the grizzly deed of indiscriminate murder, Marquis Black swiftly retrieved his sword from the opponent's cranium, resting the blade on his shoulder. If it was bloodied, one wouldn't be able to tell, as the blade was made from a red, glowing metal.

The Marquis sighed, in elation. Nothing feels as good as serving one's country.

He turned to the robed mage beside him. "Aunran, open up a circle. Also, teleport this bastard's corpse. Have the temples purify it, then chop it up into tiny pieces and burn it. Scatter the ashes in the nearest por-- no, that'll poison the water. Feed it to the sanitation slimes. I'd like Turenval to revive him after that."

Aunran nodded and got to work.

Marquis Black turned to the adventurers. Only members of Team One were alive. He walked up to Scarlet, knelt, and picked up one of Verraketh's fingers, with the ring on it, showing it to her. "Good work with cutting it off; I trust you don't mind I take it? You're getting paid, after all. If you want the ring, I'll be willing to give it to you under some stipulations."

He looked to the rest of the team. "You all, good work out there. When we get back to the city, I'll ask the temples to heal you all free of charge if you were damaged."

And then, he looked at the moth. "I don't remember hiring you, but fuck it. I'll pay you back for the potions, moth woman, since your contributions offered a lot in this fight."

"Teleport's ready," Aunran called.

"Alright, let's go in. The battle's bound to break out any moment now." Marquis Black stood in the middle of the circle, just over the corpse of Verraketh.

Instead of sheathing his sword like a normal person would, he used Verraketh's chest as a holster, probably to shit on him all the more. "'Respect the dead' my ass," he spat. "The dead are being disrespectful."

Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt
 
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[div class=inventory]
Inventory
-
Weapons/Armor
  • Leather Armor
  • Cloak
  • Bow
  • Quiver
  • Variety of Arrows
  • Two Swords (Dual Wield)
Items
  • "Lucky" Dice
  • Lucky Coin
  • Thieves' Tools
  • Small Bag
Companionship
-
Negative
  • Verxi (-9)
  • Ayasha (-1)

Neutral (Base 0)
  • Hermy (0)
  • Kasumi (0)
  • Lumu (+5)
  • Callie (+16)
  • Kyndryr (+15)

[/div][/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Scarlet[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Tent Rubble | Doing: Talking. | Interaction: Noble Scion Noble Scion Birdsie Birdsie | Nearby/Mentioned: Everyone else XD [/div]
Honestly, Scarlet had thought she was fucked when he blocked the fireballs, but he had dropped the shield just in time for her blades to meet their mark and slice off the fingers of the general; ring finger included. This action was enough to actually shock him and his voice actually held a tremble. So big bad does still fear. He could have killed her then when she gave him a wink. If she was going to die, it was going to be in a fucking blaze of glory and style. Only she didn't feel a sword slice through her, instead she saw the moth thankfully listened to her and threw the healing potion, giving Scarlet her cue to get the hell away from the very, very unhappy undead thing.

Of course, the glory hogs that nobles are, Black pushed forward to deliver the killing blow. Well, killing in the sense that he made the undead stop moving. He barked out orders on the disposal of the body which she was glad was being taken into consideration rather than have this asshole revived. "Your uh, slime won't get possessed by that ash will it?" she asked curiously. Strong wills could do the damnedest things. Last thing she wanted to hear was the sanitation slimes somehow fell under the general's control in some fucked up way.

As Black picked up the finger with the ring on it and offered it to Scarlet, she stared at it. One of the many lessons you learned when you stole shit was if it's magic, it's gonna be risky and maybe even cursed. However, this also meant it was worth a pretty penny, probably much more than what he would pay her for this mission. "What stipulations exactly? I sure as hell ain't gonna use it myself unless I know that thing isn't evil or cursed. I won't deny I'm interested in it because it's worth quite a bit, but... I also know that thing might be better just fucking destroyed. Intuition tells me it's better to destroy it , but the last magical ring I heard of had to be destroyed in a volcano. Might be better to find a place where it can be good and lost."

"Oh also," she said turning for a moment to the moth girl, "Good fucking aim darling!"
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Ayasha
Location: Behind enemy lines
Interaction/s: Hermione ( Rumble Fish Rumble Fish ), Kasumi ( Hanarei Hanarei ), Callandar ( Epiphany Epiphany ), Scarlet ( Fable Fable ), Lumu ( Noble Scion Noble Scion ), Kyndyr ( Tarmagon Tarmagon ), Verxi & NPCs ( Birdsie Birdsie )



The battle came to an end without needing much of Ayasha's aid. Not that she wanted to, anyway. She was originally here because she was following the satyr, Hermione. Of course, many things came with that - meeting new faces, going through unfamiliar territory, and the best part, being able to harvest as much essence as she ever did in the past few days.

The aftermath of the battlefield was riddled with corpses, which Ayasha took advantage of when the rest were busy ganging up on the thing that proudly called himself. Verateeth, was its name, or something of the sort. While initially, the creature's presence in the field intrigued her, but the moment it showed that it wasn't even that competent to fend off a band of misfits made her lose her intrigue on it. She darted through the battlefield, unnoticed, extracting precious essence from the fallen, both from the foe's army and the Marquis's forces.

When Varykinks was finally vanquished, Ayasha managed to sneak in a small sip of the essence that leaked from its corpse - the taste was quite different, but it was filling nonetheless. Finally finished siphoning energy and storing it within her like an ever-growing slime, she licked her lips, as if she had just taken a delightful meal.

She, then returned to Hermione's side, wrapping her arms around her shoulder without any restraint.

"Hermy~", she whispered, exhaling yet another chill-inducing, fragrant scent. "The fight is over. The job is done."

A smirk formed on her face.

"But we still have...", she said, breathing gently on the satyr's back. "...something else to do~"
 
Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt
By a majority vote on Discord, it has been decided we'll be skipping this round in favor of advancing the story.

~~~
Once everyone gathered, the magic circle took them back to Auroria.

In a flash and a movement of the bowels, the group of adventurers stood in an uncannily fortified castle foyer, that looked less like a foyer and more like an armory that was being barricaded. The front gate was open and the townspeople were proceeding through in an orderly line, guided by the guards. Some other guards were carrying boxes of supplies or bags of grain and stacking them, while simultaneously making a palisade from wooden planks and setting wooden spikes into it.

"Report!" Marquis Black barked.

"Sir!" A guard came close and saluted with a bow and a hand on his heart. "The enemy forces have lost a tenth of their numbers by battle of attrition near the walls, but we've lost half of our infantry; half of those are dead. All of the injured have been relocated to the east wing and are being treated by clerics. The enemy is breaking through the walls, though it seems a third of the enemy forces has retreated moments ago when they saw the fire in their camp."

The Marquis smiled ferociously, giving the meek guard a ray of courage. "Excellent, then we still have a chance to win! Good call on evacuating the people," Marquis Black congratulated him. "Do we have oil barrels available?"

"Only a few, sir. We've been saving them."

"I want those barrels on the main street, by the exterior gate. When the enemy enters, give them a hot surprise, collateral damage be damned; I want a platter of well-done bastards served with their blood as a condiment!" he barked out the orders. Literally barked them out.

"Sir, yes, sir!" the guard, with renewed vigor, affirmed.

"How long until they break through?"

The guard didn't waste time and answered almost instantly. "We expect it to take five minutes, sir."

That gave him pause. "In that case... carry on with that plan, but be ready to drop everything and flee. Issue the orders, and I'll consult our mages and the adventurers."

The guard nodded. "Your wish is my command," he said, saluting again, and bowing out. He ran off, conveying the information to his fellow guards.

Marquis Black spun around on his heel, facing Scarlet and the rest of the team. "This is the stipulation. Help me hold the castle, and I'll pay all of you double, and give the ring to the MVP who stands out. So far, my money's on the moth."

"I am not for sale!" the piece of jewelry articulated loudly in an irritated tone from its place on the dismembered finger that the Marquis held. When it spoke, it flashed blue with each syllable. "What is this place, anyway!?"

"You can talk?" Marquis Black eyed the cursed item in befuddlement.

"Yes. Also, I don't know how, but there is a dragon in this room," the sentient item told him nonchalantly. "Like, seriously, I can't make sense of it myself, but every little bit of my aura sense tells me there is a dragon in this--- hey, lady with the white hair! Was one of your ancestors a dragon perchance? I'm almost eighty percent certain this predatory aura is oozing out of you."

"Now's not the time for this! Who are you?" the Marquis annoyedly asked.

Candidly, the ring answered him, "Why, me? I am Mephistopheles, Archdevil of the Eighth Circle. Pleased to make your acquaintance, also, if I could cast magic on my own, you'd have been turned into a frog by now. Forever. This is no way to talk to a deit--"

"Shut up or I'll throw you into a volcano," the Marquis threatened with a venomous whisper, seemingly done with the ring's constant incessant whining, which, he felt was done deliberately in order to piss him off.

"Touché." After that, the ring remained silent.

The Marquis looked at the adventurers, explaining his intent once again, "I need you to help me hold this foyer when they start breaking through. If we don't, they'll get to the townspeople. Naturally, I'll pay you double, and the MVP gets the ring. Can you do that?"

"Oi, old man. Your odds of victory are less than fifteen percent at this rate. Your odds of survival are---"

"Shut. Up. Will you?" the Marquis looked ready to throw the ring on the floor and smash it into tiny bits with a crude hammer.

"Hey, calm down, I'm just making a business offer. Let me possess one of your schmucks and I'll make a ritual barrier that can't be penetrated by anything."

"No way in Hell!"

"Actually, there is. There is lots of ways to do this in Hell."

"You would know."

"Yup!" the devil said cheerfully, popping the 'p.'

"Why do you need a body, in the first place? I saw Verraketh casting spells without that!"

"First of all, I'm out of mana. Ergo, ritual. Second of all, this is a barrier to surpass all barriers. Ergo, ritual. Thirdly, my metaphysical nose has been really itchy and I can't scratch it when I'm a wavelength of infernal intent bound to a ring. And lastly---"

"Any volunteers?" the Marquis perked up an eyebrow, raising the ring into the air.

"I want the dragon girl to be my vessel, they have lots of magical ener--"

Marquis Black curtly interjected with a calm voice, not even looking at the ring, as he said, "Volcanoes."

"Point taken." The ring went back to silence.


Next in order to post is Rumble Fish Rumble Fish , followed by Hanarei Hanarei and Tarmagon Tarmagon .
 
Hermione "Hermy" Puckette
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Hermione did not have much time to react about their victory. If anything, she had to actually stop and process what had just happened right now. They had defeated him? She had not expected that. If anything, she expected this encounter to kill her. Once they were whisked away thanks to that teleportation rubbish, she took time to figure out where they were. Some kind of fortress. She looked towards Scarlet with a smirk, "Hm. Good plan. I mean... I had been considering it myself but, eh yer better with words." she belched slightly into her fist after speaking before looking at the moth, Lumu. She had done well, as she walked past her, she gave her a quick pet on the back of the head. Not before giving her palm a wipe on her poncho first. She had remembered what Lumu had said before.

But as they were greeted by Black, she let out an annoyed huff at the mention of another job. “Blast. Was hoping to have a one-man-celebration at the pub.” She said mostly to herself as Black came to congratulate the group on their efforts. She rolled her eyes a little as he mentioned more work. Great. But there was a chance for more reward. And he seemed to refer to a piece of jewellery… Hermione tilted her head slightly. It looked valuable. If she got her hands on it, who knows how much she could get for it? She was about to open her mouth to say something, possibly give some kind of words of encouragement or assuring she would do her best. But... she was interrupted by a... wait. The ring?

Hermione coughed a little on her wine as she heard the rock speak. She looked at the others with a glazed expression, “…I’m no’ the only one that heard that right?

As the… um… ring gave Callie an earful about being a dragon, she let out a weird mix of a laugh, belch, and cough as she gave the white-haired lady a snarky look, “Pfft… you got feckin’ schooled by a rock. I mean I’m hated by everyone but…” she snorted, “A ROCK?!” she laughed heartily before coughing. She managed to quieten herself down by taking on more wine to calm herself down.

When they started talking about battle plans, Hermione rolled her shoulders. “Arrows… Knives… Horns… Eh, It’s a distraction at least.” She shrugged. She looked at the stone again, still thoroughly entertained by the fact that the ring could speak. She only hoped she was not the only one to hear it. If only the ring could drink, she’d fun to have a pint with.

Hanarei Hanarei Noble Scion Noble Scion Fable Fable
 

Kasumi Yasashīha

A sense of relief filled Kasumi as they made it back, though it wasn't a sense of relief that lasted very long. It was quite clear the fight wasn't yet done, all they had was a short bit of time to catch their breath. Kasumi brushed her blade against the sheath before slipping the blade back into place by her side. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she tried to ease herself down from the adrenaline high of battle moments ago. Her training might keep her calm in a fight, but it didn't change how her body would react without having her mind work to ease her tension. She bounced a bit by moving up onto her toes repeatedly taking a deep breath before settling back down.

Upon hearing the plan she only simple nodded in response, though the talking ring had left her looking rather confused. It seemed rather silly to have such a mundane object talk. A talking weapon made sense or possibly even a piece of armor but something as little as a ring seemed so silly. As the ring spoke out rather doubtful of their success she looked up in thought tapping her chin. The whole notion of possession didn't even register in her mind as she seemed to be fumbling with the numbers taking it quite literally. Perhaps thinking it over way more then she should.

"...but how do you actually come up with a percentage chance? There are so many variables to take into mind to make it work. You don't actually see the army to know what their actual structure is nor what their methods might be, and then you don't fully know our capabilities. That and even if you knew our capabilities then you would have to factor in stuff like what we would actually do or are thought process and then compare it to the enemy and what they would do. Not to mention other factors of our environment that could benefit or hinder us. Even with all those details then and you knew everything accurately then how would you get a percent chance.... wouldn't it just be a 'you can do it, or you can't do it'? Heck even without knowing all the stuff an exact percent chance seems like it wouldn't make much sense..."

Kasumi looked to be in her own world as she rambled on quitely not quite loud enough to make it sound as if she was trying to speak to someone but audible enough to be heard as hyer hand remained on her chin trying to figure out just how the heck the weird ring thing could ever come up with a percentage chance when it sounded like something some cheesy novel might come up with to raise the stakes.




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STATUS Location: Auroria
Mentioned: Birdsie Birdsie (Sorta)

 
Lumu Muna
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The battle was over soon enough, their enemy deceased, and while Lumu hadn't been looking very intently at the fight, she had gotten a rough gist of what had happened, and it left the moth feeling somewhat queasy. Or perhaps the dragon-lady's pants hadn't gone down well, but either way, Lumu wanted to get away and nest somewhere for the night.

Despite the moth peoples' nocturnal origins and the truth behind why the moths had flown around bright lights being that it had messed with their biological means of navigation, magic had evolved that simple quirk into an unholy fascination as they had adapted to a more human appearance for better survival, despite lacking the brains to make the most of their new form, and while that navigation by light was still built in, providing them night vision, seldom did they actually stay awake throughout the night as their ancestors had.

This strange quirk of their people came in rather useful to Lumu at the given moment as she noticed something that, had her senses not been honed throughout the ages to notice glimmering things, she would never have seen otherwise. The critter bobbled away from the fluffy archer and stumbled quickly over to the light-blue rock that was glowing softly in the limelight and slipped it into the small bundle of fluff on her neck. Choosing to keep it close to where she could look at its strange prettiness instead of the much more practical bag she carried with her.

Swiftly being hurdled along with the rest, Lumu travelled to the circle with her newfound beloved possession in-neck-fluff, and listened to the mean man's words, which to her surprise, where kind and spoke well of her actions, causing her to bristle slightly in embarrassment before crouching down, lowering her head into the fur that was hers and sat there within the circle, gazing at the shiny blue rock hidden from everyone else, temporarily forgetting both her true goal and what had just happened in favour of looking at the gently emanating crystal.

Lumu's intelligence was more than others of her species, but her fascination with shiny things remained the same.
Birdsie Birdsie , kinda Rumble Fish Rumble Fish
 
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Kyndryr, back in town, trying to decide whether or not Marquis Black is totally insane.
To say that the end of their battle and been, anti-climatic, would be a serious understatement. Events had seemed to conspire against the undead general, though he had still managed to inflict casualties on the Marquis' troops. When Torch had managed to remove the finger bearing the enchanted ring, things had gotten interesting. The little moth creature's potions had rendered the undead vulnerable, and that had been that. With the raid an apparent success, the Marquis had decreed their return to the town, after confiscating the ring that had appeared to allow the general to work magic. Unfortunately, while the teleport back to town was uneventful, things quickly deteriorated once more as the Marquis received the reports from the troops he had left behind. It seemed that the loss of their commander hadn't made it to the front line troops yet, and they were well and truly intending to carry the gates.

The Marquis began to issue orders, then turned to the group and dropped the other boot. Now they were expected to defend the town, for double pay of course, and the person the Marquis decided upon would receive the ring to boot. The satyr seemed to be considering things, at least until the kitsune decided it was time to resume her torment of the poor creature. Everyone's attention became riveted on the ring when it spoke up in active protest over the idea of being handed out like a bauble at the faire. Kyndryr remained still, fixing all of his attention on the ring and the Marquis as they began to talk back and forth. The Marquis still seemed enamored of the idea of gifting the ring as a reward, and then further of a mind to accept the ring's offer of 'protection' for his town. Kyndryr, on the other hand, had paid rather more attention to the name the ring bestowed upon itself.

"I am Mephistopheles, Archdevil of the Eighth Circle," the ring had said. That simple pronouncement sent fingers of ice dancing along Kyndryr's spine. You did not make deals with devils, you sent them back to whatever hell had spawned them. As the 'discussion' continued, Kyndryr began to see the loopholes and omissions, though the Marquis seemed oblivious to them. The satyr seemed to find the ring's speech hilarious for some reason, and the swords-woman rather confusing, at least if her rambling commentary was any indication. As the Marquis asked for a volunteer to wear the ring, Kyndryr let out an exasperated snort.

"Great Goddess," he said, his voice flat. "Have you taken leave of your senses? You wish one of us to voluntarily submit to possession by the 'Cold Lord' himself? And have you actually considered what it offered you? A ritual barrier that can't be penetrated by anything? Did you think to ask about the size of this barrier? Did you ask what would actually be protected? Did it even cross your mind that if the barrier completely encompassed the town, we would be trapped within? Such things tend to work both ways, and the whole point of joining your little endeavor was NOT to starve to death in a town under siege. I have no desire to starve behind a barrier. Oh, and how, pray tell, do you intend to exorcise the demon should the work actually be accomplished to your satisfaction? How do you intend for it not to lay waste to the very town you strive to save? Maybe it does produce a barrier as promised, then unleashes an inferno within."

Kyndryr waved at the body of Verraketh that had been teleported with them, a grim smile on his face.

"Have you given thought that the soldiers attacking do not yet know their general lies in pieces?" he asked. "One wonders what would happen should his body be displayed on a pike before them. Oh, and perhaps you should consider providing immediate aide to the pugilist there? Those slashes appear bone deep, and while they do not bleed, I imagine that whatever power he is using to hold his blood within his veins could better be used in defense of this town. Myself, I shall assist in defending the common folk, but I shall have no part of any dealings with a devil, much less a Lord of Hell."

Birdsie Birdsie
 
Marquis Black / Mephistopheles / Verxi

"Yeah, okay, hoodie. You do that, show them the corpse of their dead boss when they clearly have the advantage and won't care in the slightest. I tried to help, but the proverb checks out: You can lead the horse to water; but you can't make him drink." Mephistohpeles sighed, doing so audibly on purpose, as to further aggravate Kyndyr.

Then, he protested on a topic of infernal political correctness, "Also, I beg your pardon, I am lawful evil, not braindead evil. What reason do I have to raze this town? You may not be educated enough to know this, but devils and demons are different species! I don't apply stereotypes to you just because you're a half-elf!"

Demons are a species of fiends, coming from the Abyss; an infinite realm with infinite layers. Due to its infinity, the number of demons is infinite. Demons are a scar on creation itself, seeking only to seed destruction wherever they go. In response, the Gods created devilkind to combat them, so they could focus on creating worlds and sentient beings.

After eons of fighting the creatures from the Abyss, the devils understood they could never win. With each skirmish, they lost more and more troops, and couldn't create new ones quickly enough. To stall for time, the devils took on the cruel, merciless tactics of their opponents, took on similar countenances to confuse them, and added their own cunning intelligence to gain some leverage in the conflict.

Once the gods created worlds and sentient beings, the demons attacked these, too. The gods created mountains, oceans, and wastelands to seal up the gates to the Abyss, but their creations defied their orders and explored their worlds, unsealing the gates. The gods could not understand why their creations did not follow their instructions, until the leader of the devils, Asmodeus, explained to them that their system did not work because it relied solely upon voluntary compliance. Asmodeus explained that the only way to ensure obedience was to threaten mortals with a disincentive; hence, Asmodeus invented the concept of punishment.

Asmodeus convinced the gods to sign a contract called the Pact Primeval. This contract allowed Asmodeus and his fellow devils to take up residence in the abandoned realm of Baator, to punish the souls of wicked mortals, and to extract magical energy from the souls under their care in order to fuel their powers. Otherwise, Asmodeus reasoned, they would have to be granted the powers of godhood in order to do their job, which the current gods would surely find unacceptable.

At first, the gods found the arrangement agreeable. However, they eventually realized that fewer and fewer mortal souls were ascending to the Upper Planes, and Asmodeus was deliberately tempting mortals to damnation. When they arrived in Baator, the gods found that Asmodeus had turned it into a nightmarish world of endless suffering, filled with countless new devils. When called to account for his actions, Asmodeus uttered the famous words, "Read the fine print."

Since then, devils have been tempting mortals to serve them in various ways, become devils themselves, or to sell their souls and become future mana batteries. Although many are skeptical and view devils with distrust due to the church's teachings, most people are aware that devils are inherently not opposed to society, since they fight the 'real enemy' that are demons, and they also know that devils keep their word to gain mortalkind's trust.

Hearing Kyndyr offer that Verxi should see a cleric, he shook his head. "My arm's fine, Ki makes the blood congeal and keeps the pain away. If I focus on evading attacks, I'll be able to fight for a good while. I'd rather have the clerics work on the fatally injured people."

"Actually, I think we should prioritize the fact that -- Callandar, was it? -- doesn't have any pants," he said, a bit quieter, sneaking a glance in the woman's direction.

The ring snorted audibly, "Pfffft! I didn't even notice, I got distracted by the draconic essence! How did that happen?"

Marquis Black, ignoring the question, looked at the ring. "How did you end up like this?"

"You really have time to spare to ask that? Well, fine. Turenval summoned me, and he was preparing to bind me. As it dawned on me what was going on, I shifted my memories into a dormant state and set them to reactivate when the wearer of the ring was unconscious, before he could seal me and wipe them. Unfortunately, the bastard lich took most of my power from me. My godhood has been revoked, and my status as an entity is diminished to a simple low-grade devil for the time-being, even if my knowledge is immense. That is why I was locked in this ring."

"So Turenval has your power?"

"Yep," he popped the 'p.' "I did not expect him to take away my essence, though. It was a gamble, and I lost the bet this time. Nonetheless, I have all of my memories intact, I believe. That includes all my knowledge of spells and rituals, so you can trust me on that barrier I promised you, if you end up taking the deal."

He then spoke, targeting Marquis Black with his words, "Your strategy of hitting the commander was foolish. It might help guard some nearby villages that were on that asshole's list," Mephistopheles metaphysically pointed at Verraketh's corpse, which still trailed black smoke after the healing potions and Kyndyr's attack hit it, "But this town is as good as gone. Those soldiers still know their current order: take this place. They might not be too organized, but they'll capture this town, they'll send a letter out for reinforcements, and then they'll get relocated to a new commander to continue fighting."

Mephistopheles' form glowed blue intermittently as he laughed, jarring the Marquis' ears. And then, he summarized, "You have no choice, but to beat this army or be gutted like pigs in this castle. Since, if that happens, I will be recaptured by them, you can count on my cooperation for now. It is the promise I make to you, and a promise from a devil is firm."

"Any ideas?" Marquis Black asked, turning to the team for advice.

"Most conflicts begin because both sides have good ideas," Mephistopheles said. "If you don't like barriers, I also know a ritual that temporarily joins all minds in a certain radius into a collective hivemind. Maybe if everyone can think together about their problems, we can find a common groun--"

"Any... other, ideas? Ones that aren't stupid?" Marquis Black asked, a tad irritated.

"You want pragmatic? Let's carpet-bomb the city," Mephistopheles told him, deadpan serious.

"Assuming, I even allowed that to happen, what would you carpet-bomb it with?"

"I'unno, just throwing food for thought around. I'd do it myself if I had the mana to. In my prime, turning this city to ash would take a few minutes. If it so pleases you, I can cast any of my spells as a ritual, but I won't be able to cast it on time without a magic circle to tap into the leyline directly. Also, if you go through with this, just a warning; said leyline might go offline for a day or two. It-may-also-go-dry-but-you-didn't-hear-that-from-me. In any case, a body for me to prepare the circle is required."

The Marquis gave the ring a long look, his eyes speaking volumes about his thoughts; he was considering going through with this.

Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt

Since Epiphany told me to skip her, Noble posted already, and Reinhardt won't post even if I nag him to do so for three days, let's go.
 
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Inventory
-
Weapons/Armor
  • Leather Armor
  • Cloak
  • Bow
  • Quiver
  • Variety of Arrows
  • Two Swords (Dual Wield)
Items
  • "Lucky" Dice
  • Lucky Coin
  • Thieves' Tools
  • Small Bag
Companionship
-
Negative
  • Verxi (-8)
  • Ayasha (-1)

Neutral (Base 0)
  • Hermy (0)
  • Kasumi (0)
  • Lumu (+5)
  • Kyndryr (+15)
  • Callie (+16)

[/div][/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Scarlet[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Fort? | Doing: Talking. | Interaction: Birdsie Birdsie Tarmagon Tarmagon | Nearby/Mentioned: Epiphany Epiphany [/div]
"W-Wait just a damn minute," Scarlet protested as Black offered the ring to the MVP. He had literally just offered it to her! She crossed her arms over her chest as the noble seemed to have completely ignored anything she had said about the ring. The fucking thing was talking, identifying as a devil, and asking for a host. Honestly.

The clumsy swordswoman asked how the ring would've know their odds, perhaps she wasn't as dim as Scarlet first assumed. Maybe it was all an act, either way she was going to keep a closer eye on that girl now that she displayed some logic and her fighting abilities.

At least the half-elf knew you didn't fuck around with rings like that as well. "Listen to him," she said with a nod in Kyndryr's direction. "You're insane if you're gonna even give the ring away. That thing has no loyalty, wants to possess someone, and more than likely is fucking cursed beyond belief."

The ring rambled on it's life story as well as the reason they were going to fail. She knew it was right, the army would be disorganized without the general, but that didn't mean they were going to completely give up on their mission to take this place. "Let's just not listen to a devil ring for advice. It's going to look for a way to regain it's former self and everything it says would clearly be a path of self interest. You give in to it's offers now, you're taking it down the path it needs. There are other ways to deal with an army who has lost a leader and isn't organized enough. Who would take over command of the army should the general die? Maybe Callie can conjure up an undead believable enough to pass off as the new army commander and direct the army away, but some time to maybe evacuate the city before they come back."

"It's a long shot, but a possibility. Or hell, how indestructible are those sanitation slimes? How many ya got? Who says those slimes can't go be an annoyance to the army for a bit. Eat away their armor and weapons. I'm sure they'd love that. Or perhaps since this city will be lost, evacuate away from the army, and let them into the city, then fucking blow the city up along with the army."
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Ayasha
Location: Auroria
Interaction/s: Verxi & NPCs ( Birdsie Birdsie )



Several interesting things transpired as time passed by. Callandar was alleged to be a dragon, and it sounded reasonable enough, especially with how Ayasha thought her scent was different from the others. Then, the ring spoke and said that it was actually a demon trapped in it, and a lot more.

But the battle isn't over yet, as it seems. The army, even without their general, stands before the city - and with them, the impending doom of this city. The troops of the Marquis won't last long enough, nor will these people if left alone. And while Ayasha could care less about this city, but there was just too much good prey in here for her to just abandon it like that.

She took a deep breath. She didn't like intervening and acting like a hero, but for the sake of the delicacies she could devour, she decided to do so. Well, in some sort, at least.

"I'd rather not blow up the city.", she said, with a flirty smirk. "There's a lot of...worth in here."

She subtly licked her lips in a quick moment.

"If Callandar here is truly a dragon...", she pointed to her. "...then she can easily turn the tides should she gain back her old form, even if only for a short while. And if we combine forces, I'm quite certain we can hold the front and buy time."

"But if you truly are desperate for help...", she added. "...I've heard rumors about two people who brought down an entire army with just the both of them. They might be the best ones suited for this predicament. That is, if you can ever find them."
 
Hermione "Hermy" Puckette
andi_concept_sketches_by_crescentvenus-d5io4bj.jpg

Hermione kept rather quiet (apart from puffing her cheeks, she did have some awareness) as she listened to them talk about the ring and the plan for attack. The Satyr rolled her eyes and scratched her left leg with her right hoof. When she was un-successful, she stamped her left hoof several times to attempt to rid it of the itch. Eventually, she had to kneel down to scratch it manually. Her tail swished in annoyance at it. She knew why they itched so much, but… the cure would involve water. And Hermione wanted nothing to do with water.

She looked to Lumu as she seemed embarrassed about the praise she was receiving. She smirked slightly. She did not care much for the fact no words were given to her but it didn’t matter. She frowned as she then heard Kyndryr speak. She was still annoyed at this half-elf. Something about him put her off. “Oooh great Goddess…” she muttered in a mocking tone with a slight wave of her hands. Something about his tone annoyed her. As he mentioned that he was not willing to take part in the fight, the Satyr blew some of her unruly hair out of her face, “Isn’t that most elves get off to? Proving themselves better than others?” she asked, though she did smirk as Mephistohpeles told him off for what he said. Some karma as far as she was concerned. She had heard enough self-righteous bullshit from elves. Enough for a lifetime.

One of her large ears flopped as Verxi mentioned something about Callie not wearing pants. She hadn’t noticed herself. Well… yes she had. A lot. And she had tried not to stare. She didn’t like Callie but she couldn’t deny, the dragon lady was attractive. Seems fur was a good enough cover for herself given she herself was only in a grey poncho. But at the mention of simply carpet-bombing the city, the Satyr blinked, “…Yeah… I’d rather not die that way.” She said with a chuckle. Though in truth, she was pretty concerned.
When Scarlet spoke up, defending Kyndryr which made her roll her eyes though she had a point in saying the ring had “no loyalty”. Still, she did wonder what possession would feel like. Curious. She opened her wineskin as she listened to Ayasha speak about not wanting the city blown up. She looked at the woman as she spoke. Part of her wanted to move closer to her but at this point she was not sure. Hermione herself was unsure herself on how to feel about the whole thing. Then again, since when was she sure of anything? Trying to suppress those thoughts, she took an extremely long drink before letting out a gasp.

Ahh… Oi Callie. If ye can turn into a dragon ‘n stuff, why did you just watch me waste my arrows on that big brute rather than frying ‘im yerself?” she asked, the thought just coming into her head. And she did not want to dwell on her own mortality or... the battles in general. The Satyr continued drinking her wine, just watching what was going on. She took out her quiver and started counting her arrows. She had to over and over. First there was ten, then there was eight then there was twelve. Then there was a ten again. Could these arrows not move or disappear when she was trying to count them?
Hanarei Hanarei Noble Scion Noble Scion Fable Fable Tarmagon Tarmagon Reinhardt Reinhardt Birdsie Birdsie
 
Callandar "Callie" Stormbringer
Treasure. Treasure!

The Marquis kept talking about something to do with battle planning and, beside her, Callie's new found companions chattered amongst themselves. All Callie could think about, though, was the prospect of all those gold coins. Gold coins to tumble through her fingers. For her to touch, hold, rub up against. Treasure. Treasure!

Blinking, the white-haired woman with golden eyes at last realized she'd been addressed. Several times. Annoyed, she frowned and dragged up the memory that her nimble mind captured, even when she hadn't been paying that much attention. Then those golden eyes glared more fiercely at the enchanted ring the Marquis had laid claim to. "Of course my ancestors were dragons. I am a dragon. Or I will be again, once I wrench my body back from that blasted Turenval's possession." The ring's revelation of being the prison of an Archdevil does little to soften her towards it. "I've already had one body stolen through infernal wizardry, you must be out of your mind if you think I'm offering this one to be your vessel."

Hermonine's laughter at her drew little more than a withering look of scorn.

The clumsy girl's babble demonstrated a surprising amount of thought. Not especially clear thought but that the warrior tried suggested she was more than Callie had thought she was. Not that she'd thought much to begin with. Worth reappraisal? Perhaps. If they all lived through the next hour or so.

The elf once more demonstrated an excellence of thought, making keen observations that she found herself nodding along to. Of course, that also meant he was the last one any of them should trust with the ring; he could actually use it with some possibility of not being destroyed in the process and such outcomes rarely boded well for the competition. Still, his avowed disinterest in having anything to do with devils was a mild comfort. If it was sincerely meant. Of course, a man good enough to see through the lies of devils could possibly weave lies of his own...

At Verxi's comment about her lack of pants, Callie automatically said "My name is Callandar but you may call me Callie. Easier for you humans to remember, it evidently sounds more feminine than my true name does to your ears, and if it's a diminutive, at least it's apt given my fallen status." She glanced down at the thin shirt that did little to conceal her bosom, or the panties she wore, slightly surprised she'd remembered to wear them at all. Then the white-haired woman waved a dismissive hand. "We have far more important things to deal with than clothes. Though if someone happens to have an extra robe, human skin doesn't keep out the cold as well as scales do." Not that she needed to say so, given the plainly noticeable bumps in that thin shirt.

Scarlet's idea at least was worth thinking about. Speaking slowly, Callie said "I could animate any body lying around. We could put the commander's armor on it. It's possible I could speak through the corpse, though it will take all my concentration and I don't know that I'll have a lot of range; I've never tried before. It might be easier if I had someone willing to be the corpse's 'mouthpiece' so to speak, to do the actual talking while I concentrate on sustaining the spell."

The Kitsune's observation struck a pain in Callie's heart and she didn't hide the wince it evoked. "If the lot of you could help me regain my old form, I would quite cheerfully eat this army and any other army you'd like me to eat."
 
Mephistopheles

Hearing their violent reactions to his very existence, Mephistopheles didn't know how to rebuke. He realized that attempting cooperation would be fruitless and seemed to sigh resignedly.

"Honestly... I don't know what came over me. What was I was expecting?" Mephistopheles asked with a deep apathy in his voice. "I thought going up-front would score me some points, but apparently not... Agh! I wish I could hit myself in the head! If my master saw me in this sorry state... This is inexcusable for an Archduke!"

As if being done with moping, Mephistopheles rebuked Scarlet's words with, "I am a Devil, and I have loyalty to the cause that our society represents. To say such things about me, like 'cursed beyond belief,' is completely uncalled for! Have I lied to and hurt mortals before? Yes. And what of it? Can you tell me with all honesty that you are any different? That you have the moral high ground? Oh, please, if you had my power, you'd already be trying to conquer some kingdom like that retarded lich."

"I just want to get my essence back and go back to Baator. My soldiers might get worried about my disappearance if I'm gone for too long; it'll take them some time to realize why I'm gone, and once they do, there'll be a cosmic disaster as they all kill each other to fill the power gap. This will attract people from other circles who also want to get in on the fun, and then it'll attract a bunch of ghoulish psychopaths and serial killers who get off to stabbing each other with glorified kitchen knives to tickle their willies. Of course, since Baator will be too busy fighting itself, the Demons will attack the universe again. Not my problem, though. It's you mortals that tend to die en masse when that happens."

"Anyway, since none of you are interested in my help, I'll go into sleep mode. If any of you find a need for occult knowledge, want to learn how to whistle, or desire to know how to perform tax fraud and sell Ruin-delver insurance without actuarial tables, you know where to find me."

With that, the blue light of the ring went dark.

Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt
Couldn't resist the temptation of posting again. In any case, Hanarei is next, then Tarmagon, Noble, and Reinhardt.
 
Lumu Muna
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The passage of time seemed endless as the gentle blue glow of the crystal seemed to melt Lumu's mind into a strange trance. The world itself seemed to slow as the moth's perception of time itself dulled, the captivation of such glorious incandescent beauty causing her pupils to widen in star-struck awe for what felt like a millennia, but in reality was less that a minute, broken only by the strange thought that someone was talking to her.

Her mind focused from its dazed state to realise that what she had been looking at from underneath her neck-fluff was a person, and they appeared to be saying things, but they seemed to be strangely quiet, making it difficult to even Lumu to hear the tiny girl that was somehow sitting cross-legged inside her pretty glowing stone. Lumu Muna, then proceeded to continue on with her staring, with a strange, new level of fascination, a little bit higher than before


Julie Tarkus
wisp girl.jpg
"HEY, HEY, I NEED CHARGING YOU IDIOT, STOP STARING PLEASE, STORE A SPELL BEFORE I RUN OUT OF ENERGY, IT'S HAPPENED BEFORE AND ITS NOT A PLEASANT SENSATION." Julie screamed at the top of her endlessly full lungs, yet to her cries for aid, the strangely adorable moth-girl that had stored her inside didn't seem to be paying attention.

The lack of energy seemed to be effecting how loud she could be, so she merely continued on yelling, to little avail. "ARE YOU HIGH YOU LITTLE MORON, GET HELP, WHERE EVEN AM I?! I suppose its warm at least.. BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT!!" the crystal-bound girl yelled and yelled, slowly increasing in her use of obscenities until she simply, inevitably, flickered out.

She was not going to be happy when she came back.​
 
Mephistopheles / Marquis Black / Verxi

The ring came back to life as if making a 180° turn following his previous statement.

The ring glowed with perceivable vigor, emitting a low wind chime sound as it transferred power into the crystal through a barely perceivable tether in the air. Around eighty percent of his current mana, equivalent to a low-level spell. "There. If you want to thank me, just don't die."

"Now, since I'm pretty much out of mana, I'll go into hibernation again. Wake me up when you're all lying disemboweled on the floor and Turenval's cronies are about to retake me to his treasury for fine-tuning."

Mephistopheles shut down once again.

A young soldier came up to Black. "Sir, they're about to break through the castle portcullis! The town is overrun."

The Marquis stared indolently, not responding for several seconds. "We have no choice, but to evacuate. Go and gather the civilians, then use the secret passage," he said, then turned to the adventurers. "All of us will stay here and stave off the horde."

The gates of the castle began to be struck and hammered repeatedly from the other side.

"Aunran," the Marquis snapped, folding Verraketh's finger in his glove and hiding it in a bag at his side.

"Yes!?"

"Do you have any mana left?"

"Little to none, Sir Black."

"Pity." He soured intensively. "Then evacuate with the rest, I wish you good luck."

Aunran nodded and shook hands with the Marquis. "Don't get yourself killed," he said quietly. The two kept up eye contact for a moment, before letting go.

The Marquis drew his red sword from its scabbard, turned it in his hand to the other side, and handed it to Aunran. "In case I do, give this to William," he commanded.

Aunran hesitantly accepted it, looked at the Marquis for one long moment, then nodded and fled.

Marquis Black pointed at one of the guards, who saluted instantly and accepted the command, "You! Take Verraketh's corpse away from here! Store it in the basement for now, I don't want any necromancers raising it."

Marquis Black accepted a spare blade from one of the guards, then pulled down the visor of his helmet over his face. "Let's do this."

The gate broke down, planks and wooden dust flying everywhere. Shambling hordes of armed skeleton infantry with zombies mixed in walked through; mere cannon fodder intended to distract the enemy. Shortly following was a pair of necromancers in black robes, both clearly novices or initiates, their skin not yet pale.

Far behind them, providing support from behind, was an archmage and presumably the leader of this squadron, with a large staff, beard, and clearly well-aged. He was flanked by a team of archers, who already had their arrows prepared to fire at anyone who engaged the infantry.

It was a well-coordinated attack.

Marquis Black engaged the nearest pair of skeletons, wiping them away from the face of the earth in one resolute swing. He walked through a gap in the enemy advance, charging the novice necromancers like a berserker.

Enemy arrows hit him, snapping like twigs when they impacted his armor. He closed in, moved his sword behind the rest of his body, and then came to a pause, unleashing the full force of his charge in one, deadly swing, and beheading one of the necromancers.

Taking vengeance, the one beside him cast Magic Missile. Five darts of magical energy hit the Marquis' shoulderplate, causing him to recoil back and be surrounded by skeletons, which he quickly started dispatching.

Verxi channeled Ki into his arms and got to work. Skeletons were supposed to be weak against blunt damage, so this should be easy. He pummeled a few of the undead, turning their bones into dust and fissioning the magical bonds that held their bones together.

He ran at the second necromancer, seeing the archers were yet to nock more arrows. He smashed his fist into the necromancer's face, possibly breaking his jaw, and sending him flying back. A strong enough hit to stun him for a bit, but not good enough to kill.

Seeing the archers aiming at him, Verxi hopped back behind a zombie and wrapped his arm around its neck, using the shambling freak as a literal meatshield. A dozen arrows dug into its body, slaying it and protecting Verxi at the same time.

Someone else would have to finish off the other necromancer.
Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt
 
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Inventory
-
Weapons/Armor
  • Leather Armor
  • Cloak
  • Bow
  • Quiver
  • Variety of Arrows
  • Two Swords (Dual Wield)
Items
  • "Lucky" Dice
  • Lucky Coin
  • Thieves' Tools
  • Small Bag
Companionship
-

Crisis

Hostile

Negative
  • Verxi (-8)
  • Mephistopheles (-5)
  • Ayasha (-1)

Neutral (Base 0)
  • Hermy (0)
  • Kasumi (0)
  • Lumu (+5)
  • Kyndryr (+15)
  • Callie (+16)

Warm

Friendly


[/div][/div][div class=flex][div class=text][div class=header]Scarlet[/div]
[div class=tags]Location: Fort? | Doing: Talking. | Interaction: Birdsie Birdsie | Nearby/Mentioned: [/div]
Scarlet sighed. Of course no one wanted to blow up a city! But when shit was going down hill fast sometimes you had to make that kind of decision! She pinched the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache coming on from all this bullshit and the ring throwing a fit about being ignored.

This whole thing was a shit show and with the latest events of the town being overrun and evacuation the only option on the table, leaving their groups to fend off an army... well Scarlet decided she'd rather do something completely stupid than just join in this stupid suicide mission. She had eyed Black has he put the ring away into the bag. She moved past him as though to check the situation with her own eyes and at the same time loosened that little purse and relived Black of the ring.

She smoothly slid her hand into the bag and pulled the ring out. "I know you can hear me, a devil would never sleep. The only deal I am offering you is this, help me destroy this left over army with my mana and you don't fall back into the undead general's grasp again. You wouldn't want to be stuck with him or anyone else from that miserable army, would you? You aren't given permission to possess me or anything outside of this current agreement. This is a mutual agreement of survival because let's face it, you get back on the undead's side, what do you think the odds of getting what you want with them would be?"

"Do we have a deal? Or do I find some nice mimic to feed you to?"
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Mephistopheles / Marquis Black / Verxi

"Hmm." Mephistopheles quietly evaluated her, then metaphysically looked at the battlefield. Even though he didn't have a body - some mystical force was present, conveying his feelings - an aura. Right now, there was a feeling of somber thoughtfulness.

"Your prana is hardly plentiful, but I'll figure something out," Mephistopheles boasted. "Very well, I, Mephistopheles, accept the terms of your contract. The pact is sealed."

Suddenly, Scarlet felt her soul's gears turn at impossible speed, spitting mana into the ring through some mystical bond.

"Show me the path to victory."
【Solution. Grand Trickster is operating at less than 0.0001% standard power. Two options available, with the following odds of victory: [100%], [100%].】
A moment passed, Mephistopheles seemingly shocked.
【Execute choice with biggest odds of victory?】
"Yes." He turned confident.
【ERROR. Divine essence unavailable. Currently, Wishgranting of the God of Magic portfolio is locked away. Attempting to solve.... No solution.】
And then he became angry. "What the fuck do you mean 'error?' You useless low-end processor! If I could, I'd rend you into magical energy right now!" He emitted a ghastly shriek, then said, "Fine, I'll just do it myself. Adhuc sub iudice lis est, I guess."

The ring floated out of Scarlet's hand and its blue light spread, creating a spectral finger, followed by a left hand, then a forearm, an arm, and a shoulder. A sword appeared in the hand, which grasped it tightly, just as a chest, neck, and head, appeared, followed by the rest of the body. It was a blank avatar of ghostly, pale blue color.

As a finishing touch, Mephistopheles added a blue cape with his coat of arms: a circle split, with a grinning face with horns wearing a gladiatorial helmet on the left side; and a perfect octagram on the other side, drawn out in the appearance of a star with a symbol inside of that could be interpreted as either a winding road or a strange flame.

The skeletons and zombies stopped, at the command of the alerted mages, who sensed a threat in the sudden and suspicious appearance of a creature of this sort. Mephistopheles walked forward confidently and...

Fell over to the side like a drunkard, with a thud.

"I forgot how to walk. Or I forgot to simulate body balance. Either of those things," he bleated with some distress.

"Charge!" the enemy mage ordered, as skeletons surrounded Mephistopheles' spectral body and attacked him, their swords passing through and doing little damage except scraping off a tiny minute little imperceptible speck of energy with each swing.

"Oh, wow," he exclaimed sardonically. Mephistopheles supported his torso with his hands and looked at the enemy archmage. "So much lethal force, this hits harder than my dad's belt, man!"

With their exercise in futility finished, the undead stopped attacking. The mage scowled. "Kill him! Attack, destroy! Why aren't you attacking, you stupid undead?"

Mephistopheles brushed off some spectral dust, then said, "Uuuh, yeah, see, here's the thing: I'm not retarded? So, I kind of tricked you. And you can stop yelling petulant commands like an angry old man with schizophrenia in a restaurant, these are mine now. You got scammed, sucker."

"W-what?"

"Yeah, proximity's a bitch, huh? It's so much easier to take control of undead when you're standing next to them instead of fifty meters away. Go forth, my pretties! Fly and shit in their dinner!"

The skeletons and zombies rushed forward. The terrified archers fired their arrows at the swarm in utter terror, then abandoned their armaments and began to run the other way, followed shortly by the necromancer who high-tailed it as fast as he could, while screaming.

Only the archmage remained, channeling energy. A ball of green soulfire spread in his hand, slowly reaching towards critical mass. It was some kind of enhanced fireball. He aimed at the swarm of zombies and prepared to fire.

The result...

"Arcane Bullet." Mephistopheles pointed a finger-gun at the mage and shot out a blue round object, which pierced the archmage's forearm in the critical second and sent his spell flying at the archers behind him. Every single one was turned into a smoldering pile of carpetsweepings.

Mephistopheles was overtaken by glee and began to laugh like a madman, speaking all the while, "Holy fuck! Did you see that? I really, really didn't plan for that! You took out your own archers!"

Mephistopheles began to walk in the direction of the shocked archmage, the undead swarm parting into two to let him pass. Mephistopheles resummoned the spectral sword into his hand, moved his arm back in preparation for a swing, and then his body fizzled out and the ring fell to the ground.

"Awh, shit. I ran out of mana, just when we were getting to the good part."

"Hah... hahahahha-HA HA HA HA HA!" The archmage began to laugh, taking the ring in his hand, only to have his skin wither in seconds. "What in the?"

He screamed and tried to throw the ring away, but it adhered to his hand as if glued. "Pranked. I have some mana left, and I just cast Drain Touch on you. Human mana potions are the best kind of mana potions!"

In seconds, the archmage was a withered husk, lying on the floor, and Mephistopheles once again stood in a blue, spectral body.

"Okay," he said, turning to Scarlet and the rest of the shocked adventurers. "I'm just gonna engulf their mages. I need more energy to kill the enemy army... Well, not really, but if you want it done in a situationally valuable timespan, then I do."

At this point, Marquis Black noticed his knapsack was missing. He turned to Scarlet, scowling in fury. He yelled at her, "What did you do? Weren't you the one saying not to rely on a devil's help?! Can we trust this fiend?"

Mephistopheles seemed to have either not heard or ignored the remark, as he was too busy animating the archmage as a high-level undead, then questioning it to discover where its buddies were.

The Marquis walked up to her, hesitating in the thought of whether or not to slap her. "I'm..." He seemed to regain control of his anger, his face becoming coldly aggressive. In a calm voice, he offered, "We'll see how this turns out. If badly, don't expect any payment. If he does as promised, I'll consider paying at all."

In the background, Mephistopheles crouched down and picked up a nearby stick, beginning to scribble some circle in the ground.

It seemed they were safe... for now.

Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt

Screw the posting order: I want all of you to post within the next weekend or less, but honestly, I'm tired of making sure you all do that, since you won't do it anyway. So here's some compelling food for thought instead:

This is, again, very rough math, but since September we've had more or less 11 posting rounds, and I count a posting round as a situation where all active RP members have posted once, including me, then started over from the first poster. Also, take into account things were slightly faster when the RP started and got slower as it progressed, and keeps getting slower.

Anyway, that's 11 posting rounds in 57 days, or 0.19 posting rounds per day.

Assuming this trend keeps up (and I'm certain it'll get worse, seeing the loss of average activity per week,) we'll be dealing with, more or less 68 posting rounds per year. Or around 22 pages of posts per year.

Now, look at where we are. Page 4, around the 80% mark completion of the Tutorial Chapter. So let's make a favorable bet and assume a single Chapter is five pages, even though I totally intended for future chapters to be way longer and more complex. That means we'll have four to five Chapters of plot progression per year, in favorable conditions.

The writers and animators of Steven Universe are faster than us.

Four Chapters is pathetic. Do you think you can have a meaningful character arc in that time? Maybe a half-assed one - much like the ones you see in Saturday night episodic cartoon shows where the mentally impaired main character learns a moral lesson about friendship or "sharing is caring" and forgets it by the next episode - sure.

In addition, the emotional connection to the characters, as well as memory of their exploits won't carry over. This is why some people like binge-watching TV shows instead of watching it one episode per week; if you go from one episode to the other instantly, you have a constant emotional investment and remember what happened last time freshly. If you do it after a month, you'll need a memory refresher, hence why some shows picked up the habit of, "Previously On The Walking Dead."

Compare that to a D&D group that only uses (technically speaking) one-liners except for the DM who is responsible for describing situations and places, and they can finish one such chapter comparable to ours in 1-2 hours average, showing an improvement in progression speed that is so many orders of magnitude higher that it's like comparing a mutated, giant mammoth to a newborn ant larva.

Of course, we're not a D&D group, so that logic is irrelevant. Just food for thought.

Okay, so, you say: "But Birbsie, what if it goes on slowly? Four chapters is better than none!"

To that I say, fuck your chapters and fuck your slowness. Do you really want to spend four to five years beating Turenval? Assuming this doesn't die earlier than that and the effort doesn't go in vain.

Let me say it again: This RP is literally not going to go anywhere unless you people increase your activity. Or unless I really fucked up my math in a grandiose display of stupidity.

Lastly, I'll conclude it with this: A one-liner is something. It's better than nothing, in any case. You have to get invested, or tell me you can't and would like to drop out, okay?

If someone wants to argue this math, go to OOC with it, or on Discord. I'm posting it here to make sure everyone sees it.

I digress.

By the way, if anyone's interested in who Mephistopheles was yelling at, highlight the empty space above his dialogue with your mouse.
 
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Callandar "Callie" Stormbringer
The obliteration of the opposing army is spectacular to watch and Callie more or less watches with rapt fascination at the sheer spectacle and slaughter of it all. Every dragon appreciates a good rampage and the Archdevil was an adequate rampager, if far too talkative.

Given the Devil's efficacy, Callie shrugs and steps up to the spectral figure before offering her hand out. "You're welcome to all the mana I have available, on three conditions. (1) This deal has the same terms Scarlet's deal with you does, as this isn't a separate deal so much as it's an addendum to hers. (2) If there's any risks, they go to her, not me. And (3) Clean the satyr, I don't care how you do it but I don't want to ever smell her again."
 
Hermione "Hermy" Puckette
andi_concept_sketches_by_crescentvenus-d5io4bj.jpg

Hermione was mostly in her own thoughts while it all happened, only coming out of it when people began to speak. She did not talk at first, but rather listened. Or as much as she could, everything sounded like it was underwater. She only really came to when she heard Callie speaking, and calling her “the Satyr” as if she was not there. She did not exactly care for what she said, but that really bothered her.

The satyr, the satyr, make sure you wash the satyr…” she mimicked in a mocking tone akin to Callie’s before shaking her shaggy head, “Y’could have the decency to at very least call me by my name, ya big sack of scales. It’s Hermione! Or Hermy! Or... Something with a H, but it's not 'Satyr'!” she grumbled afterwards, glaring at the others (or trying to, she couldnt really tell where she was looking right now) “All of ya.” she added before taking another sip, trying to calm herself down. She had been noticing this for a while now, but did not bring it up until now.

eínai tóso kaká óso ta xotiká, aftó pou perímena…” she grumbled to herself. Looking at them all, she could not help but feel like the black sheep. She looked at the other females that were here. Ayasha, Scarlet, Callie- they were all beautiful, and Hermy was not ashamed to think that, it was obvious. And she knew that Ayasha knew this herself. Lumu was pretty too but in a sweet and endearing way. Hermione kept silent as she thought. She hated her hooves, hocks, fur, tail, horns and especially these stupid big ears that would routinely slap her in the face. Even that one gold earring did not help. Why did she have to be born as this kind of.... well, beast. That was the only way she could imagine herself. Wanting to distract herself, she turned to Mephistopheles as he mentioned something about paying, she rolled her eyes. “Just gimme a keg of… I dunno- anything with ethanol and that’d do it.” she said as she scratched one of her legs with a hoof. Damn itch… couldn’t she just go back to the tavern? Surely there were some dwarves she could swindle out of their gold or something. She’d rather be doing that than… whatever the hell was going on here.
Birdsie Birdsie Epiphany Epiphany
 
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Callandar "Callie" Stormbringer
Slowly, the white-haired woman with golden eyes turns to peer at Hermonie. "You ask me to have the decency to call you by name when, in the very same breath, you call me a big sack of scales?" The dragon in human form glares for a moment, then suddenly breaks into a smile. "You amuse me. Very well." Callie glances back at the spectral form and says "For your sake and mine, please ensure she smells forever more as pleasing as a pile of gold." Pausing, the dragon hastily adds "Or a field of wildflowers or whatever people with human noses enjoy smelling."
 
Hermione "Hermy" Puckette
andi_concept_sketches_by_crescentvenus-d5io4bj.jpg

"Oh okay, so it's not alright when I do it. Good to know, Callandar Stormbringer." Hermione could not tell for the life of her if Callie was just humoring her or not. When Callie mentioned again about her needing bathed, Hermy could only let out a grunt of annoyance. What was everyone's need to keep pointing it out? She was well aware. And, frankly she did want to do something about it, but it involved water. Something Hermione was passionately against. Not for reasons,she was going to tell this snooty dragon, that was for sure. "Nono, make me smell like gold. That's the only way you'd get laid anyway." she added, taking in more wine. Couldn't she just pass out already she was already pretty much sitting on the floor right now for the love of Pan!​
 
Faust & Xylzrilyn Windfallow
-> The Raven's Arcana, coming to you from the village in the next chapter.

Another long day...

The masked shopkeeper continued to stare lifelessly into the pages of a grimoire he appeared to be reading, rhythmically turning the timeworn pages carefully, each page turned at flawlessly timed intervals. The aroma of pancakes drenched in syrup still lingered between the walls of the store, which only irritated, his annoyance only overshadowed by an extreme boredom. The shop had been silent for almost a week now. Coming to a realization, Faust's eyes that were hidden beneath the silver-mask perked up from his book. It was too silent. The lich suddenly dropped from his chair, and not a second later as a scythe blade came sweeping across, aimed at where his neck would have been.

"Schiesse." Faust cursed aloud in some unintelligible language, as he got dust over his precious book.

"Fuck. You dodged it."

Faust lifted himself off the floor, carefully dusting his book. He raised his head to face the perpetrator of the attack. He moved his head up and down as he inspected the blonde woman in a butler uniform. Then, his bones quaked and shivered out of fear and horror at the thought of the thing that stood before him being a woman. Xylzrilyn raised their scythe and rested it against their shoulder, staring at Faust with an empty expression.

"Why would you aim for the body when a lich is sustained by the magic of a phylactery that is animating the body?"

"So I can slaughter you over and over without having to wait three days."

Faust shook his head, brandishing his book and striking the homunculus across the head using the spine of the book. Then, he threw a punch toward Xylzrilyn, which connected, sending them off the ground. They crashed into the item-shelf. It shook, and a vial began to slip and fell into a straight course toward the floor.

"Oh fuck..."

The lich cursed as the expensive vial of unidentifiable liquid began falling. At that moment, the Xylzrilyn's butler instincts kicked in, as they sprung off from their back and landed just in time to catch the falling vial in his left hand. They sighed, placing it back onto the shelf where it belonged, and began to rearrange everything back to where they should be. Faust gave no reaction, as he fell back into his chair.

"You haven't had a customer in ages. Isn't it time to find another job?"

"Nope."

"Humans are so stubborn."

"Don't be like that. There's gonna be tons of morons who scream about justice and defeating Adrucil. Plus I'm expecting some 'adventurers' soon, somebody's going to have to deal with this apiana problem."

"Why don't you deal with it?"

"I can't be fucked."

"You are one concerning fucker."

"Hmm?"

"It's not like I care, ok?! You fucking *******"

"Language..."

"Fuck you!"

Faust let out small 'pshht' as he returned his full attention to his book. Meanwhile, Xylzrilyn extended out one of their long tentacle-like eyestalks and began to tidy up the shop using their telekinesis.

"A storm is coming. Turneval, huh? He who seeks power. The Prince of Bones. How nostalgic."

"Nostalgic?"

"Nothing. I expect these adventurers very soon now. I wonder if I see any familiar faces?''

"Sometimes, I cannot understand what the fuck you are saying at all..."
 
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END OF PROLOGUE
Mephistopheles / Marquis Black

The devil was squatting down, one hand over his knees, the other one holding a stick. He was drawing a circle in the ground and tracing arcane shapes in it. When the magic circle was done, he put his hand over it and put the slightest bit of energy into it, making the leyline recognize it as a ritual.

At that point, Callandar approached him and offered him more mana if he followed a set of conditions.

"I accept the terms."

They shook on it, and Callie would feel some force tug at her soul, sucking the vast reservoir of energy dry like a voracious wraith.

"That's what I'm talking about! This is plenty enough to destroy this army and then some more."

Disregarding Hermy's protests, he moved his hand in her direction, causing the satyr to smell like delightful flowers on one half of her body and pungently like gold on the other. That said, seeing how perspiration worked, this fragrance wouldn't last for another hour.

"Now that that's done," he said, turning back to the ritual. Mephistopheles waved his hand and a hologram appeared above the magic circle he drew, showing him the face of an archmage giving out commands.

He pointed his finger to the sky and shot out an arcane bullet identical to the one before. It ran across the sky, reached the top height, then fell down gaining fearsome velocity. The scrying ritual showed the archmage's head be punctured by the shot.

He swiped his free hand right, showing him the image of another archmage. He adjusted his left, pointing had a little forward and shot out another bullet.

Needless to say, Mephistopheles repeated this exercise twelve times, until there were no more enemy mages in town. Their undead were running wild, not recognizing between foe or ally, along with some leftover living soldiers.

Mephistopheles had his skeletons step forward. "Corpse Bomb, Mass," he incanted. "Skeletons, go and attack undead not under my control by throwing your ribs at them. Zombies, cling to the mortal warriors and kill them."

The undead marched on, while Mephistopheles' blue body flickered out, leaving behind a ring which ascended into the sky like a blue star. It broke a castle window, hit a chimney shaft, went all the way down to the basement, then materialized as a spectre again.

He held his palm over Verraketh's forehead and disintegrated the body, just in time to run out of energy, and running only on fumes. Deciding to save mana, he hid the spectral body into the ring and went back into the castle foyer, returning into its middle and floating there.

"The city will be cleansed in roughly nine minutes without intervention. The skeletons will use their body parts as bombs to clean out the other undead at a satisfying cost-to-effect ratio, and the zombies will attack helpless mortal warriors who do not have the right spellwork nor aptitude to dispatch them skillfully."

Marquis Black threw a bag over the ring, tying it up with a string before Mephistopheles could react properly. Soon thereafter, a disappointed voice came from within, saying, "Khe!? Awh, really? That's not very cash money of you - I saved the town!"

"Because she paid you," the Marquis asserted, nocking his head in Scarlet's general direction. Then he looked at Callie. "And so did she."

"No, actually, it's because I have burning murder-boner for Turenval, his cronies, and anyone affiliated with him," Mephistopheles scoffed, then followed up with a faux offended sarcastic question, "How dare you molest my ability to hate people?"

The Marquis seemed to have finally snapped; the straw that broke the camel's back. "Eat shit and die!"

"Yikes," the devil replied with revulsion. "And to think this whole debacle would've been avoided if you gave me a stick and some sand."

"All you'll get is fire and brimstone!"

Seemingly unbothered, the ring emitted a shrugging sensation to the minds of everyone nearby. "I already get a lot of that; I need to divvy up my diet a bit."

The Marquis sighed at that and gave up, flattening his shoulders down. He threw the bag at Scarlet, seemingly not caring anymore. "Follow me, everyone. We'll give out the payments and figure out what comes next."

Scarlet could feel Mephistopheles looking at her, from beyond the bag, metaphysically. "I feel this is the beginning of a long and treasured friendship."

*
Next time, on the Guild of Heroes...

Mephistopheles groaned. "I fucking hate all of you."

The party was running away from a group of humanoid bees with spears through a forest next to a mountain chain.

Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt
 
Chapter 2: Of Beehives & Country Roads
The Marquis paid double rates to each member of the team, sans Julie and Mephistopheles, at which Mephistopheles scoffed with 'ahem-racistmarquis-ahem,' because of course he did.

Following that, Mephistopheles and Julie were placed in the middle of the table, and told to explain how they got into Verraketh's possession.

For Julie, she used to be an adventurer, but fell into a trap and became bound in a crystal. She changed hands many times until Turenval bought her one day and then gifted her away to his servant, Verraketh.

Mephistopheles came second. He was summoned one day, and instantly noticed the summoner was a lich trying to bind him. He tried to analyze the forcefield he was in and unravel it, but it had too much raw power and elements to beat it with his own spellwork, which rightfully shocked the God of Magic, and Turenval wouldn't listen to any counter-offers. Mephistopheles stored his memory in a safe pocket mind, so when Turenval wiped it, Mephistopheles was still set to activate after the user's ring was 'vulnerable.'

That happened after Verraketh was beaten. Mephistopheles essentially rebooted inside the ring and woke up just in time to protest being handed over to someone else.

Mephistopheles testified that Turenval was strong enough to bind him without having the essence of a God, so they had not a shred of a chance to beat him now. Unless...

"See, when I was in my prime, I knew with certainty that I was bound to lose one day. Something my master taught me is that nothing lasts forever, and this applies to status and wealth, too," Mephistopheles spoke from experience. "So, knowing some asshole would bind me and devour my power, I made a failsafe for scamming him from beyond the grave. I made a bunch of relics, but three among them, if put together, will wrest my divine essence into themselves. Or they can destroy it remotely if taking it back's not an option."

"Let me be perfectly clear. I've made peace with losing to that bastard, so I don't care about getting my power back. I just want some good old-fashioned revenge."

"The relics I speak of are the Draconium Rope, the Staff of Elemental Havoc, and the Book of Darned Awful Things. I know the first one is somewhere in Urgash, but we'll have to ask my head priestess about the specifics. The second one was looted by a king of fire elementals some odd two centuries ago. The last one... I honestly have no idea, but if you give me time, I can find it."

"Before any of that," Marquis Black interjected. "I have a job for any of you who are still interested. I'll need a message delivered to General Audron, near the front lines. Do this for me, and he'll pay you handsomely for helping this devil retrieve his artifacts."

"I beg your pardon?" Mephistopheles paused for a beat, taken aback. "So, you suddenly trust me?"

"Fuck no," he scoffed. "I have no better option to take. You can go choke on sulfur."

"And you, sir, please: Deactivate your defenses and go establish intimate relations with a cactus."

Already used to the verbal sparring, the Marquis digressed. "Anyway, I'd like all of you to collect the relics and bring them together. Worst case scenario, we have another maniac trying to destroy the world. Best case scenario, one maniac kills another."

"Over a trail of bodies if necessary," Mephistopheles made an addition, not disputing the maniac bit.

And so, the party, shrinking in size as some members denied, went off on an adventure.

*
CHAPTER 2
Of Beehives & Country Roads

Three days have passed.

The road to the front lines was long, though occasionally, a supply caravan would pass by them and give them a lift. The party was practically halfway to Xhorhas, the city where General Audron currently met with the rest of the generals, preparing for offensive action.

They were passing through a small forest, south of Xhorhas. The verdant-colored tree leaves covered their path in shadow, albeit allowing in enough sun to see well through them. In addition, the path, being a supply line, was covered in cobblestone, and had railways at the sides, as well as inns.

However, the last inn was long ago, and currently it was sunset.

Right now, on foot, the party was tired and hungry.

Mephistopheles blinked on. "Ah, I'm sensing something.... There's a village ahead of us! An unexpected surprise, but a welcome one for sure."

Going around the road, somewhat to the right, the party walked for around sixty meters and arrived near a wooden palisade with a gate, where they were stopped by a pair of guards in chainmail, with pikes.

"Oi, hold there. Show us your documentation or skedaddle." The guard on the lef theld out his hand.

"Pardon?" Mephistopheles asked.

The guards seemed confused, not capable of pinpointing where the noise came from. It was a simple trick, called presence concealment. Not as much invisbility, as the magic to allow one to be ignored and overlooked more easily. Magical stealth.

"The northern territories are under close surveillance," the second guard explained anyway, his voice gruffer than his partner's. "Traffic control is normal around these parts, if you don't have documentation, go back where you came from."

"And by whose authority is that?"

"General Audron's."

"Aw, shucks."

Fable Fable Rumble Fish Rumble Fish Hanarei Hanarei Tarmagon Tarmagon Epiphany Epiphany Noble Scion Noble Scion Reinhardt Reinhardt LostHaven LostHaven

Remember: Post small, post often.
 
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