Vaudivolt
Rusty from the Rain
This non-canon Roleplay is part of the Isekai Hell setting, and meant for the Isekai Hell November 2023 Community Event. More information regarding the world and its denizens can be found [here].
Gobblin Forktress
Boom!-boom!-boom!-da-da-da-Boom! The sound of heavy drums struck to a festive beat reaches your ears, but your sight registers only darkness. Then, you notice a faint light seeping through what seems to be burlap fabric. Yet, before you realize something blinded you, that 'something' is hastily pulled away. Taken by small, large-eared creatures as they dart away.
The pace of the drums slows while you realize you are standing on the outer court of a wooden fortress – surrounded by pointed walls and strange, festive decorations. You begin to notice many eyes are carefully observing you. Hidden behind walls and poles, as well as standing atop the rooftops and leaning over balconies, are dozens of those large-eared half-pints wielding forked spears. They keep their red eyes trained on you as they strike their forked spears to the beat of the drums.
“TURKEYS!!” A rough voice suddenly booms from up high. The powerful sound distracts you from your surroundings, practically forcing you to notice a large Orc leaning over the highest balcony of the tallest building. The creature is wearing a heavy leather apron held up by metal chains, and he carefully adjusts the red-stained chef's hat on his head. “You are turkeys! We hold human Autumn Festival in your honor! Chieftain Orchef welcome you! As tradition, Gobblins will feast on your fle--!”
The chieftain halts his booming speech as one of the Gobblins at his side addresses him. The smaller creature does not have the loud voice necessary to be overheard. But, soon after, the chieftain suddenly bursts out. “WHAT?!” Then, he hastily flips through a book too small for his hands. “TURKEYS!” He calls out, flinging the book back over his shoulder before leaning over the balcony. “As tradition, we honor human Autumn Festival by pardoning you!!”
“Chieftain Orchef knows this! You, turkeys, now show you are worthy of pardoning! You will... urh-- you will--” Unsure of the 'pardoning process', the chieftain inspects his outer court. And soon, he fiercely points toward the ground. “GOBBLINS!! Cut a line in the ground, NOW!!”
Two creatures halt striking their forked spears and follow Orchef's instructions, using their weapons to dig a starting line in the dirt. Much to Orchef's delight. “You race for pardoning!” He booms, a wide grin surrounding his tusks, “One round of court and you will get pardoning! You fail, and Gobblin feast on your honor! START!!”
Beyond the starting line lay a stretch of dirt dotted with festively decorated but ultimately crude buildings. As per Gobblin standards, these buildings have a surplus of sharp and spiky edges, leading to painful results if not navigated carefully. Alternatively, if you could make your way up the rooftops, it appears to be a straight shot to the end of the first section.
While you consider this, Chieftain Orchef calls on his Gobblins again. “GOBBLINS, aim!” You look up, and on the higher balconies appear multiple mounted slings manned by at least three Gobblins each. “FIRE!” Orcheff booms and a large golden glob shoots from the first sling. It lands with a loud splat!, coating a section of the rooftops in what smells like mashed potatoes.
The dirt path between the buildings appears shielded from the onslaught of mashed potatoes but requires careful navigation to prevent getting skewered.
The rooftops are free from sharp edges and easier to navigate than the dirt path, but you must find a way past the constant bombardment of mashed potatoes.
Gobblin Forktress
Boom!-boom!-boom!-da-da-da-Boom! The sound of heavy drums struck to a festive beat reaches your ears, but your sight registers only darkness. Then, you notice a faint light seeping through what seems to be burlap fabric. Yet, before you realize something blinded you, that 'something' is hastily pulled away. Taken by small, large-eared creatures as they dart away.The pace of the drums slows while you realize you are standing on the outer court of a wooden fortress – surrounded by pointed walls and strange, festive decorations. You begin to notice many eyes are carefully observing you. Hidden behind walls and poles, as well as standing atop the rooftops and leaning over balconies, are dozens of those large-eared half-pints wielding forked spears. They keep their red eyes trained on you as they strike their forked spears to the beat of the drums.
“TURKEYS!!” A rough voice suddenly booms from up high. The powerful sound distracts you from your surroundings, practically forcing you to notice a large Orc leaning over the highest balcony of the tallest building. The creature is wearing a heavy leather apron held up by metal chains, and he carefully adjusts the red-stained chef's hat on his head. “You are turkeys! We hold human Autumn Festival in your honor! Chieftain Orchef welcome you! As tradition, Gobblins will feast on your fle--!”The chieftain halts his booming speech as one of the Gobblins at his side addresses him. The smaller creature does not have the loud voice necessary to be overheard. But, soon after, the chieftain suddenly bursts out. “WHAT?!” Then, he hastily flips through a book too small for his hands. “TURKEYS!” He calls out, flinging the book back over his shoulder before leaning over the balcony. “As tradition, we honor human Autumn Festival by pardoning you!!”
“Chieftain Orchef knows this! You, turkeys, now show you are worthy of pardoning! You will... urh-- you will--” Unsure of the 'pardoning process', the chieftain inspects his outer court. And soon, he fiercely points toward the ground. “GOBBLINS!! Cut a line in the ground, NOW!!”
Two creatures halt striking their forked spears and follow Orchef's instructions, using their weapons to dig a starting line in the dirt. Much to Orchef's delight. “You race for pardoning!” He booms, a wide grin surrounding his tusks, “One round of court and you will get pardoning! You fail, and Gobblin feast on your honor! START!!”
Beyond the starting line lay a stretch of dirt dotted with festively decorated but ultimately crude buildings. As per Gobblin standards, these buildings have a surplus of sharp and spiky edges, leading to painful results if not navigated carefully. Alternatively, if you could make your way up the rooftops, it appears to be a straight shot to the end of the first section.
While you consider this, Chieftain Orchef calls on his Gobblins again. “GOBBLINS, aim!” You look up, and on the higher balconies appear multiple mounted slings manned by at least three Gobblins each. “FIRE!” Orcheff booms and a large golden glob shoots from the first sling. It lands with a loud splat!, coating a section of the rooftops in what smells like mashed potatoes.
The dirt path between the buildings appears shielded from the onslaught of mashed potatoes but requires careful navigation to prevent getting skewered.
The rooftops are free from sharp edges and easier to navigate than the dirt path, but you must find a way past the constant bombardment of mashed potatoes.
ZELAPHANE
