Bay 12 Games Forum

   The Arteral manor was large and well-built in the Hadrian style. The stone walls were smooth and white with fresh plaster, marked under the eaves with a pleasing wave pattern of blue glass. It had a slowly slanting roof of corrugated ceramic shingles, separated from the rest of the Villas on the street by a wide courtyard, with walls that were topped with spiky, sharp, ornamental bronze railings.
   The courtyard itself was filled with pleasant looking and smelling shrubs of varying sizes, but none of the sparse, carefully groomed bushes surpass the height of the thick wall. A narrow path lies heading towards a centermost door, but a servant instead directs the three to the grey stones that winded their way though the garden to behind the house.

   A wide and short table with gilded edges sat in a pavilion, surrounded by four chaise lounges. The pavilion itself, made solidly out of some naturally or painted red wood, had curtains of almost see-through, soft cloth. On the table was a few dishes of fruits, lightly seared sweetmeats and bread with crusts of goldish-brown. Beside them was a few wine bottles, a pitcher of honey and a few vessels filled with spice.
   In a small platter, beside the wine, beside a lightly smoke firebrand, was a number of thin papers, and fine grey, lengthwise shredded, leaves of Rtun. The heady, aromatic smell of mint wafted from the large pile of herb, into the air of the pavilion.
   Fae was dressed simply in a grayish tunic and flared leggings that came down to after the knee, plated with bits of bronze and iron, looking more like armor than a pair of pants. He pushed himself to his feet, shifting slightly in the ankle high boots before smiling in a lazy way. A blond woman, who was lounging with him, gave a small bow and left with slow strides.
   “Greetings, fellow senators. Have a safe walk, I hope? I was hoping to take a light appetizer out here, and then move inside once were finished; to let the servants finish up in the dining room. ”

Fae closed his eyes and slouched back a little more, going silent, and seeming for all the world like he fell asleep. His dwarven guard roused him when the vote went around, and he abstained from voting, before resting back once more.

Abstain from voting.

Fil, are you asking for a benefit the other characters don't have?

Also, lost my post. I'll have to rewrite it due to the fact my workplace doesn't have Lazarus in the browser.

No I am not.

Firstly: All players may have  a few bodyguards, which basically amounts to +1 or +3 in health. I can't recall. They give +1 strength. Unless this rule was changed with time? I can start with a man who is basically the same as a bodyguard group, like you stared with Sahaain, if I'm not mistaken?

Secondly: Just 'cuz I'm not a dipshit who think I'm am invincible, does not mean I'm asking for something the other players don't have.

Edit: Pardon the typo's. I don't have no spellchecker

<3 Ghaz's video. Sheer, bloody awesome.

Also, I liked YAK2 better. But I'm biased, since I was apparently winning. Hell, never knew you could win Yak.

Talinth sighs, putting Karas over his shoulder and moving back to the figures, making sure the masked man is watching over the escape routes.
"Glad to meet you all, mages, priests or sorcerers, however you wish to be called. I took down your guardians and I am searching for answers. I wish to know if you have them."

Talinth interrogates the "mages" about the Plague and the disciple of Liodnya from the Cloven Horn he was sent to find, searching through their objects for useful items he can use himself and detaining the men if needed.

After gathering information either by their good will or after breaking some of their bones, Talinth takes Karas to be tended to somewhere in the city and leaves West to the highest tower, following the letter he was given (this was before Edgard's betrayal, due to time shenanigans).

((I’m gonna let Shoot handle this. Unless he wants me to.))

The man in the steel mask, after insuring the backdoor is well blocked by corpses and that Talinth is done with his interrogation, begins to search through whatever ingredients are laying around for things that induce a deep sleep. He may or many not drag one of the Cloven Horned mages over to help him discover what does what or to make him a potion that does that, provided Talinth allows it.

Also, guys, I know I'm a nobody, but could you at least pretend to see my actions? I was asking a guard for training weapon skill (before Richard got killed), and I also asked for a meeting with you Ardas.

Sorry man. I usually just do Cael's post, or posts where bias is called into question, so I tend to skim over other posts. Can you link me and I'll give it a whirl?

Also: I may not be allowed to do training posts, since I'm a temp-gm or something. When shoot gets on later today I'll bitch 'em out and tell him to roll 'em, deal?

Caellath
You stumble out of the icy embrace of the pod, falling to your knees as nausea overwhelms your senses. You heave, vomiting out purple bile, which splatters over the floor and slowly heads towards a drain in the floor. After a few, fruitless retches, you wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand. You push yourself to you feet and unholster your Minuteman. There’s silence and a number of empty cryo-pods. Father down the line you notice another man stumbling from a pod. And farther down than that is a man standing beside a door, watching with little to no interest.

Thatkid
You stifle a yawn and ready your Minuteman as two figures stumble out of the pods you’re guarding.  Both retch, but one recovers faster than the other, and staggers to his feet.  And quickly draws his gun, for reasons unknown. The other continues to retch, staying on his hands and knees on the cold, metallic floor. You ready your own, just in case.

Spinal_Taper
There’s silence as you lean in a small alcove. You shiver in your armor, the respirator hissing softly with your every breath, turning the poisonous air around you into the right amount of oxygen and dioxides through a process that’s little more than a miracle. You glances down for a second, before looking back up. There, on a crumbled, cracked chunk of blue construction plastic, is a scaled beast, it’s tentacles lash and twitch, the talons on it’s feet scoring thick gashes on the cheap material.

Mesor
The smell of smoke from Synth-Nicotine and of spilt moonshine fills the air around you as you lounge on the metal, and very uncomfortable, bar stool. Am empty bottle is beside you, reeking of the sugary ‘shine that Jim’s Cantina is known for. A young man wearing a heavy, metallic vest stands by a shotgun, occasionally serving out a drink to one of the many customers.

Ghazkull
You shiver, drawing the thick, insulating greatcoat around you tighter and buttoning it. You shift the heavy pack and gently try to shift the Launcher to ease the pain lancing through your back. It takes a long moment, as your survey the lands around you. Unleveled, grey-ish brown ice extends as far as the eye can see in every direction. Snow drifts down around you, and to the west, you can faintly see a tall, gleaming structure. A platform. Far away, to the north, you notice a figure seemingly unaffected by the cold.

Shootandrun
Harsh winds whips about you, but cold doesn’t manage to seep past your greatcoat, your warm clothing, or your Asgardian Genes, leaving you quite warm and toasty in this hellish, freezing weather. The weight of the weapons on your back do little to slow down your slow trudge.
Unleveled, grey-ish brown ice extends as far as the eye can see in every direction. Snow drifts down around you, and to the west, you can faintly see a tall, faintly gleaming structure. A platform. Far away, to the south, you notice a huddled figure.

Dragor
You’re huddled across from a fellow guard, stupidly put on watch duty along side this speechless grunt. He constantly shivers in his armor, and while you’re doing the same, you’re sure you’re far better at hiding it. He looks down at his feet, shifting in his leather boots, before looking back up. Muscles tense, and you follow his gaze. There, on a hunk of construction plastic, is a Consumption Horror. All tentacles and barbs. It’s talons are digging deeply into the plastic as it sniffs the air.

Ardas
You fall from your pod as the ice finally looses it’s grip on you. Your stomach convulses, and before you can stop yourself, you throw up all over the floor. Pinkish, purple goo drips from your lips as you try, and fail to get control of yourself. Your Minuteman, for some reason held tight in your grip, is dropped beside you.

Tiruin
It reeks of booze, sex, and smoke in this dingy, poorly lit bar. The oxygen, as plentiful as it is, smells sharply of ozone, and a host of other scents that make your nose curl. A young man wearing a combat vest, all expensive metals and thick plating, stands behind a bar, eyes searching for any trouble makers. Jim. The barkeep and bouncer. He found a bunch of sugar and some flavor packs, one day, and started making moonshine, which he sold to the Crusaders who needed to take their mind off of something.

Skyrunner
It’s cold in the wastes, and you trudge along, hoping to get somewhere relatively safe for some actual sleep, since you woke from the pod. It was a hard first few days, here, hiding from consumption horrors and other horrors more human in nature. You stop, slipping behind a rock as you notice two figures in the snow.
One is to the north, and the other is to the south, and is more huddled than the other. Directly west, you can see a gleaming structure, reminiscent of a platform.