| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| Slaver's Mistake FIN | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Sat Jul 9, 2011 7:52 pm (347 Views) | |
| Castor | Sat Jul 9, 2011 7:52 pm Post #1 |
 
|
Everto was sighing as he sat down by the road, it was so boring, he hasn't seen anyone for a while. He took out his books and scrolls from his pockets that he's accumulated over the months of traveling, scrolls from orc shamans, books from necromancers, and a large tome he kept in his haversack that he took from his mother. He poured over the documents, taking his quill, he pricked his finger and started to correct anything he noticed was amiss. It was rare to have so much free time, he started to correct each document one at a time. He had just corrected the shaman's scroll when he felt a sharp blow to the back of the head, he sprawled across the ground, his head wound bleeding. Who would dare attack him, he turned over, he could see three men wielding clubs, one of them had a pair of manacles, slavers. They laughed as one of them planted his foot onto Everto's chest, "We got ourselves another one, the boss will be plenty happy with this 'un, children and pregnant women sell the best, right lads?" The other two agreed. One of them moved forward to put the manacles on Everto's hands, that was a mistake, Everto growled as let his magic flow through his body, he lashed out in angry, setting the man who had the manacles on fire. This was exactly what he needed, the man on top of him panicked, stepping off of him, he launched a magic missile straight up between his legs, the man cried out in pain, bending over, Everto pressed his advantage leaping up to his feet he let loose a flurry of jabs into man's face, causing him to stand up straight, grasping his face, he looked down at Everto with anger, but that last only for a second before Everto let loose an uppercut, catching him right below the belt. The man's eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he passed out, Everto smiled, victory was his, he quickly grabbed one of the fallen clubs and turned, the other one was running down the road screaming, "Demon child! Demon child!" Oh well... he cracked the club over the man's head until he saw his blood starting to pool, he nodded with grim satisfaction as he threw his books into his haversack, taking off after the slaver, it was time to eradicate some people and save many more. |
 |
 
|
| Ezekial Smith | Sat Jul 9, 2011 10:04 pm Post #2 |
|
Ezekial walked through the plains, his hakama blowing in the breeze. Looking down, he could see that his blade began to glow lightly. What evil could it be? He looked around, and heard a commotion from quite a ways off. Going down to the main road, he saw a man running towards him, who he recognized as a slaver, screaming the words "demon child" over and over. Ezekial kept a hand on his sword, not drawing it, and shouted to the man, "Stop! Where are you running from?" The slaver stopped, afraid, but not as much of him as of something behind him. "No way am I gonna let you kill me. I'm outta here!" The slaver ran off the road and into the plain, rejoining the road some distance away from the old man, ignoring Ezekial's calling after him. Ezekial sighed, and looked to the road to see what it was that was going on, what sort of "demon child" would scare a slaver. He saw it soon enough, a very small child with pale skin, white hair, and red eyes. This little boy held a club covered in blood, something that shocked Ezekial. Looking down, Ezekial saw that his sword was glowing much lighter, and soon stopped glowing entirely. Looking at this strange child, he was sure that he wasn't evil, but that did not mean that he was not dangerous. Ezekial kept his hand on his sword, and shouted out, "Who are you and what are you doing here, child?" This child looked to be very young, and he could not imagine a good scenario that involved a child this young, whose parents should be nearby, and slavers. The club held in the child's hand was dripping blood, meaning that it was fresh, possibly one of the child's victims, from what the screaming man had said. He hoped that this child did not intend to make him another victim, as he would hate to have the blood of an innocent such as he on his hands. |
|
|
|
| Castor | Sun Jul 10, 2011 3:57 am Post #3 |
|
Everto dropped the club, wiping the blood from his face onto his sleeve, some old man was calling out to him. His face turned red with anger, "Look old man, I suggest you let me keep on moving, I've got bandits and slavers to stop, drop, and burn. I'm in a bit of a rush since he has quite a bit longer legs, I am Everto Parvulus, never call me a child again, and I was reading and correcting my books when one of them tried to knock me out, it takes little to say that I beat his head in with his own club, burnt another one alive, and currently chasing another one." He looked behind the old man, the bandit was out of sight. He sighed, "Well since I lost my target old man I can plenty of time to talk, who are you and why did you stop me, couldn't you see I was after that stupid slaver, once I find him and his gang I'm going to destroy them with my fists and spells!" To show him how true it was he took out two metal knuckles from his pockets, putting them on his hands. Now all he had to do was wait, was the old man a villain in league with them, or was he just some senile old fool. |
|
|
|
| Ezekial Smith | Sun Jul 10, 2011 4:52 am Post #4 |
|
Ezekial still had a hand on his sword as the child dropped the club, wiping his face with his sleeve. The boy's face turned livid, furious. The boy was so little, yet so serious that Ezekial could just barely contain a smile at the absurdity of the situation. "If you're chasing a bandit or slaver, I'll lend my aid. I would, however, prefer it if you would refer to me as Ezekial Smith rather than 'old man'. To me, even if you were a full-grown, you would still be a child. I wear clothes that are older than you, Everto." He noticed that the boy looked behind him, apparently after the slaver that had chased after him, and the boy sighed when he realized that the man had escaped. The old elf was serious, now, and said, "I stopped you because you came walking out covered in blood and wielding a bloody club. Even if I hadn't stopped you, the only way for you to catch up to the slaver would be if I killed the slaver. If anything, I slowed him down by stopping him, but I wouldn't expect you to know that. And don't be an idiot. If you went alone into the camp, you would be slaughtered." The old priest took a deep breath, preparing to go over the logistics of the group that the slaver belonged to. "The slaver you were chasing was a fairly low-ranked member of the slaving crew known as the Goblins. Despite his low rank, if he told them that a "demon child" was going up to their door to murder them all, and that he had already murdered to other slavers, they would be on alert. The camp up ahead has more than thirty people, with ten archers, many of them being very good shots. The rest of the camp is a mixture of sorcerers and warriors that could kill you before you could get close to your target. If you want to do this, you'll have to adopt a plan." He took his hand off of his sword handle now, sure that this person would not attack him, even if he did just put on a pair of metal knuckles. |
|
|
|
| Castor | Sun Jul 10, 2011 5:56 am Post #5 |
|
Vyse moved forward towards him, a smirk on his face, "Fine then Ezekial, let's walk and talk about a plan, I can't wait to give them the fiery punishment they deserve for imprisoning people and selling them like pelts." Slavers and bandits, the two things he hated most, at least necromancers did their horrible acts for the sake of knowledge, bandits and slavers did what they did for the coin, despicable people. He needed to keep prepared, his metal knuckles would do the talking once he got into a fight, though for now they needed a plan. He looked around the plans for any sign of activity, he saw none and sensed no magic being used on him, it was time to start planning, "Alright, we should try to prepare through this day, get supplies for traps and the like, try to lead them away from the camp after us, they'd probably leave a skeleton crew along with the leader, it should be easy enough to take them down as we run, fighting for one moment then running at the next." He thought it was a good plan, stick and move, just like he was taught by his father for fist fighting. He had an inkling of a feeling though that they wouldn't have favorable terrain... oh well, it was just a gut feeling. |
|
|
|
| Ezekial Smith | Sun Jul 10, 2011 1:39 pm Post #6 |
|
The old elf smiled, and waved for the young boy to walk beside him. As they walked it appeared that he was being careless, but he was very careful to make sure that his peripheral vision covered much of the surrounding area. He saw nothing besides the occasional animal, and could hear nor see any magic used, which was a very good thing indeed. He shook his head at the boy, and said, "I doubt that there will be enough supplies in the area to create traps, and every second that we leave to the slavers gives them more time to prepare. We must strike quickly, but not in a way that opens us up to danger, or at least, in a way as little danger as possible. As for the rest of the plan, that might would if you could run fast enough. The two of us might be able to take down a good number of them without suffering injury, though." Ezekial patted his sword with one hand, comfortable in its now familiar weight. "When they come for us, we stop, turn, and fight them back. You with your fisticuffs, me with my sword. If need be, we can both rely on magic, although incantation times will allow them to come closer, it may provide psychological power." He smiled now, every time that he could allow himself to cut loose, in a matter of speaking, to fight those who certainly deserved death he thought was a good day. His sword began to glow lightly in his case, and Ezekial took this to mean that the camp was getting closer, and told this to the boy. |
|
|
|
| Castor | Sun Jul 10, 2011 2:02 pm Post #7 |
|
He nodded to the old elf, it was a good plan, though there was one thing wrong he said, "I don't need incantations, my mom taught me how to cast with my mind, it's all just magical theory running through my head, and I will it to come into existence." He smirked, looks like Ezekial still had some learning to do when it came to magic. He should probably tell Zeke all that he could do, so they could make a better plan as they walked. He conjured a flame, letting it rest on the back of his fist, "Magic is just exerting your will onto the world, the incantation is just the catalyst for the spell to form, powerful mages can say, 'Overflowing waters crash upon my enemies,' while summoning a fire elemental, magic is 2 parts skill, one part body, one part mind, and two parts indomitable will. I will do as my mother has done, I will learn all of the tricks to become an excellent spellcaster, silent casing I already know, though next I will learn how to rapidly cast my spells, I feel as if my potential is limitless." He smiled as he thought about his future, it looked bright. Then he remembered why he had begun talking about magic, the spells, "We should probably learn of each others spells to greatly increase our odds of victory, perhaps some of our spells could be combined after casting to create a much more dire effect." He paused to let it sink in, then continued on, "I know fireball, magic missile, and ignite, I'm ready for any amount of targets with my spells." He of course was proud of his choices, some mages chose only long range area of effect spells or single target spells, he on the other hand chose a combination of the moves. If Ezekial had some interesting spells they could combine them after casting, allowing for an odd twist to the spells, this would be fun. |
|
|
|
| Ezekial Smith | Wed Jul 13, 2011 4:09 am Post #8 |
|
Ezekial frowned, and said, "To be honest, I've been neglecting my magical abilities, which means that I've forgotten many of the incantations to cast my most powerful spells. I only have fireball, magic missile, and heal, which won't be particularly useful during battle. What I have been training in for all of that time was in swordplay. I should doubt that the slavers would be able to do much damage." He patted the pair of swords at his side and noted that the larger one continued to glow brightly, the other sitting unchanged from its usual state. "I have not used such a thing in quite a while, but I can feel the spirits of others. This lantern acts as a conduit of sorts so that I might access the plane upon which the spirit, of kami, of other people exist. To tell the truth, I do not know how it works, only that it does. I do not know how much help it will be for this encounter, but the future is always shifting." The two people continued to walk upon the dirt pathway, and had just crested a small knoll when Ezekial spotted a small camp far along the path. Silent, he crouched down, and motioned for the child to do the same. He pointed to the camp, and put his fists, wrists down, together near his abdomen and moved them in a circle to suggest a slave. He put a finger to his lips to show silence or discreteness, and pointed the index fingers of both hands to himself, and moved them in an overhead arc to point forwards, to mean to go. He brought his left hand, open, up in front of his face, and extended his index finger and had his middle finger slightly extended, touching it with his thumb, and slid his right hand in front of his left. This last hand signal referred to killing. He looked at the child expectantly, then realized that the boy most likely did not know the system of hand signals he used. He told the child his comment in a light whisper. He moved closer now to the slaver's camp, and took a good look at it. It was rather simple, conjured cages held a cruel number of slaves for the space, packed so closely together that they were forced to stand. The cages were surrounded by men who launched both nasty jeers and small stones at the slaves while they were unable to avoid either. Besides those, there were the expected array of tents, as well as a larger tent that Ezekial presumed was the personal tent of the leader of the camp. Out of this tent came a large man who was followed by several others, including the man Ezekial had stopped before. Edited by Ezekial Smith, Wed Jul 13, 2011 12:17 pm.
|
|
|
|
| Castor | Wed Jul 13, 2011 6:17 pm Post #9 |
|
He crouched down by Ezekial, he watched him do all of the crazy hand signals... was the man an idiot or being serious, expecting him to know some kinda hand language that he'd never seen before. When he heard the whispered explanation he still didn't get it... oh well, he'd just do as he always did, make the biggest distraction possible and charge in. He followed Ezekial, looking at the camp, he looked at the cages, arranged to the side to keep them all together, nice, that made thing simpler for using his fireball spell. He saw tiny tents laid out along with bed rolls, several men laying down and resting while others were preparing to leave. He smirked, it was time for a little trick, he felt the magic flow into his mind as he concentrated on the large tent, a green flame appearing in his palm as he crushed it. Flames erupted from the large tent, the men quickly got up as their leader barked orders to save his tent, they moved to get around it, some of them muttering spells to create water in buckets to allow them to put out the flames. Everto smirked, it was time, "Fireball. Now." Everto stood up, feeling the heat of magic flow through his veins and body, slowly enveloping his hand in flames, shooting it forth towards the tent, the explosion would take out many bandits, even more if Zeke was fast enough with his casting. |
|
|
|
| Ezekial Smith | Sun Jul 17, 2011 9:10 pm Post #10 |
|
The old elf continued to kneel silently, and looked at the boy to see something to show understanding of what he had said. The search was inconclusive. He stood and walked closer to the camp, and jumped when the large tent erupted in bright flames. He fell into a crouch, looking around, thinking that there was someone else who was attacking the tent, someone who had the terrible idea of attacking a camp packed to the gills with somewhat-trained warriors that almost certainly outnumbered them. It was not until he heard an incantation behind him, and when he turned to see the source of it felt the heat of a fireball soar past his face that he realized that it was the young boy who had attacked the camp. He swore under his breath, and began to whisper the incantation to cast the fireball spell. He flicked out his arm, and an egg shaped fire ball flew to the large tent, spinning horizontally as it did so. It splashed onto the tent and covered it in flames. The flames licked at it for a second and then the big tent began to creak and fell. Bandits fled from inside the big tent, engulfed in flames. While some of the slavers ran around to escape the flames, the leader of the tent, a giant of a man, shouted orders and threw around his arms, telling the slavers to get weapons, to kill the attackers. One bandit asked the leader how they were supposed to kill the attackers if they couldn't find them. The leader grabbed his longbow from his back, nocked an arrow with an arrowhead of a dark, shiny metal, and aimed to where the two attackers were hiding. "That's where they are! He let go of the arrow and it soared through the sky faster than the old priest could see, and in sunk itself deep into the tree next to Ezekial's head. "You know where they are, now go kill them! The leader put down his longbow, and walked off to save his tent, catching a mage in a blue robe on his way there, likely a water magus. Ezekial swore, seeing the other slavers draw weapons, although it was lucky that only a few had crossbows or bows, and they did not look like good shots. "Looks like we're going in hot. Having said that, the old elf drew both swords and charged down the hill, swords behind him. |
|
|
|
| Castor | Mon Jul 18, 2011 12:16 am Post #11 |
|
Everto smirked, he charged in, leaping from their area into the open, rushing at the first bandit exiting the tents, sending a metal knuckled fist into his groin, accompanied by a high pitched scream. He looked as the others started to charge him, he smirked as he bit his thumb, ripping it open, allowing the blood to run onto the ground. He concentrated on the blood, having it form into a circle, he was happy about his next idea, he didn't need to speak to cast his spells, just the movement of his hands, his mental use of magical theory, and his green flame trigger. He saw them charging him, moving in much closer then he'd like, though that would make it all the more satisfying. The green flames appeared on his hands again, shoving them into the newly created magic circle of his own blood. He leaped over the circle as an odd being started to rise from it, it stands at six feet tall and wider then most warriors, it's head was blocky and odd looking, which Everto made into his seat, his legs dangling to the side as he looked down from the glass golem. The bandits though weren't so lucky, they were only a few steps from the golem when they tried to stop, it was to late, the glass golem slashed out with it's blade like arms, killing several of them as Everto cast another spell, a magic orb slamming into the legs of one of the few that were escaping, forcing him to fall over. Everto cried out, "Let's see you take out me and Glaiser!" He smirked as his golem, Glaiser, impaled the fallen bandit, moving on to fight the others. He leaped down though quickly, stomping down onto the chest of the fallen bandit he had punched before, crushing his ribs as he landed. He turned and started to help out Glaiser, fighting with him every step of the way, punching low as his golem swiped high, they were a deadly combination. |
|
|
|
| Ezekial Smith | Tue Jul 19, 2011 10:14 pm Post #12 |
|
The old priest charged down the hill and cut down the first person that came near with a single futogiri strike, a powerful strike in a downward diagonal direction, with his katana, and lunged at another, sinking the frosted blade of the wakizashi into his chest, the point piercing through both his lungs and into his heart. As he withdrew the blade, blood sprayed onto his kimono and onto the ground. The two bandits, both struck with fatal blows, bubbled bloody foam from their mouths and fell. He looked to the other attackers, and his hard glare stopped them from attacking him while he had rested his swords. He smiled inwardly and vowed to make them regret that mistake. He raised both swords, as if to preform dual futogiri, and waited until they moved to block the blow they had just seen cut down another of their number, and dropped the pair of swords to his side to preform a suihei that cut across the abdomens of a group of three slavers. They too fell, and the old warrior priest retained his grave face, stepping forward to the slavers that came forward. Looking to the side, he smiled to see the young boy fighting beside the big glass golem, the little boy fighting low while the tall golem fought high. He just barely dodged the bolt of a crossbow, and when he turned back, he saw a scared man frantically trying to reload his crossbow. The few seconds was all it took for the old man to close the distance, and with a practiced hand, lop of the man's hands at the wrists. The crossbow fell, and the man backed up, holding up his stumps while the man rushed forward to deliver a final blow, a thrust to the throat, with the edge vertical. The man dodged to the side, but it would do him no good if the edge was held vertical. The old man simply dropped the edge to the side and attacked the man with a horizontal slash. He shook the blood from the swords now by swinging them in a large arc behind his head and then down and to the right for the katana, left for the wakizashi, creating an x-shape in the air. Before him now stood a tall man who wielded a big ax, hefting it easily in one hand. He laughed, and lifted it over his head to chop at the head of the old man. It was a lethal mistake. The time to raise the ax gave the old man time to lunge forward, and cut deeply into the man with a suihei strike that cut through his rib cage and through his lungs, even cutting through to lacerate the heart. This man clutched a hand to his side as the old elf jumped back, and fell to his knees, and finally to the ground, fouling the ground with a pool of his own blood. The icy eyes of the old elf stared forward, and he knew that these slavers were mere fodder to be slain, but they were fodder that would need to be eliminated for the good of the slaves. For that cause, Ezekial would destroy all of the slavers here, even if he had an obligation to guide them to the afterlife. The sunlight shone off of the blood of the blade and made the hamon, the wavy temper lines of the swords, shine with a bright light, and the old man lunged forward again. He turned to his side, and shouted to the young boy, "Make sure you keep up, there's much work to do, little one. He looked back forward to ignore the berating that would surely follow, and jumped back into the fray, his swords gleaming. |
|
|
|
| Castor | Wed Jul 20, 2011 1:04 am Post #13 |
|
He looked back at the old elf, he was good, better then he thought, "Keep up? Me and Glaiser will be setting the pace here Ezekial!" He grinned as he dodged in and out from behind Glaiser, keeping enemies from getting behind Glaiser as he punched at the legs and waist of bandits that were trying to circle around, putting them back into the area of Glaiser's long deadly sweeps of his bladed arms, good golem. He felt a painful sensation as a crossbow bolt skims his cheek, the ranged forces have appeared. He had Glaiser turn, becoming a shield for him, Glaiser crouched to create a makeshift tower shield to cover him, perfect. He noticed the bandits with melee weapons were backing off, more then willing to let the archers do their job. With a collective twang of crossbows bolts bounced off the golem for the most part, though some caused small hairline cracks, as long as they didn't have maces or hammers Glaiser would be a perfect shield. He saw two bandits casting a spell, blasted mages, he started his own spell casting, two magic missiles hit Glaiser squarely in the chest, causing larger cracks, that was bad. He stepped up his concentration, "Glaiser. Charge." The golem stood up quickly, charging his foes, allowing Everto to target one of the foes, to easy, he unleashed a magic missile himself, it was a blessing to be able to silently cast his magic, otherwise people he first met would instantly be able to tell he was a mage... well before he set them on fire and summoned Glaiser, now it was just convenient to hide what spells he was using. He watched the missile collide with one of the mages, causing him to stagger back, the blow was shallow, he was just winded, time to get casting for another spell. Though first he should probably check on his ally. |
|
|
|
| Ezekial Smith | Thu Jul 21, 2011 3:32 am Post #14 |
|
The old priest was doing quite well, as his quick attacks easily cut down the bandits that attacked him. He sheathed his wakizashi, and placed his left hand on the handle of his katana, now able to swing harder and faster with it, and the holy flames that engulfed its blade roared silently. He bowled into a group of four bandits wearing thick leather armor that would have blocked against a lesser blade, but not the Yawarakai-Te. The old man, in the center of the four bandits, made a heavy slash at one man to the shoulder, cutting easily through the hard leather, and whirled around, the blade of the sword cutting into the leather and into the side of another bandit, spraying the ground with blood. He kicked the bandit down to die in the dirt and spun around, sword at ready. He dashed forward, feinting high and cut through the leg of one man, spinning around to attack the back of the other, who was fast enough to cut the old priest with a single clumsy cut that cut into the old man's forearm shallowly. He groaned and placed a hand over the wound, pausing, and recited a healing incantation. He was almost finished with it when he had to drop the spell to avoid a hurled ax from cutting open his shoulder to the bone. He winced at the pain of the large cut along his forearm, and ducked under another flung ax. He threw a hand up, and quickly recited an incantation before the man could find more axes to throw. At the end of his hand formed a rough sphere of rolling flames that flew from his hand into the burly man who had found another ax, and managed to throw it before he was engulfed in flames and fell screaming to the ground. Jolts of pain passed through him and he just barely dodged the ax, and it kicked up dirt and pebbles that would have stung had they hit any exposed flesh, but pattered harmlessly against the fabric of his pleated trousers. He finished his healing incantation, and the wound began to knit together, and it came together somewhat, but it was not entirely healed, and it would certainly leave a scar. It did not hurt as much, but it would be sore for quite a while. He continued forward, sword gleaming in the sunlight and cutting down slaver's on the way to freeing the slaves. |
|
|
|
| Castor | Sat Jul 23, 2011 3:27 am Post #15 |
|
He smirked, the old man had taken a hit, though he had healed it and was still moving, he could learn a thing or two about endurance from him. He looked up at the mages, his spell was done, he smirked as one of them set on fire, startling the others, breaking their next spell, good. He stopped his casting and kept behind Glaiser, constantly making sure no foes circled around him. No one would destroy his friend on his watch, he kept his fists and feet moving, destroying shins and uppercutting stomachs, keeping them in Glaiser's large sweeping attacks, it was to simple. He looked up to see the mages casting again, they would be expecting the fires now, no point in trying that trick again. He saw the bolts of water fly out of their hands, smacking into Glaiser, causing larger cracks, his big friend would be shot to pieces at this rate, he could survive a few more blows, though he shouldn't risk it to much, the slavers had went to defend the mages and their boss, they had iron maces, Glaiser would be destroyed in an instant at this rate. He dismissed Glaiser, watching as a few more bolts of water and crossbow bolts hit him, causing large chunks to fall off him just before he returned to his own plane. Everto snarled, it was time to start casting, he called forth his magic, summoning a ball of flames to his hand he let it loose, charging in behind it. It was time for the last assault and he would go in fists swinging. |
|
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Debon Plains · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
2:22 PM May 19
