Half-Baked

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

Half-Baked; Open to 2 max.
Topic Started: Wed Jul 20, 2011 6:34 pm (408 Views)
Yursk	Wed Jul 20, 2011 6:34 pm Post #1
Posts: 3 Group: Role-Players Member #11,598 Joined: July 20, 2011 Gender Male Race Tree-Boar Build Stocky Height 3' 5" Weight 80 Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5121423/1/?x=90 Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5102557/1/?x=90#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/single/?p=8014428&t=5121422	Life is simple on the Elemental Plane of Nature: bathe, hunt, eat, drink, dance, hunt, eat, drink, sleep, and repeat. There is no slavery to worry about, no religious fanatics trying to take over (or destroy) the world, no fools trying to take everything you have just because they can…it’s tranquil. Well, not quite, but mostly. Compared to Imythess, it’s most definitely tranquil. But, most importantly, it ‘s vast. An endless forest stretching across the bounds of reality - and loose would be an understatement for those bounds - with a tangled nest of roots and vines covering the veritably invisible forest floor, filled with all kinds of wildlife and every kind of tree one might imagine, one might equate it more with a jungle than a forest. But no one, save a madman or one focused solely upon himself, could deny that it is beautiful. True, nature is sometimes brutal and unforgiving; but, more often than not, it is also more synchronous and orderly than many people are led to believe. It can seem chaotic at times, but there is no true good or evil in nature; there is only cycle of birth, life, death, and rebirth. It is this cycle that Yursk had left behind not too long ago, though it seemed like ages now. He had explored a mossy cave he had never entered before, only to discover that it led him deep into a network of such caves. He had quickly gotten lost, and then he had slipped; his fall had carried him into an underground whirlpool, where he had been carried faster than he could run - and that was saying something - through a narrow tunnel of rock and dirt. The underground river eventually drove him into a seemingly endless cavern filled with cliffs, rock slides, and mud slides only to deposit him into a second whirlpool leading into a second tunnel. Then he had burst out into the open air and fallen - he knew not for how long - until he had slammed into a lake. Nearly drowned, but in open air once more, he had found himself besieged by heat so intense it had almost knocked him out as soon as he had left the confines of the small lake. He had tried to slip back into the lake to retreat from blazing ball of fire high above him, but it was far too late: he had been spotted; there had been a shout… …and the next thing he knew, he had been forced roughly into some kind of collar and shackles. Of course, he didn’t know what to call them - there were no such words in his language - but he had struggled something fierce. The heat had taken its toll on him quickly, or he would have been struggling much more fiercely. Dehydrated and suffering from heat exhaustion, he was only too relieved to see the ball of fire disappearing at last in the distance. He had no word for horizon, either, for there was none back home. But as he was yanked along on a chain, there was little else to be thankful for at present. When the darkness came at last, tinier versions of the ball of fire covering the sky like the leaves of so many trees, it was a great relief. He had just begun to fall asleep after the group had come to a halt when he found himself rudely awakened by a sudden splash of water. He sputtered and shook, not expecting the sudden dousing, but found that the others around him were in a similar state. Actually, he didn’t even know what the others around him were. Most of them had no fur at all, except for on their heads, and their skin was oddly pale. There were a couple whose skin was much darker, almost black, and a few who seemed almost as short as Yursk. There was no one that looked remotely like Yursk, however. He preened himself tiredly, noting this, until he saw his chance to escape again. He began to focus what little strength he had left into trying to snap the shackles; he could not. He was simply too weak, and they were simply too strong. He growled, even snarled, as he attempted to wrench himself free of the strange black substance that bound him, only to receive a blow to his head in the process. He fell to the ground and kicked out hard, but his attacker had stepped out of range. He tried to get up, but that only made his head hurt more. Then a foot was slammed into his stomach, and then he knew no more. When he came to at last, he was groggy and started wiping the sleep from his eyes. He still ached, but his aches had a fresh pain added to them as he felt a swift kick in the rear. He yelped and snarled, whirling around, but was slapped in the back of the head and shoved forward. The chain gang was moving again. But it was time for food! He had slept, now he was awake, and now it was time to hunt. Why wasn’t he allowed to hunt? He still found himself trapped in the shackles and collar, and he was once again struggling and snarling as desperately tried in vain to escape. Nobody else was trying to escape, a fact he pondered momentarily before focusing again on his own escape. Why wasn’t anyone trying to get away from this trap? Why wasn’t anyone fighting back? Why would someone allow themselves to be abused like this? The little fellow just didn’t get it. So he continued struggling even as he trudged forward, the black ground and blue air slowly turning into a purple haze, and then becoming crimson as the ball of fire’s light washed over the entourage once more. Yursk groaned loudly, but was ignored this time. He continued to struggle, not wanting to face the blazing fury of the sky again. It seemed, however, that he had no choice. Soon, the ball of fire had risen fully into view and the air began to grow hot once more. As the hours passed him by, Yursk suffered more and more. He came to respect the ball of fire out of fear, but by mid-day, he had begun to understand why no one was struggling: they didn’t have the energy to. Yursk himself was dehydrated once more, but he did find very brief relief when he was doused again at mid-day. The relief did not last long. Yursk had not counted the number of times he had seen the ball of fire in the sky, and so he did not know how many days and nights had passed. Eventually, he was given a bit of old meat that he almost didn’t eat. But, his stomach was rumbling and he was very weak, so he ate it. The meat tasted absolutely terrible. He forced it down, but it almost came back up. In the end, it didn’t. He struggled more quietly after his first night in the endless desert sands, but after a while, he struggled no more. Instead, he focused on nursing his blistered feet and gnawing on his claws with his teeth to keep them sharp. Eventually, the trail led to some kind of triangular structures amid the dunes. They were held up by what looked like trees without leaves. People milled about everywhere, but Yursk was shoved into one of the larger ones with the rest of the slaves. They were all doused again, heavily this time, and Yursk found himself wondering what strange event would occur now. Realizing that he was not being observed for the first time since he had arrived in this place, he renewed his struggles. When he tried to grab the shackles, one of his claws slipped into a small hole in one of them; he tried to get it out, but couldn’t immediately. Growling, he wrenched it free - and heard a small click in the process. The shackle burst open! Shocked, Yursk didn’t immediately know what to do. Then he under stood: there was something inside the strange substance that made it open. He tried it with his other shackle; that, too, broke open. Then he tried it with the collar - and it worked there, too! He was FREE! But he was still in danger…he needed water. No one paid him much attention as he stepped past them and peeked out of the tent. No one was watching…MEAT. It was the first thought that came into his mind when he saw it hanging there from one of the tree-looking things that held the triangular things up. He looked around, but there was no one to see him as he dashed across the open ground to it. He snatched it and devoured it, spitting out the string when he was done. Then he ate another, and another - until they were all gone. The meat tasted funny. It had been cooked, but Yursk could not have known this. Still, the poultry had been delicious. But now, he had to escape. He saw a bucket of water and drained it, getting himself wet as much as he quenched his thirst. Now he was ready to fight back. He growled and darted forward with surprising speed, barreling through several pairs of legs like a ball knocking over pins. He was in the open quickly, but then he felt something weird happening. He was slowing down! How was this possible? He was going so fast, and yet, his legs suddenly weren’t working right. Then he felt something hard slam into his back, and he just caught a faint flash of blue light out of the corner of his eye as he fell. He was up quickly, but for some reason, his legs did not want to work properly; his whole body felt like sap. He still moved with surprising speed, but not nearly as much as he had been able to before. Then a net came out of nowhere and he was entangled. He struggled, snarling, and ripped right through it - only to had a club slammed hard into his stomach again. He was sent flying and landed in a cloud of sand. Then another flash of blue light caught him in the side of the head, and he was out cold. When he awoke, he was alone in a tent. Separate shackles bound each of his arms and each of his legs to metal poles set into the ground, two more shackles held his body fast to them, and a collar was around his neck once more. He had something on his face, too; it was like the net, but harder, and he couldn’t open his mouth very far. He scratched and struggled, but to no avail. He pulled and lunged, but he could barely move. He snarled, but that only got a rock thrown at his head from behind. He yelped and blinked away the pain, now realizing that someone must be guarding him from behind to make sure he didn’t escape again. Despite the shade offered by the tent, as the day wore on, the heat took its toll on him once more. Again, he became dehydrated; again, he grew hungry. But this time, no one came to douse him with water. When at last the man behind him left, he was truly alone. Even back home, hunting on his own, he wasn’t truly alone. But here...this was another matter entirely.



Mist	Thu Jul 21, 2011 4:16 am Post #2
Posts: 14 Group: Role-Players Member #11,590 Joined: July 11, 2011 Gender Female Race Human Build Athletic Height 5'6" Age 20 Hair Light blond Eyes Light brown Skin Pale Name Mist Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5120648/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5119462/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5120645/1/#new	Lumi owes me a pay raise... The sun beat down on the endless expanse of sand, the horizon shimmering from the intense heat. Many travelers had doubtlessly been lost in the bleak landscape, wandering until they collapse from lack of water or food or the heightened temperature. Luckily, Gage Schmied and his companion were on one of the roads that pierced through the desolate environment, the packed dirt barely distinguishable from the surrounding sand. The man shifted uncomfortably in his armor. Outside of the thick layers of adamantine, the temperature was merely sweltering; inside of the heavy plate armor it was pure misery. He was sweating from every pore, his hair plastered down across his face from the perspiration. The heavy padding he wore to protect himself from the pinching armor was adhered to his flesh. The armor he wore was as impressive as it was broiling. Crafted out of thick adamantine plate, the metal had been stained a deep black color, polished until it gleamed like obsidian in the sunlight. It was edged with silver foil, intricate designs traced across the metal. He wore a thick white cloak from his spaulders in a desperate attempt to dull the warmth, but to no avail. Gage had no doubt that if he or his companion touched the heated material with their bare hands they would be scalded from the heat. He could probably cook a meal on the breastpiece. Gage grumbled and shifted underneath the armor. He had thought that the heat of the forge was blistering, but it was nothing compared to the oppressive Istani sun. Usually the blachsmith-turned-hammer-for-hire would avoid such a desolate, lifeless landscape as if it were the plague. That was before he began working for Kirsikka Enterprises, however. Now he went wherever Lumi Kirsikka asked him to go and complete whatever task she set before him. Usually, this amounted to expanding their business operations in Imythess, or delivering one of the masterwork weapons he had crafted. The smithy desperately wished that this operation was one of those simple jobs. Instead, they were here to break up a slavery ring. The white fabric of his cloak flapped around his adamantine-clad frame as he stared down the dune towards the goal of their journey, a series of white tents in the middle of the seemingly endless sand. "Let's go." This was directed at his companion, a sellsword named Kalim, one of the many hirelings in the infrastructure of Kirsikka Enterprises. Although the blacksmith had never witnessed the mercenary in battle, Lumi swore that he had the skill to back Gage up in this operation. At the moment they were masquerading as slavers from Istan, visiting the slaving enclosure in order to view the merchandise. Kalim, being a native of the desert country, was acting the part of an Istani noble; Gage was merely meant to act as a bodyguard until the fighting began. The two walked down the packed dirt road to the slaving encampment. Each step that Gage took was accompanied by a metallic clank as the armor shifted on his body. He certainly looked the part of a bodyguard. His adamantine-clad frame was thick and muscular, although he was only of average height. An atypical weapon was clasped to his belt; a warhammer with a long shaft, the head of the hammer a thick block of metal. Although it did not appear to be anything special, the weapon/tool actually held powerful enchantments, allowing the blacksmith to strengthen or weaken any metallic object he struck. His formidable strength made the hammer even deadlier, and he was quite proficient in its use from years of laboring at the forge. "Remember. Act confident and rich. Let them take us into the the slave pins before you strike... I'll take care of freeing the 'merchandise.'" His weapon made the blacksmith a perfect candidate for this mission, as a single strike of the enchanted warhammer could shatter iron shackles. They were counting on the slaves to bolster their ranks in order to demolish the slavery ring. A ruthless slaving empire was encroaching across the realm of Imythess, and Kirsikka Enterprises was strongly opposed to the practice of purchasing sentient merchandise. Furthermore, Gage had heard rumors that the men enslaved children as well as the elderly. And that was one thing the blacksmith would not allow. Edited by Mist, Thu Jul 21, 2011 4:17 am.



Kalim	Thu Jul 21, 2011 7:22 am Post #3
Posts: 80 Group: Role-Players Member #11,560 Joined: June 1, 2011 Gender Male Race Human Build Lean and muscled Height 5'10 Weight 170 lbs Age 20 Hair Blond Eyes Brown Skin Slightly tanned Name Zachary Firious Alias Kal Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5118908/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5118119/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5118118/1/	For the thousandth time, Kal asked himself what he was doing in this forsaken land, this abyssal part of Imythess. Sweat rolled off of him in buckets as he trudged along a packed dirt road, one of the trade routes commonly used by merchants. It had been quite some time since he had thrown his cloak over himself, but while the thick fabric gave him some protection from the sun, it did little to keep the suffocating heat from affecting him. He thought he had become accustomed to the desert, considering that as a child it had been his playground, but it seemed that any acclimation had long since faded. At this rate, they would be in no condition to fight when they finally did arrive at that blasted slave camp. "What does a group of slavers have to do with selling weapons, anyway?" The question was directed at his companion, a blacksmith by the name of Gage, without really expecting an answer. He had been asking himself the same thing for hours, without coming to any logical conclusion. He was just as troubled by the thought as any normal being would be; the thought of selling humans like property was abhorrent. But this kind of thing was best left authorities, who had the power and jurisdiction to handle it. Not two men, one of them not properly even a soldier. He still wasn't sure how he felt about having a blacksmith as his "bodyguard", though clad in armor as he was, he appeared more than a little intimidating. He had been told it was made out of adamantine, one of the hardest substances known to man. How he managed to even move in it was beyond the mercenary. If he had the strength to bear it, then the hammer on hip was certain to be capable of terrible things. "Remember. Act confident and rich. Let them take us into the the slave pins before you strike... I'll take care of freeing the 'merchandise." Kal muttered a curse under his breath. He really didn't want to be reminded of their "brilliant" plan. He was supposed to play a noble. A noble! He even had to change his look for it. Though his cloak was the same, the many stains and tears in it were now gone, and instead of his normal brown tunic he wore much finer linens, though suited for travel. It was the kind of thing a lord might wear if he was going on a long journey. A haircut had been considered, since his matched no known Istani style, but it had slid past, since by the time they arrived it would be so matted with sweat that it wouldn't matter. They had, at least, let him keep his sword. Istan was a vicious place. Even the highborn learned how to defend themselves from a young age. He felt like grumbling some more, but knew it would do him no good. He had finally gotten himself a steady job with Kirsikka Enterprises, and if he wanted to keep it he had to follow Lumi's orders. Vaguely, he realized that he had never even met the woman. Maybe if they had time, he'd ask Gage about her. Aaaand...there it is. In the flat desert terrain, it wasn't hard to see the camp, even from this distance, though the tents were lightly colored to blend into the browns and yellows. Apparently, it went both ways, since as they came closer he could make out several human shapes waiting for them a little in front of the mass of tents. They didn't appear directly hostile, which relieved him. It looked like the messenger had arranged their appointment sucessfully, then. Even so, he knew better than to ignore them. Each was armed, and anyone that thought an Istani didn't know how to use his or her weapon of choice was a fool. Time to be a noble, I guess. He thought back to all the lords and ladies he had encountered, pondering over the way they behaved. He immediately changed his swordsman's deliberate pace one dramatically different. He strutted, his chest puffed out. His face turned lazy, as if the men before him were nothing but irritating distractions, dirt on his shoes at best. Look at me, he thought, metally willing himself to get into the role. I'm better than all of you scum. One of the men approached. His skin was dark, moreso than even most native Istanis, and a thick-bladed scimitar rested at his side. The men flanking him looked at them, eyes hard. "Welcome to our camp," he said, his gaze directed at Kal. He seemed to ignore Gage. The mercenary scowled. "Not much of one, is it? Is this the best you can do with your profits?" The man's mouth dropped open slightly, but he quickly recovered, though now his eyes darted nervously towards the blacksmith. "Ah, yes, well...we must travel light, you see? Tents must be carried. We cannot carry a palace!" He laughed faintly at his own joke, but stopped when he saw that his "customer" hadn't joined in. "Just show me the stock," Kal growled. "If it is worth the money, I do not care if you live in a pigsty." The man gulped, nodded weakly, and led them towards the nearest tent. The men that had been behind him now walked over to step behind them, obviously meaning to usher them forward while also preventing escape until the business here was done. He smiled at them, motioning towards Gage. "Have you met my bodyguard? That is adamantine he wears." There was a slight flicker of surprise in those stone masks before they returned to their previous setting. He sighed and turned to follow the slave trader. I really hope this works...



Yursk	Thu Jul 21, 2011 8:14 am Post #4
Posts: 3 Group: Role-Players Member #11,598 Joined: July 20, 2011 Gender Male Race Tree-Boar Build Stocky Height 3' 5" Weight 80 Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5121423/1/?x=90 Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5102557/1/?x=90#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/single/?p=8014428&t=5121422	Two of them men were little more than guards, their steel chain mail breastplates and leg armor allowing freedom of movement as well as protecting them. Light armor was something only an Istani would know instinctively to wear in such heat as this. The thoughts running through their mind seemed to follow the same course of logic as the armor of the noble’s bodyguard was mentioned: if the bodyguard could handle the weight of that armor and the heat created by wearing it in Istan, how were they to effectively guard against any potential thieves? Sure, they were well-trained with the halberds they carried in their right hand and the always-at-the-ready javelins they carried in their left, but they could only do so much. What were a medium quality of protection and a small collection of deadly weapons going to do against a juggernaut with a hammer that looked like it could fell a tree in one blow? But the guards remained tight-lipped as they followed the obvious leader of the small troupe, the slaver’s personal bodyguard, and the potential customer and his entourage into the small camp. The first tent the pair was shown to was a rather large one, but they were not shown inside. Instead, several dolled-up slaves were led outside for the noble’s inspection. Four of the nine were human men of sturdy stock, clearly built for hard labor and with not a scratch upon them; scars from whips had been removed from their backs by magic, the marks of the desert and of the shackles had been removed by the same, and they had been oiled up to appear as shiny as freshly forged armor. Two more of the slaves were female - one human, one a sun elf; the latter was the only one who seemed only mildly bothered by the heat, the rest trying to look like they weren’t suffering too much. While the men wore simple boots and breeches, the women were garbed in fine linens that covered them without covering up too much of their obviously beautiful bodies. It was all too clear what they were being sold for. Two more slaves were dwarves with forcibly shaven beards and no hair upon their heads, dolled up as the human men were, and the last could have been a gnomish man were it not for the lack of distinguishing features; no, this one was just a boy, probably no more than ten, with a toned yet nubile body. Unlike the grown men, he was wearing a tunic so as not to be burned. Each of them stood proudly, as though they wished for nothing more than to serve, but the looks in their eyes told a different story: save the boy, who glared defiantly at his potential owner without trying to make it too obvious (though it was painfully so), the eyes of each of the slaves showed just how much of their spirit had been broken by the brutal desert warriors. By the look of the boy’s ears, he was at least partially elven, though his shaven head and lightly tanned skin did not make it clear what breed of elf; he was obviously Istani, but beyond that, he was merely a boy to anyone that might buy him. The guards stood idly by as the merchant went on to describe the features of and possibilities of each slave - happily. His own bodyguard wasn’t the only one eyeing the adamantine monstrosity, however. The merchant’s voice drowned out any noise the little one might have made, his growls and snarls going un-noticed by those outside. Just three tents and a ten-second walk away, the Tree-Boar struggled invisibly against his bonds now that the guard was away. He had finally twisted his right hand enough that he could easily get to the lock on his shackle now, but he was having trouble with this one. He could not have known that the locks had been filled with now-dried sap to prevent just such an attempt again. Now, only magic would open them. But struggle he did nonetheless, for if he could get just one arm free, he could rid himself of this ridiculous muzzle and then free himself completely! But alas, his strength had been drained by the lack of food and water, and he could not pick the lock no matter how hard he tried! Once more, he found himself pulling and yanking at the chains, but he could barely move an inch before the chains pulled him back. A shadow passed by as he struggled, giving him pause; by the shape of it, that shadow was the man he’d seen with the staff - some kind of ruby-topped staff. Unbeknownst to the Tree-Boar, the man was a powerful mage who was pretty much in charge of the entire camp. But one thing was for certain: the four heavily armed, well-trained axe-men were not to be trifled with lightly. They were some kind of mixed breed, over-sized orcs with the heads of birds. They had no wings, but they were fast and they were powerful, and their steel plate armor was the only armor in the camp enchanted with ice magic to keep the wearers cool. The gods only knew what other enchantments their armor and weapons bore, or what the ice enchantments would to do anyone other than the wearers to touched them, but they were very deadly and that was more than enough to keep anyone from going near the mage. But soon, the shadows passed the small tent by and Yursk was left alone once more. He resumed his struggles, trying desperately to free himself from the iron bonds, but to no avail. He couldn’t help but add a whimper of despair to his cries of outrage.



Mist	Thu Jul 21, 2011 6:01 pm Post #5
Posts: 14 Group: Role-Players Member #11,590 Joined: July 11, 2011 Gender Female Race Human Build Athletic Height 5'6" Age 20 Hair Light blond Eyes Light brown Skin Pale Name Mist Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5120648/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5119462/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5120645/1/#new	Gage felt eyes on him as they entered the camp, and it took a conscious effort not to reach for his warhammer. Such an action might be construed as antagonism, and he did not want to give the slavers any excuse to disarm him. The camp did not appear to be heavily fortified; there was no wall surrounding the complex, no physical obstacle that the slaves would have to pass in order to escape. Of course, where could they run to? The desert stretched away from the encampment in every direction, and a slave desperate to escape would probably ignore the solitary road in their haste to flee. The desert would kill the slaves as surely as any guard. It was not a display of force that kept the slaves imprisoned, but rather crushing despair and the fact that they had no avenue of escape. Gage felt his gut churn with nausea at the casual display of dominance and cruelty, following the sellsword through the camp. His companion was playing the part well; Kalim's every word seemed to be accompanied by a sneer of contempt, and he walked with all of the pomp of a preening peacock. Gage tried to play his part as well; the armored man stayed a few steps behind the Istani, gray eyes alert for any threats. Granted, it was doubtful that he would truly be in danger encased in thick adamantine as he was, but Kalim was much more vulnerable. The blacksmith clanked as he followed Kalim towards one of the tents, covertly scanning the set-up of the tents from the depths of his helmet. There was a central tent they were approaching, obviously meant for parading their merchandise. The other tents were lined up along the larger tent. Some of them had guards posted outside, obviously locations where slaves were kept until a client visited. The flaps of those tents had been pulled open to display the wares, and also to allow the guards to better supervise their charges. Gage could see that many of the enslaved people in this ancillary tents were shackled together to prevent them from escaping. The third tent had its flap closed, and the blacksmith could hear some odd, animalistic growl emanating from its depths. The guards themselves looked like typical sellswords. Although they all held weapons, few of the defenders seemed willing to wear heavy armor under the broiling sun. He could only spot four men who wore protection heavier than steel chainmail, and they walked around the corner of a tent before he could examine them further. Other tents were meant as dwellings for the masters of the camp. These structures were constructed of much finer materials, and no guards stood watch over them. Gage's attention was diverted from the surroundings when they reached the central building and a line of men and women trudged out of the tent. Although their skin was smooth and unbroken, the resigned light in their eyes suggested these people had given up hope of escape long ago. None of them were in fetters, yet they still stood in place meekly. Gage's eyes went to the last figure in the sickening line-up and felt his blood go cold. A child. A boy of no older than ten was clad in a simple tunic, glaring at his captors with unveiled contempt. The blacksmith's mind was consumed with a white-hot fury that burned fiercer than the sun above. The rumors were true; these slavers were vile enough to incarcerate children. Barely thinking about his actions, the blacksmith turned his head and beckoned to one of the accompanying guards, hoping that Kalim would be able to fend for himself when everything went to hell. The man approached him warily, leaning in to hear Gage's words. The smithy rumbled a short sentence in Dwarven, a series of gibberish words about metal quality and construction details. The dwarves in the line-up stiffened, looking at the bodyguard in surprise. The guard's eyebrows moved together in a confused expression. "I... I'm sorry, I don't speak-" "Now." Gage brought his armored fist into the guard's unprotected face. Although he was not a trained warrior, the blacksmith had labored in the forge for over twenty years, and he had muscles that a bodybuilder would envy. The adamantine smashed into the guard's face, splintering his teeth and spreading his nose across his features. Gage felt warm blood squirt through the gaps in the armor, soaking into the leather glove he wore underneath the gauntlets. The guard lurched back from the blow, weakly dropping his halberd towards the armored blacksmith. The thick blade of the poleaxe simply bounced off of the thick armor, barely leaving a scratch on the nearly indestructible armor. The second guard cried out, reacting much quicker than Gage would have predicted. He hurled the javelin at Gage's back from point-blank range. The metal head of the spear struck the backplate of his cuirass with a metallic clang, the wooden shaft splintering from the force of the attack. Yet the assault barely nicked the adamantine. Gage turned towards the remaining guard, yanking the warhammer from his belt. This time the halberd was directed at his head. The blacksmith did not falter or flinch away; instead he headbutted the attack. The halberd's blade scraped along the curved greathelm with a screech that threatened to deafen the smithy, slamming into his left spaulder with enough force to stagger the blacksmith. His head and shoulder ached from the force of the attack, but the adamantine plate did its job, stopping the weapon from sundering his flesh. His counter-attack was a two-handed blow that shattered the guard's chest. The steel chainmail provided absolutely no protection against the blunt weapon. The enchanted weapon glowed as it struck the metal, effectively weakening the mail so that the blow was accompanied by a shower of severed metal links. The guard's ribs shattered, shards of bone puncturing both lungs and his heart. The man fell to the ground, struggling to draw in a rattling breath as blood bubbled in his throat. Gage grabbed the halberd before it could fall to the ground, throwing the weapon to the shocked slaves. ”You want to be free? Prove it. Hoping that Kalim could take care of the slaver and his personal bodyguard, Gage turned towards the tents and the other guards, settling into a defensive stance with the hammer clutched in both armored fists, his blood boiling with rage at their cruel treatment of a child.



Kalim	Fri Jul 22, 2011 5:27 pm Post #6
Posts: 80 Group: Role-Players Member #11,560 Joined: June 1, 2011 Gender Male Race Human Build Lean and muscled Height 5'10 Weight 170 lbs Age 20 Hair Blond Eyes Brown Skin Slightly tanned Name Zachary Firious Alias Kal Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5118908/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5118119/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5118118/1/	Despite his best efforts, Kal couldn't keep disgust from his face as the first slaves began to appear, brought forth from a central tent that seemed meant for showcasing the camp's best "product". Fortunately, the slaver took it the wrong way, doubtless thinking that his distaste was due to the slaves not meeting his standards. The man quickly ushered out the rest of them, pointing out the muscles the men posessed, perfect for any physical task he required. Kal had to mentally restrain himself to keep from drawing his sword as he saw the women. Two dwarves appeared, and the slaver claimed that they made perfect servants for serving him drink or food. By the time a boy joined them, the mercenary's eyes were hard, and a look of utter contempt provided the merchant with no encouragement. He turned to the other tents, speaking quickly. "Of course, this isn't all we have! Bring the next group out!" He shouted to one of the tents, while gesturing for those in front of them to be returned to the central tent"Now," he heard Gage utter beside him. "Right behind you," he said, turning away from the adamantine-clad man as he proceeded to smash one of the guard's faces. Though the sellsword didn't witness the act, it didn't sound pretty, and he reminded himself to stay on the blacksmith's good side. His own longsword came free of its sheath, and the recently-polished sword gleamed in the desert sun. He turned sideways, slanting the sword before him, watching the group of me before with a trace of amusement. Their faces transformed from neutral, to surprise, then to shock and outrage. The slaver actually screamed. Like a little girl. Kal decided to kill him first, and stepped into a lunge, meant to skewer the fool through his stomach, suddenly the ax-head of a halberd came swinging into his sight, deflecting the blade. The man's remaining guard was doing his job. The slaver scampered back behind his bodyguard, scimitar half-drawn, but it was clear that he had no intention of fighting. Kal eyed the halberd the other man wielded with a frown. He had next to no experience fighting these types of weapons. Most, he had only seen in the hands of soldiers and guardsmen, which he hadn't ever had a reason to fight. His sword didn't have the range needed to get close enough to attack without getting his legs cleaved out from beneath him, or taking a spear jab to the heart. The guard said nothing, keeping his dark eyes fixed on him, and the man slowly knelt on one knee with the larger weapon in hand while he lifted one javelin. He hurled the weapon, and Kal stepped to the side, barely evading it, though the tip did leave a long scratch on his shoulder. He immediately ran towards the kneeling guard, and the man dropped his javelins and placed the freed hand along with the other on the haft of his polearm. Though his sword came crashing down, the bodyguard simply blocked it with the hard wood, and as the weapon bounced back, he swept the halberd low. Suddenly, all Kal heard was air rushing past his ears, and he found himself on his back, staring up at the blinding sun. He rolled to the side as the spearhead came stabbing downward, scooping up a handful of dirt and sand as he did so, and immediately hurled it into the bodyguard's face once he was back on his feet. It was a cheap, dirty, and cliched tactic, but it worked, and as the halberder recoiled, Kal jumped forward to grab the weapon and keep it from flailing about. His stabbed his sword at the man's chest, but the sharpened point was stopped dead by chainmail that the man wore. Chainmail armor. Vulenerable to piercing. He released his grip on his opponent's halberd, stepped behind him, and slammed his elbow into the man's back with enough force to send him staggering to the ground. Dropping his sword, Kal held both hands out and shouted a single command, "Change!". The leather gauntlets on his hands seemed to tighten before beginning their transformation, and he watched as the simple material was replaced with much stronger steel plating. On each gauntlet, a single spike emerged above his knuckles, and beneath the bracer on his left hand, a hook formed, creating a kind of slot between it and his fist. Without waiting a second longer, he fell onto the guard's back, both fists slamming into his shoulders. The man cried out as the sharp spikes pierced his armor, and the mercenary followed the punches up with a kick to the back of the head. The guard collapsed, unmoving; whether he was unconcious or dead, Kal didn't know. After retrieving his sword, his eyes turned to the slaver, and at the mercenary's gaze, the man turned and fled. Swearing - the desert was no place to be running about - he took off after the man, doing his best to keep his footing in the sand. He overtook him, and slammed his shoulder against the slaver, resulting in him doing a faceplant into the sand. Kal grabbed him by the arms and lifted him to his feet. He looked at the sellsword pleadingly. "A-are you going to kill me?" he stammered. Kal raised his sword. "Of course I am." He provided no time for him to cry out, and with one thrust, one more body fell to the earth. A strange noise reached his ears; something that sounded like a rabid animal, but what was it? He saw no dogs that he knew of. Eyes turned to the nearest tent, one that, strangely enough, had its flap closed. Perturbed, he stepped over to it and pulled it open before looking inside. What he saw made him freeze. "Hey, Gage!?" He shouted, hoping the blacksmith could hear him.



Yursk	Fri Jul 22, 2011 7:42 pm Post #7
Posts: 3 Group: Role-Players Member #11,598 Joined: July 20, 2011 Gender Male Race Tree-Boar Build Stocky Height 3' 5" Weight 80 Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5121423/1/?x=90 Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5102557/1/?x=90#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/single/?p=8014428&t=5121422	Despite his heat exhaustion and dehydration, the Tree-Boar continued his struggles to escape - albeit a bit weakly. Deciding that brute force was not something he was still capable of in his current state, he stopped after another few moments and closed his eyes. To an outsider, it might look like he was resting - or perhaps dead. But really, he was meditating. He didn’t know how long he was “out of it”, but when he came to, he had cleared his mind and focused his muscles. It didn’t make him any stronger, of course; it just allowed him to throw more of what was left of himself into his task. With a few deep breaths, he lunged - and one of the poles actually moved. He continued lunging and grunting, trying to rip at least one of the poles from the ground. The problem was that it was buried deep, so it would not have been easy even for a huge barbarian to remove - and for someone who’d been severely neglected since he’d accidentally taken that passage that had so obviously led him out of his home plane… It was not long before he began to recognize strange sounds coming from outside. It wasn’t the sound of a hunt; rather, it was the sound of a battle. He recognized it only because of the sparring matches he’d heard and seen since coming here, occasional battles meant to keep the guards sharp. The scream that had preceded the battle had reached Yursk’s ears, but it hadn’t immediately registered. Now he realized what he’d heard, and now he struggled more than ever to get free. If they were slaughtering slaves, he wasn’t going to die so easily. If only he could get free! Then there was some kind of shadow falling across the flap of Yursk’s tent, and then there was a second shadow. Something happened, there were words exchanged in that strange language Yursk did not know, and then one of the shadows did not move any longer. A moment later, the flap was thrown open to reveal a man different from the slavers or the guards. He was paler and carried a sword, but he also had a look of utter shock and anger on his face. He said something the Tree-Boar did not recognize, and as the man stared at Yursk, so too did Yursk stare back at the man. But whereas shock and anger filled the face of the human man, Yursk’s eyes were filled with fear and outrage. Assuming that he was about to die, Yursk lunged backward to put any distance he could between him and his potential murderer. Adrenaline aided his focused muscles in moving the pole to his right just a fraction of an inch more, but his renewed struggles weren’t helping him much. Things had gotten out of hand far too quickly. The head slaver was a fool and a coward, but the mage had only avoided telling him this to his face because of the significant quantity of gold he’d been promised. It seemed that he would not be receiving such today, but at least he’d already been paid for his time spent in this accursed desert. He was mostly thankful that his robe kept its wearer cool and dry by the same enchantment that was tied to the armor of his personal guards. Seeing that the situation was not going to go well for the slavers, however, the mage decided to enter the fray - well, not directly, but directly enough. The tent flap hiding that creature (a likely extraplanar one) had been pulled aside now. His experiments couldn’t happen if the beast was freed. Two massive orcs thus rushed forward to deal with the peeping swordsman, their huge battle axes giving off just as much cold energy as their armor. They were like rushing bulls, fast and deadly, but their bird-like heads were in no way bovine. They cawed and screeched, bringing their axes to bear with battle cries that would have deafened anyone not wearing earplugs (not literally, but close enough). Their intent was clear: use their hideously strong physique to overcome and destroy the moron who’d dared to stand against the mage’s employers. The other two the mage sent to handle the adamantine-clad hammer master. The mage himself, however, began casting a spell. In seconds, the sand and rock beneath everyone’s feat began to tremble. Forming slowly was the makings of a powerful foe indeed: an earth elemental. Even as the final product formed and began to inherit the will of its master, however, another spell begun to be cast…



Mist	Sat Jul 23, 2011 5:28 pm Post #8
Posts: 14 Group: Role-Players Member #11,590 Joined: July 11, 2011 Gender Female Race Human Build Athletic Height 5'6" Age 20 Hair Light blond Eyes Light brown Skin Pale Name Mist Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5120648/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5119462/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5120645/1/#new	Gage managed to shuffle after Kalim at a ponderous pace. Adamantine, for all its myriad benefits and the protection it offered, was heavy. He could already feel the strain of wearing the armor into combat, his arm muscles aching under the armor. Still, he was used to pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion, and he knew he could keep fighting for hours while encumbered by armor. As he jogged after the mercenary there was a flash of silver in the sunlight. The blacksmith did not even bother to try and dodge the projectile as a throwing knife rebounded off of his cuirass, the blade's momentum not even strong enough to scratch the thick armor. Gage spotted one of the guards ducking behind a tent, mentally remembering his location for later. Encased in the enchanted and nigh invulnerable armor, the blacksmith was not actually worried about being harmed in the fracas. It would likely take quite a while to completely scourge the vermin from the camp, but he had confidence in his creation. Gage reached the first tent with the fettered slaves, panting slightly from the effort. The men and women inside cringed, wrapping their arms around their heads in an attempt to protect themselves from this monolith of dark metal. Each of the slaves had a shackle wrapped around one ankle, with all of their chains leading to a central pin that had been drilled deep into the Istani sand. Gage snorted and raised the warhammer, the metal head glowing with a fierceness that rivaled the sun in intensity. Although the set-up might be useful for when the slavers needed to unchain their merchandise quickly, it also made the blacksmith's job very easy. He brought the weapon down with a resounding crash, the noise causing many of the slaves to whimper and flinch. When he raised the hammer the constraining pin had been torn asunder, the metal warped and twisted from both the heat of the hammer and the smithy's brute strength. His voice had always been gravelly and rough, but the greathelm tinged his words with a metallic echo that made him sound almost inhuman. "We are here to free you. Fight for freedom or hide until we do it for you; it matters not." He turned and lumbered out of the tint, grey eyes searching for enemies. He hoped that the slaves were not so downtrodden that they would be useless, but the possibility existed, and he had to hurry to free as many as possible before more of the slaver's guards were summoned to the fray. Gage heard a shout from Kalim and trudged over to the mercenary as quickly as possible, each booming footstep sinking into the sand beneath the metal boots. The sellsword was outside of the tent with the closed flap, staring inside it with incredulity. Gage peered over his shoulder to see that another slave was inside, but it was a creature unlike any the blacksmith had ever seen. The creature was short, definitely less than four feet tall, with a covering of dense, bristly hair. His fingers and toes both ended in sharp claws, and a pair of wicked-sharp tusks protruded from a short, pig-like snout. However, when the blacksmith met the creature's eyes he saw a flicker of intelligence, as well as fear reflected in the dark green depths. The small boar-humanoid was shackled from its wrists and ankles, weakly struggling against its imprisonment. The blacksmith felt a surge of rage at the creature's inhumane treatment. It was even muzzled, thick leather straps keeping its mouth firmly shut. "Stand back." Gage heard a strange, avian-like cry approaching their location as he stepped into the tent, although he was unaware of what could have produced the odd shouts. He swung the hammer twice, each blow slamming into the thick chains and shattering the metal links. Two more heavy strikes and the creature's ankles had been freed as well. Although the blacksmith could not remove the shackles without injuring the creature, at least it would be able to move now. He had lived in both Taras and Striberg, large cities where he had encountered all manners of races and animals, but never before had the blacksmith encountered a being such as this. He wasn't even sure if it could understand the Common tongue, but he had to try anyway. "If you wish to be free, fight." Gage exited the tent quickly, noticing two important facts very quickly. First, a pair of guards in heavy armor was rushing towards him, axes raised high. The creatures were heavily muscled and fast, but it was their heads that was unusual. Instead of a typical humanoid face each of the beasts had the crown of a bird, with a hooked beak and fierce raptor eyes. Their cries were almost deafening from this close, and Gage winced as they shrieked again. Second, behind them was a lumbering juggernaut made of sand, dirt, and stones. Gage felt his blood go cold despite the heat of their surroundings. They have a magic user? That wasn't in the briefing! With a low growl he stepped forward to meet the bird-orc's onslaught, swinging the warhammer with both hands to counter its vicious slash with the head of the axe. The sound of metal striking metal rang out across the encampment, and his opponent opened its maw in a vicious screech. Its brother circled around the blacksmith's side, attempting to surround him, and Gage knew he would have to focus on defeating them before he could concern himself with the issue of the earth elemental. Edited by Mist, Sat Jul 23, 2011 5:28 pm.



Kalim	Sat Jul 23, 2011 10:55 pm Post #9
Posts: 80 Group: Role-Players Member #11,560 Joined: June 1, 2011 Gender Male Race Human Build Lean and muscled Height 5'10 Weight 170 lbs Age 20 Hair Blond Eyes Brown Skin Slightly tanned Name Zachary Firious Alias Kal Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5118908/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5118119/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5118118/1/	He stared at the bizarre creature until Gage arrived, but he heard what sounded like a giant bird of prey screeching, and turned to determine the source of the strange noise. He assumed that the blacksmith was going to free the tusked animal, and so began walking towards the sound. What he saw made his blood freeze. Two things, unlike any race he had seen on this world, were rushing towards him, another two moving to the tent he had just left. Behind them, he saw colossal creation, formed from the earth itself, slowly lumbering towards them, its body not even fully in existence yet. The sound of metal striking metal reached his ears, and he allowed himself a brief moment to glance back and saw that Gage was confronting two of the avian-human hybrids himself. He turned back to the humanoids as they struck. The first axe was aimed high, allowing him to crudely block the attack with his sword. He began strafing, trying to keep the first freak between him and the other. The birdman lashed his axe toward the mercenary horizontally, and he raised his hand, allowing the weapon to bounce off of the magically hardened steel gauntlets. It let out a shrieking pierce, what sounded like a battle-cry, and he flinched, the sound boring into his head and giving birth to a blinding headache. With a shout, he charged forward, swinging his longsword with all his strength. The blade struck the creature's breastplate and bounced off, deflected much harder than he had expected. It flew from his hand and twirled through the air before landing in the sand several feet away, but instead of retreating his kept coming forward, slamming his right fist into the metal, followed by the left. The bird screeched and struck the side of his head with the haft of its axe, and bright flashes of color played across his vision as he fell the the ground in a plume of sand. Dazed, he looked up as the axe was raised high, and flipped his right hand over and opened it so that his palm was open, almost as if he were beckoning the creature. It couldn't be further from the truth. Quickly, he pressed his thumb against the side of the gauntlet, hard, and felt it depress slightly. A snapping sound followed, and the row of spikes that adorned the armor below his wrist fired, flying straight and true. The spikes struck its chest before bouncing off the armor, and it hesitated just long enough for him to lunge at its leg. He wrapped his arms around the muscled limb and tugged, hard enough to cause it to fall to the ground. Seeing a shadow cast from behind him, he threw himself out of the way as another axe came swinging downward, nearly decapitating him. He scrambled over to his sword and retrieved it, panting as he returned to his feet. This was turning out much more difficult than he thought it would, and the earth elemental that was slowly but surely preparing to attack would only make things worse. These enemies needed to be dispatched now, but first he had to get through their blasted armor without getting killed himself.



Yursk	Wed Jul 27, 2011 9:12 am Post #10
Posts: 3 Group: Role-Players Member #11,598 Joined: July 20, 2011 Gender Male Race Tree-Boar Build Stocky Height 3' 5" Weight 80 Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5121423/1/?x=90 Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5102557/1/?x=90#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/single/?p=8014428&t=5121422	The arrival of a second individual, a gray-skinned behemoth much like the shadow of an earth elemental back home, did not improve the little guy’s spirits. When the hammer rose, he was struggling more fiercely than ever. His eyes closed, he felt the stress of the chains and then he felt the blows of the mighty hammer. Then he was flying…he hit the ground…and, quite suddenly…he was free. Well, almost. The force of the hammer had severely weakened the shackles at their hinges and bolts, and some of the sap had cracked just enough that it could be dug out. The behemoth said something as Yursk looked back up in as much awe as fear, and then the behemoth left. The man was fighting something outside, it sounded like - and then, so was the gray behemoth. Snapping out of his shock, Yursk hurriedly began scraping at the sap; it took a few moments, but he was able to break two of the shackles open and pick the lock on a third. Half-enraged, he ripped off the muzzle and hurled it at a random tent wall, snarling. He spent some time on the collar and the last shackle, and then he stood shakily. Crawling under a wall of the tent got him to the back of the camp and he started stumbling across the sand toward a tent better-decorated than any other; it was like a palace compared to the rest, a veritable temple that oozed cool air. Bursting inside, it became immediately apparent just how strong the mage’s magic was. What from the outside seemed to be a king’s tent was inside a spacious and luxurious paradise far larger than the tent’s exterior dimensions would have allowed without magic. Several scantily clad girls off to one side and a couple of nude girls off to the other side hurried to distance themselves from the sudden appearance of what they thought was some kind of monster. Perhaps it was one of the mage’s creatures run amok, or perhaps it was some wild beast that had entered the camp. No sound of battle could be heard from inside the tent, but Yursk cared little for anything outside; all he cared about was the pool of clean, cool, crisp water in the center. He stumbled over to it and fell in, coming up a moment later a little more refreshed. After just a few seconds, he had discovered that he was quickly regaining his strength and his aches were being soothed. By the time he crawled out and shook himself off, though he was nowhere near as strong as he had been prior to his enslavement, he was far healthier and whatever wounds he had sustained were now gone. Pouncing on a nearby plate of roasted chicken, he devoured it in seconds. Finally, he was ready. His belly filled, his wounds healed, and his body (mostly) refreshed, his anger started to well up inside him. Now those fools would see that it wasn’t nice to assault a denizen of the Elemental Plane of Nature… At long last, the elemental had fully formed. It stood over twenty feet tall and was nearly half that wide. Its thick, heavy body made the ground shake as it strode forward, and in just three short paces, it had closed the distance between its master and its master’s enemies. Roaring in expression of its master’s anger, the earth elemental raised two massive fists as a single blunt weapon and let them drop upon the adamantine-clad warrior. The bird-orcs realized only too late that the shadow around them was not of their own making, and they only barely made it out of the way in time. Then, as the elemental rose up once more, they rose just as quickly and descended upon the hammer master with all their fury. Those assaulting the swordsman were not letting up their attack. They thrust and slashed; hacked and swiped; lunged, parried, and blocked only to come at the swordsman again. They were throwing everything they had into the fight, and each stroke of their axes brought down a wave of cold that threatened to cleave their would-be victim in two as much as the axes themselves. They were ignoring the elemental, but even they would not be able to do so for long. As for the wizard, his spell was at last completed. A frigid wind suddenly swept across the endless sands, making even him shiver as it passed, but the wind did not leave the camp. Instead, it began to swirl in a massive circle; everything inside began to grow very cold very quickly, and it wasn’t long before hail began to form high above the combatants. Said hail almost immediately began to drop, forming into balls the size of sling bullets and dagger-like icicles as it fell. In seconds, visibility began to rapidly decrease beneath the storm of wind and ice that had been created - making physical combat exponentially more difficult. Frost forming on the ground and further developing into patches of ice did not help the freedom fighters’ situation, though the elemental didn’t seem to be affected. It noticed, but it merely grunted and readied another attack - this one upon the swordsman. With the battle in full swing and his spells keeping his enemies at bay as much as his guards, he turned to the task of creating a gateway by which to escape in case the battle took a turn for the worse. He pulled out a small, diamond-like object and began to mutter to himself, not wanting to be caught in the middle of an inescapable situation if he could avoid it - and he most certainly could.



Mist	Wed Jul 27, 2011 9:17 pm Post #11
Posts: 14 Group: Role-Players Member #11,590 Joined: July 11, 2011 Gender Female Race Human Build Athletic Height 5'6" Age 20 Hair Light blond Eyes Light brown Skin Pale Name Mist Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5120648/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5119462/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5120645/1/#new	((OOC: Please don't kill me with an NPC. ;-;)) Gage raised one hand to catch a descending axe, the sharpened steel crashing against the lobstered adamantine and failing to pierce the protection. The weapon crashed against his gauntlets, and the blacksmith tightened his grip on the weapon. The avian orc cawed at Gage, but he paid the strange creature no attention, simply focusing on the weapon he had trapped in his vise-like hand. His gray eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light, making the eye-slit in his greathelm blaze. Although he did not possess very strong arcane abilities, he was a master of weapon enchantments and possessed a smattering of spells that could augment his own weapons... and wreck his opponent's. "Pacify Weapon." The ax in his hand bean to glow, the metal morphing to match the smithy's desires. The honed edge of the aze seemed to melt, flattening so that it was useless as a cutting tool. The orc shrieked at the blacksmith, but the damage was done; the axehead had become completely useless against the armored monolith. The orc snarled and threw the weapon away, retreating from the man. Gage barely had the time to smile in victory before a giant shadow obscured the sun above. The smithy looked up, mouth dropping at the size of the earth elemental that stood above him. The avian orcs howled and darted out of the way as it raised both of its fists above its head, its intentions obvious. "Son of a..." He barely managed to lunge out of the way of the boulder-sized fists as they slammed into the ground, sending up huge cloud of sand and dust. Gage snarled and whipped the warhammer around, slamming the metal head of the weapon into the elemental's fists. It did absolutely no damage to the colossal opponent, barely denting its stone-like skin. Gage backed away from the creature, calling on his kernel of arcane power. Magic wrapped around the warhammer, covering it in a shroud of arcane energy. "Let's see how you handle this... Blazing Weapon!" Intense flames burst into life along the shaft of the hammer, wrapping around the weapon in a conflagration of multi-colored flames. More intense than any natural fire, the burning heat of the weapon wreathing around the hammer. The elemental handled it by slamming one massive fist into Gage's torso. The blacksmith grunted as he was lifted from his feet, thrown across the encampment. The enchantments etched into the thick plate blazed into life, protecting the blacksmith from the blow, although it was impossible to completely dull the pain from the heavy strike. The blacksmith crashed to a halt in one of the empty tents, gasping for air. It felt as if every inch of his body had been bruised. He groaned as he raised to his knees, panting heavily. That... That hurt... Coughing and wheezing he stood up straight, the armor scraping together. The armor had not been damaged from the heavy blow, but even the slightest movements were excruciating. Too bad he still had an earth elemental to slay and two orc hybrids to defeat. The elemental currently seemed focused on Kalim, so the blacksmith took this opportunity to charge at the orc who still held his battleaxe. The bird-creature was currently focused on the elemental, cackling madly as it descended on the sellsword. Its amusement was cut short when Gage swung the pointed end of the hammer into the back of the orc's skull. The thick spike smashed through the creature's skull, splattering bone, blood, and brain matter across the sand. The starfire spread from the hammer, consuming the orc's head in a colorful blaze of intense heat. Gage grinned dispassionately as the orc collapsed, kicking its corpse away from himself and turned to the remaining creature. It shrieked piercingly at the smithy, but did not rush to engage the man without a weapon. Gage smirked and turned his attention back towards the hulking earth elemental, brandishing the warhammer as he rushed forward to assist the sellsword. That was before a chilly zephyr swept across the camp, accompanied by a whirling maelstrom of ice and hail. Gage slowed as the dunes beneath his feet began to frost over. Hail pinged off of his armor, the spell failing to find any purchase on the enchanted plates of adamantine. He knew that the sellsword was probably faring far worse than himself under the arcane assault. "Kalim! Take care of the magic-user! I think I can handle this one!" The blacksmith plowed into the back of the earth elemental's legs, swinging the hammer with both hands to slam into its leg with the blazing weapon.



Kalim	Fri Jul 29, 2011 8:41 pm Post #12
Posts: 80 Group: Role-Players Member #11,560 Joined: June 1, 2011 Gender Male Race Human Build Lean and muscled Height 5'10 Weight 170 lbs Age 20 Hair Blond Eyes Brown Skin Slightly tanned Name Zachary Firious Alias Kal Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5118908/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5118119/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5118118/1/	Kal spared a few precious seconds from watching the bird orcs to look over to see Gage, apparently attempting to take on the colossal earth elemental all by himself. He winced as the man was struck by a massive fist, knocking him back, but he knew that the armor the blacksmith wore would, at least, keep him from breaking any bones, even if he suffered pain. For a moment he was torn between the two - three, really - threats. The axemen were still before him, but single combat with such a monster would be difficult, even clad in adamantine. The question was answered for him, and it was neither of the two choices he had considered. "Take care of the magic-user!" Easier said... The fingers of his free hand, the one not holding his sword, curled, resisting the stiffness that his steel gauntlets granted. Glancing over to where the mage stood, he could see him still chanting. If the wretch threw something else at them, he would be very, very upset. With a last look at the orcs, he sheathed his sword on his back and ran past them, ignoring their sounds of surprise. As he charged towards the man, a sudden chill passed him by, surprising him so much that it almost made him stop in his tracks. But he knew that the other two were right behind him, and so he continued on, and when the first rounded chunk of hail smacked him right in the head, he muttered a string of violent curses that would make even a seasoned sailor's eyes widen in shock. A small, well-balanced dagger was removed from within his right bracer, where he liked to hide it, and with a throw that he had practiced a thousand times, the knife whipped towards the mage before sinking into the spellcaster's lower leg - not the heart, which had been Kal's intended target. It would have to do. As the man grimaced in pain, reaching down to remove the offending blade, he was tackled head on, and they both landed rougly in the sand. Kal thrust a hand into his cloak, fingers clumsily digging around until he found the small pocket he had stitched inside. He clawed out a handful of soft material that he used for padding and removed the small vial within, relieved that it hadn't shattered while he was being tossed about. As the mage began to rise, the mercenary slammed the bottle into his face, the contents spewing out over him. Along with the cuts the magic-user received, the liquid would also sap away at his magical reserve, draining some of the energy necessary to cast spells. Who would've thought the thing would actually be useful? I guess fighting that wyvern was worth it. He lifted his right hand, preparing to perform a hopefully lethal punch, but his arm was grabbed from behind and he was flung back. He tumbled over his head before his mad roll ended, and looked up to see the two birdbrains bearing down on him, axes in hand. He didn't give them a chance to attack. Ignoring the various stinging scrapes he was quickly obtaining from the slashing hail, Kal shoved the axe aside and slammed his shoulder into the first one before spinning into a high kick that smashed into the other's chest - which managed to knock it staggering back a few paces, along with making his foot hurt. He stepped forward, knowing that the previos creature must be coming towards him from behind, and he heard a ripping sound that made his already angry eyes obtain a deadly gleam. His cloak was in tatters, the chill wind brushing through the gaping tears. He had just had the thing fixed up, too! He had to pay money out of his own pocket to get it patched together, and now the stupid beast had cut it to shreds again. Edited by Kalim, Fri Jul 29, 2011 8:41 pm.



Yursk	Tue Aug 2, 2011 9:29 am Post #13
Posts: 3 Group: Role-Players Member #11,598 Joined: July 20, 2011 Gender Male Race Tree-Boar Build Stocky Height 3' 5" Weight 80 Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5121423/1/?x=90 Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5102557/1/?x=90#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/single/?p=8014428&t=5121422	((If Kal can get rid of the "bird brains", he should be able to help you with the elemental. The mage will escape in the end...which makes for more excitement in the future. )) One of the most terrifying hunters on the Elemental Plane of Nature was not a beholder or a basilisk, nor even a phoenix twisted by powerful dark energies. No, it was a bulette: a predator that literally ate everything. Very few existed on Yursk’s home plane, but each one had vast territory that went unchallenged by pretty much anything that breathed. Faster on the ground than a Tree-Boar, stronger than a dire bear, and covered in nigh indestructible armor plating, a single bulette could easily wipe out a small army of heavily armored soldiers. They were a cross between an armadillo and a snapping turtle, vicious, and their ivory teeth could pierce steel plate armor easily. In short, they were monsters even among the monsters of the planes despite being one of the smaller creatures among those considered huge by human standards. None on the Prime Material had encountered a bulette before, but Yursk most certainly had. In his time on his home plane, he had encountered two - one of them several times - and he had felt absolute terror every single time. He had once been possessed of a pair of very beautiful curved horns atop his head - horns he was extremely proud of. A bulette had devoured them and ripped the stumps from his head. Now, there were scars overlain with hair where once his beautiful horns had grown. Despite his terror, he could not help but feeling rage, horror, and extreme sadness that had led to a deep depression for some time. He had eventually gotten over it, but it had been the worse thing by far that had ever happened to him - until he had come to the Prime Material. It was that same rage that now filled him as he dashed out of the tent to face a half-dozen avian orcs rushing toward the source of feminine screams. The loss of his beautiful horns had come back to him in full and he simply added that rage to that which currently filled him, verily transforming him into the very monster that these creatures seemed to believe he was. How dare they chain him up, dehydrate him, starve him, muzzle him…how DARE they, mere humans, challenge a Tree-Boar?! He had heard of humans before, had heard of their evil and their menacing power over nature and the elements, but he had thought them mere myths to scare blink dogs and dryads. Now, though…now, he fully understood why they were so fearsome. Granted, he had been caught off-guard by the sudden (and quite violent) discovery of a path into another plane of existence - but he would not have that disadvantage this time. He barreled head-first into the gut of one of the creatures, sending it flying back into its mates. As he landed back on his feet, he darted to the left and slashed the knees of another creature to ribbons, making it scream. He winced, hesitating, and had to dart aside as an attack came. He was just barely able to avoid the blade of the avian orc’s axe, but the flat of it send him flying. He landed on his feet several paces back and launched himself forward again, leaping to slash at the eyes of one of the creatures. He gouged them out and then leaped to another’s face to do the same. Using momentum and sheer enraged strength, he drove the creature head-first into the ground, ripped its beak almost completely out of its face, and slashed the thing’s throat wide open. Yursk leapt aside to avoid a pair of attacks and snapped back like a slingshot, ripping out one of the creature’s throats with his teeth and slashing the throat of the other. Then he leaped and slammed his skull into that of one of the remaining orcs, knocking it out. He barreled past the two as he saw the mage, knowing full well that he was responsible for having made the chains so strong the second time. He had to be, for he was doing something to his rescuers with the elements. It was an element he did not recognize, but then, he had lived on the Elemental Plane of Nature his entire life. He was not used to the climate of the tundra. The mage was admittedly surprised by the sudden attack. The swordsman showed remarkable ability, but it mattered little. He would not survive this fight; if the mage himself did not kill the swordsman, the elemental would. And if both heroes survived…well, he’d just have to deal with them in a more subtle manner later one. One thing was certain at the moment, however: he was not used to being so recklessly barreled into. He was no melee combatant; it was why he had opened the portal. It had appeared just as the swordsman had tackled him, and confused avian orcs had darted out to aid him as he knew they would. But they had gone the wrong way, and now he glanced over to see them getting their rears handed to them by… Fascinating… That was the only viable word he could think of to describe the spectacle. Here was a creature as short as a gnome, maybe shorter, easily besting his finest warriors - deadly creations derived from numerous cross-breeding experiments of a strongly magical nature. If he could get rid of the swordsman, he would focus on the creature next…but he didn’t have the luxury. The creature had apparently recognized him as the instrument of his enslavement and was now bolting past the remaining two guards - straight for the mage. The mage scowled, not liking this, but he couldn’t deny that he was as intrigued as he was irritated. This battle had already lasted far too long and he could not allow it to continue. When the avian orcs distracted the swordsman, it gave him just enough time to cast Haste. He suddenly moved like lightning, quickly running as fast as the creature and dodging its initial lunge. He found himself almost instantly near the portal and called out to his guards, summoning more than a dozen from the portal. They leaped out and he sent them forth to distract the swordsman and the creature. Then he turned toward the swordsman with a devilish smirk and a look in his eyes that clearly displayed his intention to continue this battle at a future time - most likely when he was on the mage’s turf. He stepped through the portal, and it closed just a moment later - preventing any chance of pursuit. Yursk was most perplexed when his quarry suddenly vanished only to reappear elsewhere. Oh, it wasn’t that he had teleported; Yursk had seen him move as fast as Yursk. But the move had not been one that pleased Yursk, especially as he whirled about with a snarl. If there was one thing that could be said about the Tree-Boar, it was that there was little fear in him. He had shown that fear only out of desperation, but now that fear was completely gone. It had been replaced by obvious rage, and that rage gave him a power that was undeniably fearsome. As he stared at the oncoming tide of monstrous entities that dared to stand against him, leaving the swordsman to aid his friend against the elemental, the look in his eyes left no room for argument: this fight was his. ((You can deal with the elemental as you like. Just please don't kill it in one post. I specifically made it so that it wasn't just some random, easy opponent...but the ice storm only lasts for a couple posts, doesn't it? In which case, that could end post after next if you want...))



Mist	Wed Aug 3, 2011 7:09 pm Post #14
Posts: 14 Group: Role-Players Member #11,590 Joined: July 11, 2011 Gender Female Race Human Build Athletic Height 5'6" Age 20 Hair Light blond Eyes Light brown Skin Pale Name Mist Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5120648/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5119462/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5120645/1/#new	hammer sank into the rocks on the elemental's knee, the flames coursing over the weapon and melting the earthy flesh of the monster. Gage smiled underneath his greathelm as the cosmic flames spread over its lower leg, searing the rocks, dirt, and sand that served the elemental as flesh. The summon roared in pain, its voice as deafening and rocky as an avalanche as it spun towards the blacksmith. Gage pulled his weapon back and took several steps back from the elemental, holding the warhammer in a two-handed defensive posture. Although his primary occupation, the man had spent several years training with the Istani army while he learned the intricacies of the forging process that the desert dwellers had perfected. Although he would never be as quick on his feet as a true knight or paladin, Gage's armor and brute strength still made him a formidable opponent, and he made sure to practice in the Kirsikka Enterprises training area with some of her guards and enforcers to keep his combat skills honed. The elemental raised one massive hand, bringing it down towards the blacksmith with deadly intent. He heaved himself to one side to avoid the blow, barely managing to avoid the heavy attack. The ground underneath his feet shook from the impact, making Gage stumble backwards from the elemental. Before it could withdraw the limb he hurriedly ran forward, the adamantine creaking and clanking. He slammed the enchanted warhammer into the elemental's fist with a frenzied cry, the shifting flames one again leaving a blistering crater on the summon's skin. The blacksmith's smile faded slightly as he realized his attacks were probably mere annoyances to the giant being. It would take him forever to destroy the elemental if he could only destroy a portion of it at a time. His mind flashed threough all of the weapon and armor enchantments he knew, but he doubted if any of them would be potent enough to do any lasting harm to the behemoth. Blazing Weapon was one of his most potent spells, the rainbow flames as intense and unquenchable as the stars above, and he was still having trouble harming the elemental. His distraction proved to be a huge mistake, as his opponent chose that moment to swing one of its boulder-sized fists into his side. Gage cried out as the adamantine plate slammed into his own ribs, and the blacksmith swore that he heard at least one bone snap from the blow. He managed to keep on his feet this time, crouching to lower his center of balance and skidding across the sand. The elemental roared victoriously, its cry making the entire encampment shake. Gage was still recovering from the assault when he saw the elemental slam its fingers into the dunes, burrowing underneath the shifting surface as if it wasn't even there. This doesn't look good... The beast hauled out a massive boulder that was easily five feet across, heaving it over its head and glaring at the blacksmith with its glowing eyes. He swallowed nervously, raising to his feet and preparing to dodge the earthen missile... when the avian-like orc chose to strike. The odd beast sprang onto Gage's back, heavily muscled arms wrapping around his helm and effectively blinding the man. Gage cried out and flailed as he the bird pecked at his helmet with a beak that was much stronger than it appeared, each stab accompanied by a hollow ringing that threatened to deafen him. The blacksmith roared and twisted the hammer, swinging it over his shoulder as if he intended to strike himself with the spike. Instead it pierced the center of the orc's back, the sharp point glowing for a moment before it pierced the cuirass. The avian orc screamed as the cosmic flames spread out from the strike, searing its flesh and causing its armor to glow from the heat. The creature released Gage's head, allowing him to peer out through the visor just in time to see the elemental throw its rocky projectile. "Oh sh-" The expletive was cut off as Gage dropped to the ground, his injured torso screaming in protest as he slammed into the ice-encrusted sand. The giant clump of dirt and rock sailed just above his back, slamming into the avian orc instead before it had time to react The momentum of the projectile carried it halfway across the encampment, before slamming into one of the slaver's tents, forcing the structure to collapse. A bloody steak was left across the packed dirt, the only remaining sign of the orc that had been caught in the attack. The blacksmith groaned and staggered to his feet once more, his entire frame feeling as if it had been beaten with cudgels. If he got close enough to the elemental to attack he would be within the reach of its deadly strength, but if he tried to keep his distance it would just keep hurling boulders at him. I think I'd rather die fighting than dodging missiles... He roared as loud as he could and charged at the earth elemental, holding the warhammer over both hands.



Kalim	Mon Aug 8, 2011 6:39 pm Post #15
Posts: 80 Group: Role-Players Member #11,560 Joined: June 1, 2011 Gender Male Race Human Build Lean and muscled Height 5'10 Weight 170 lbs Age 20 Hair Blond Eyes Brown Skin Slightly tanned Name Zachary Firious Alias Kal Link to Inventory http://imythess.com/topic/5118908/1/ Link to Alt Registry http://imythess.com/topic/5118119/1/#new Link to Extended Description http://imythess.com/topic/5118118/1/	"Die, die, die!" His sword slammed again and again against the orc's breastplate, not letting up the intensity of the attack and forcing the creature back with each blow. It swung its axe at him and he barely ducked beneath it; it was so close that he was certain he had lost a few hairs to the honed blade. He rose and kept up the attack. He was tired of looking at the thing's ugly face, tired of hearing its shrieking, headache-inducing screams, and most of all, he was just tired of fighting. Either it was going to die, or he was. With one last thrust, the tip of the blade pierced through the battered breasplate and into the flesh below. He was so surprised that the blade actually went through that he staggered forward a few steps, pushing the sword deeper in before he withdrew it, letting the creature fall to the ground. The sand beneath quickly turned red with its blood. He stood over it triumphantly, his breath harsh and ragged. "How's that, you stupid...ahhhh!" The axe scraped along his left arm, and fresh blood quickly coated it. It stung like hell, and he turned to see the other orc standing there. Another one...another one... "You know what?" he said, glaring at the thing. "Forget you." And with that, he ran around the thing and towards the colossal creation that Gage was engaged in combat with. It was a sad day indeed when he would rather fight an earth elemental than some weird hybrid, but he was just sick of the thing. As he ran he caught sight of that strange creature that had been chained in the tent, locked in battle, but he was too caught up in his own fight to pay it much heed, nor the sudden disappearance of the spellcaster. All his attention went towards the massive beast born of sand and stone that rose up before him. If his sword had so much difficulty piercing armor, then he knew that it would be completely useless against the monster. Gage's hammer was the only thing with the strength to even put a dent in it, but if he left the blacksmith to go toe-to-toe with it, the man would get tired eventually. He had to do what he could to help. "Ill distract it!" he shouted, before stopping to pause. How exactly was he planning on doing that, now? Whatever. Roaring, he wrapped both hands around the hilt of his sword and swung, hard, at the elemental's back. The blade struck it and created sparks before it flew back. He hadn't even scratched it, but there the blade was slightly warped from where it had struck, and he muttered a curse. After getting the thing repaired, too! The elemental didn't even look, just threw a massive fist back at him that he just barely managed to jump out of the way. There was a heartbeat's pause, and then as usual, he did what he usually did in situations like this: act without thinking. He jumped on top of the massive fist, arms wrapping around the thing's "wrist". They weren't even enough to go all the way around it, and he was barely able to maintain his tentative hold as the elemental lifted its hand from the ground. That...probably wasn't a very good idea.



1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)

Join the millions that use us for their forum communities. Create your own forum today. Learn More · Register Now
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Istan Desert · Next Topic »

Pages:
1
2

Chat Box