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Trogs and Turnips; MkII
Topic Started: June 1, 2012, 12:36 am (300 Views)
Jester
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October 2010 MOTM!
The summer sun had beat down upon the Murelhellous. The double masted vestal road high on the summer waters as waves crashed against it’s hull. The Ship was sailing down along the western side of the Empire of Corith, the voyage taking the ship well beyond sight of any land. As the Murelhellous sailed along the frothing sea, the sky began to darken and winds became unruly. The waves crashed form firmly against the bow of the ship, the subtle swaying of the ship becoming more noticeable, choppy, cohesive. The ship, hearty and stocked with well seasoned sailors pressed on though, determined to breach the other side of the storm. For two days they sailed in search of such an end, but to no avail.. The vestal, soaked ad near waterlogged, finally succumbed to the wrath of the sea and the Murelhellous was swallowed up by the waves.
But amongst the passengers upon the doomed vestal, that were not destined to share the watery fate of the ship that bore them just yet. During the time when the last of the masts snapped and the hull broke, the content of the ship; both cargo and passengers were flung into the sea. Of those flung into the unforgiving ocean, fate would have it that a few would see the sun once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun had lowered towards the horizon and night had begun to approach. The sounds of waves washing against the shore as bodies and debris laid motionless on the sandy ground. Some of the wreckage had washed ashore of a beach, the sandy ground leading up to tropical looking trees just off of the beach head, and the night was approaching as the sounds of the world around began to come alive in it's dawn. In the waning light, some of the bodies among the wreckage began to stir.
The Laughing Gnome
I'm a little tea pot short and stout
Posted ImageHere is my handle and here is my....other....handle...?Posted Image
Oh bother I'm a sugar bowl

Ravins of a Mind
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Vanity&Ecstasy
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Thief of Hearts
Have you ever seen a dog try and stay in one place on a boat? If you haven't it's quite the spectacle. Ever since they boarded the boat Blanc had been sending quite the plethora of dissatisfied emotions through their bond. Of course Varren did all he could to make his canine companion happy but, he also couldn't help but laugh a little each time the hound lost its balance.

When the storm came and Varren was knocked from the boat he was uncertain as to whether he would reach land or be attacked by a creature of the sea first. His worries soon vanished though as he blacked out being tossed wave to wave.

When he awoke the bitter and crunchy taste of sand filled his mouth and an absurd amount of kelp clung to his body. With a quick shake off and an overly salty mouth washing from the ocean Varren began to look around his place of landing.
Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character
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Jorlon on a boat could have been something somewhat entertaining, had it not mad him edgy, sick, and just about every other uncomfortable thing one could imagine. When he wasn't vomiting over the edge of the vessel, he was biting the heads off of anyone who got close enough to say something to him.

Things got much wore however and when the unfortunates sailed into a storm everything went downhill very quickly. The sea in all it's anger swallowed the ship and sent many to a watery grave...

Jorlon awoke sometime later, tucked under several pieces of flotsam; now just broken chunks of debris. Assuming he'd used not only his lovely ability to float in water to a degree Let them call me fat now! but most likely having clung to some of the flotsam and jetsam brought about by the wreck, he'd survived. Not all was well though. When at last he managed to get to his feet and begin dusting himself off, Jorlon quickly learned that he'd lost his backpack and all it's contents; it as far worse however, he'd lost not only his means for surviving, he'd lost his means for defending himself; primary weapon and shield, along with 2 of his three javelins: gone. Anger welled up in him, and though he was unlikely to admit it, a bit of fear was present as well.

He reached inside his armor and pulled his flask from the inner folds of his clothing. Annoyance levels increased, it was empty. With a heavy sigh, he returned it to it's place and instead began to look about, kicking over debris and hunks of wreckage trying to find any survivors and more importantly, something for he himself to survive with. Javelin at the ready, he clung tightly to the only thing he had to defend himself with, and continued searching.
 
Dream
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Mew?
Climbing trees and scaling walls were simple feats when compared with what Arren was currently trying to accomplish. The halfling spent the majority of her life on solid land, in fact, she had never been on a boat before that trip. It wasn't the constant motion that got to her, no, it was the inability to find a proper escape route. There was no escape on that vessel. She was completely stuck with no means of getting away when things went wrong, because they inevitably would.

Arren still doesn't know what she was doing on that ship. She knew what brought her there, but she wasn't sure she much liked it. Actually, she knew she didn't. She was being used, at least, that was how she viewed it. She was angry, and frustrated, but mostly, desperate for a way out. Solid ground was sounding more and more like a faraway dream, one she would do just about anything to reach. At least, that was how she felt in the few moments before the storm struck.

The next thing she knew, Arren was waking up on a beach, surrounded by the broken remains of the ship. She sat up slowly, not really sure what was going on. Something about a storm while they were at sea. As if waking from a panicky dream, she looked around. When she didn't find her backpack on her back, or by her side, her fear increased. She reached a shaky hand for her crossbow, only to find her hand met with nothing but air. On the verge of a breakdown at this point, she reached across her body for her dagger. Gone. All of her weaponry, gone. The only things she had left of her best friend, gone. She searched the rest of her person, finding that the only possessions she had was her coil of rope, her waterskin, and her tools. She breathed a small sigh of relief at that. Her father's tools were still safe. It was short-lived relief as she recalled that everything else she treasured in life was washed away. With that in mind, she searched the beach for any signs of her lost possessions.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Jester
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October 2010 MOTM!
The sound of the Lapping of waves against the sand of the beach was something almost sickening at that moment. all three of the survivor's bodies felt like they had been trampled by a angry bull. Their muscles ached when they moved and their heads burned and pounded.

As Varren took a moment to take in his location he was able to see what was left of the debris he had washed ashore with. His canine companion was nowhere to be seen. He noted movement to the left, farther down the beach. what could be another survivor, or a scavenger (man or beast) come to loot the wreckage. They where yet too far down to properly identify, only that it was moving. What had washed ashore seemed to be spread over a great span of the beach. They ship must have not been too far off from the island when it sank, if this much debris had made it to land. There was a bit of debris around him but most of the larger bits seemed to be down the beach about 70-80 feet.

Jorlon soon realized as he went to get up and search for methods of survival that two things would cause a problem with his attempts. Firstly as he went to stand his head pounded firmly making it hard to make out distant details beyond that of perhaps 30 feet from himself at that moment. And maybe the more pressing second matter, was the fact that he was actually tangled in some ropes that was latched to the debris which he had floated in with. Granted it was those rope that allowed him to survive in his heavy armor in the sea rather than let it drag him to the bottom of the ocean, but now it was little more than a hindrance as it made it hard for him to move. Oh and to make matters worse, his flask had been bent in the commotion of the wreck.

Getting to her feat Arren also had the misfortune of finding out the tole the ordeal had had on her body. Though luckily she at least was not tangled in a mess of ropes and could still manage to see properly so soon after waking. Looking about the beach she didn't see any sign of her belongings, though a reddish orange light from the setting sun reflected off of something on the sand just at the waters edge. There was also movement she noted from off to her side, looking to be a humanoid of some sort.

The Laughing Gnome
I'm a little tea pot short and stout
Posted ImageHere is my handle and here is my....other....handle...?Posted Image
Oh bother I'm a sugar bowl

Ravins of a Mind
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Vanity&Ecstasy
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Varren crouching low to avoid the eyes of whatever could be further up the way begins searching the nearby debris for anything of use whether it be food or materials for a shelter. Blanc was trained well, he could handle himself for a time.
Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character
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Dream
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Mew?
Arren looked around before spotting something near the water's edge. She went to take a step forward, and nearly fell. Every muscle in her body protested any sort of movement. She shook her head slightly, and tried again, this time able to move in somewhat of a normal manner. She caught sight of some sort of movement to her side, and made a mental note to keep an eye on it. Friend or foe, she wasn't sure yet, but the priority at the moment was to find some sort of weapon-like substance to defend and feed herself. Even a broken piece of metal would do. She made her way towards the sparkling object, and bent down to see what it was.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Jorlon came to the sudden realization that nothing would be as easy at it had first seemed. His savior, a bunch of tangled rope attached to debris, now hindered his ability to move. "Damn it all!" He shouted, his head pounding with a furious and unrelenting pain. If the start of this unfortunate day was any indication, (as if being there in the place wasn't a strong enough indication) the rest of the day couldn't possibly be much better. He struggled to get free from his bindings, trying to thread himself through the knots and gaps in the rope that held him.
 
Jester
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October 2010 MOTM!
Attempting as best he could to remain unseen Varren moved towards the debris to investigate it. However despite his attempts he seemed unable to find anything that he believed to be of use to him beyond simple possible wood for burning, which with as soaked as it was on the tarred pieces would be any good for that, which would create a fair amount of smoke if burnt.

Arren in her need to find protection while fighting off the better part of a panic attack clung to the one hope that seemed to be forthcoming as she made her way to the shimmering object in the water. Reaching down to pick it up it was an object that several people outside of her 'particular' line of work might not be overly familiar with. They where a pair of wire cutters, the thick scissor'ish pair of clamps were used to cut through wires. the portion that was used to to actually cut with was dull and unpolished. The gleam that had caught her eye was where the wrapping on one of the handle had been tron off, and the iron handle (which was as the rest of the cutters as it was one metal unit) had been scraped smooth and a slight shine that reflected the bright red sun setting over the horizon. Perhaps not the savior weapon she had hoped for, but possibly heavy enough to use somewhat as one, or perhaps something of a different application.

Working on freeing himself the dwarf's progress was slow, he would loosen one knot only to find he was tangling it into another. It would seem that the ordeal at hand would be difficult for him to finesse his way out of.
The Laughing Gnome
I'm a little tea pot short and stout
Posted ImageHere is my handle and here is my....other....handle...?Posted Image
Oh bother I'm a sugar bowl

Ravins of a Mind
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Vanity&Ecstasy
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Thief of Hearts
Well this was useless. All the wood he found was just soaked to the bone the best he'd manage with that is to make smoke signals which at this point wouldn't exactly pan out seeing as he had lost his flint and steel.

What caught his attention while searching the wreckage though was strange shouts. Perking up he attempted to determine which direction it was coming from though, even he realized just how pointless that was going to be. Instead he decided to whistle and while it wouldn't be as powerful as his actual signal whistle it might be heard at least a little ways away.
Dragon Force: Quest for the Clutch: OOC, Character
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Dream
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Mew?
Arren knelt down to pick up the shiny object, which turned out to be a wire cutter. Not the most helpful thing she could have hoped for in the circumstances, but it was better than nothing. Attempting to avoid getting soaked yet again, she stood quickly. She looked around, remembering the figure she had seen not long ago in the distance. Not really having anything better to do, she moved away from the water before turning in the direction of the figure, intending to get a little closer to find out what it was. She was not planning on making contact yet; she had no idea if it was a friend out there, or someone who would take advantage of the small halfling in the middle of nowhere with nothing but dulled wire cutters and a length of rope as means for protecting herself.
I'll whisper in your ear,
You are mine, and you will never have to be alone.
And when I pull you near,
You'll know I love you like I never loved anyone.
So let me be the one to lift you up,
I'll carry you home.
'Cause now I'm here to keep you safe,
And to catch you when you fall.
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Struggling still, Jorlon found himself tangled ever more by the damned ropes he was entangled in. "Damn it all!" He shouted, a moment of ignorance taking over him, forgetting just how dangerous it could be to shout and alert things to your location when stuck in such a troublesome spot. Mustering all his might, he tried once again to free himself from the ropes this time saying to tell with finesse and relying instead on brute force and his teeth; yes, his teeth.
 
Jester
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October 2010 MOTM!
The repetition of the phrase did nothing to easy the dwarf's entanglement. The tangled mess of ropes clung desperately onto him as if long knotted fingers. The cords of hemp creaking at his protests but not giving way. (DM feeling sorry for all the shitty rolls) however the thought that had eluded him up until that point appeared for him. His javelin had for itself a medal tip, he could slice away the rope with a little work with it. [I normally do not do that but this intro could take FOREVER at the given rate of progression and dear Christ think for a second twistytop. >< ]

The whistle didn't go very far seeming to be drowned out by the waves. The air was beginning to get more chilled and the druid was still quite wet. the choices on actions where only so grand, and though the air was cooling it was still a muggy heat to the place. There wasn't likely the risk of him freezing to death just that moment.

As Arren approached towards the figure it wasn't hard to tell that it was a shorter stocky person even from the distance in the low light. The general height and weight would lead her most likely to believe it was a dwarf. maybe it was one of the rare water dwarves come to grant her liquorice treats! No, that's not likely the case, however it was certainly a dwarf, and seemed to have a something bulky about it.
Edited by Jester, July 20, 2012, 10:03 pm.
The Laughing Gnome
I'm a little tea pot short and stout
Posted ImageHere is my handle and here is my....other....handle...?Posted Image
Oh bother I'm a sugar bowl

Ravins of a Mind
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That Butler
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Bad Jew
This roleplay is closed due to inactivity or by request of the Game Master. Please contact one of the Roleplaying Moderators to have it reinstated.

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