CriticalFumble.net Forums  

Go Back   CriticalFumble.net Forums > Play-by-Post Games > The Inquisitives

The Inquisitives Rhakir's PBEM game.

Reply
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
  #1  
Old 02-12-2012, 02:16 PM
Rhakir's Avatar
Rhakir Rhakir is offline
Eerily quiet...
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Where I belong...
Posts: 1,416
Rhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant future
Arrow Inquisitives - Turn 4

Hawksley, Wireburn, and Anselm

“Anselm d’Cannith,” the man in the middle said with obvious distaste as he recognised the artificer. He was a robust man in his mid-forties, with dark hair slicked back in the Karrnathi style, a touch of grey at his temples. His face was sharp-featured with a long, bent nose and prominent cheekbones. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he shrugged back his sleeves. His well-fed middle strained against his pouch-lined belt. A dagger seemed to be the only weapon on his person, but he gave the impression of power and menace that had nothing to do with martial prowess.

“Vhere is it?” the man demanded in a thick Karrnathi accent. “Vhat have you done vith it? I demand to know!” The man on the right stopped fiddling with the lock and seemed to be readying himself, though he didn’t seem to have any weapons at hand. The man on the left reached across for the sword at his side, but didn’t draw just yet as he waited to see what would happen next.

Anselm stepped in and raised his voice, “Who in the nine hells are you and what do you think you’re doing?!“

“I am Drago Kessler, Archduke of the Gefroren Märze,” the man replied venomously. “I am here to retrieve zat vhich you haf stolen! Give me back my formulae, you wretched thief!”

The two men in leather armour stepped forward protectively, the one on the left drawing his longsword slowly. The one on the right held out his right hand and a glowing blade seemed to flicker to life in his hand. The soulknife tilted his head to the side, studying Hawksley in particular...

Anselm kept his voice direct and forceful. He was talking to the archduke only. “I have NOT stolen anything, all that I do here is my own work. If I were to call The Watch, who would be caught in the act of breaking and entering as well as theft? So at this point, you might want to calm down and stop this. I have a feeling we are looking for the same people.”

“You deny it!” Drago spat, pointing accusingly at Anselm. His face was apoplectic with rage. “Zey said you vould proclaim innocence. I haf no patience for dis! Cripple d’Cannith, zhen kill ze other one und dizmantle ze vorforged. Ve shall zee vhat he has to zay about zis vhen he vatches hiz friends die!”

Anselm still responding to the blustering official, “Who is they? Someone told you I would have your formulas, whatever those are. You show up the day after my lab is burglarized and they stole my formulas.”

Unfortunately, the soulknife and the swordsman continued their advance, unmoved by Anselm’s words.

[Initiative!]

23 Hawksley
Hawksley steeled his nerves and used Widen Talent and fired off a Telekinetic Grip attack on all of their foes. The effects were different for each man, but they all felt the power of the psychic attack.

18 Soulknife
The man with the psychic blade seemed to slow in his advance shaking off the effect of Hawksley’s psychic onslaught, but gritted his teeth and launched himself the last bit of distance to reach Wireburn. His shimmering blade of energy seemed to literally bounce off of the armour plating. Unfortunately, this put him practically face to face with the implacable Wireburn...

17 Anselm
Anselm spoke his infusion rapidly and unlike the previous infusion, exerted an effort of will to produce the results faster.

12 Drago
Drago staggered under the Telekinetic Grip that Hawksley manifested. He shook his head to clear it, then drew something slender from his robes. With a flick of his wrist, he pointed the tip of the wand at the artificer, sending a wave of force forward.

Anselm shook off the wand’s effects, very aware that he would likely be targeted again...

10 Wireburn
Wireburn loomed over his foes, grasping his adamantine great blade in two hands. His steam valves whistled like a locomotive, and his eye crystals glowed red. This is what he was made for.

His first attack was an overhead downward blow, cutting through the Soul Knife’s defenses. The return swipe a horizontal cut on the backswing aimed at the swordsman. The manoeuvre was devastatingly effective. The sword sliced clean through the soulknife’s armour and chest, and the follow through caught the swordsman off guard, tearing a rent in that man’s armour as well...

7 Swordsman
The man with the sword also staggered under the force of Hawksley’s telekinetic attack, as well as the unexpected hit from Wireburn’s massive sword. He intended to slip around the warforged and attack the man in the greatcoat and tri-cornered hat, but slowed his advance since the man didn’t seem to be posing an obvious threat yet. He decided to flank Wireburn instead, bringing his sword around in a wide arc. The blade drew sparks as it slid across the adamantine plating, but didn’t even leave a scratch...

Round 2:

23 Hawksley
Hawksley deftly sidestepped and drove his rapier at the soulknife with an oblique lunge. His blade bit true, entering through a chink in the layers of leather armour near the man’s kidney.

18 Soulknife
The soulknife reeled back from Wireburn’s initial attack, looking down at the gash across his armour that was now showing exposed and torn flesh beneath. He then felt the bite of a rapier thrust through his lower right back, where Hawksley managed to manoeuvre while he was distracted. He felt cold seeping into his bones; not a good sign. With a glance over his shoulder at Drago, the man threw caution to the wind and made a leap for the door...

[Rh: AoO for all three (Wb, HBQ, & An).]

Hawksley lunged forward in a daring flèche as his opponent sought to escape, his rapier biting even deeper this time. [OOC: 12 points of damage]

17 Anselm

12 Drago

10 Wireburn

7 Swordsman

***
__________________
Pessimism is just an ugly word for pattern recognition...

Necessity is the mother of moral reletivism...
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old 02-12-2012, 02:19 PM
Rhakir's Avatar
Rhakir Rhakir is offline
Eerily quiet...
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Where I belong...
Posts: 1,416
Rhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant future
Default June and Mardu

By the time they made it outside again, the sun was well on its way towards the horizon. A rumble sounded unceremoniously in June’s midsection. Time to satisfy her appetite, she thought to herself with a smile...

“So, my epicurian friend, what shall we do for dinner?” She cocked her head at him, thoughtfully. “Is there a place near the orphanage? A way to combine ‘business’ with pleasure, as it were? Or does the orphanage close it’s doors after dark? Should we go there first?” She smiled to herself. Companionship...it felt good after being alone so much of the last three years..

She stopped their slow amble as things that had been building inside her all afternoon finally came to a head. She moved to stand in front of him, looking up into his face. She didn’t speak, she just looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally she touched his face, much like she had on the blind man’s dock, all those years ago. “I hope never again to have to go through the pain of watching you fade into the distance.”

“Junie, I...” Mardu was caught completely off guard. His hand closed over hers, squeezing gently. “I don’t want that either,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on hers.

June could see something behind his eyes, some inner struggle he was having with himself, but he didn’t show anything beyond those blue depths. Try as she might, she couldn’t figure out what it was. And he didn’t really give her a chance to think on it further when he bent down to kiss her...

She could have sworn her heart stopped beating for a moment.

The whole world contracted to that small point of contact when his lips met hers. For three years she’d thought about him, remembering that one night of adventure, risk, romance and loss. Remembering, especially, the kiss in the moonlit swamp. This was different, though. His lips weren’t shy and surprised this time. And hers weren’t as inexperienced as they had been then.

Apparently he hadn’t forgotten that time, either, as the kiss deepened and hardened, fingers twining their way into her hair.. It may have taken them to places there was no going back from, right then...except for a loud clearing of a male throat...

“Ahem.”

Mardu pulled away with a jerk. Mindful, suddenly, that they were on a public thoroughfare. June didn’t turn to look right away. Focusing on the sensations tingling on her lips and the feelings tingling through her heart. He still held her (and she was gratified to feel his heart beating almost as hard as hers right then) so she had to crane a little to see behind her.

The disgruntled looking dwarf stood with his arms folded, glaring at them. His whole demeanor practically reeking of outrage and insult. It took her a moment to realize that he had a badge on over his well worn leather armor. She couldn’t really tell any rank from the unfamiliar insignia.

Before either of them could speak, the taciturn dwarf ‘harumphed’ and stomped into the entry to the watch headquarters that they had just come out of, tossing a muttered, “I hope you are not on duty right now, sergeant” behind him.

“Who?” June began, but stopped short. The dwarfs exit had revealed a youngish seeming orc woman standing there with a covered basket and an expression of absolute horror on her face. She turned to look up at Mardu, whose own face was approximating the wooden qualities of the watch door as he looked back at the woman.

“I didn’t believe it! She began speaking in orcish, obviously expecting the human girl to not understand. (Although, even if June hadn’t spoken orcish herself, the fiery tone of the words would have given her a fairly clear idea of the meaning.) “An ‘old friend’ mama said you had found. Looks like a ‘new’ friend to me! How could such a weak, puling, pale shadow of a woman even appeal to such as you! You are orc! She will break in two the first time you take her! If this is what you like, then you are too weak a man for me! I will kill her and then you will see that you deserve a strong mate of our people!”

And then, in beliance of her strong words, the young woman burst into tears and ran off into the crowd.

There was a moment of very uncomfortable silence and then June looked up at Mardu uncertainly. His face was still stony and closed. “So, um, not dinner?... orphanage?”

“Orphanage,” Mardu agreed. He was still in shock over what was just said to him. Lieutenant Thoresund was one thing; the dwarf would hold that over his head for years unless Mardu did something to earn his favour again. But seeing Golind’s daughter Grusind was completely unexpected, and very unsettling. He’d never realised what kind of violent reaction the orc girl would have. He only hoped that Grusind would not act upon her hastily made threat...

“June, I’m sorry,” he said after they put some distance between them and the Watch offices. “I... I’m... Oh hell, I don’t know what to say right now.” If he was conflicted before, he was totally flabbergasted now. It wasn’t as if he was sorry for kissing her. But the timing was all wrong, and their current situation was so sudden. He definitely didn’t want to lead the beautiful young girl on...

“I’m not sorry I kissed you,” he clarified, realising he hadn’t managed to say that yet. He had to make that perfectly clear. “Gods, why is nothing ever easy?”

“Because, if it was, we wouldn’t appreciate it.”

June looked up at him. Part of her wanted to giggle at the expression on his face. But the wiser part, the dragon born prophetess that sometimes made her older than her years, spoke to his feelings. “Don’t worry about the woman. She was just disappointed. We say things we don’t mean when we’re hurt.” She smiled a little darkly. “And if she were foolish enough to do it, then she’d find that I’m not just a human woman. I’m the dragonborn.”

In a moment of honesty, she held up her hands to him, letting the dragon claws appear where he could see them for the first time. He didn’t flinch or pull away at all. Nor did he comment at all. It was as if h just accepted them as a part of June, which offered her some comfort at least..

“What that means for what I will become in the future, I don’t know. Will I eventually become in-human, I don’t know. Will I live shorter or longer...I don’t know. Will I grow scales and wings...I don’t know.” She cocked her head to look up at him as her face grew more serious..

“And three years on my own. This world isn’t kind to young girls who run away, I’ve found. I’m very much not the innocent little girl you helped to escape those years ago. I’ve learned the hard way that everything in life is uncertain, except the prophecy. Age, love, safety, kindness. even my own humanity. It’s shown me that we have to take what good things life gives us, when they give them. Because tomorrow it may not be there.”

“Tomorrow we may die?” Mardu quoted the cliched phrase to her and she nodded.

“Yes. So today is the day to live. I don’t worry about tomorrow. I may be dead tomorrow.” She wrinkled her nose in a grimace. “I hope I’m not dead tomorrow...but you get my drift.”

The seriousness finally faded from her face and the familiar impish grin returned as she glanced at him from under her lashes. “And I enjoyed being kissed by you, very much.”

And then, before his discomfort could manifest itself more, she attempted to diffuse the situation.

“So, where is that orphanage?”

“Greyflood District, down in Lower Cliffside,” Mardu replied, taken aback by the sudden change of subject. “We can get a sky taxi down there...”

The air taxi ride this time was filled with a silence that seemed to vasilate back and forth between companionable and awkward. With such quiet, after a long and busy first day in Sharn, June fell asleep. A sleep filled with dreams and memories of the first time she had met him. The day of her escape from her comfortable and monied prison. His touch woke her with a start, tears pooling in her eyes. “Are you alright?” His expression was concerned and she nodded, without speaking (indeed, she doubted she could trust her voice right then) and climbed from the taxi.

The walk from the station to the orphanage was silent as well. June glanced at him under her lashes a few times, but he seemed pre-occupied, so she didn’t speak.

When the reached the worn doorway it was almost a relief to have an excuse to converse again. The Safe Haven Orphanage, did not seem an opulent place. The exterior nearly forbidding in it’s harshness However, a potted plant near the door seemed a small attempt by someone to soften that grim exterior.

“What can you tell me about Sister Sydower?”

"Not a lot, really," the half-orc explained. "All I know is that she's made a big enough fuss to be noticed by the Korranberg Chronicle. And if it's in the broadsheets, the Watch has to tread a bit more carefully."

Mardu knocked on the heavy weather-beaten door. They waited a few seconds before someone opened it from within. A young girl peered up at the pair through a pair of thick glasses. She couldn't have been more than eighteen years old. She was small and thin, with her hair drawn back severely into a plait that ran down her back. She wore a simple tunic and trousers under an oversized coat, all of which were obviously second-hand offerings and much mended.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a wary tone.

"We're looking for Sister Olivette Sydower," Mardu said as he showed her his badge. This seemed to ease her obvious discomfort a small bit.

"You're speaking to her," replied the girl. "What can I do for you?..."

[Response? Comments? Actions?]

***
__________________
Pessimism is just an ugly word for pattern recognition...

Necessity is the mother of moral reletivism...
Reply With Quote
  #3  
Old 02-12-2012, 02:20 PM
Rhakir's Avatar
Rhakir Rhakir is offline
Eerily quiet...
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Where I belong...
Posts: 1,416
Rhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant future
Default Han (Raul) and Shae

When Shae saw the look creeping across Raul’s face, she grew serious.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said soberly. “And I do know what I’m talking about. I know who she really is. But we can’t finish this conversation here. Come with me and I’ll fill you in on the rest.”

Though she was talking to Raul, her eyes were fixed on the front door of the Broken Bridge. Rather, her eyes were on the pair that just entered through the front door. And she looked anxious...

“I believe we should take this party elsewhere. Less the party gets crashed by friends of yours...” Raul said in a quiet tone, as his hand slid off the table to one of his daggers.

“You sweet-talker,” Shae grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” She stood up and moved towards the rear of the taproom, taking Raul by the hand so he’d follow. “And they aren’t my friends, I can assure you of that.”

As expected, the two men at the entrance began pushing their way through the crowded room, upsetting tables and shoving people out of their way. They were quietly efficient in their malevolent advance, nary uttering a word as they crossed the room...

“Looks like its time to go...” Han said before taking her hand and moving faster to the rear of the taproom. “I’m sure between the two of us we can lose them once they cant see us.”

Shae instantly morphed her features into that of a dark-haired half-elf with blue eyes as the two made it out the back of the taproom. Han had to admit it was a good look for her.

"I recommend you slip into something a little more comfortable," she smiled. "I don't think they got a good look at us, but it wouldn't hurt to be safe." She drew a wicked looking curved dagger and eyed the door they just came through. They were in a tower-alley; the space behind the back of the Broken Bridge was as narrow as an alleyway, but had a sheer wall on one side and a sheer drop on the other.

"So, do we make a stand and ambush them as they come out, or do we make a run for it while we can?"

[Response? Comments? Actions?]

***
__________________
Pessimism is just an ugly word for pattern recognition...

Necessity is the mother of moral reletivism...
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old 02-12-2012, 02:20 PM
Rhakir's Avatar
Rhakir Rhakir is offline
Eerily quiet...
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Where I belong...
Posts: 1,416
Rhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant futureRhakir has a brilliant future
Default Raena and Durion

“It seems to me that you’re being played, Master Durion,” she said finally. “I don’t mean to be so blunt, but I can’t think of a reason why someone would leave you such a blatant clue for such an elaborate endeavour. Can you tell me anything about your past that might tie into this somehow? Do you suppose that someone you know is responsible for all of this?”

Durion dropped his head and shook it. “I really don’t know. I can’t... Most of the people I used to know are lost to me now. I lost them in the war, or when this happened to me.”

He traced the scars on his face.

“I used to be a great and powerful Magus. Now, I struggle to do what I once did effortlessly. I can’t remember who might have done this to me. Perhaps we will have to find out together.”

“I’m sorry,” Raena said quietly. “I didn’t realise. I know the War has taken its toll on survivors in many different ways. Perhaps the man you once were did know.” She paused to consider. “Maybe this is all related somehow.

“I wonder... You said you can’t remember who might’ve done this to you. And the little boy you found with the message has no memories. What if there’s some sort of significance to that?” The priestess was thoughtful, running her thumb over her lower lip.

[Response? Comments? Actions?]

Their sky taxi arrived at Morgrave in short order. The rain had lessened, so only a light drizzle could be felt as they disembarked at the platform. It was much more crowded here as students and scholars and various others waited for the next vessel to whisk them off to other parts of the city. No sooner had they stepped out than a pair of Shifters leapt in.

Once they emerged from the chaos of the landing platform, the open courtyard of Morgrave University opened up before them. Raena marvelled at the size of the campus, vaguely aware of the fact that she was gawping like a tourist. This was a fair assessment, since she had never been here before and had no idea how grand the place was.

Durion led her through the main entrance and into the halls of higher learning. To Raena, the main lobby was a blur of giant artefacts recovered from Xen’drik displayed side by side with trophies of the ancient goblinoid nations that once spanned Khorvaire. There was so much to see, and she was whisked through the area by the ever efficient military man, giving her little time to appreciate the sights.

They made their way up to the library offices, where Durion had left Ymaine with the boy. He knocked at the Assistant Head Librarian’s office door and stood at attention until it was answered. Raena hid a smile at the elf’s adherence to military propriety.

“Hello, Master Durion,” Ymaine greeted when she opened the door. “I’m glad you’re back!” She introduced herself to the priestess with a friendly smile and nod, but both Durion and Raena noticed that she looked a little worn out, both physically and emotionally. The reason for this became apparent when she ushered the pair into her office.

The young boy was currently sitting in the corner with a handful of crayons happily scribbling in an ancient tome, defacing the manuscript with blissfully childish ignorance. There were at least a dozen other books that had received similar treatment scattered about, and there were handfuls of papers and pages thrown about the usually tidy office. Durion was pretty certain that Ymaine had some crayon on the lens of her glasses.

“I hope you have some good news about the boy,” Ymaine said as she sank into her chair heavily with a sigh. She immediately sprang back up with a yelp when she realised the boy had placed one of her ink pots on the seat. Her dress was now streaked black, as it dripped down her legs and onto the floor. She looked like she was about to cry.

“I came to see the boy,” said Raena as she moved forward to help the beleaguered young woman. “My uncle was the inquisitive on the card Master Durion found with the boy. I’m not sure what I can do about him, but I’ll do my best to find out what I can.”

As the two women tried to sort out Ymaine’s skirts and the now ruined chair, the young boy came up to Durion proudly displaying his artwork scribbled in A Treatise on Giantish Religious Customs, Volume III. It was a monstrous image of a man with clawed hands, blue lips, red eyes, and fangs that dripped blood. The roughly drawn figure loomed over a pile of what looked like dead people; there were crosses where the eyes should be and they were coloured in with blood red crayon. The boy looked up at Durion for his approval of the masterpiece...

[Response? Comments? Actions?]

Raena came over to see what was going on after the she and Ymaine had done the best they could with the spilt ink.

“How lovely,” she commented as she took the book out of his hands and set it aside. “Why don’t you and I get to know each other a bit while Master Durion helps Miss Ymaine, okay?” She waved Durion away and led the boy to the corner where he was when they first entered the office. She sat and talked quietly with him while Durion approached the assistant librarian.

Before he could offer her any assistance, a knock sounded at the office door. Ymaine excused herself to answer it. A young boy, perhaps a little older and only marginally better dressed than the misplaced urchin, popped his head in and handed Ymaine note and a small pouch. She looked over the note and shook her head.

“Tell him I’ll reply as soon as I can,” the librarian told the boy before sending him off. She tucked the pouch and note away and turned back to Durion. “Timing is everything,” she said vaguely. “Any luck with the boy? Or anything new about the artefact, for that matter?”

Raena looked up as she inspected the child. Her eyes were quite wide, which drew Durion's attention.

"I think I found two things that are important," the priestess said quietly. "First, I found a tag sewn into the boy's shirt. It says 'property of Safe Haven Orphanage'. He might be one of the missing children that Uncle Antos was looking for. And second, I found this..." She turned the boy's back towards Durion and Ymaine and pulled down the boy's shirt where the tag was sewn in. A Dragonmark spread across the boy's left shoulder, pulsing an angry reddish-purple, its shape unlike any of the known Dragonmarked House's. The boy bore an aberrant mark, with unknown powers...

[Replies? Comments? Actions?]

***
__________________
Pessimism is just an ugly word for pattern recognition...

Necessity is the mother of moral reletivism...
Reply With Quote
Reply

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -4. The time now is 05:59 PM.


Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.2
Copyright ©2000 - 2018, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Copyright on all original post text belongs to the poster.