Topic: Darkest Roleplay [WEALD 2]

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This topic contains 713 replies, has 9 voices, and was last updated by relishness oblivion relishness oblivion 2 years, 3 months ago.

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  • #222063
    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion
    Participant

    “Oh it’s just a breath of fresh air to meet new folk… Oh! This little scratch?” Villon chuckled as he motioned toward his wound with a fake smile, “Little bird bastards tore me up… but thankfully I managed to get patched up!” Villon replied before he stood, making his way toward the fortifications with a lazy stride, shouldering his axe.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

    #225291
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Participant

    //The Else-side Shore//

    Villon approached the set up of sandbags and stakes that made the shooting nest. Nooked into the base of the sandbags, hidden from immediate view, were a few palm-sized metal cylinders with a fuse swirling out; about 4 were spaced respectively along the sandbags.
    The fuses were tied together, and a matchbox was set atop one of the crates.

    Strands of hay were pressed into the mud around the fortification; behind the sandbags proper, there were a few rises where wood boards made some solid ground.

    He would be roughly two meters away from the sandbags, approaching from the side.

    The Other huffed and shook his head, eyeing the man as he relaxed again, easing into the side of the cabin though he kept his rifle ready.

    //The Cabin//

    Jean huffed and eyed Nasuada as she entered, raising a brow before he leaned back in his chair, hand going out to the small hearth with a coffee pot hung above it; grasping the handle he quickly brought it over to the table, looking to either with offering eyes as he began filling three wooden steins that were set upon the table.

    Along with the steins, was a map; clean, made of white burlap, it was rolled out on the table. It was roughly a foot in length in all directions.

    “We are here, you see..?” He tapped a large circular portion of the map, a skull set upon the lake. This small monicer was enough for the rest of the map to come together; it was akin to the map the party had found on the road here. The only difference being better penmanship and a whiter canvas.

    “There is a goat’s-path from here to a clearing, a short walk but ah… best to watch out for the fungus and traps.” He nodded, his finger tracing the line that wound shortly around and back to the ambush location.

    “We stashed some of the loot along the way, the rest… I do not know, our boss took it.” He shrugged, and chewed on his lip, squinting at the map before shrugging,
    “We’ll have you back on the main road in a couple of hours.” he nodded with a glib smile as he leaned back once again, the coffee poured, he drank from his and eyed Taas, then Mithra. A crimson glint of caught his curiously incandescant eyes, the hearthlight did cast a warm hue on everything in the cabin; a warm but sickly yellow glow…

    /Nasuada/
    It was… curious; the suppression was indeed, there and manifest. But it was by no hinderance of light or the like; not even equivalent to the immediate negation from the Stone Man, Obitus. His presence was far, far away; by what Nasuada might be able to estimate.

    The draining and dulling sensation came from her right, towards the window, where The Other Deserter rested and Villon, in addition to a crate that was marked with a green stamp. What the stamp displayed was off at an angle, and not rightly seeable from this angle.
    //
    /Taas/

    She nodded thoughtfully, listening as her features relaxed to something more equivalent to a tactician, as she eyed the map; unashamedly browsing the rest of the map as well. She brought a gloved hand to her chin and pinched either side in thought before she shrugged, nodded, and took up the stein and took a cringeful swig.
    “Seems fair…” She admitted, looking to Nasuada’s meditative state, before rolling her shoulders a bit nervously, eyes drifting back to Jean,
    “… But…” She hummed, biting her tongue as she thought, then huffed, shoulders sagging; “… Well, when do you think we ‘aught to head out, then?” She rose a brow, a smirk coming back to her features,
    “I’d like to get outta the woods for once.”
    //

    "Sometimes there are a lot of words..."
    "Half the people don't make it to gravy."
    -Vanitypirate
    "'Twas not by fire, but was forged in flame
    That can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain" - The Devil and The Huntsman
    "I've got an intelligence of six, please, I got this." - Grog

    #225459

    Mithra didn’t know what to say, thinking Villon had finally been broken. She stood there slightly dumbstruck, feeling uneasy with how different he seemed.
    ———
    Nasuada/Tris opened there eyes, casting a glance at the Stien of coffee before getting up from the floor and walked over to the crate. She looked at the green stamp, wondering what the label on it said so she might have a clue to why it was giving her magic trouble.

    Press Start To Begin!- DAGames
    Life is the hardest game, what will you do to win?
    "You just gotta fist the boss to do more damage!"- GaLm, EtG.

    #227471
    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion
    Participant

    Villon shuffled his feet as they collided with the sludge-like sand, grinding against shells and stones alike with a wet sound of grit creaking loudly in his ears. He watched his footing, and desired to get a closer look at the shooting nest. He would get close enough where he could analyze from an appropriate distance but far away enough so he could hopefully react to anything that may occur. Hoisting his executioners axe up to his chest, he began moving down to the shooting nest, gripping the shaft of his axe loosely but he still felt tense.

    “I swear I’ll fuckin’ die if I have to be a jolly cunt any longer…” Villon spat under his breath, his head looking back at Mithra and the man, grumbling deeply before he continued his way to the shooting nest. He occasionally kept an eye on the lake, eyeing the waters and horizon of the lake itself.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

    #228995
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Participant

    /The Else-Side Shore/
    -Jean-
    Jean harumph’d and took a sip from the cuppa coffee, nodding; he motioned to Nasuada then Taas,

    “If… you and your frienden’s are ready? Sure.” He chuckled glibly, smirking, before he leaned back in his chair, draping an arm lazily around it.

    “It would be in… all of our best interests if you did, actually.” He nodded again, holding his cup of coffee in his hand before his eyes drifted to watch Nasuada; he made no movements but he watched her with a curious intent.

    “We’ve been having issues with the local… monsters. And with men and women, like your little posse.” He cleared his throat, an air of seriousness rose about him as his thumb rubbed against the chipped lip of the tin cup.

    Although, it was swiftly dismissed with a bubbly laugh as he brushed some unseen dust from the lapel of his jack,
    “It is no love lost to me, though. This world is harsh, and unforgiving.” He mused a bit ominously as he wiped the line of his jaw with his thumb.

    -Nasuada-

    The crate’s wood was once immaculate; though most of its polish had faded, and there were a few cuts in the fine wood, there was an undeniable sheen and quality in what few patches of unmolested wood there were on this very travelled carriage.

    The only true clue that the olive hued seal gave was an immaculately gothic ‘G’ being imprinted on its surface, with a crow in flight set in the background. It was rather extravagant, and nothing immediately came to Nasuada where this specific emblem would have come into play.

    It was definitely from a prided Family; though whom was rather lost.
    This close, doubly the crate was undeniably the same sort that was on the other cabin on the other shore.

    The crate seemed viable to open, as the nails and seals that held it closed before were altogether gone.


    -Villon-

    Standing about two meters away from the nest itself, Villon would easily spy a red seal, set on one of the ammunition crates in the shooting nest.

    The seal boasted an extravagant ‘F’, captured in a tear-drop shape with little more superfluous action taking place outside said tear-drop.

    In addition, there were about 18 notches set into the side of the ammo crate. The crate itself being a fair meter by meter ordeal. The seal being the size of a man’s thumb, or thereabouts.

    The nest seemed very well used, and the hint of gunpowder still set on the established cover, implied a frequency of bi-nightly use.

    The shooting spot was upraised just enough to give perfect vantage across the fogsome waters: though the other side was not apparent. The water of the lake was calm, again, and appeared much like black glass.

    A droplet of rain disrupted the surface, in the distance, and then another. A light rain began to fall around the clearing.

    //

    "Sometimes there are a lot of words..."
    "Half the people don't make it to gravy."
    -Vanitypirate
    "'Twas not by fire, but was forged in flame
    That can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain" - The Devil and The Huntsman
    "I've got an intelligence of six, please, I got this." - Grog

    #229003
    Blade
    Blade
    Participant

    “Great, it’s raining.” Mithra said, but did not sound mad about it at all, in fact she smiled, perhaps this rain might cleanse her and refreshen her enough to last a bit longer.
    ——-
    Nasuada was tempted to open the crate right there and then, but thought better of it, since the bandit Jean might panic. So she went for a better approach.

    “We’d say we go now as well, but it’s starting to rain, and We doubt we want to be out in a possible storm. Oh, and if you don’t mind sir, may we ask what is in this crate? It doesn’t seem like the usual we’ve seen.” Nasuada/Tris said, her mind trying to think and see if she had seen this emblem before.

    #231255
    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion
    Participant

    Villon didn’t really see anything of interest besides the red wax seal, and noted it to memory. He sighed heavily in boredom, realizing that his search was all but fruitless, making his way back.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

    #235107
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Participant

    /The Else-side Shore/

    The rain did slowly creep its way over the crowd; it was no downpour, but it fell in a fair shower, not rightly deterring the vision anymore than the close-cut dark trunks of the Weald proper.

    /Jean/

    He rose a brow at Nasuada, and shrugged his cock-sure manner was almost defusing, if but for the less defusable weaponry crossed over his chest. The Frenchman stood, regardless of their decision, and held his stein of coffee close to his chest, swirling it lightly as he moved to put his back close to the hearth.
    “I suppose there is no reason to lie… it is a crate of supplies we intercepted because… Well, grudges.” He chuckled, then shrugged again,

    “Maybe they could fetch a pretty price but, eh… I would not trust them in the hands of anyone.” He nodded, looking to Taas, then Tris.

    “The rain might be good, you know? Beasts won’t be able to smell us as easily, and some hide in their caves…” He advised, looking to Taas.
    //

    /Taas/

    She scoffed, and looked back to Nasuada with a questioning leer, before shaking her own pale scalp.
    “Ay, I think we ‘aught t’keep our feet hot, Nasty…” She huffed, standing up as well; she rubbed her jaw with her thumb, looking about the cabin.

    “Tell the others, Nas… We’re gonna trot on out, the… Deserter’s…” She looked to Jean for a reaction, the man simply smiled and shrugged,

    “… Gonna grab some relics along t’way, for… gold.” She nodded, rolling her shoulders as she plucked up her cup and drained the last of it: her eyes squinted, then cleared as she scratched at the bandage about her head; tugging it to better cover up the gnarled burn scar.

    “Then we ‘ead home… With th’two dandies, get a pardon for’em… Should be easy, eh?” She huffed; her cheerful manner seemed drained, and it seemed the stress of the recent events were catching up to her. There had been, notably, a past momentum in her movements. But now that she’d stagnated, well… Her features seemed more gaunt and alien than ever before. There was even a slight shake as she held the cup in her hands.
    //

    "Sometimes there are a lot of words..."
    "Half the people don't make it to gravy."
    -Vanitypirate
    "'Twas not by fire, but was forged in flame
    That can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain" - The Devil and The Huntsman
    "I've got an intelligence of six, please, I got this." - Grog

    #235123
    Blade
    Blade
    Participant

    Nasuada/Tris nodded to Taas, her eyes glued to the box. She let her hand brush across the surface of it before leaving the crate alone before finally pulling herself away from it and leaving the cabin.

    “We’re heading out soon, get ready to leave. Our new friends our coming with us as well.” She said, hoping to possibly make sure no one would acquire whatever was in the box before returning to the hamlet, as it seemed a threat to her whatever it was.
    ——
    “I’ve been ready to leave this place, hurry up in there!” Mithra said loudly, after Nasuada said that they would be heading out soon. She just wanted to get to town and sleep and get an actual good nights rest.

    #238189
    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion
    Participant

    “…Good.” Villon grumbled in response, his usual persona turning back to its usual self. In a hurry, Villon picked up his axe and stood from where he sat near the cabin, waiting for the others.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

    #238964
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Participant

    This reply has been reported for inappropriate content.

    /The Else-side Shore/
    The rain kept a monotonous shower on the posse, a soft hiss of rain as it soaked the soil…
    … It was almost preferrable to the oppressive quiet of before, but it seemed to mask any soft sounds. The Weald’s shadows seemed to be ever more intimidating, with the veil of noise the rain gave.
    /Jean/

    He huffed, finishing his cuppa coffee, looking to Taas with his brows raised;
    “Guess that’s it then..?” He chuckled and shrugged as he tossed the mug over his shoulder, it bounced off the wall and fell to the floor with a dull thud as he walked out of the Cabin.

    He splayed his arms out in a theatric manner, to the group; sidling awkwardly past Nasuada as he cleared his throat,
    “Ah! Alright, alright. Follow me, and stay close; hold hands if you want to, mhmm.” He chuckled and stroked some dustling of hairs on his chin as he took a step back,
    “Tony! Make sure you… y’know…” His extravagant manner left as he seemed to think for some words, he mimicked striking a flint and stone.

    “… Pop, after we trot, Mmm?” He bowed his head, the Other, now named Tony, sighed and nodded his head.

    Jean looked about the group, nodded again,
    “Right… Good. I will take the vanguard, my friend will be at the rear, to make sure no one strays; sound good..?” He asked, though he already made to walk to a barely cut-out portion of the Weald’s scrubbery…

    //
    /Taas/

    She nodded, and smiled, strained as she set down her cup. Letting her features relax once Jean left and gave his own announcement.
    Taas massaged her burnt temple as she looked to the boxes Nasuada had been investigating, and she herself ambled over a bit closer; sneering at it as she spied the symbol and contents.

    With a shake of her head, she looked to the door, then the crate, before leaving the cabin proper; looking to her rescue party with a haggard look. It was almost reassuring to see that the state was shared, though she sported a toothsome grin and nodded.

    “Ay… We’re almost out, chums! S’only a lee bit longer, eh?” She chuckled, clearing her throat and furrowing her brow as she eyed the bloody and wounded members of her party
    “I’ll take the fore, Villon behind, then Nassy. Mithra, I want you inna rear.” She pointed to each respectively as she spoke the names, before rolling her shoulders and making to follow Jean in a backpedal: Facing her comrades to make sure they fell in line properly.

    //
    /Tony/

    He eyed each member with his simple eyes, rubbing his bald head as the rain fell on it before huffing and sticking his hand into his coat, procuring a simple cloth skullcap that he fixed to his head.
    Tony then fisked about his pockets before procuring a tinderbox that he kept well in his palm, hidden from the rain.
    “Do not leave anything behind… There will not be anything left once you go.” He warned boldly, as he began walking towards the firing position that Villon had investigated…

    //

    "Sometimes there are a lot of words..."
    "Half the people don't make it to gravy."
    -Vanitypirate
    "'Twas not by fire, but was forged in flame
    That can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain" - The Devil and The Huntsman
    "I've got an intelligence of six, please, I got this." - Grog

    #239320
    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion
    Participant

    “…Grhr..” Villon grumbled impatiently as he shouldered his axe and looked off into the distance, idly watching the lakes with little care whatsoever. He swayed his head toward Taas for a moment, a bitter and clearly tired look on his face, but he lightened it up as his eyes met with her single eye, “So Taas, what yah plan on doing when yah get back, ey?” Villon questioned casually, reaching up to his face and scratching his beard. The bristles of the black and grey hairs were scratched quite well, and he felt somewhat relaxed afterwards. A good scratch is always a good pass time.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

    #240592
    Blade
    Blade
    Participant

    Mithra began to follow Jean and Taas, a light smile appearing on her face as she realized how close she might be to victory. It gave her a boost she really needed and desperately wanted.
    ————–
    Nasuada/Tris raised her eyebrows as she realized the implications of what Tony was about to do. If nothing was going to be left then the crate and whatever was in it would be gone forever, hopefully at least. She was currently fighting her curiosity to make up a lie and check out the box now, compared to the idea of leaving and forgetting all about the item.

    She shook her head in indecisiveness, releasing a sigh as she walked away from the small Cabin. Her eyes went to Tony, resting on his person with a cold stare.

    “We hope you are true to your word when you say there will be nothing left.” She said with complete seriousness. Turning away to follow Taas, Jean, and Mithra.

    #240604
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Bloodtrailkiller
    Participant

    /The Else-Side Shore/

    The party, dutifully, filed out; no doubt eager to leave the draining woods. The rain kept its steady pour, neither intensifiying or lightening up; a consistent drone of noise that mimed the previous cicada like sounds the day prior.

    Regardless, the party, accompanied by Jean and later, Tony once he finished his duty, would begin down The Ambush Route…
    //
    /The Ambush Route/

    With Jean leading the way, Taas close behind, the brush still seemed to push inbetween each party member; sticks would be bent and slapped back, if the forward party didn’t have the decency to hold it before it could be swapped with the member behind.

    Thankfully, the footing was… more or less stable. An occasional upraised root, or large stone, but it was generally level.
    The group would continue moving, with the Weald quite literally biting at the edges of their attire…

    Jean was silent, as he pressed onwards at a brisk pace, despite the foilage. It was a strangely quiet venture, no twigs snapped for the rain wetted them, and the leaves only squelched silently underfoot.
    //

    /Taas/

    She harumphed as she brought an arm up to stop a branch from smacking her face, she held it as she walked forward ’till Mithra could hold it and she walked on. The pattern repeating itself as Jean continued to move on through.

    Part of her was tempted to just start hacking through the brush, though, she supposed that’d make more noise than they already were. Though, one branch struck her square on the cheek, leaving a small scratch, and she hissed in pain; before snapping the branch with a wet and muffled pop that seemed to garner no warning glance from Jean, so she kept trotting.

    She heard Villon and looked back, pausing for a moment to talk back,
    “Told you, ya grot; gonna get us all a drink! Maybe a night-wife… or two. A soft pillow, and…” She began back down the path, to get Jean back in eyesight.
    “… And maybe a song! Y’know… Regale our tale, whaddya lot think, mm?” she asked with an open mouth grin as she imagined the warm tavern already, dry boots… a bath.
    //

    "Sometimes there are a lot of words..."
    "Half the people don't make it to gravy."
    -Vanitypirate
    "'Twas not by fire, but was forged in flame
    That can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain" - The Devil and The Huntsman
    "I've got an intelligence of six, please, I got this." - Grog

    #240608
    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion
    Participant

    “…Eh… A drink will do me just fine, but you can sing if you want to.” Villon replied with a smile, however it soon faded. He looked about, his head swaying from side to side. It was eerily quiet again, and he felt tense. Accompanied by deserters… it made him grip his axe tight and a bubble forming in his inner pit of anger. Glancing about, he swayed his head to the left, pretending to look behind at the tree lining but casting a couple paranoid glances at the deserter behind him. When his head turned back around, he shivered and continued forward. The twig and branches would not make Villon notice in the slightest, small scratches upon his clothes occurred but nothing too severe.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

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