podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 11:49 AM |
(http://www.roblox.com/Forum/ShowPost.aspx?PostID=52954628 to sign up, two more spots available. Read the first page.)
King Guldrid Ulwynn died Anno Domini 1257, ruler of the Kingdom of Karmwall. He was a great propagandist and dictator, intent on persecuting all hybrids with animals in his great kingdom. Even after his death, with no heir to succeed him, many nobles and known figures follow his legacy, still spreading the lies and brainwashing the peasants under their rule, persecuting hybrids within and attempting to enter their lands. They form a group called "The Baron's Alliance."
Day and Night, Roving Death Squads of peasants and hired mercenaries pillage and search for the hybrids, slaughtering, crucifying, or imprisoning them in chains to sell to the prisons for money, where more torture ensues. However on the other side, comes the sympathizers of the hybrids, partisans known to have assassinated the King in hope to stop the discrimination against the hybrids. These collaborators were wrong, and it is speculated that all out war could be incited soon with the Baron's Alliance, and everyone is cautious.
You awoke in your cell, your figure lying below the rusty barred window that let in the summer sun. Beside you lay your prized fountain pen from the Dwarven Mountains, a spectacle to see, you were lucky the guards passed it on as a tool of Magic, as they are nevertheless dumb and half-wit.
Rubbing your eyes with your fur-covered hands, you remember why you're here, laying in the flea bound hay of a prison cell, being fed rats every evening. You were a hybrid, caught in the forest by a band of peasants who beat you up and sold you here, in the city of Newcastle.
Across and adjacent from your cell were two collaborators, sympathizers of your race. The man, situated across from you was always staring at you, always trying to push his bowl of gruel he received for his meal, because he was human. Due to this kind action, an iron lashing bench situated in the courtyard was now always in his cell. Today, he stared at you in the corner, stiff as a rock save slurping the remainder of his meal from the previous evening.
Adjacent from you was a woman, sick with fever. She lay on here dropping strewn hay, sleeping the best she could. She perspired heavily, and had been offended by the guards, as you indirectly witnessed on drunk nights where the guards where daring and more belligerent.
After observing the scene and taking in the situation, you sat underneath the sun, legs out and considering how your father's farm was doing, or if he'd been burnt to dust.
|
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:00 PM |
| Carefully reach for my Fountain Pen. It is one of the few things that could help. Use other hand in order to search myself for my Notepad. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:04 PM |
| You grasp your Fountain Pen from where it lay before, and search carefully for your Notepad. You knew that the cell straw was full with gigantic ticks and vermin that bite and make the hairs of one's neck stick. By-and-by, you uncover your Notepad. The edges of the still precious paper pad was abused and slightly stained in anonymous grey substance that reeked of disease, however was still able to be used. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:05 PM |
| (Sorry, "were" abused not "was") |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:06 PM |
| Carefully skim through the pages. I am certain I had a Ritual Circle or two scribbled down for the healing of Minor Diseases. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:13 PM |
| Trying to reclaim what you had lost in your head all these weeks imprisoned in this dirty, smelly, pit, you flip through the pages one at a time, attempting to remember the Ritual Circle of Healing. After looking through the drawings and sketches one at a time, eureka! With ecstacy, you remember the ritual circle and seem to jump up in the air in triumph even though you're sitting down. The man across from you had noticed the action, and had finished his meal and grasped the narrow steel gate by it's bars, observing you with question and curiosity, bowl shoved through the bars and propped up in the narrow hallway that divided the cells. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:20 PM |
| Rip out the page, and toss the Ritual Circle at the Feverish Woman with signature flourish and theatrics. It should do the trick. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 12:36 PM |
| After tossing the object through the bars of your cell, the flimsy composition of the blasted writing utensil causes it to stall near the cell across from you, and manages to land in front of the man still eying you. He reaches for the paper and points at it with his spare hand, inquiring you with a look. It appears the man is deaf, and can only socialize with you with actions, due to the high possibility that he cannot read lips, only Mages are permitted to do so. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 01:00 PM |
| Frown, and write down on an empty page that the Paper is a Ritual Circle for the Healing and Dispelling of Minor Diseases and their Symptoms, meant for the woman with the fever that she may be relieved of her sickness. Show him this page that he may understand. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 01:14 PM |
Attempting to grasps the mans attention, you wave to him, proceeding to hold the paper up and discover you written note to him. He squints, but by-and-by he finally reads the thing and shoves the Ritual Circle into the cell adjacent with his emancipated arm. Apparently the man is also a scribe, as he knows how to read.
The Ritual Circle lands on the women, and at one point her figure seems to radiate with light. After a few seconds, she blinks slowly, eyes half open, and struggles to prop herself against the cold stone wall. The man, watching from a difficult angle, has his eyes popping out of his skull, then, in a sudden second, his face withers and he begins to sob, either in happiness or in great despair. Maybe the two are a couple? |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 18 Aug 2011 01:49 PM |
| Smile, and watch the man and woman carefully, while silently searching for that Fireball Ritual Circle. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:11 PM |
| (I know I put it here somewhere... it was that one we used to roast the Chickens that escaped from the Academy's Kitchens...) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:16 PM |
| (Where am I? Did I get drunk in the tavern and pass out again? Gosh darnit.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:21 PM |
| (Great, your all online. Once Retal escapes, I'll put in a word for you, WHT.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:22 PM |
| (Then I try to ambush Retal and get my backside royally beaten and handed to me on a silver platter.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:24 PM |
| (Ohoho, another Player. Oh you Pod, you know how to get me excited about an Interactive Fiction. =3) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:28 PM |
While being absorbed back into your Ritual scribblings, the symphony of emotion had attracted unwanted attention by the guards. With one pop-bellied chubby man in a tunic entered the room, he spat curses at the woman as he grinned sadistically, conclusively knowing what to do next. Seeing this, the deaf man began to scream hysterically in rage, grasping at the bars, attempting to pry them pen with unwilling strength.
In came another guard of fair appearance, without a developing stomach and as thin as a twig. He wielded a strip of leather attached to a handle, and a torch in the other. Crooning over to lash the deaf man into submission as the fat guard did his business. You then notice the ring of iron keys dangling from his tunic belt close within arm's reach, due to the narrow dimensions of the hall. All while finding your fireball Ritual Circle.
|
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:34 PM |
Those Keys look rather tantalising... rather like one of those fat chickens that keep running past those tiny little slats they call windows... but enough of that, I have to quickly find that Sleeping Circle that the Doctors had me draw up for when they cut some poor bloke's arm off. That should put the arses right out. As soon as I find it, it's going right on that blighter with the keys, then we're setting fire to that arse who's torturing that fair wee lass.
Oh look at me talking like one of my Cousins, I have better Education than that. I AM A SCHOLAR! |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
| |
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:42 PM |
The man is getting the lashing of his life as he still attempts to save his fair dame from the fat nonce. Afraid the Head Prison Captain will be stirred from his sleep, he lashes with vigor, trying to sooth the man's cries. As you fetch the Sleeping Circle from your archives, you mustn't tarry long, as the thin guard will start to enter the deaf man's man's cell, possibly thrice fast until the poor gent is beaten to a daft pulp, taking your plan to grasp the keys into the trash.
Oh, I just attempted to speak like an Englishman. Whoopdeedoo. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:44 PM |
(Someone do German and Milanese next.) (Oh wait, I meant Italian.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:45 PM |
I'll rip out the Circle and slam it against the back of the man with the Keys to get him to Sleep, using my other hand in order to get the keys and release myself. And this Fireball spell, oh that brute is in for quite a lashing for treating the poor girl so.
I could almost be one of those Mysterious Spanish Gentlemen if I didn't have to wear these glasses. |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:48 PM |
| (Where you're going, you won't even need eyes.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:56 PM |
Taking your plan into action, the ever worrisome guard falls limply onto the jagged stone floor as he is put soundly to sleep. Grabbing the keys from the fallen b.stard's crude belt, you unlock the door as the confused but smiling guard is lit aflame by your curse, baking him to a crisp and singing his piddling bits. He lies on the ground thrashing onto the floor before eventually passing on. The man, bloody and awed by your action, bows his head at you and tries to take off his cap as he falls from weakness, grasping the gate bars for support.
The women, now healthy and able to act, thanks you in speech. "My husband and I can stay if you want, just go free, young hybrid, and get to live your life with the partisans. Hopefully you can start a war we can't fight." She croaks to you slowly. Stricken by the statement, you suddenly notice how old and worn this couple is. Your conscious advises you to let them free with them barely able to get outside the walls of the city, and possibly hanged in front of jeering public. But nevertheless, your respect for the sacrificial sympathizers wants you to live up to their wishes, and be executed in peace.
(Completely up to you man. However I kind of feel sad for the couple of my own fictional mind. Hmmph.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|
podraptor
|
  |
| Joined: 13 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 19826 |
|
|
| 19 Aug 2011 08:59 PM |
| (One more spot available. Nother guy submitted.) |
|
|
| Report Abuse |
|
|