Amarant: Unknown Path
- Thread starter Cevrik777
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Cevrik777
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- #462
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Yes, I will be writing within the next day or so. I didn't mean to have A take on such a meaning as "Rip a tentacle apart with your teeth" but more so "Don't give in no matter what".
Either way, I was forced to make X act as a "dumbed down" A in order to actually have the votes come to a consensus.
Yes, I will be writing within the next day or so. I didn't mean to have A take on such a meaning as "Rip a tentacle apart with your teeth" but more so "Don't give in no matter what".
Either way, I was forced to make X act as a "dumbed down" A in order to actually have the votes come to a consensus.
OP
Cevrik777
Sex Demon
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2011
- Messages
- 276
- Reputation score
- 22
- Thread Starter
- #463
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Results:
You can’t give in, you won’t give in – you haven't taken a single thing lying down, haven’t backed down when pressed, and have not given up when confronted with difficult odds. No, you’ll fight this thing to the bitter end…
At the moment, three tentacles have coiled themselves around you: One around your neck, one around your arm, and the third completely wrapped around your leg, from ankle to hip. The last one has stopped for now, its tip ending near your hip bone, but the entire length still elicits unwanted feelings as it grips and pulls at you. Not only that, but as it has now wrapped along your leg many times over, a section of it has nestled in between your thighs, the length pushing up against your groin as it tenses and pulls at your form. You are able to keep these mental threats at bay for now, but are alarmed at just how strong it feels now that it is completely coiled around it; even though it doesn’t use that much force, you can tell it could crush your leg if it really wanted to – you try to put the thought from your mind as you focus on figuring out how to free yourself from such a mess.
Unfortunately, the pain as your body is dragged down the stairs also threatens your focus, your shirt ripping as your ribs and back turn raw from the stone steps as you’re pulled further and further downwards. You are now halfway between Beatrice and the fiend itself. The light is too dim for you to notice, but subtle streaks of red are left behind on each stair as you continue your descent, pain and pleasure working against you in tandem.
The tentacle in your throat however, is by far the most pressing matter, the piece of flesh threatening your gag reflex almost every time it pushes into your mouth. You have tried biting into it but it proves too tough, the tentacle around your neck tightening at your display of resistance. It doesn’t dive down your throat, but seems content to simply piston the tip in and out of your orifice, the girth of it quite manageable, fortunately. As for what it hopes to gain, you are still unsure of, but at least it isn’t trying to kill you… yet. Still, the musk that seems to be excreted by the tentacle smells and tastes… good, the essence pouring over your tongue with each of its thrusts, a bit dripping down your throat and drops accumulating around the edges of your lips and it glides passed them. It would be so easy, you think, to simply lay back… give in… and let this thing to what it will, but you haven’t fallen that low yet!
With all the threats your mind faces – the pain, the pleasure, the intoxicating effect of its aroma – you still manage to keep your mind clear enough to formulate a plan: Out of all the tentacles that threaten you, the biggest threat is the one coiled about your throat. Your sword arm is pretty battered at the moment, your arm being dragged behind your body as it forcefully drags you down to the beast’s body. Still, you can’t simply let the situation get any worse and prepare to strike. It’s hard to see with the dark piece of flesh lodged in your mouth, but you have a general idea of where the rest of the tentacle is – if you can hit it… you’re just a little bit closer to being free.
You bring up your sword the best you can, twisting your head as far as you can manage to get a clear view of the tendril and setting the blade up into the air, and bring the steel down. The metal cuts through the air, the force of the blade bringing it down until it clangs against the stone steps. Unfortunately, you felt no resistance as you brought the blade down and the tentacle in your mouth continues to piston between your lips – your blade missed its mark, whether it was due to your bumpy descent or your lack of vision, you don’t know. You curse internally, letting out a frustrated moan that’s muffled by the invading appendage. You won’t be denied however, and try again, this time extending your arm to the point of nerve-racking pain. You reach forward with your body, even as your hip grinds into the stone below you, and bring down it down again and can feel the satisfying feeling of your blade slowing for just a second as it cuts through the muscled limb.
Immediately, the tentacle in your mouth retreats and uncoils from your neck, allowing you to breathe regularly now. Still, you almost didn’t notice as your tongue flicked out ever so slightly to lap at what remained of the liquid that remained behind from the tentacle. You look up and see the damaged limb whip around as it writhes in pain, your wound in plain sight as you see that you only cut through half of it, not quite managing to sever it completely. The tentacles respond automatically to the threat, the one around your left arm immediately letting go and seeking out your sword arm. You try and fend it off, even taking a swing at it, but it manages to latch onto your forearm, coiling around and effectively disabling your weapon.
You look back up at the one you had cut and see it still wriggling around a bit more, panicked, before eventually retreating back behind the core of the beast itself. That is when you notice that you have reached the bottom of the steps and are almost right next to the central mass at which all these tendrils connect. You’re still temporarily stunned from the pain as they give one last pull, feeling yourself dragged up against the beast itself, one leg on either side of it as you lie on your back.
The sight of such a mass of black so close was intimidating, unsure if where the light cast by the rod on your belt ended was where the beast did as well, or if such a creature truly stood so tall that the light failed to reach the top of it. To think of such a massive form not only looming over you was terrifying. At the moment, you are almost completely drowned in its form, most of your sight filled by the creature’s ink-like body.
It didn’t resemble anything even remotely human: just a giant, black blob with a myriad of tentacles attached to its form and scorched sections of flesh the only points of reference over its otherwise smooth exterior. It has no eyes that you can see, apparently able to see using some other method. Its base is covered with what seem to be dozens, if not hundreds, of smaller, thinner tendrils, each one about a foot long in length.
The tentacle around your leg, to your surprise, actually lets go, but not before you feel dozens of the smaller tendrils lining its base eagerly grasp at your legs. It feels like a hundred hands simultaneously reaching out and groping your calves and thighs, the thin strands either wrapping around your legs or weaving across your skin in a greedy frenzy. Those who had a firm grasp on you pulled you in closer, while those that didn’t wriggled about, trying to find a patch of skin to touch and grope. By this point, your stockings are completely ruined barely a strand left connecting that patches above your thighs to those around your calves. The sensations caused by the tendrils were almost blinding, all those feelings from earlier hitting harder than ever as they continue to move about. Not only do they convulse and slide across your legs, but the flurry of action around your groin continues to push against the fabric of your undergarments, the smaller tentacles winding and twisting against your most sensitive areas through the, now moist, cloth.
To your surprise, you even moan a bit as your body responds to the massive amount of stimuli. Yet again, thoughts of simply lying back and allowing this endeavor to proceed along its course enter your mind as you feel one of the larger tentacles enter your shirt, ripping the front open, and slowly weave its way across your midriff and between your breasts before slipping to the side and under you. It would be so easy to simply give in… but, as before, does your dignity power through and you say to yourself “No! I cannot let this thing win! You longer shed any tears, seeing the beasts actions embarrassment no more, but as an attack you must defend against.
You try and think of some way to fight back, some way to fend it off, but are in a very unfortunate situation as you see another of the larger tentacles floating towards your mouth. You’ll have to act, but realize your options are limited with your sword arm pinned down. Still, your other arm is free now and you haven’t managed to lose your pack yet…
Choices:
STATS: Jacqueline*
STATS: Beatrice
Results:
X/A – fight back, don’t give up, and above all, don’t give in.
-I also edited the “Lone Fighter” trait to more properly reflect its benefits. It is now labeled as “Never Outnumbered”.
Also, I apologize... as while I read over this again, it is obvious to me it simply does not flow at all and feels a bit rushed - definitely not the best I could have written it. I promise better quality in future entries.
-I also edited the “Lone Fighter” trait to more properly reflect its benefits. It is now labeled as “Never Outnumbered”.
Also, I apologize... as while I read over this again, it is obvious to me it simply does not flow at all and feels a bit rushed - definitely not the best I could have written it. I promise better quality in future entries.
You can’t give in, you won’t give in – you haven't taken a single thing lying down, haven’t backed down when pressed, and have not given up when confronted with difficult odds. No, you’ll fight this thing to the bitter end…
At the moment, three tentacles have coiled themselves around you: One around your neck, one around your arm, and the third completely wrapped around your leg, from ankle to hip. The last one has stopped for now, its tip ending near your hip bone, but the entire length still elicits unwanted feelings as it grips and pulls at you. Not only that, but as it has now wrapped along your leg many times over, a section of it has nestled in between your thighs, the length pushing up against your groin as it tenses and pulls at your form. You are able to keep these mental threats at bay for now, but are alarmed at just how strong it feels now that it is completely coiled around it; even though it doesn’t use that much force, you can tell it could crush your leg if it really wanted to – you try to put the thought from your mind as you focus on figuring out how to free yourself from such a mess.
Unfortunately, the pain as your body is dragged down the stairs also threatens your focus, your shirt ripping as your ribs and back turn raw from the stone steps as you’re pulled further and further downwards. You are now halfway between Beatrice and the fiend itself. The light is too dim for you to notice, but subtle streaks of red are left behind on each stair as you continue your descent, pain and pleasure working against you in tandem.
The tentacle in your throat however, is by far the most pressing matter, the piece of flesh threatening your gag reflex almost every time it pushes into your mouth. You have tried biting into it but it proves too tough, the tentacle around your neck tightening at your display of resistance. It doesn’t dive down your throat, but seems content to simply piston the tip in and out of your orifice, the girth of it quite manageable, fortunately. As for what it hopes to gain, you are still unsure of, but at least it isn’t trying to kill you… yet. Still, the musk that seems to be excreted by the tentacle smells and tastes… good, the essence pouring over your tongue with each of its thrusts, a bit dripping down your throat and drops accumulating around the edges of your lips and it glides passed them. It would be so easy, you think, to simply lay back… give in… and let this thing to what it will, but you haven’t fallen that low yet!
With all the threats your mind faces – the pain, the pleasure, the intoxicating effect of its aroma – you still manage to keep your mind clear enough to formulate a plan: Out of all the tentacles that threaten you, the biggest threat is the one coiled about your throat. Your sword arm is pretty battered at the moment, your arm being dragged behind your body as it forcefully drags you down to the beast’s body. Still, you can’t simply let the situation get any worse and prepare to strike. It’s hard to see with the dark piece of flesh lodged in your mouth, but you have a general idea of where the rest of the tentacle is – if you can hit it… you’re just a little bit closer to being free.
You bring up your sword the best you can, twisting your head as far as you can manage to get a clear view of the tendril and setting the blade up into the air, and bring the steel down. The metal cuts through the air, the force of the blade bringing it down until it clangs against the stone steps. Unfortunately, you felt no resistance as you brought the blade down and the tentacle in your mouth continues to piston between your lips – your blade missed its mark, whether it was due to your bumpy descent or your lack of vision, you don’t know. You curse internally, letting out a frustrated moan that’s muffled by the invading appendage. You won’t be denied however, and try again, this time extending your arm to the point of nerve-racking pain. You reach forward with your body, even as your hip grinds into the stone below you, and bring down it down again and can feel the satisfying feeling of your blade slowing for just a second as it cuts through the muscled limb.
Immediately, the tentacle in your mouth retreats and uncoils from your neck, allowing you to breathe regularly now. Still, you almost didn’t notice as your tongue flicked out ever so slightly to lap at what remained of the liquid that remained behind from the tentacle. You look up and see the damaged limb whip around as it writhes in pain, your wound in plain sight as you see that you only cut through half of it, not quite managing to sever it completely. The tentacles respond automatically to the threat, the one around your left arm immediately letting go and seeking out your sword arm. You try and fend it off, even taking a swing at it, but it manages to latch onto your forearm, coiling around and effectively disabling your weapon.
You look back up at the one you had cut and see it still wriggling around a bit more, panicked, before eventually retreating back behind the core of the beast itself. That is when you notice that you have reached the bottom of the steps and are almost right next to the central mass at which all these tendrils connect. You’re still temporarily stunned from the pain as they give one last pull, feeling yourself dragged up against the beast itself, one leg on either side of it as you lie on your back.
The sight of such a mass of black so close was intimidating, unsure if where the light cast by the rod on your belt ended was where the beast did as well, or if such a creature truly stood so tall that the light failed to reach the top of it. To think of such a massive form not only looming over you was terrifying. At the moment, you are almost completely drowned in its form, most of your sight filled by the creature’s ink-like body.
It didn’t resemble anything even remotely human: just a giant, black blob with a myriad of tentacles attached to its form and scorched sections of flesh the only points of reference over its otherwise smooth exterior. It has no eyes that you can see, apparently able to see using some other method. Its base is covered with what seem to be dozens, if not hundreds, of smaller, thinner tendrils, each one about a foot long in length.
The tentacle around your leg, to your surprise, actually lets go, but not before you feel dozens of the smaller tendrils lining its base eagerly grasp at your legs. It feels like a hundred hands simultaneously reaching out and groping your calves and thighs, the thin strands either wrapping around your legs or weaving across your skin in a greedy frenzy. Those who had a firm grasp on you pulled you in closer, while those that didn’t wriggled about, trying to find a patch of skin to touch and grope. By this point, your stockings are completely ruined barely a strand left connecting that patches above your thighs to those around your calves. The sensations caused by the tendrils were almost blinding, all those feelings from earlier hitting harder than ever as they continue to move about. Not only do they convulse and slide across your legs, but the flurry of action around your groin continues to push against the fabric of your undergarments, the smaller tentacles winding and twisting against your most sensitive areas through the, now moist, cloth.
To your surprise, you even moan a bit as your body responds to the massive amount of stimuli. Yet again, thoughts of simply lying back and allowing this endeavor to proceed along its course enter your mind as you feel one of the larger tentacles enter your shirt, ripping the front open, and slowly weave its way across your midriff and between your breasts before slipping to the side and under you. It would be so easy to simply give in… but, as before, does your dignity power through and you say to yourself “No! I cannot let this thing win! You longer shed any tears, seeing the beasts actions embarrassment no more, but as an attack you must defend against.
You try and think of some way to fight back, some way to fend it off, but are in a very unfortunate situation as you see another of the larger tentacles floating towards your mouth. You’ll have to act, but realize your options are limited with your sword arm pinned down. Still, your other arm is free now and you haven’t managed to lose your pack yet…
Choices:
Decide on a course of action.
Primary Vote: How do you respond?
Open Action: How do you fight back? Do you fight back…?
Z) Minor Action. Unavailable[ U]
---
Minor Actions Explanation:
An explanation of crystals can be found on the first post.
Primary Vote: How do you respond?
Open Action: How do you fight back? Do you fight back…?
Z) Minor Action. Unavailable[ U]
---
Minor Actions Explanation:
Minor Actions are small actions you may do in addition to your Primary Vote (A, B, C, etc.). They will usually just provide you with additional information or perhaps, in rare circumstances, an item. If it would cause an encounter or runs the risk of causing general havoc then it's best to put it as an additional detail under primary vote.
Examples are asking someone a simple question, inspecting an object or feature in the environment, checking on or using an item in your bag, or changing some feature on your person. (i.e. Putting your hair into ponytail - See: Sections explained > Appearance)
They may help you, but please, try not to abuse the system. Trying to examine a couple objects in detail may be fine, but picking every item off the shelf in a store can get a bit... tedious.
And as always: I retain the right to reject them however much it may pain me to do so...
Examples are asking someone a simple question, inspecting an object or feature in the environment, checking on or using an item in your bag, or changing some feature on your person. (i.e. Putting your hair into ponytail - See: Sections explained > Appearance)
They may help you, but please, try not to abuse the system. Trying to examine a couple objects in detail may be fine, but picking every item off the shelf in a store can get a bit... tedious.
And as always: I retain the right to reject them however much it may pain me to do so...
STATS: Jacqueline*
Current Inventory:
Gold: 8
-Ticket from Bayton to Respeiro. 1st Class.
-Red Discrete Crystal x3
-White Discrete Crystal x2
-Note from “J”
-Lock-pick.
-Metallic Brooch (Type:?)
-Leather Dress-Boots.
-Leather dress Gloves. Brown. Covered in Blood
-Compass.
-Goblin Potion. Unknown Effect.
-Dark Green Potion. Highly negative effect.
-Teal Potion. "Isn't Harmful".
-Black Potion. Unknown effect
-Small container of water. Professionally Made.
-Three burning rods. Can be lit on fire to produce light. One has been extinguished. One in belt
-Wax fused cloth. Solid lump of rock-hard wax. Has medallion/necklace inside it.
Weapons:
-Revolver. Single Action. Holds six Rounds. Holstered.
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder) Rotation: (Sp){E}> E,Sp,Sp,Sp
-Small skinning knife. 2 inch blade. In belt
-Short-sword. Has scabbard fastened to left hip. In right hand.
-Rifle. Bolt Action. Holds one round. Lying on the Stairs.
-Rounds: x0
-Dagger. 9 inch Blade. Scabbard fastened in front of Holster. Sheathed
Apparel:
-Belt & Holster. Holster secured on right hip. Knife between buckle folds.
-Small Belt-Pouch 1: Contains - Shards of Metal. Can be used as caltrops= Recoverable.
-Small Belt-Pouch 2: Contains - Healing Potion, Goblin Potion, Dark Green Potion, Teal Potion, Black Potion.
-Skirt. Ends just above the knees. Black.
-Shirt. Buttoned. Large tear above left breast, slightly revealing bra beneath. Soaked with a bit of ghoul’s blood.
-Vest. Dark Leather. Torn open. Loose.
-Leather Vambraces. Covers the forearms.
-Sturdy Leather Gloves.
-Sturdy Boots. Brown Leather. Right covered in Ghoul’s blood.
-Bra. Black. Silk.
-Underwear. Black. Silk.
-Stockings. Transparent. Black. Almost completely torn. Right leg soaked with ghoul blood.
Abilities/Effects:
- Recovering Amnesiac: You have lost your memory but are becoming more knowledgeable about the world.
- Revolver Master : Few can best your aim with a revolver.
- Preemptive Tactics: When ambushing an enemy, advantageous details about the environment and the target(s) in question become apparent and you are granted a bonus on the first strike.
- Never Outnumbered: You are experienced in fighting against greater numbers and can think clearly while doing so.
- Ghoul Anatomy I: "The head is key: destroying it is the only effective way to stop them." -Beatrice
Physical Appearance:
-Face smudged with ghoul saliva and a bit of ghoul’s blood.
-Red/Auburn Hair: Little longer than “Shoulder Length”. Messy, dirtied. Bedraggled look. Coated with ghoul’s blood.
-~5’ 7” 140lbs/63Kg. 34C
-Bullet wound scar on left abdomen.
-Right side of torso bloodied and bruised.
-Right leg covered with dried ghoul blood.
Crystal explanations can be found in the first post.
Explanation of Sections:
Gold: 8
-Ticket from Bayton to Respeiro. 1st Class.
-Red Discrete Crystal x3
-White Discrete Crystal x2
-Note from “J”
-Lock-pick.
-Metallic Brooch (Type:?)
-Leather Dress-Boots.
-Leather dress Gloves. Brown. Covered in Blood
-Compass.
-Goblin Potion. Unknown Effect.
-Dark Green Potion. Highly negative effect.
-Teal Potion. "Isn't Harmful".
-Black Potion. Unknown effect
-Small container of water. Professionally Made.
-Three burning rods. Can be lit on fire to produce light. One has been extinguished. One in belt
-Wax fused cloth. Solid lump of rock-hard wax. Has medallion/necklace inside it.
Weapons:
-Revolver. Single Action. Holds six Rounds. Holstered.
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder) Rotation: (Sp){E}> E,Sp,Sp,Sp
-Small skinning knife. 2 inch blade. In belt
-Short-sword. Has scabbard fastened to left hip. In right hand.
-Rifle. Bolt Action. Holds one round. Lying on the Stairs.
-Rounds: x0
-Dagger. 9 inch Blade. Scabbard fastened in front of Holster. Sheathed
Apparel:
-Belt & Holster. Holster secured on right hip. Knife between buckle folds.
-Small Belt-Pouch 1: Contains - Shards of Metal. Can be used as caltrops= Recoverable.
-Small Belt-Pouch 2: Contains - Healing Potion, Goblin Potion, Dark Green Potion, Teal Potion, Black Potion.
-Skirt. Ends just above the knees. Black.
-Shirt. Buttoned. Large tear above left breast, slightly revealing bra beneath. Soaked with a bit of ghoul’s blood.
-Vest. Dark Leather. Torn open. Loose.
-Leather Vambraces. Covers the forearms.
-Sturdy Leather Gloves.
-Sturdy Boots. Brown Leather. Right covered in Ghoul’s blood.
-Bra. Black. Silk.
-Underwear. Black. Silk.
-Stockings. Transparent. Black. Almost completely torn. Right leg soaked with ghoul blood.
Abilities/Effects:
- Recovering Amnesiac: You have lost your memory but are becoming more knowledgeable about the world.
- Revolver Master : Few can best your aim with a revolver.
- Preemptive Tactics: When ambushing an enemy, advantageous details about the environment and the target(s) in question become apparent and you are granted a bonus on the first strike.
- Never Outnumbered: You are experienced in fighting against greater numbers and can think clearly while doing so.
- Ghoul Anatomy I: "The head is key: destroying it is the only effective way to stop them." -Beatrice
Physical Appearance:
-Face smudged with ghoul saliva and a bit of ghoul’s blood.
-Red/Auburn Hair: Little longer than “Shoulder Length”. Messy, dirtied. Bedraggled look. Coated with ghoul’s blood.
-~5’ 7” 140lbs/63Kg. 34C
-Bullet wound scar on left abdomen.
-Right side of torso bloodied and bruised.
-Right leg covered with dried ghoul blood.
Crystal explanations can be found in the first post.
Explanation of Sections:
A "*" next to the "STATS" title will denote that there has been a modification since the last post.
A blue + will denote that an item has been gained.
A red - will denote that an item has been lost or destroyed.
Current Inventory: What you have with you.
Weapons: Objects that may be used to inflict harm on opponents. Note, that these are your primary means of damaging an enemy in combat but you may use other items you possess or objects in the environment in creative ways. This includes your bare hands and feet.
To display the status of the cylinder in the revolver, I have added a simple set of letters to let you guys know exactly what the state of it is between posts. It currently goes:
Cylinder: (Chamber aligned with barrel){Next shot once hammer is cocked}>Remaining chambers>
Sp = Spent casing. L = Loaded/Live round. E = Empty.
So, “ Rotation: (Sp){L} >L,L,E,E ” Means that you have a casing now lined up with the barrel, the next shot will be live once you pull the hammer, and then you have two more rounds before you’re empty.
Apparel: Clothes that are currently being worn. Any damage will be detailed as well. Clothing not being worn will be held in your inventory. A “???” symbol denotes the knowledge of it being worn, but no specific details are known.
Abilities/Effects: Special abilities possessed by the character. Some may be directly linked with items/pieces of clothing. Also lists passive effects present upon the character, including passive skills and negative conditions.
Physical Appearance: A basic overview of the physical features of your character.
Some aspects may be altered via a minor action if necessary requirements are met (Tying hair up into a ponytail), or against the character’s will depending on the nature of the alteration.
A blue + will denote that an item has been gained.
A red - will denote that an item has been lost or destroyed.
Current Inventory: What you have with you.
Weapons: Objects that may be used to inflict harm on opponents. Note, that these are your primary means of damaging an enemy in combat but you may use other items you possess or objects in the environment in creative ways. This includes your bare hands and feet.
To display the status of the cylinder in the revolver, I have added a simple set of letters to let you guys know exactly what the state of it is between posts. It currently goes:
Cylinder: (Chamber aligned with barrel){Next shot once hammer is cocked}>Remaining chambers>
Sp = Spent casing. L = Loaded/Live round. E = Empty.
So, “ Rotation: (Sp){L} >L,L,E,E ” Means that you have a casing now lined up with the barrel, the next shot will be live once you pull the hammer, and then you have two more rounds before you’re empty.
Apparel: Clothes that are currently being worn. Any damage will be detailed as well. Clothing not being worn will be held in your inventory. A “???” symbol denotes the knowledge of it being worn, but no specific details are known.
Abilities/Effects: Special abilities possessed by the character. Some may be directly linked with items/pieces of clothing. Also lists passive effects present upon the character, including passive skills and negative conditions.
Physical Appearance: A basic overview of the physical features of your character.
Some aspects may be altered via a minor action if necessary requirements are met (Tying hair up into a ponytail), or against the character’s will depending on the nature of the alteration.
STATS: Beatrice
Current Inventory:
Gold: (?)
-Dried meat (x2)
-Canteen: Holds water.
-Blanket.
-Compass
-Piece of Chalk
-Quill
-Parchment. 4 sheets.
-Corked Inkwell
-Flint & Tinder.
-Scroll
-Empty Healing Potion.
-Crowbar. Three ft. long. Steel. Curved hook on one end and a slightly angled tip on the other. Slightly Bent.
Weapons:
-Long-barreled Revolver. Single Action. Swing-out Cylinder. Holds five Rounds. In bag
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder)
-Shotgun. Break action. Two barrels. Holds 2 shells. Slung across left shoulder
-Shells: x0 (0 loaded)
-Pick. Steel. Small. Shaft is 1 foot long. In right hand
Apparel:
-Thigh Holster: Holds Long-barreled revolver.
-Blue button up shirt. Buttoned. Long sleeved. Cloth. Torn open around breasts.
-Belt 1. Supports pouch 1. Crowbar hanging from hip.
-Belt 2. Supports pouch 2. Holds: Small pick on left hip.
-Pouch 1. Contains: Canteen.
-Left thigh Belt. Holds: Three burning rods.
-Left leather spaulder.
-Leather vambraces.
-Cloth pants. down to ankle. Hole ripped open revealing groin.
-Leather chaps. Perfect for riding and adds protection around your legs. Drenched with semen.
-Sturdy Boots.
-Backpack.
Abilities/Effects:
- Recently Gangraped: Your entire body is covered with filth and secretions from your assailants and you are very weak of body and of mind.
- Incapacitated: Ghoul poison flows through your veins and you are barely able to stand, let alone fight.
- Guilty pleasure: …….
- Artificer: A member of the Artificer's Guild, a guild known for studying magic and lost technology.
- Reclaimer: Reclaimer rank: You are a hunter of the eldritch and scour lost ruins and abandoned pieces of civilization for history and technology of old.
- Revolver Training I: "Better... but there's always perfection." -Smith Mordel
- Shotgun Training II: "You're almost as good as me now, 'Trice!" -Flint
- Half-Orc: An orc half breed. Born from the coupling of an orc and a human. You, luckily, got more from your mother's side.
- Meticulous: You are one for planning and preparation, and aren't good at improvising when things don't go as planned.
- Firearm Favored: Confident with a gun in your hand, but you find yourself quite distressed when fighting without one.
- Bayton Raised: Born and raised in the pirate city you learn certain skills and rules... or guidelines, rather.
- Curious of Alchemy: You can't truly make potions, but you can most likely discern potion from poison.
- Bookworm: You not only read, you take pleasure in acquiring any new information.
- Gunsmith/Tinkerer II: Knowledge on how to fix and repair many different types of firearms and mechanical devices.
Physical Appearance:
-Snow-white hair: Slicked back. Cut just above the neck. Stiff from ghoul’s semen.
-Sharp face, with narrow, green eyes. Remnants of semen of spit cover most of it.
- ~6' 2" 193lbs/87Kg 44DD
-Bullet wound scar on right forearm
-Large blade scar on right abdomen.
-Large blade scar on left thigh.
-Small tusks protruding from lower lips, an inch from the gum-line.
-Entire body covered in ghoul’s semen and spit.
Gold: (?)
-Dried meat (x2)
-Canteen: Holds water.
-Blanket.
-Compass
-Piece of Chalk
-Quill
-Parchment. 4 sheets.
-Corked Inkwell
-Flint & Tinder.
-Scroll
-Empty Healing Potion.
-Crowbar. Three ft. long. Steel. Curved hook on one end and a slightly angled tip on the other. Slightly Bent.
Weapons:
-Long-barreled Revolver. Single Action. Swing-out Cylinder. Holds five Rounds. In bag
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder)
-Shotgun. Break action. Two barrels. Holds 2 shells. Slung across left shoulder
-Shells: x0 (0 loaded)
-Pick. Steel. Small. Shaft is 1 foot long. In right hand
Apparel:
-Thigh Holster: Holds Long-barreled revolver.
-Blue button up shirt. Buttoned. Long sleeved. Cloth. Torn open around breasts.
-Belt 1. Supports pouch 1. Crowbar hanging from hip.
-Belt 2. Supports pouch 2. Holds: Small pick on left hip.
-Pouch 1. Contains: Canteen.
-Left thigh Belt. Holds: Three burning rods.
-Left leather spaulder.
-Leather vambraces.
-Cloth pants. down to ankle. Hole ripped open revealing groin.
-Leather chaps. Perfect for riding and adds protection around your legs. Drenched with semen.
-Sturdy Boots.
-Backpack.
Abilities/Effects:
- Recently Gangraped: Your entire body is covered with filth and secretions from your assailants and you are very weak of body and of mind.
- Incapacitated: Ghoul poison flows through your veins and you are barely able to stand, let alone fight.
- Guilty pleasure: …….
- Artificer: A member of the Artificer's Guild, a guild known for studying magic and lost technology.
- Reclaimer: Reclaimer rank: You are a hunter of the eldritch and scour lost ruins and abandoned pieces of civilization for history and technology of old.
- Revolver Training I: "Better... but there's always perfection." -Smith Mordel
- Shotgun Training II: "You're almost as good as me now, 'Trice!" -Flint
- Half-Orc: An orc half breed. Born from the coupling of an orc and a human. You, luckily, got more from your mother's side.
- Meticulous: You are one for planning and preparation, and aren't good at improvising when things don't go as planned.
- Firearm Favored: Confident with a gun in your hand, but you find yourself quite distressed when fighting without one.
- Bayton Raised: Born and raised in the pirate city you learn certain skills and rules... or guidelines, rather.
- Curious of Alchemy: You can't truly make potions, but you can most likely discern potion from poison.
- Bookworm: You not only read, you take pleasure in acquiring any new information.
- Gunsmith/Tinkerer II: Knowledge on how to fix and repair many different types of firearms and mechanical devices.
Physical Appearance:
-Snow-white hair: Slicked back. Cut just above the neck. Stiff from ghoul’s semen.
-Sharp face, with narrow, green eyes. Remnants of semen of spit cover most of it.
- ~6' 2" 193lbs/87Kg 44DD
-Bullet wound scar on right forearm
-Large blade scar on right abdomen.
-Large blade scar on left thigh.
-Small tusks protruding from lower lips, an inch from the gum-line.
-Entire body covered in ghoul’s semen and spit.
Last edited:
- Joined
- Nov 10, 2008
- Messages
- 16,468
- Reputation score
- 430
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Hrm. Well, hold still for a few seconds waiting to react, and then try to use the knife in ye right hand to get the tentacle around the left to let go with some vigorous stabbing. If that works, or I guess even if it doesn't but ye right arm remains free, see how ye big ball of inky blackness likes being thrust into.
Hrm. Well, hold still for a few seconds waiting to react, and then try to use the knife in ye right hand to get the tentacle around the left to let go with some vigorous stabbing. If that works, or I guess even if it doesn't but ye right arm remains free, see how ye big ball of inky blackness likes being thrust into.
Gear47demon
Tentacle God
- Joined
- May 15, 2013
- Messages
- 793
- Reputation score
- 35
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Ditto, though I would like to add thrusting the sword into the main body after drawing the dagger and slicing at the tentacles binding the sword arm, should nothing else prevent Jacqueline from doing so. At that point, slice and dice around the tentacles binding her torso and legs first.
Last edited:
OP
Cevrik777
Sex Demon
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2011
- Messages
- 276
- Reputation score
- 22
- Thread Starter
- #469
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
It’s a little late, but here it is - an entry to match those of Gear:
Results:
With tentacles coiling around your body and bound between your breasts, you find yourself in a most precarious position. The tendrils that bind your legs make the situation even more dire as, not only do they strap you to the beast itself, but their frantic movements end up stimulating you through the thin material of your undergarments – hopefully, they don’t rip through them as they did your stockings. You still have a hold of your sword but unfortunately, your arm is pinned, one of the tentacles seeing to the threat after you severed the one violating your mouth. You don’t seem to have much of a respite however, as another appears to be seeking to replace it. Overall, a disheartening scenario, but not one you’ll give up on yet.
With the sword your best way of inflicting any damage, you know you need to set your sword arm free and go for the dagger still at your hip. You reach over yourself – and the tentacle across your chest - and rip the blade from its sheath. The blade itself is only sharp on one side, the same side tapered down to the point, designed for slashing more than thrusting – a perfect tool for the job at hand.
Dagger at the ready, you have but to only reach up and swing, slashing at the thick strand as it makes its way from the gigantic mass. The steel connects, dipping into the flesh and splitting a fine valley in the muscled limb. You didn’t manage to sever it and you can feel its grip on your arm tense as it quivers in pain, constantly switching between a state of tension and crazed activity. The other tentacle stops suddenly, looking as though it is undergoing the same trauma. However, the one that is wounded doesn’t retreat like the last one; you don’t why but you don’t wait for it to get away and take another swing at it. The blade lands off-target, simply recreating a similar wound in another location. You attack for a third time but notice an unusual sensation, almost like a tremor. It isn’t audible but more of something you feel emanating from the beast itself, almost like an inaudible bellow. With it, the tentacle around your torso begins to constrict and rise, lifting your torso off the ground before suddenly whipping back down, your body impacting with the ground.
You let out an audible “Oof!” as the wind is knocked out of you, gasping for breath. You try and recover, now noticing spots in your vision and a sharp pulse in the back of your head. Your actions seem delayed, your blade striking where your target had been a second ago. You have trouble paying attention, the only sensation you’re immediately aware of being the ever increasing pressure the tendril around your torso is applying. You can feel it weave across your skin as it holds you in its serpentine embrace, continuing to wind about your body, even pinning your arms to your sides before the tip moves on towards you head. Your vision has gained its clarity back, but only just in time to see the floating tendril from earlier darting along your body for your open mouth. You try and clamp your jaw shut, teeth snapping together as the muscle pushes against them. You shift your head back and forth as you think carefully how to go about attacking the tendril, its length lying against your body – you don’t want to risk stabbing yourself. The muscle keeps pushing against your entrance, lips giving way as the tip tries to force itself between your teeth – it will not be denied.
Your body is once again lifted before it comes crashing back down into the stone floor, the tentacle beneath you doing little to soften the blow. You manage to tilt your head forward this time, avoiding a concussion, but your diaphragm isn’t as lucky, spasming again as you involuntarily gasp for air. The space between your teeth is small but your shock proves to be enough as the tendril dives into your mouth. Having now claimed its prize, it resumes the actions of the one before it, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. Shame and a reluctant heat begin to well up in you again, the feelings hitting you hard after their temporary absence. Every contour and groove of its black flesh glides across your lips as its assault continues, the details all extraordinarily tangible. This, combined with what transpires under your skirt, build upon the threat against your mind, these actions causing a sense of wanting, a sense of need in your loins.
It would be so easy to give in – any lesser individual would – but you struggle against the constricting tendrils, attempting to bring your dagger to bear. Unfortunately, you can’t get a good angle with your arms as they are, pinned, with little chance of breaking your bindings. You twist your wrist in every direction it can go but find your blade to simply be out of reach. You try with your sword arm, hoping you might be able to overpower the wounded tendril, but find that, even in its weakened state, you’re unable to overpower it.
As you try and fight, your mind is continually drawn back to the tendril’s presence, the familiar taste rushing back to you as whatever essence coating the intruder seeps into your tongue. You try and depress your tongue in an effort to avoid the taste, but find it impossible to escape from the constant secretions. It dives into your mouth with even more fervor than the previous one, the motions much more haphazard this time as a few lines of spittle run down your chin and across your cheeks, laden with the tentacle’s excretions. Your eyes flutter a bit, open eyes feeling like an exhaustive burden. A moan wells up from deep within your throat, but you cut it short, reminding yourself of the situation you’re in. Even then, the tendrils under your skirt and the muscle between your lips makes a part of you want to forget.
Your arms and wrists keep pushing and twisting about as you keep struggling to free yourself, although, some may say it was just for show at this point. You continue your struggle but are caught off guard as part of your sight fades out, turning to black. You are confused for a second until you feel the eerie sensation of a tentacle wrapping across your head, its girth passing over one of your eyes as it encircles your head. Your breathing picks up not only from the pleasure you feel, but also due to the foreboding nature of this tendril wrapping across your face. It appears to be the one constricting your torso and upper arms, the feeling of its advance felt across your stomach, arms and breasts as it continues to entwine your figure. The tip parts your hair as it wraps around, then dipping back behind your head and finally coming around to coil about your neck, the tip idly brushing against your cheek. You’re confused at the beast’s fascination with your mouth and face, its attentions to them almost as strange as the skull which it held before. It was then that another emotion was added to already complex mix of fear, confusion, shame, embarrassment, anger, and lust: Horror.
You didn’t want to believe such a connection existed, but then what other explanation would there be? Your mind fought with itself for an answer, or some sort of solace, some shred of evidence that this creature, now without its skull from before, now sees yours as some sort of prize… a trophy to take after whatever ritual this is has concluded. Surely it wouldn’t kill you, only using you to satisfy whatever twisted desires it has. Still, the thought of what could happen…
A part of you couldn’t keep calm, whatever dam that held your fears in place began to crack as you frantically tried to break free; your arms and legs tensing against the flesh that held them in place, your head whipping back and forth, trying to dislodge the invader in your mouth. Muffled screams rang out and a few tears streamed down your face as you tried so desperately to break free of its grasp. The beast didn’t seem to care and seemed to even be spurred on by this sudden burst of defiance, the tentacle in your mouth picking up speed as the tendrils below spun into an even more furious whirlwind of activity. Your cheeks felt hot, both from the water welling up in your eyes and the undesired pleasure. Tears fell from your one, uncovered eye, as you gazed down with an intense fear at what this creature was doing to you. You look up and down in horror, at everything before you: the tentacle in your mouth, the muscular limb that wove across your breasts and body, and the veil that is your skirt, underneath which, dozens of small tendrils writhed in a mass of movement, brushing up against your most sensitive region and driving you to the heights of ecstasy; They twisted about, pushing against the moist material that covered your lower pair of lips, and eliciting from you sensations that threatened to send you over the edge.
Thoughts play out over your mind and you are caught up in a haze of hysteria as undesired sensations wrack your body. You are ripped back to reality however, as you feel not only the tentacle in your mouth pick up its pace, but the one around your throat tighten its grip. At first, you thought the tension a punishment of some sort for struggling too much, but its intensity didn’t seem to let up, the muscle becoming tight around not only around your throat, but your body as well. You find it harder to breathe but still manage for the moment. The tentacle in your throat also threatens to choke you as it pushes a bit more into your mouth, the appendage causing you to gag. You involuntarily moan in both panic and pleasure, the sound muffled by the lodged member. The liquid sawing of the invading flesh soon joined the chorus of sounds resounding throughout the chamber, the creature itself staying silent. A dizziness bloomed within your head and the edges of your vision sparkled as you felt every sensation intensify, including both pain and pleasure.
You could barely even think anymore; with everything happening as it was, even your fear didn’t seem to inhibit the pleasure you felt, your anxiety perhaps even adding to it. Your eyes fell closed again, this time remaining shut as you became acutely aware of every little sensation: The tendrils gripping and pulling at your calves and thighs, their assault between your legs, the way your arms are being pinned, and the texture of the tentacle against your tongue, and occasionally the back of your throat, as its musk continues to wash over you – everything in exquisite detail.
The tentacle in your mouth quickens its pace as it pistons at an ever increasing pace. It was getting even harder to breathe now, but you still manage to focus enough to stay conscious. Your arms continued to push against your bindings and your body writhed back and forth, but this was no longer in an attempt to escape, instead, a reaction to your muscles being set alight. It was subtle at first, a throbbing in your pelvis that snowballed in its intensity. Your toes curl, legs extending out straight, and your entire body tenses as you throw your head back. It feels like your whole body is concentrated at one, singular point as certain parts of you convulse, a rippling sensation shooting out from your nether-lips through the rest of your form, again and again, sending wave after wave of bliss across your body. You can barely contain yourself as you let out a cry of ecstasy, the tentacles themselves seeming to call out as well, their forms twitching and shivering.
The scream you hear however, is not one of pleasure or of fear, nor was it muffled; instead, it was one of wrathful vengeance, a shrill cry that resonated through the corridor. The sound is confusing at first, your thoughts sluggish as everything starts to feel slower than usual; your muscles relax and all the tension dissipates as it leaves your form. You let out a long, low moan that vibrates out and through the invading member and can’t seem to do anything but lay there as it continues to piston between your lips at a frantic pace. Finally, you open your eyes and seethe source of the battle-cry:
The display seems to play out in slow-motion, as a woman, clad in but a few scraps of clothing, sails through the air. Her hair is short, silver strands weaving in the air as she flies over you. Her teeth are bared, sharp tusks revealed as she lets out her cry – overall, a savage visage filled with frenzied rage. In her hands, is a metal pick, an angular piece of steel that held on high and ready to be driven down into her foe. Beatrice, the woman you had saved, now attempts to return the favor.
As she flies overhead, the tentacle begins to slow down, but increases in the force with which it saws in between your lips. Its length begins to twitch, convulsing and shuddering; given the nature of its actions thus far, you have an idea of what may happen – you just hope Beatrice can do something before this loathsome act takes place.
You continue to watch as Beatrice flies completely over you, leaping from the stairs right onto the beast itself. Before she lands, she brings down her weapon, the pick piercing the central mass of the creature, the blade sinking all the way down to the hilt. You can feel the pain ripple throughout its appendages, pleasure and pain now mixing for this beast as they had for you. Its rhythm continues however, apparently too caught up in its actions to stop now. You let out another cry, but it is too late, as you can feel a release from the tentacles:
It doesn’t rush out like you expected, instead, a viscous material seems to seep out from the surface of every tendril, the material coating your legs, arms, chest, and face. You can feel the tentacle in your mouth convulse and pump the thick substance down your throat before sliding out; you cough and sputter as it coats your insides, your body trying to expel the fluid, but ending up having to swallow a decent amount of the effusion. It’s sticky and you can feel the substance cling a bit to the walls of your throat. You expected the taste to be vile, but find it somewhat… enjoyable, the frothy substance only a much more intense version of what you’ve been experiencing – your experience may have even been somewhat enjoyable if your body wasn’t fighting to breath and expel the slime at the same time.
As you attempt to rid yourself of the substance in your throat – whether by coughing it up or ingesting it – you feel the tendrils all across your body tense up before going limp and loosening their grip on you. Finally free, you sit up and bend forward, lurching as you continue hacking and coughing, eventually looking up to finally catch sight of Beatrice again:
The whole scene was a gruesome display as you saw the Artificer on top of the beast, driving her pick into the mass of flesh again and again. She keeps ahold of one of the tentacles you had wounded earlier, riding the squirming mass, wielding the pick like a butcher’s knife as she continues to hack away at it. The giant mass of black twists and turns, trying to swipe at her with its tentacles, but failing to strike the berserking half-orc – you wonder if, perhaps, its fun with you left it lethargic?
The sickening sounds of the steel piercing the muscled blob, as well as Beatrice’s grunts, echo throughout the corridor, her furious assault showing no signs of stopping as she rends open bloody valleys across the entire surface of her victim. The tentacles simply flop from side to side by this point, the creature nearing the end of its abominable life. You remain there as Beatrice continues her frenzy, still pressing the attack long after it stops moving…
……..
You have finally stopped coughing, now having an idea of how Beatrice must have felt like after you had rescued her. You are sitting on the steps leading up and out of the catacombs, simply resting and reflecting on the events that just transpired, wiping away at what remains of the beast’s discharge. Beatrice sits a few feet away, next to the butchered remains of the tentacle beast. You watch as she recovers from her frenzied onslaught, her shoulders rising and falling as she rests. The intoxicating effects from the inhabitants of this place have subsided for the most part for the both of you, only a bit of numbness still covering certain parts of your body. You wonder how you would have fared had you not saved her. Then again, had you not been carrying her, would you have managed to flee? You don’t want to think about it, but can’t help but wonder how things may have played out differently. Still… even considering what the two of you have been through, neither of you are severely wounded and seem to have come out of this relatively fine…
You continue to sit there for now, waiting for Beatrice. Before long, she stands, brushing some gore from her person, and walks over to you. She’s quite the sight… hell, you both are: Clothes ripped, covered in fluids, and having gone through hell. She looks down at you, a look on her face you can’t quite read.
“Are you hurt?”
You shake your head before letting out a solemn “No”.
Beatrice shifts around a bit before scanning the corridor. Eventually, she speaks up again:
“Good… let us move on, we can continue to recuperate outside – I think we’ve both had enough of this place.”
With that, she offers her hand to you. You take it and she pulls you to your feet. You manage to stand, but stumble a bit as your legs wobble beneath you – you guess you’re still a bit woozy from earlier. Beatrice catches you, steadying you against her frame. Confident you can stand on your own and that it was only a fluke, you attempt to wave her off, but she isn’t having any of it; Beatrice has to almost crouch to get under your arms, eventually putting your arm over her shoulder and making sure she has a steady grip. Side-by-side, the two of you begin to head up the stairs, leaving the catacombs behind…
It’s a little late, but here it is - an entry to match those of Gear:
Results:
-Retrieve your dagger and slash at the tentacle around your sword arm to try and free it.
-Afterwards, if sword arm is free, thrust into the beast itself.
-If sword arm is not free, continue to attack tentacles around torso and legs.
Damn was this satisfying (and time consuming) to write…
-Afterwards, if sword arm is free, thrust into the beast itself.
-If sword arm is not free, continue to attack tentacles around torso and legs.
Damn was this satisfying (and time consuming) to write…
With tentacles coiling around your body and bound between your breasts, you find yourself in a most precarious position. The tendrils that bind your legs make the situation even more dire as, not only do they strap you to the beast itself, but their frantic movements end up stimulating you through the thin material of your undergarments – hopefully, they don’t rip through them as they did your stockings. You still have a hold of your sword but unfortunately, your arm is pinned, one of the tentacles seeing to the threat after you severed the one violating your mouth. You don’t seem to have much of a respite however, as another appears to be seeking to replace it. Overall, a disheartening scenario, but not one you’ll give up on yet.
With the sword your best way of inflicting any damage, you know you need to set your sword arm free and go for the dagger still at your hip. You reach over yourself – and the tentacle across your chest - and rip the blade from its sheath. The blade itself is only sharp on one side, the same side tapered down to the point, designed for slashing more than thrusting – a perfect tool for the job at hand.
Dagger at the ready, you have but to only reach up and swing, slashing at the thick strand as it makes its way from the gigantic mass. The steel connects, dipping into the flesh and splitting a fine valley in the muscled limb. You didn’t manage to sever it and you can feel its grip on your arm tense as it quivers in pain, constantly switching between a state of tension and crazed activity. The other tentacle stops suddenly, looking as though it is undergoing the same trauma. However, the one that is wounded doesn’t retreat like the last one; you don’t why but you don’t wait for it to get away and take another swing at it. The blade lands off-target, simply recreating a similar wound in another location. You attack for a third time but notice an unusual sensation, almost like a tremor. It isn’t audible but more of something you feel emanating from the beast itself, almost like an inaudible bellow. With it, the tentacle around your torso begins to constrict and rise, lifting your torso off the ground before suddenly whipping back down, your body impacting with the ground.
You let out an audible “Oof!” as the wind is knocked out of you, gasping for breath. You try and recover, now noticing spots in your vision and a sharp pulse in the back of your head. Your actions seem delayed, your blade striking where your target had been a second ago. You have trouble paying attention, the only sensation you’re immediately aware of being the ever increasing pressure the tendril around your torso is applying. You can feel it weave across your skin as it holds you in its serpentine embrace, continuing to wind about your body, even pinning your arms to your sides before the tip moves on towards you head. Your vision has gained its clarity back, but only just in time to see the floating tendril from earlier darting along your body for your open mouth. You try and clamp your jaw shut, teeth snapping together as the muscle pushes against them. You shift your head back and forth as you think carefully how to go about attacking the tendril, its length lying against your body – you don’t want to risk stabbing yourself. The muscle keeps pushing against your entrance, lips giving way as the tip tries to force itself between your teeth – it will not be denied.
Your body is once again lifted before it comes crashing back down into the stone floor, the tentacle beneath you doing little to soften the blow. You manage to tilt your head forward this time, avoiding a concussion, but your diaphragm isn’t as lucky, spasming again as you involuntarily gasp for air. The space between your teeth is small but your shock proves to be enough as the tendril dives into your mouth. Having now claimed its prize, it resumes the actions of the one before it, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. Shame and a reluctant heat begin to well up in you again, the feelings hitting you hard after their temporary absence. Every contour and groove of its black flesh glides across your lips as its assault continues, the details all extraordinarily tangible. This, combined with what transpires under your skirt, build upon the threat against your mind, these actions causing a sense of wanting, a sense of need in your loins.
It would be so easy to give in – any lesser individual would – but you struggle against the constricting tendrils, attempting to bring your dagger to bear. Unfortunately, you can’t get a good angle with your arms as they are, pinned, with little chance of breaking your bindings. You twist your wrist in every direction it can go but find your blade to simply be out of reach. You try with your sword arm, hoping you might be able to overpower the wounded tendril, but find that, even in its weakened state, you’re unable to overpower it.
As you try and fight, your mind is continually drawn back to the tendril’s presence, the familiar taste rushing back to you as whatever essence coating the intruder seeps into your tongue. You try and depress your tongue in an effort to avoid the taste, but find it impossible to escape from the constant secretions. It dives into your mouth with even more fervor than the previous one, the motions much more haphazard this time as a few lines of spittle run down your chin and across your cheeks, laden with the tentacle’s excretions. Your eyes flutter a bit, open eyes feeling like an exhaustive burden. A moan wells up from deep within your throat, but you cut it short, reminding yourself of the situation you’re in. Even then, the tendrils under your skirt and the muscle between your lips makes a part of you want to forget.
Your arms and wrists keep pushing and twisting about as you keep struggling to free yourself, although, some may say it was just for show at this point. You continue your struggle but are caught off guard as part of your sight fades out, turning to black. You are confused for a second until you feel the eerie sensation of a tentacle wrapping across your head, its girth passing over one of your eyes as it encircles your head. Your breathing picks up not only from the pleasure you feel, but also due to the foreboding nature of this tendril wrapping across your face. It appears to be the one constricting your torso and upper arms, the feeling of its advance felt across your stomach, arms and breasts as it continues to entwine your figure. The tip parts your hair as it wraps around, then dipping back behind your head and finally coming around to coil about your neck, the tip idly brushing against your cheek. You’re confused at the beast’s fascination with your mouth and face, its attentions to them almost as strange as the skull which it held before. It was then that another emotion was added to already complex mix of fear, confusion, shame, embarrassment, anger, and lust: Horror.
You didn’t want to believe such a connection existed, but then what other explanation would there be? Your mind fought with itself for an answer, or some sort of solace, some shred of evidence that this creature, now without its skull from before, now sees yours as some sort of prize… a trophy to take after whatever ritual this is has concluded. Surely it wouldn’t kill you, only using you to satisfy whatever twisted desires it has. Still, the thought of what could happen…
A part of you couldn’t keep calm, whatever dam that held your fears in place began to crack as you frantically tried to break free; your arms and legs tensing against the flesh that held them in place, your head whipping back and forth, trying to dislodge the invader in your mouth. Muffled screams rang out and a few tears streamed down your face as you tried so desperately to break free of its grasp. The beast didn’t seem to care and seemed to even be spurred on by this sudden burst of defiance, the tentacle in your mouth picking up speed as the tendrils below spun into an even more furious whirlwind of activity. Your cheeks felt hot, both from the water welling up in your eyes and the undesired pleasure. Tears fell from your one, uncovered eye, as you gazed down with an intense fear at what this creature was doing to you. You look up and down in horror, at everything before you: the tentacle in your mouth, the muscular limb that wove across your breasts and body, and the veil that is your skirt, underneath which, dozens of small tendrils writhed in a mass of movement, brushing up against your most sensitive region and driving you to the heights of ecstasy; They twisted about, pushing against the moist material that covered your lower pair of lips, and eliciting from you sensations that threatened to send you over the edge.
Thoughts play out over your mind and you are caught up in a haze of hysteria as undesired sensations wrack your body. You are ripped back to reality however, as you feel not only the tentacle in your mouth pick up its pace, but the one around your throat tighten its grip. At first, you thought the tension a punishment of some sort for struggling too much, but its intensity didn’t seem to let up, the muscle becoming tight around not only around your throat, but your body as well. You find it harder to breathe but still manage for the moment. The tentacle in your throat also threatens to choke you as it pushes a bit more into your mouth, the appendage causing you to gag. You involuntarily moan in both panic and pleasure, the sound muffled by the lodged member. The liquid sawing of the invading flesh soon joined the chorus of sounds resounding throughout the chamber, the creature itself staying silent. A dizziness bloomed within your head and the edges of your vision sparkled as you felt every sensation intensify, including both pain and pleasure.
You could barely even think anymore; with everything happening as it was, even your fear didn’t seem to inhibit the pleasure you felt, your anxiety perhaps even adding to it. Your eyes fell closed again, this time remaining shut as you became acutely aware of every little sensation: The tendrils gripping and pulling at your calves and thighs, their assault between your legs, the way your arms are being pinned, and the texture of the tentacle against your tongue, and occasionally the back of your throat, as its musk continues to wash over you – everything in exquisite detail.
The tentacle in your mouth quickens its pace as it pistons at an ever increasing pace. It was getting even harder to breathe now, but you still manage to focus enough to stay conscious. Your arms continued to push against your bindings and your body writhed back and forth, but this was no longer in an attempt to escape, instead, a reaction to your muscles being set alight. It was subtle at first, a throbbing in your pelvis that snowballed in its intensity. Your toes curl, legs extending out straight, and your entire body tenses as you throw your head back. It feels like your whole body is concentrated at one, singular point as certain parts of you convulse, a rippling sensation shooting out from your nether-lips through the rest of your form, again and again, sending wave after wave of bliss across your body. You can barely contain yourself as you let out a cry of ecstasy, the tentacles themselves seeming to call out as well, their forms twitching and shivering.
The scream you hear however, is not one of pleasure or of fear, nor was it muffled; instead, it was one of wrathful vengeance, a shrill cry that resonated through the corridor. The sound is confusing at first, your thoughts sluggish as everything starts to feel slower than usual; your muscles relax and all the tension dissipates as it leaves your form. You let out a long, low moan that vibrates out and through the invading member and can’t seem to do anything but lay there as it continues to piston between your lips at a frantic pace. Finally, you open your eyes and seethe source of the battle-cry:
The display seems to play out in slow-motion, as a woman, clad in but a few scraps of clothing, sails through the air. Her hair is short, silver strands weaving in the air as she flies over you. Her teeth are bared, sharp tusks revealed as she lets out her cry – overall, a savage visage filled with frenzied rage. In her hands, is a metal pick, an angular piece of steel that held on high and ready to be driven down into her foe. Beatrice, the woman you had saved, now attempts to return the favor.
As she flies overhead, the tentacle begins to slow down, but increases in the force with which it saws in between your lips. Its length begins to twitch, convulsing and shuddering; given the nature of its actions thus far, you have an idea of what may happen – you just hope Beatrice can do something before this loathsome act takes place.
You continue to watch as Beatrice flies completely over you, leaping from the stairs right onto the beast itself. Before she lands, she brings down her weapon, the pick piercing the central mass of the creature, the blade sinking all the way down to the hilt. You can feel the pain ripple throughout its appendages, pleasure and pain now mixing for this beast as they had for you. Its rhythm continues however, apparently too caught up in its actions to stop now. You let out another cry, but it is too late, as you can feel a release from the tentacles:
It doesn’t rush out like you expected, instead, a viscous material seems to seep out from the surface of every tendril, the material coating your legs, arms, chest, and face. You can feel the tentacle in your mouth convulse and pump the thick substance down your throat before sliding out; you cough and sputter as it coats your insides, your body trying to expel the fluid, but ending up having to swallow a decent amount of the effusion. It’s sticky and you can feel the substance cling a bit to the walls of your throat. You expected the taste to be vile, but find it somewhat… enjoyable, the frothy substance only a much more intense version of what you’ve been experiencing – your experience may have even been somewhat enjoyable if your body wasn’t fighting to breath and expel the slime at the same time.
As you attempt to rid yourself of the substance in your throat – whether by coughing it up or ingesting it – you feel the tendrils all across your body tense up before going limp and loosening their grip on you. Finally free, you sit up and bend forward, lurching as you continue hacking and coughing, eventually looking up to finally catch sight of Beatrice again:
The whole scene was a gruesome display as you saw the Artificer on top of the beast, driving her pick into the mass of flesh again and again. She keeps ahold of one of the tentacles you had wounded earlier, riding the squirming mass, wielding the pick like a butcher’s knife as she continues to hack away at it. The giant mass of black twists and turns, trying to swipe at her with its tentacles, but failing to strike the berserking half-orc – you wonder if, perhaps, its fun with you left it lethargic?
The sickening sounds of the steel piercing the muscled blob, as well as Beatrice’s grunts, echo throughout the corridor, her furious assault showing no signs of stopping as she rends open bloody valleys across the entire surface of her victim. The tentacles simply flop from side to side by this point, the creature nearing the end of its abominable life. You remain there as Beatrice continues her frenzy, still pressing the attack long after it stops moving…
……..
You have finally stopped coughing, now having an idea of how Beatrice must have felt like after you had rescued her. You are sitting on the steps leading up and out of the catacombs, simply resting and reflecting on the events that just transpired, wiping away at what remains of the beast’s discharge. Beatrice sits a few feet away, next to the butchered remains of the tentacle beast. You watch as she recovers from her frenzied onslaught, her shoulders rising and falling as she rests. The intoxicating effects from the inhabitants of this place have subsided for the most part for the both of you, only a bit of numbness still covering certain parts of your body. You wonder how you would have fared had you not saved her. Then again, had you not been carrying her, would you have managed to flee? You don’t want to think about it, but can’t help but wonder how things may have played out differently. Still… even considering what the two of you have been through, neither of you are severely wounded and seem to have come out of this relatively fine…
You continue to sit there for now, waiting for Beatrice. Before long, she stands, brushing some gore from her person, and walks over to you. She’s quite the sight… hell, you both are: Clothes ripped, covered in fluids, and having gone through hell. She looks down at you, a look on her face you can’t quite read.
“Are you hurt?”
You shake your head before letting out a solemn “No”.
Beatrice shifts around a bit before scanning the corridor. Eventually, she speaks up again:
“Good… let us move on, we can continue to recuperate outside – I think we’ve both had enough of this place.”
With that, she offers her hand to you. You take it and she pulls you to your feet. You manage to stand, but stumble a bit as your legs wobble beneath you – you guess you’re still a bit woozy from earlier. Beatrice catches you, steadying you against her frame. Confident you can stand on your own and that it was only a fluke, you attempt to wave her off, but she isn’t having any of it; Beatrice has to almost crouch to get under your arms, eventually putting your arm over her shoulder and making sure she has a steady grip. Side-by-side, the two of you begin to head up the stairs, leaving the catacombs behind…
OP
Cevrik777
Sex Demon
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Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Hello, all!
I apologize if you came here expecting a real update, but with this chapter coming to a close I will actually be taking a bit of time off to work on a special project of sorts. Don't worry, I'll be returning by next weekend, and yes, I know, updates have been a little slow as of late, which is precisely why I'm taking a bit of time to refresh myself so my mind is in a good enough state to write even more than usual.
Take care and good luck... Chapter 5 begins soon(TM).
Hello, all!
I apologize if you came here expecting a real update, but with this chapter coming to a close I will actually be taking a bit of time off to work on a special project of sorts. Don't worry, I'll be returning by next weekend, and yes, I know, updates have been a little slow as of late, which is precisely why I'm taking a bit of time to refresh myself so my mind is in a good enough state to write even more than usual.
Take care and good luck... Chapter 5 begins soon(TM).
OP
Cevrik777
Sex Demon
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2011
- Messages
- 276
- Reputation score
- 22
- Thread Starter
- #472
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Beatrice and you exit the door to the catacombs, stepping out into the misty cemetery. You made sure to pick up the rifle that lay on at the base of the stairs, not wanting to leave it behind. The three ghouls that the two of you killed earlier still lay dead near the entrance, undisturbed. The air, while still eerily pungent, felt refreshing, the outside air much more refreshing the tunnels below. The subtle wind became quite noticeable all of a sudden, the excretions covering your body turning cold as it hits your frame. Chills run through you as your exposed body becomes covered with goose-bumps, your nipples hardening in the breeze. The two of you keep walking for a bit, eventually resting against one of the larger monuments, its tiered shape allowing the two of you to sit off the ground. You almost fall onto the stone as you sit, Beatrice not faring much better.
The two of you stay silent as you sit down, staring out into the fog. Beatrice’s appearance no longer bothered you at this point, her lack of clothes just another fact of this strange series of events. You think back to the ordeal you just underwent, somehow calm after such an event. Thoughts of how any normal individual would be broken and crying fill your mind, yet here you are simply content that you escaped with your life. You don’t know if you’re truly that strong or if you’ll break down crying in just a few minutes, your mind still a haze after such an event. For now, you simply sit and rest, trying to ignore recent events.
Hours seem to pass, but, in reality, it was no more than a few minutes before Beatrice broke the silence:
“To be honest, I expected to die out here.” She adds a small chuckle at the end.
You turn towards her, dumfounded, her comment catching you completely by surprise.
“Heh, it’s true: Elven woman? Wandering around in such a place? Claiming ignorance? It’s almost like you were insulting my intelligence. Then again, if you were who I thought you were, you would have known perfectly well to avoid trying such a thing.”
You narrow your eyes, confused and curious.
“Who you thought I was…?”
“Yes, let’s just say that there are those who are also interested in what I seek.”
You think about what she says, seeing how your story might have sounded sound a bit far-fetched.
“If you feared such a thing, then why not kill me? You could have simply gotten rid of me, but you didn’t: Why?”
She leans back against the stone, staring back into the mist and letting out a “Hmph” before continuing.
“You make it sound as though killing you would have been an easy decision. No, even if I did have my suspicions, there was no definitive proof of your involvement. Sure, your clothes, the revolver at your side, as well as your strange willingness to help me lead me to believe you weren’t telling the whole truth, but it wasn’t enough to implicate you. As someone who seeks the truth in all things, I simply couldn’t commit such an act: You were a mystery not yet solved.”
She pauses a moment, apparently thinking about how to phrase her thoughts.
“I was at a crossroads I rarely find myself at; as one who usually bases all of my actions on caution and facts, I normally would have shot you, even after having saved you. Perhaps it was seeing another living person for the first time in so many days. I’m still not quite sure why I decided against it...”
You’re unsure whether to be thankful or fearful, this woman discussing how she should have killed you, yet let you live despite her better judgment – overall, you’re just happy to still be alive.
“Pfft, I’ve never been good at this… but thank you: I know full well you didn’t have to take such a risk, and that my being here now is all due to your efforts.”
She doesn’t turn to you, her eyes simply lowering towards the ground as she speaks.
“Then, to be put in the same spot, while you underwent a similar torture… I would not be able to live not having returned the favor – especially not after having it been my fault that we came to be in such a situation and my recovery hastened by the potion you had supplied…”
You had wanted to give her a piece of your mind after the two of you had escaped, perhaps even lay her out as you let her know just how much more trouble the two of you had to go through because of her stubbornness. However, after the both of you having gone through such an experience, and having been saved by the other, you decide to simply let it go.
“Thank you again: I’ll see to it that you are rewarded for all of your deeds here, I swear it.”
“Thank you”, you reply, “Although, I feel as though I owe you some-“
“No,” she cuts you off, “we’ve saved each other’s asses, and compared to what you faced, killing that creature was far easier – If it is anyone who owes something here, it is I.”
You suppose you could see how killing that creature while it was already occupied with you could be easier than taking on all those ghouls, but in either case, you’re not about to debate it any further – you are fully aware of how stubborn she can be. You simply thank her for returning the favor and continue resting, the two of you sitting there for another hour, recomposing yourselves physically and mentally.
It felt strange to sit there with your top exposed in such a way, your bra the only layer still concealing your breasts. Fortunately, your shirt was the only thing to suffer too much damage, the lack of buttons keeping you from closing it as it hangs loosely on your form. Stranger still, was the thin film that coated your body and soaked into your clothes, the unnerving remnants of the beast’s dried excretions. The smell, while not repulsive, was a constant reminder you’d rather not carry with you. You had tried to wipe it away, but found the ropy substance to be quite tenacious. You feel your hair and find patches of it to be stiff, a very unsettling feeling. This, mixed with all the blood, saliva, and dirt you have accrued throughout the past couple of hours has almost completely ruined your clothes. You’ll have to procure more sooner or later if you are to continue your journey comfortably. Also, a bath would not go amiss…
As the two of you sit there, she reveals to you that this town was the unfortunate victim of some sort of curse. A lot of the terms she uses aren’t familiar to you, but from what you can gather, the person who cast it was consumed by lust and anger, these emotions manifesting within the ghouls that plague the area. The event itself was apparently fairly recent, the town having gone silent only a few weeks ago. Beatrice was sent to investigate the matter, but she doesn’t reveal to you any specific details between now and then – It seems that is a story for another time…
“So, that scroll from earlier… that is what you came for?”
Beatrice nods, still not making eye contact.
“Yes, among other things.”
You notice her gaze travel down from the mist, now scanning the ground, as though searching it for something.
“The catacombs were… not just for the dead, but a place of worship and even much rejoicing – feasts were even held there on occasion in remembrance of those who had passed. While serving as a place to bury those important to the town, it was primarily used to store records and other documents. Strange, I know, and part of the reason it took me so long to find what I was searching for.”
She stands up, raising her arms as she stretches. You can’t help but stare a bit, her exposed form quite admirable as you could now see it in all its glory: the sunlight that did come through the haze revealed her toned form, small shadows forming along the muscles of her limbs and torso – her orc heritage much more apparent.
“The town used to hold a festival every month as well – food and drink aplenty. They were hesitant about visitors, but those few who did come were a lucky few…”
“It sounded like quite the town before all of… this happened.” You say, gesturing with a small wave to the immediate area.
Beatrice lets her arms fall, crossing them over her chest as she gazes at one of the graves.
“Yes, so I’ve heard.”
The two of you recover for a little while longer before Beatrice recommends that the two of you get moving; she tells you that she’s headed straight to the town, her objective now done, she has no reason to go back for the time being. You have your concerns given her lack of clothing, but don’t voice them, simply asking how long of a journey it is. You find out that the walk is but a couple of hours, just enough time to reach the city before nightfall. After a brief check on your inventory, the two of you set out towards Bayton, the cemetery luckily on the outskirts of Brill, nearest your destination.
The journey is surprisingly peaceful, the artificer leading you alongside the river for a while before beginning to navigate through small, twisted paths as the two of you make your way to Bayton. She reaches into her pack, sharing with you what remains of her food. You chew the dried meat with difficulty, but manage to choke it down as you continue the journey. It seems like hours, yet the scenery barely changes, black trees, mist, and dirt all that lays before you - you hope she know where she’s going.
You aren’t sure if she believes you or not, but for now you use the same cover you did for Raphael while the two of you talk, claiming ignorance of the world and most of its people and places. The two of you are off and on for the duration of the journey, Beatrice filling you in on her guild’s role, her rank in it, Bayton, and recent history:
“Our official description describes us as some as hunters of some sort, looking for lost relics, but in reality we Reclaimers do no more than find out what secrets were left behind after the revolution, rebellion, whatever you want to call it – in some areas, those who ruled barely had time to cover up or destroy what they had.”
Beatrice turns to you every once in a while talking, but stops as she sees the confused look on your face.
“Ah, that’s right… well, to put it simply: The Commonwealth, a group of provinces ruled by primarily humans, once encompassed what we now call the Free Cities. Novo, Folkestone, Bayton, and Respeiro were all once one, major province, ruled and controlled by The Commonwealth. This was all in name, really, those in power simply using our cities as a source of wealth and resources – no more than a colony, really.”
The two of you stop to drink some water from the river before continuing on.
“Most of those alive at the time could barely remember a time when The Commonwealth didn’t control everything, but it was not to last. No, with poverty, famine, and a general sense that they didn’t care for the fate of any of the cities, the seeds of rebellion started to take root.”
She turns away from the river suddenly, now leading you into the thick of the forest, following a small, barely visible path through the foliage.
“Now, you must understand: the citizenry had no militia, no army to fight a head on fight. Even then, with human’s innate ability to use magic, we couldn’t fight in any usual fashion. Pubs, taverns, bars, even libraries, places of worship, general stores… they all became places of resistance, the revolts getting their start in humble ale-houses and temples. Before long, those who ruled were faced with a slew of attacks, sabotages, and subterfuge – those who rebelled slowly chipped away at their morale for years on end without any reprieve. At first, soldiers were brought in, countless politicians coming and going as they failed to quell the uprisings. Eventually, The Commonwealth simply pulled out and left… leaving our civilization to its own devices. I’m still bewildered by how quickly they all left, taking so much of their magic and technology with them. Still, what they did leave behind saved our society, our entire infrastructure on the verse of collapse with them now gone.”
Beatrice stops for a bit at a fork in the road, eventually deciding on the right path before continuing. You’re glad you have her as a guide, the route she is taking seemingly random at times.
“We had stumbled upon a technological gold mine as it were, and over the years we’ve slowly started to recover; trains and firearms just a few of the technological wonders we’ve been able to put together in the short twenty years we’ve had access to the remnants of their knowledge. It’s wonderful, really: Few of us really knew what it was like to simply go about our lives, but seeing orcs, goblins, those humans that resented the way their empire ruled, and the elves and dwarves who didn’t flee to the Duumvirate, all band together… now that was an something many never thought possible.”
The two of you eventually make your way off the winding path onto what looks like a much bigger road, a rough, overgrown line separating the forest from the path. Beatrice seems to relax, apparently put at ease now that the two of you are out of the forest.
“Still, the revolution began in Respeiro, the capital, where the Orith Nerit, Chestis Theriner, Marcus Darnel, and Rallus Lavoren began to…”
Beatrice then sees the expression on your face and stops for the moment.
“Oh, sorry, the journey is long and I suppose you don’t need me to ramble on about the finer points. If you have any specific questions, please ask and I’ll do my best to educate you before we reach the city – we should be there in another hour or so.”
You are tired, but you suppose she took your fatigued expression for one of boredom. You can continue your previous topic, or ask Beatrice about something else later on, but for now you focus on walking.
Choices:
Trait recovery in progress.
STATS: Jacqueline*
STATS: Beatrice
My apologies if this one feels like a bit of an exposition dump, but I thought of no better way than to simply just lay it down and get it out of the way. Other matters will be discussed if you decide to bring them up, but for now, everything will play out when its relevant. I'll be honest, it felt like a bit of a chore to write this section, but once we get into the city thing's will become quite interesting.
To be honest... I am quite amazed we've made it this far. Back during the inception of this story I thought the it would fizzle out. To have had made it past the catacombs is just... astounding. Thank you, all of you, again for reading and voting: I am proud to say that I still have so much more in store for you guys.
Also... Dialogue is hard...
Now, let's hope I can keep writing with Dark Souls 2 coming out tonight...
To be honest... I am quite amazed we've made it this far. Back during the inception of this story I thought the it would fizzle out. To have had made it past the catacombs is just... astounding. Thank you, all of you, again for reading and voting: I am proud to say that I still have so much more in store for you guys.
Also... Dialogue is hard...
Now, let's hope I can keep writing with Dark Souls 2 coming out tonight...
Beatrice and you exit the door to the catacombs, stepping out into the misty cemetery. You made sure to pick up the rifle that lay on at the base of the stairs, not wanting to leave it behind. The three ghouls that the two of you killed earlier still lay dead near the entrance, undisturbed. The air, while still eerily pungent, felt refreshing, the outside air much more refreshing the tunnels below. The subtle wind became quite noticeable all of a sudden, the excretions covering your body turning cold as it hits your frame. Chills run through you as your exposed body becomes covered with goose-bumps, your nipples hardening in the breeze. The two of you keep walking for a bit, eventually resting against one of the larger monuments, its tiered shape allowing the two of you to sit off the ground. You almost fall onto the stone as you sit, Beatrice not faring much better.
The two of you stay silent as you sit down, staring out into the fog. Beatrice’s appearance no longer bothered you at this point, her lack of clothes just another fact of this strange series of events. You think back to the ordeal you just underwent, somehow calm after such an event. Thoughts of how any normal individual would be broken and crying fill your mind, yet here you are simply content that you escaped with your life. You don’t know if you’re truly that strong or if you’ll break down crying in just a few minutes, your mind still a haze after such an event. For now, you simply sit and rest, trying to ignore recent events.
Hours seem to pass, but, in reality, it was no more than a few minutes before Beatrice broke the silence:
“To be honest, I expected to die out here.” She adds a small chuckle at the end.
You turn towards her, dumfounded, her comment catching you completely by surprise.
“Heh, it’s true: Elven woman? Wandering around in such a place? Claiming ignorance? It’s almost like you were insulting my intelligence. Then again, if you were who I thought you were, you would have known perfectly well to avoid trying such a thing.”
You narrow your eyes, confused and curious.
“Who you thought I was…?”
“Yes, let’s just say that there are those who are also interested in what I seek.”
You think about what she says, seeing how your story might have sounded sound a bit far-fetched.
“If you feared such a thing, then why not kill me? You could have simply gotten rid of me, but you didn’t: Why?”
She leans back against the stone, staring back into the mist and letting out a “Hmph” before continuing.
“You make it sound as though killing you would have been an easy decision. No, even if I did have my suspicions, there was no definitive proof of your involvement. Sure, your clothes, the revolver at your side, as well as your strange willingness to help me lead me to believe you weren’t telling the whole truth, but it wasn’t enough to implicate you. As someone who seeks the truth in all things, I simply couldn’t commit such an act: You were a mystery not yet solved.”
She pauses a moment, apparently thinking about how to phrase her thoughts.
“I was at a crossroads I rarely find myself at; as one who usually bases all of my actions on caution and facts, I normally would have shot you, even after having saved you. Perhaps it was seeing another living person for the first time in so many days. I’m still not quite sure why I decided against it...”
You’re unsure whether to be thankful or fearful, this woman discussing how she should have killed you, yet let you live despite her better judgment – overall, you’re just happy to still be alive.
“Pfft, I’ve never been good at this… but thank you: I know full well you didn’t have to take such a risk, and that my being here now is all due to your efforts.”
She doesn’t turn to you, her eyes simply lowering towards the ground as she speaks.
“Then, to be put in the same spot, while you underwent a similar torture… I would not be able to live not having returned the favor – especially not after having it been my fault that we came to be in such a situation and my recovery hastened by the potion you had supplied…”
You had wanted to give her a piece of your mind after the two of you had escaped, perhaps even lay her out as you let her know just how much more trouble the two of you had to go through because of her stubbornness. However, after the both of you having gone through such an experience, and having been saved by the other, you decide to simply let it go.
“Thank you again: I’ll see to it that you are rewarded for all of your deeds here, I swear it.”
“Thank you”, you reply, “Although, I feel as though I owe you some-“
“No,” she cuts you off, “we’ve saved each other’s asses, and compared to what you faced, killing that creature was far easier – If it is anyone who owes something here, it is I.”
You suppose you could see how killing that creature while it was already occupied with you could be easier than taking on all those ghouls, but in either case, you’re not about to debate it any further – you are fully aware of how stubborn she can be. You simply thank her for returning the favor and continue resting, the two of you sitting there for another hour, recomposing yourselves physically and mentally.
It felt strange to sit there with your top exposed in such a way, your bra the only layer still concealing your breasts. Fortunately, your shirt was the only thing to suffer too much damage, the lack of buttons keeping you from closing it as it hangs loosely on your form. Stranger still, was the thin film that coated your body and soaked into your clothes, the unnerving remnants of the beast’s dried excretions. The smell, while not repulsive, was a constant reminder you’d rather not carry with you. You had tried to wipe it away, but found the ropy substance to be quite tenacious. You feel your hair and find patches of it to be stiff, a very unsettling feeling. This, mixed with all the blood, saliva, and dirt you have accrued throughout the past couple of hours has almost completely ruined your clothes. You’ll have to procure more sooner or later if you are to continue your journey comfortably. Also, a bath would not go amiss…
As the two of you sit there, she reveals to you that this town was the unfortunate victim of some sort of curse. A lot of the terms she uses aren’t familiar to you, but from what you can gather, the person who cast it was consumed by lust and anger, these emotions manifesting within the ghouls that plague the area. The event itself was apparently fairly recent, the town having gone silent only a few weeks ago. Beatrice was sent to investigate the matter, but she doesn’t reveal to you any specific details between now and then – It seems that is a story for another time…
“So, that scroll from earlier… that is what you came for?”
Beatrice nods, still not making eye contact.
“Yes, among other things.”
You notice her gaze travel down from the mist, now scanning the ground, as though searching it for something.
“The catacombs were… not just for the dead, but a place of worship and even much rejoicing – feasts were even held there on occasion in remembrance of those who had passed. While serving as a place to bury those important to the town, it was primarily used to store records and other documents. Strange, I know, and part of the reason it took me so long to find what I was searching for.”
She stands up, raising her arms as she stretches. You can’t help but stare a bit, her exposed form quite admirable as you could now see it in all its glory: the sunlight that did come through the haze revealed her toned form, small shadows forming along the muscles of her limbs and torso – her orc heritage much more apparent.
“The town used to hold a festival every month as well – food and drink aplenty. They were hesitant about visitors, but those few who did come were a lucky few…”
“It sounded like quite the town before all of… this happened.” You say, gesturing with a small wave to the immediate area.
Beatrice lets her arms fall, crossing them over her chest as she gazes at one of the graves.
“Yes, so I’ve heard.”
The two of you recover for a little while longer before Beatrice recommends that the two of you get moving; she tells you that she’s headed straight to the town, her objective now done, she has no reason to go back for the time being. You have your concerns given her lack of clothing, but don’t voice them, simply asking how long of a journey it is. You find out that the walk is but a couple of hours, just enough time to reach the city before nightfall. After a brief check on your inventory, the two of you set out towards Bayton, the cemetery luckily on the outskirts of Brill, nearest your destination.
The journey is surprisingly peaceful, the artificer leading you alongside the river for a while before beginning to navigate through small, twisted paths as the two of you make your way to Bayton. She reaches into her pack, sharing with you what remains of her food. You chew the dried meat with difficulty, but manage to choke it down as you continue the journey. It seems like hours, yet the scenery barely changes, black trees, mist, and dirt all that lays before you - you hope she know where she’s going.
You aren’t sure if she believes you or not, but for now you use the same cover you did for Raphael while the two of you talk, claiming ignorance of the world and most of its people and places. The two of you are off and on for the duration of the journey, Beatrice filling you in on her guild’s role, her rank in it, Bayton, and recent history:
“Our official description describes us as some as hunters of some sort, looking for lost relics, but in reality we Reclaimers do no more than find out what secrets were left behind after the revolution, rebellion, whatever you want to call it – in some areas, those who ruled barely had time to cover up or destroy what they had.”
Beatrice turns to you every once in a while talking, but stops as she sees the confused look on your face.
“Ah, that’s right… well, to put it simply: The Commonwealth, a group of provinces ruled by primarily humans, once encompassed what we now call the Free Cities. Novo, Folkestone, Bayton, and Respeiro were all once one, major province, ruled and controlled by The Commonwealth. This was all in name, really, those in power simply using our cities as a source of wealth and resources – no more than a colony, really.”
The two of you stop to drink some water from the river before continuing on.
“Most of those alive at the time could barely remember a time when The Commonwealth didn’t control everything, but it was not to last. No, with poverty, famine, and a general sense that they didn’t care for the fate of any of the cities, the seeds of rebellion started to take root.”
She turns away from the river suddenly, now leading you into the thick of the forest, following a small, barely visible path through the foliage.
“Now, you must understand: the citizenry had no militia, no army to fight a head on fight. Even then, with human’s innate ability to use magic, we couldn’t fight in any usual fashion. Pubs, taverns, bars, even libraries, places of worship, general stores… they all became places of resistance, the revolts getting their start in humble ale-houses and temples. Before long, those who ruled were faced with a slew of attacks, sabotages, and subterfuge – those who rebelled slowly chipped away at their morale for years on end without any reprieve. At first, soldiers were brought in, countless politicians coming and going as they failed to quell the uprisings. Eventually, The Commonwealth simply pulled out and left… leaving our civilization to its own devices. I’m still bewildered by how quickly they all left, taking so much of their magic and technology with them. Still, what they did leave behind saved our society, our entire infrastructure on the verse of collapse with them now gone.”
Beatrice stops for a bit at a fork in the road, eventually deciding on the right path before continuing. You’re glad you have her as a guide, the route she is taking seemingly random at times.
“We had stumbled upon a technological gold mine as it were, and over the years we’ve slowly started to recover; trains and firearms just a few of the technological wonders we’ve been able to put together in the short twenty years we’ve had access to the remnants of their knowledge. It’s wonderful, really: Few of us really knew what it was like to simply go about our lives, but seeing orcs, goblins, those humans that resented the way their empire ruled, and the elves and dwarves who didn’t flee to the Duumvirate, all band together… now that was an something many never thought possible.”
The two of you eventually make your way off the winding path onto what looks like a much bigger road, a rough, overgrown line separating the forest from the path. Beatrice seems to relax, apparently put at ease now that the two of you are out of the forest.
“Still, the revolution began in Respeiro, the capital, where the Orith Nerit, Chestis Theriner, Marcus Darnel, and Rallus Lavoren began to…”
Beatrice then sees the expression on your face and stops for the moment.
“Oh, sorry, the journey is long and I suppose you don’t need me to ramble on about the finer points. If you have any specific questions, please ask and I’ll do my best to educate you before we reach the city – we should be there in another hour or so.”
You are tired, but you suppose she took your fatigued expression for one of boredom. You can continue your previous topic, or ask Beatrice about something else later on, but for now you focus on walking.
Choices:
Decide on a course of action.
Primary Vote: Do you have any questions or desire for information which you think Beatrice could provide?
Z) Minor Action. Available[ U]
---
Minor Actions Explanation:
An explanation of crystals can be found on the first post.
Primary Vote: Do you have any questions or desire for information which you think Beatrice could provide?
Z) Minor Action. Available[ U]
---
Minor Actions Explanation:
Minor Actions are small actions you may do in addition to your Primary Vote (A, B, C, etc.). They will usually just provide you with additional information or perhaps, in rare circumstances, an item. If it would cause an encounter or runs the risk of causing general havoc then it's best to put it as an additional detail under primary vote.
Examples are asking someone a simple question, inspecting an object or feature in the environment, checking on or using an item in your bag, or changing some feature on your person. (i.e. Putting your hair into ponytail - See: Sections explained > Appearance)
They may help you, but please, try not to abuse the system. Trying to examine a couple objects in detail may be fine, but picking every item off the shelf in a store can get a bit... tedious.
And as always: I retain the right to reject them however much it may pain me to do so...
Examples are asking someone a simple question, inspecting an object or feature in the environment, checking on or using an item in your bag, or changing some feature on your person. (i.e. Putting your hair into ponytail - See: Sections explained > Appearance)
They may help you, but please, try not to abuse the system. Trying to examine a couple objects in detail may be fine, but picking every item off the shelf in a store can get a bit... tedious.
And as always: I retain the right to reject them however much it may pain me to do so...
Trait recovery in progress.
STATS: Jacqueline*
Current Inventory:
Gold: 8
-Ticket from Bayton to Respeiro. 1st Class.
-Red Discrete Crystal x3
-White Discrete Crystal x2
-Note from “J”
-Lock-pick.
-Metallic Brooch (Type:?)
-Leather Dress-Boots.
-Leather dress Gloves. Brown. Covered in Blood
-Compass.
-Goblin Potion. Unknown Effect.
-Dark Green Potion. Highly negative effect.
-Teal Potion. "Isn't Harmful".
-Black Potion. Unknown effect
-Small container of water. Professionally Made.
-One burning rod. Can be lit on fire to produce light.
-Wax fused cloth. Solid lump of rock-hard wax. Has medallion inside it.
Weapons:
-Revolver. Single Action. Holds six Rounds. Holstered.
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder) Rotation: (Sp){E}> E,Sp,Sp,Sp
-Small skinning knife. 2 inch blade. In belt
-Short-sword. Has scabbard fastened to left hip. Sheathed.
-Rifle. Bolt Action. Holds one round. Slung across shoulder.
-Rounds: x0
-Dagger. 9 inch Blade. Scabbard fastened in front of Holster. Sheathed
Apparel:
-Belt & Holster. Holster secured on right hip. Knife between buckle folds.
-Small Belt-Pouch 1: Contains - Shards of Metal. Can be used as caltrops= Recoverable.
-Small Belt-Pouch 2: Contains - Healing Potion, Goblin Potion, Dark Green Potion, Teal Potion, Black Potion.
-Skirt. Ends just above the knees. Black. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions
-Shirt. Buttons ripped off. Large tear above left breast, slightly revealing bra beneath. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
-Vest. Dark Leather. Torn open. Ripped.
-Leather Vambraces. Covers forearms.
-Sturdy Leather Gloves.
-Sturdy Boots. Brown Leather. Right covered in Ghoul’s blood.
-Bra. Black. Silk. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
-Underwear. Black. Silk. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
-Stockings. Transparent. Black. Little more than rags. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
Abilities/Effects:
- Recovering Amnesiac: You have lost your memory but are becoming more knowledgeable about the world.
- Revolver Master : Few can best your aim with a revolver.
- Preemptive Tactics: When ambushing an enemy, advantageous details about the environment and the target(s) in question become apparent and you are granted a bonus on the first strike.
- Never Outnumbered: You are experienced in fighting against greater numbers and can think clearly while doing so.
- ……… You’re not sure what it was… but something happened recently that seemed familiar
- Ghoul Anatomy I: "The head is key: destroying it is the only effective way to stop them." -Beatrice
Physical Appearance:
-Face slightly smudged with the tentacle beasts' excretions.
-Entire body covered with a thin film leftover from your encounter with the tentacle beast.
-Red/Auburn Hair: Little longer than “Shoulder Length”. Messy, dirtied. Bedraggled look. Coated with ghoul’s blood and is stiff from the dried remains of the tentacle beast’s excretions
-~5’ 7” 140lbs/63Kg. 34C
-Bullet wound scar on left abdomen.
-Right side of torso bloodied and bruised.
-Right leg covered with dried ghoul blood.
Crystal explanations can be found in the first post.
Explanation of Sections:
Gold: 8
-Ticket from Bayton to Respeiro. 1st Class.
-Red Discrete Crystal x3
-White Discrete Crystal x2
-Note from “J”
-Lock-pick.
-Metallic Brooch (Type:?)
-Leather Dress-Boots.
-Leather dress Gloves. Brown. Covered in Blood
-Compass.
-Goblin Potion. Unknown Effect.
-Dark Green Potion. Highly negative effect.
-Teal Potion. "Isn't Harmful".
-Black Potion. Unknown effect
-Small container of water. Professionally Made.
-One burning rod. Can be lit on fire to produce light.
-Wax fused cloth. Solid lump of rock-hard wax. Has medallion inside it.
Weapons:
-Revolver. Single Action. Holds six Rounds. Holstered.
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder) Rotation: (Sp){E}> E,Sp,Sp,Sp
-Small skinning knife. 2 inch blade. In belt
-Short-sword. Has scabbard fastened to left hip. Sheathed.
-Rifle. Bolt Action. Holds one round. Slung across shoulder.
-Rounds: x0
-Dagger. 9 inch Blade. Scabbard fastened in front of Holster. Sheathed
Apparel:
-Belt & Holster. Holster secured on right hip. Knife between buckle folds.
-Small Belt-Pouch 1: Contains - Shards of Metal. Can be used as caltrops= Recoverable.
-Small Belt-Pouch 2: Contains - Healing Potion, Goblin Potion, Dark Green Potion, Teal Potion, Black Potion.
-Skirt. Ends just above the knees. Black. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions
-Shirt. Buttons ripped off. Large tear above left breast, slightly revealing bra beneath. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
-Vest. Dark Leather. Torn open. Ripped.
-Leather Vambraces. Covers forearms.
-Sturdy Leather Gloves.
-Sturdy Boots. Brown Leather. Right covered in Ghoul’s blood.
-Bra. Black. Silk. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
-Underwear. Black. Silk. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
-Stockings. Transparent. Black. Little more than rags. Soaked with tentacle beast’s excretions.
Abilities/Effects:
- Recovering Amnesiac: You have lost your memory but are becoming more knowledgeable about the world.
- Revolver Master : Few can best your aim with a revolver.
- Preemptive Tactics: When ambushing an enemy, advantageous details about the environment and the target(s) in question become apparent and you are granted a bonus on the first strike.
- Never Outnumbered: You are experienced in fighting against greater numbers and can think clearly while doing so.
- ……… You’re not sure what it was… but something happened recently that seemed familiar
- Ghoul Anatomy I: "The head is key: destroying it is the only effective way to stop them." -Beatrice
Physical Appearance:
-Face slightly smudged with the tentacle beasts' excretions.
-Entire body covered with a thin film leftover from your encounter with the tentacle beast.
-Red/Auburn Hair: Little longer than “Shoulder Length”. Messy, dirtied. Bedraggled look. Coated with ghoul’s blood and is stiff from the dried remains of the tentacle beast’s excretions
-~5’ 7” 140lbs/63Kg. 34C
-Bullet wound scar on left abdomen.
-Right side of torso bloodied and bruised.
-Right leg covered with dried ghoul blood.
Crystal explanations can be found in the first post.
Explanation of Sections:
A "*" next to the "STATS" title will denote that there has been a modification since the last post.
A blue + will denote that an item has been gained.
A red - will denote that an item has been lost or destroyed.
Current Inventory: What you have with you.
Weapons: Objects that may be used to inflict harm on opponents. Note, that these are your primary means of damaging an enemy in combat but you may use other items you possess or objects in the environment in creative ways. This includes your bare hands and feet.
To display the status of the cylinder in the revolver, I have added a simple set of letters to let you guys know exactly what the state of it is between posts. It currently goes:
Cylinder: (Chamber aligned with barrel){Next shot once hammer is cocked}>Remaining chambers>
Sp = Spent casing. L = Loaded/Live round. E = Empty.
So, “ Rotation: (Sp){L} >L,L,E,E ” Means that you have a casing now lined up with the barrel, the next shot will be live once you pull the hammer, and then you have two more rounds before you’re empty.
Apparel: Clothes that are currently being worn. Any damage will be detailed as well. Clothing not being worn will be held in your inventory. A “???” symbol denotes the knowledge of it being worn, but no specific details are known.
Abilities/Effects: Special abilities possessed by the character. Some may be directly linked with items/pieces of clothing. Also lists passive effects present upon the character, including passive skills and negative conditions.
Physical Appearance: A basic overview of the physical features of your character.
Some aspects may be altered via a minor action if necessary requirements are met (Tying hair up into a ponytail), or against the character’s will depending on the nature of the alteration.
A blue + will denote that an item has been gained.
A red - will denote that an item has been lost or destroyed.
Current Inventory: What you have with you.
Weapons: Objects that may be used to inflict harm on opponents. Note, that these are your primary means of damaging an enemy in combat but you may use other items you possess or objects in the environment in creative ways. This includes your bare hands and feet.
To display the status of the cylinder in the revolver, I have added a simple set of letters to let you guys know exactly what the state of it is between posts. It currently goes:
Cylinder: (Chamber aligned with barrel){Next shot once hammer is cocked}>Remaining chambers>
Sp = Spent casing. L = Loaded/Live round. E = Empty.
So, “ Rotation: (Sp){L} >L,L,E,E ” Means that you have a casing now lined up with the barrel, the next shot will be live once you pull the hammer, and then you have two more rounds before you’re empty.
Apparel: Clothes that are currently being worn. Any damage will be detailed as well. Clothing not being worn will be held in your inventory. A “???” symbol denotes the knowledge of it being worn, but no specific details are known.
Abilities/Effects: Special abilities possessed by the character. Some may be directly linked with items/pieces of clothing. Also lists passive effects present upon the character, including passive skills and negative conditions.
Physical Appearance: A basic overview of the physical features of your character.
Some aspects may be altered via a minor action if necessary requirements are met (Tying hair up into a ponytail), or against the character’s will depending on the nature of the alteration.
STATS: Beatrice
Current Inventory:
Gold: (?)
-Canteen: Holds water.
-Blanket.
-Compass
-Piece of Chalk
-Quill
-Parchment. 4 sheets.
-Corked Inkwell
-Flint & Tinder.
-Scroll
-Empty Healing Potion.
-Crowbar. Three ft. long. Steel. Curved hook on one end and a slightly angled tip on the other. Slightly Bent.
Weapons:
-Long-barreled Revolver. Single Action. Swing-out Cylinder. Holds five Rounds. In bag
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder)
-Shotgun. Break action. Two barrels. Holds 2 shells. Slung across left shoulder
-Shells: x0 (0 loaded)
-Pick. Steel. Small. Shaft is 1 foot long. In right hand
Apparel:
-Thigh Holster: Holds Long-barreled revolver.
-Blue button up shirt. Buttoned. Long sleeved. Cloth. Torn open around breasts.
-Belt 1. Supports pouch 1. Crowbar hanging from hip.
-Belt 2. Supports pouch 2. Holds: Small pick on left hip.
-Pouch 1. Contains: Canteen.
-Left thigh Belt. Holds: Three burning rods.
-Left leather spaulder.
-Leather vambraces.
-Cloth pants. down to ankle. Hole ripped open revealing groin.
-Leather chaps. Perfect for riding and adds protection around your legs. Drenched with semen.
-Sturdy Boots.
-Backpack.
Abilities/Effects:
- Gangraped: Your entire body is covered with filth and secretions from your assailants, but you are recovering.
- Guilty pleasure: …….
- Artificer: A member of the Artificer's Guild, a guild known for studying magic and lost technology.
- Reclaimer: Reclaimer rank: You are a hunter of the eldritch and scour lost ruins and abandoned pieces of civilization for history and technology of old.
- Revolver Training I: "Better... but there's always perfection." -Smith Mordel
- Shotgun Training II: "You're almost as good as me now, 'Trice!" -Flint
- Half-Orc: An orc half breed. Born from the coupling of an orc and a human. You, luckily, got more from your mother's side.
- Meticulous: You are one for planning and preparation, and aren't good at improvising when things don't go as planned.
- Firearm Favored: Confident with a gun in your hand, but you find yourself quite distressed when fighting without one.
- Bayton Raised: Born and raised in the pirate city you learn certain skills and rules... or guidelines, rather.
- Curious of Alchemy: You can't truly make potions, but you can most likely discern potion from poison.
- Bookworm: You not only read, you take pleasure in acquiring any new information.
- Gunsmith/Tinkerer II: Knowledge on how to fix and repair many different types of firearms and mechanical devices.
Physical Appearance:
-Snow-white hair: Slicked back. Cut just above the neck. Stiff from ghoul’s semen.
-Sharp face, with narrow, green eyes.
- ~6' 2" 193lbs/87Kg 44DD
-Bullet wound scar on right forearm
-Large blade scar on right abdomen.
-Large blade scar on left thigh.
-Small tusks protruding from lower lips, an inch from the gum-line.
-Entire body covered in ghoul’s semen and spit.
Gold: (?)
-Canteen: Holds water.
-Blanket.
-Compass
-Piece of Chalk
-Quill
-Parchment. 4 sheets.
-Corked Inkwell
-Flint & Tinder.
-Scroll
-Empty Healing Potion.
-Crowbar. Three ft. long. Steel. Curved hook on one end and a slightly angled tip on the other. Slightly Bent.
Weapons:
-Long-barreled Revolver. Single Action. Swing-out Cylinder. Holds five Rounds. In bag
-Rounds: x0 (0 in Cylinder)
-Shotgun. Break action. Two barrels. Holds 2 shells. Slung across left shoulder
-Shells: x0 (0 loaded)
-Pick. Steel. Small. Shaft is 1 foot long. In right hand
Apparel:
-Thigh Holster: Holds Long-barreled revolver.
-Blue button up shirt. Buttoned. Long sleeved. Cloth. Torn open around breasts.
-Belt 1. Supports pouch 1. Crowbar hanging from hip.
-Belt 2. Supports pouch 2. Holds: Small pick on left hip.
-Pouch 1. Contains: Canteen.
-Left thigh Belt. Holds: Three burning rods.
-Left leather spaulder.
-Leather vambraces.
-Cloth pants. down to ankle. Hole ripped open revealing groin.
-Leather chaps. Perfect for riding and adds protection around your legs. Drenched with semen.
-Sturdy Boots.
-Backpack.
Abilities/Effects:
- Gangraped: Your entire body is covered with filth and secretions from your assailants, but you are recovering.
- Guilty pleasure: …….
- Artificer: A member of the Artificer's Guild, a guild known for studying magic and lost technology.
- Reclaimer: Reclaimer rank: You are a hunter of the eldritch and scour lost ruins and abandoned pieces of civilization for history and technology of old.
- Revolver Training I: "Better... but there's always perfection." -Smith Mordel
- Shotgun Training II: "You're almost as good as me now, 'Trice!" -Flint
- Half-Orc: An orc half breed. Born from the coupling of an orc and a human. You, luckily, got more from your mother's side.
- Meticulous: You are one for planning and preparation, and aren't good at improvising when things don't go as planned.
- Firearm Favored: Confident with a gun in your hand, but you find yourself quite distressed when fighting without one.
- Bayton Raised: Born and raised in the pirate city you learn certain skills and rules... or guidelines, rather.
- Curious of Alchemy: You can't truly make potions, but you can most likely discern potion from poison.
- Bookworm: You not only read, you take pleasure in acquiring any new information.
- Gunsmith/Tinkerer II: Knowledge on how to fix and repair many different types of firearms and mechanical devices.
Physical Appearance:
-Snow-white hair: Slicked back. Cut just above the neck. Stiff from ghoul’s semen.
-Sharp face, with narrow, green eyes.
- ~6' 2" 193lbs/87Kg 44DD
-Bullet wound scar on right forearm
-Large blade scar on right abdomen.
-Large blade scar on left thigh.
-Small tusks protruding from lower lips, an inch from the gum-line.
-Entire body covered in ghoul’s semen and spit.
Last edited:
Gear47demon
Tentacle God
- Joined
- May 15, 2013
- Messages
- 793
- Reputation score
- 35
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
All of the above, but also give her the Goblin Potion for examination. Also, I think it might not be a bad idea to come clean about the amnesia to her... or what led to Jacqueline ending up in Brill in the first place. A little trust can go a long way... hopefully.
All of the above, but also give her the Goblin Potion for examination. Also, I think it might not be a bad idea to come clean about the amnesia to her... or what led to Jacqueline ending up in Brill in the first place. A little trust can go a long way... hopefully.
OP
Cevrik777
Sex Demon
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2011
- Messages
- 276
- Reputation score
- 22
- Thread Starter
- #476
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Results:
The two of you continue on your journey to the city unhindered, noises deeper within the tree-line reminding you of where you are but never presenting themselves as threats. For a while, the two of you continue on without exchanging any words, simply focused on walking, but you find yourself more and more curious about your destination with each passing second. Beatrice had mentioned pirates before, you’re sure, but what exactly was her guild doing in such a place like that? Beatrice herself was also a bit of a mystery herself: sure, you know she’s an “Artificer” and a half-orc, but what else is there to her? You remember back to when you questioned her before, Beatrice having become quite defensive when you asked last time – perhaps now, with all that the two of you have just been through, she’ll be a little more open. Even so, you feel as though you owe her a better explanation of your story, regardless of whether or not she feels as though she owes you: You decide it best to tell her about your Amnesia, if not to build a bit of trust between the two of you, to find out if she knows any way of recovering your memory.
“Beatrice” you begin, breaking the silence, “I know you feel as though I don’t owe you anything, but please, I have some questions that need to be answered and I feel as though after you hear what I’m about to tell you… everything will be a bit clearer.”
You can see her look down a bit, pondering your words. She holds her gaze to the ground for a bit but eventually nods.
“Go ahead, then.”
You have trouble at first, wondering which elements of your story you should include or leave out, but ultimately opting to tell a very basic version of the tale: you mention how you were on the train when you first came to and how to encountered Raphael and Alex. You refrain from mentioning the letter however, thinking that it might be a little too sensitive – you can always bring it up later if you so choose.
You cover Novo, how you managed to acquire the crystals, your training with Tinder, and your exchange with Scarper - leaving out his attempt to have you – and then you experience on the train to Bayton. At the mention of this, Beatrice seems quite surprised, her eyebrows rising slightly as you give a detailed description of your fight between the outlaws and your eventual plunge into the river and over the waterfall. You pause for a moment when you reach the end, wondering whether or not to mention your wound and how it had closed up on its own, but decide to divulge that as well, deciding that there is little point in hiding such a detail.
You tell her of the two goblins and the flask they tried to make you drink and how they had died by your hand. Finally, you retrieve the potion in question and hand it to Beatrice before finishing your tale, describing your trek down the river, across the bridge, and eventually into the town itself to where you had met her.
During your story, Beatrice remains silent, simply listening and taking it all in as you fill her in. Her eyes show a bit of surprise, but you don’t sense any doubt behind them. She examines the bottle for a bit before removing the stopper and sniffing its contents before handing it back to you. Afterwards, you can see her processing the story which you’ve told, taking in the events before she replies.
“So… you aren’t simply some Fae that has set out into the world.” She pauses for a bit before continuing. “… That actually makes your story more believable in my eyes.”
“It does?” you reply, cocking your head to the side as you turn to her.
“Yes, I actually find it quite difficult to believe that someone who had no experience of the world at all, to suddenly leave and be as capable as you. Sure, you might have garnered enough prowess to take out as many ghouls as you did, but not before hearing something about this valley. If what you say is true, you still have that experience – the mind may not remember, but the muscles do, your proficiency with that revolver and how you defended yourself on the train, all natural to you now. Who knows what else will come back to you as you continue on your way.”
You think about her words and can see the wisdom behind them – Perhaps she may be able to help you far more than you had first thought.
“Do you know how it may have happened? I mean, what may have caused it?”
At this Beatrice furrows her brow, apparently recalling what knowledge she may have on the subject.
“Well, I assume there would be three primary causes, the only natural way being a traumatic event or a shock to the individual so intense that they simply cannot cope, the mind purging itself. Besides that… it would have to be alchemically or magically induced, but such a task would require great understanding of either art – to have enough magical prowess to simply influence someone’s mind is hard enough, but to wipe it completely...?”
She trails off as you think about what she said: the cause was either something traumatic, or done intentionally. The implications of the latter are unnerving, not only knowing that there could be someone out there who did this to you, but that you wouldn’t even recognize them.
As you’re considering this, Beatrice chimes in again rather abruptly:
“Oh! I had almost forgotten: That potion you had taken from the goblins – it was good thing you didn’t drink it.”
“Why? How could you tell?”
Beatrice chuckles a bit before answering.
“I recognize the scent – it is an herb, Leafcap, which induces a sense of euphoria, more specifically, it is an aphrodisiac, making the imbiber go into a desperate heat. If you go near the brothel in town you’ll definitely get a whiff of it as they burn a trace amount of it in the incense they use. its effects can’t be induced through the air though, so don’t worry.”
You’re taken aback by this piece of knowledge, now aware of what could have happened should you have accepted their offering.
“I… I had a bit of regret before, simply shooting them, but now that I know what their intent was, I find trouble feeling guilty. To think, if I had taken it…”
“You probably would have been gotten your first taste of goblin cock.” Beatrice interjected. “… Well, that you could remember.” Beatrice then turns to you with a giant grin as she sees the shocked look on your face. “What? Who knows how many times you’ve-“
“I- I get it!” you cut her off.
Beatrice throws her head back and laughs aloud, a low boisterous sound that cuts through forest. You aren’t as amused, the fact that you are unaware of what acts you have taken part in… a bit disturbing. Nevertheless, you think back to the encounter, wondering just how far it could have gone. A lump forms in your stomach as you think about it and you quickly find yourself trying to think of something else.
“But seriously, if you had taken it, you most likely would have been fucked on that riverbank and then, if you could no longer resist, hauled off to service the rest of whatever tribe they were a part of. There are a few women, each year, who go missing in these parts, but some say it’s better than the men in Bayton.”
She chuckles as she finishes, but you’re just thankful she’s done talking about it. You couldn’t imagine such a thing happening, your entire journey taking such a dramatic turn would have been… no, you don’t even entertain the thought. You put it from your mind and think about what next to discuss with Beatrice, all the while, the red crystals in your bag emitting a faint glow.
“So, I was wondering if you could fill me in on some other things, such as Bayton, your guild, and even yourself to an extent? I don’t mean to pry, but I simply wish to know the world a little better – anything you can offer me could prove useful.”
Beatrice stops walking, her head titled back so she gazed up into the mist. You don’t know if you hit a nerve or if she’s simply thinking as how best to answer you. You stop alongside her, finding it hard to look directly at her somewhat-crestfallen expression. You are surprised though as a grin does slowly appear on the artificer’s face as she turns back to you.
“Alright, forgetful one, I’ll tell you, but don’t blame me if it becomes a bit boring: you did ask.”
For the next hour or so Beatrice gives you a basic run down of her guild and the city of Bayton. She starts by explaining how the guild was but a small group when it was founded nearly a century ago, interested in simply preserving knowledge. Built out of stone to protect it from fires, it was designed to stand for centuries, a veritable bunker, built to withstand even full-scale warfare within the city walls. During its time under The Commonwealth, the guild’s ability to acquire knowledge was severely hindered, those in power seeing to it that their secrets of magic and other technology weren’t revealed. It was for this reason that the guild did what it could to help the revolution, while not openly supporting it. After The Commonwealth had lost control of the city, the guilds knowledge and connections went unchecked, allowing their power and influence within the city to grow rapidly. In time, its control of the city was equal to those it was originally promised to: the brigands and outlaws that had aided the revolution. That, she continued to explain, was the other side of the equation.
During the revolution, outlaws, thieves, and pirates from across the sea all agreed to help overthrow The Commonwealth in exchange for the city. The population before was almost entirely loyal to the commonwealth, and as such, was one of the only places to actually see open fighting. It was a massacre, those that lived there were killed or raped, and the pirates taking over the city as a new haven for trade and debauchery both. Not everyone in the city is a cutthroat however, some people lead normal lives, simply making a living where they can. Merchants aplenty are set up near the wharf, and many more trade their goods to cities across the sea. Although, even if you trade with them, doesn’t mean you’re off-limits to those who raid out the same city – only Respeiro has that much power and influence. “Forced Trade” they call it, a system that’s not exactly common knowledge, but keeps the wheels of Bayton turning.
As for the relation between the guild and those who rule Bayton itself, the guild uses a good portion of its technology for agricultural purposes, Bayton being one of the biggest wine exporters this side of the Tiara. Nowadays, the guild is very secretive with what it acquires, many individuals looking to steal from them in order to gain whatever knowledge is hidden away, be it in the form of magic, research, or even weaponry. Some say the pirates and the guild are in a tense peace, but in reality, it’s a healthy relationship, each one providing the other with something hey desire: The pirates provide a secure settlement with proper protection and funding, and the guild, in turn, provides them with the benefits their technology can provide.
Beatrice doesn’t go over the different pirate groups in great detail, but describes how each group holds loyalty to a captain, their vessels their homes more than the city they dock in. Captains Gendrilax, Venille, Den, and Anjey are the main names you want to watch out for, their crews the biggest as far as this city is concerned. Usually any of the crew are referred to as members of their captain’s crew, but Anjey’s crew also go by the “Crimson Chains”, believing the blood-covered chain links they carry with them signify their brotherly bond… or some such.
As Beatrice is finishing up, you notice the mist start to dissipate. For the first time in what feel like an eternity, you gaze out and see the sky, the orange and purple twilight of dusk painting the sky.
“Even though there is probably much more than I could ever tell you, I hope that is sufficient enough.”
“Well, I could always know more, but thank you all the same – that was quite informative.”
Beatrice smiles again and nods before looking back to the path ahead of you two.
“Ah, and there it is!”
You look ahead to where Beatrice is pointing, down the path, and can make out a faint shape in the distance, a few specks of orange lining its figure. A wall, almost thirty-some feet in height, is at the end of the path, far off in the distance. You can’t really see any details, but you assume that to be Bayton, or at least, the walls of the city.
“Good… this walking was starting to get to me.” you say, a bit of elation in your breath.
“Heh, a regular gang-light… well, hopefully you’ll find whatever you are searching for in the city… actually, why are you here in Bayton?”
You realize you didn’t exactly divulge the letter from before, or that your overall goal was to get to Respeiro.
“Well, I’m actually only trying to get here to take the train to Respeiro – it is there that I think I have my only lead, a man who I’m supposed to contact at the messaging station in that city.”
“Ah, I see… well, good luck and please, if there is any other way I can help, I’ll try.”
“Actually, I did have one more question... it was about you: what is your story, how did you come to be in the guild?”
Beatrice purses her lips for a second before taking a long breath. She seems hesitant to answer, the topic apparently not one she enjoys discussing.
“Alright, but know that you’re lucky to even get what I’m telling you now…”
You perk up, listening intently. Beatrice lets out another heavy sigh before she begins, gathering her thoughts. She doesn’t look at you as she speaks, only staring straight ahead towards the wall.
“I’m not sure if you know or not… but all orcs came from an archipelago far to the south. Our homeland there, was made of dozens of tribes, all sailing between the islands. Sailing is in our blood, even long before we made contact with any other races some hundred years ago. Still, our traditions labeled us as “vicious” and “savage” in the eyes of outsiders, an image that still clings to us even as we went out into the world. And so it was with this reputation, that I am confused as to why my mother set foot upon those islands, where she was raped and then subsequently tossed away like trash. She came back, to this city, and lived for only a few more months until she gave birth to me. The guild took me in, but even with all our knowledge, our propensity for figuring out the ways of everything… I never figured out what drove my mother to those islands. And I never will.”
You listen to her story intently, not wanting to seem at all uninterested. Her face has taken on the same crestfallen expression from earlier.
“That’s all I’m really willing to divulge at the moment, it was my being half-orc that originally piqued your curiosity, yes?”
You don’t want it to seem as though that is the only reason you asked, you nod, but quickly follow up saying that it was only part of the reason and that you had really wanted to ask about her training at the guild and her life in general.
Her mood seems to soften as you say this, but it seems all for naught.
“I’m sorry, but most of anything that relates to the guild is confidential. As someone to whom I owe my life to, I would tell you, but I am sworn to secrecy.”
“I understand” you reply, disappointed, but aware of her position.
Most of what you had asked having been answered, the two of you continue your walk to the city’s gates. Of course, you can’t help but wonder about Beatrice’s appearance: while you still have your top, Beatrice doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest about walking into the city with chest and nether regions exposed… you guess you’ll see how it will all play out when the two of you reach the gate.
Results:
- “What kind of city is Bayton?”
- Ask about her group.
- Ask about her specifically (training, background, etc.)
- Orc lore/racial stuff.
- Goblin potion for examination
- Tell Beatrice about the Amnesia and how you ended up in Brill.
- Ask about her group.
- Ask about her specifically (training, background, etc.)
- Orc lore/racial stuff.
- Goblin potion for examination
- Tell Beatrice about the Amnesia and how you ended up in Brill.
The two of you continue on your journey to the city unhindered, noises deeper within the tree-line reminding you of where you are but never presenting themselves as threats. For a while, the two of you continue on without exchanging any words, simply focused on walking, but you find yourself more and more curious about your destination with each passing second. Beatrice had mentioned pirates before, you’re sure, but what exactly was her guild doing in such a place like that? Beatrice herself was also a bit of a mystery herself: sure, you know she’s an “Artificer” and a half-orc, but what else is there to her? You remember back to when you questioned her before, Beatrice having become quite defensive when you asked last time – perhaps now, with all that the two of you have just been through, she’ll be a little more open. Even so, you feel as though you owe her a better explanation of your story, regardless of whether or not she feels as though she owes you: You decide it best to tell her about your Amnesia, if not to build a bit of trust between the two of you, to find out if she knows any way of recovering your memory.
“Beatrice” you begin, breaking the silence, “I know you feel as though I don’t owe you anything, but please, I have some questions that need to be answered and I feel as though after you hear what I’m about to tell you… everything will be a bit clearer.”
You can see her look down a bit, pondering your words. She holds her gaze to the ground for a bit but eventually nods.
“Go ahead, then.”
You have trouble at first, wondering which elements of your story you should include or leave out, but ultimately opting to tell a very basic version of the tale: you mention how you were on the train when you first came to and how to encountered Raphael and Alex. You refrain from mentioning the letter however, thinking that it might be a little too sensitive – you can always bring it up later if you so choose.
You cover Novo, how you managed to acquire the crystals, your training with Tinder, and your exchange with Scarper - leaving out his attempt to have you – and then you experience on the train to Bayton. At the mention of this, Beatrice seems quite surprised, her eyebrows rising slightly as you give a detailed description of your fight between the outlaws and your eventual plunge into the river and over the waterfall. You pause for a moment when you reach the end, wondering whether or not to mention your wound and how it had closed up on its own, but decide to divulge that as well, deciding that there is little point in hiding such a detail.
You tell her of the two goblins and the flask they tried to make you drink and how they had died by your hand. Finally, you retrieve the potion in question and hand it to Beatrice before finishing your tale, describing your trek down the river, across the bridge, and eventually into the town itself to where you had met her.
During your story, Beatrice remains silent, simply listening and taking it all in as you fill her in. Her eyes show a bit of surprise, but you don’t sense any doubt behind them. She examines the bottle for a bit before removing the stopper and sniffing its contents before handing it back to you. Afterwards, you can see her processing the story which you’ve told, taking in the events before she replies.
“So… you aren’t simply some Fae that has set out into the world.” She pauses for a bit before continuing. “… That actually makes your story more believable in my eyes.”
“It does?” you reply, cocking your head to the side as you turn to her.
“Yes, I actually find it quite difficult to believe that someone who had no experience of the world at all, to suddenly leave and be as capable as you. Sure, you might have garnered enough prowess to take out as many ghouls as you did, but not before hearing something about this valley. If what you say is true, you still have that experience – the mind may not remember, but the muscles do, your proficiency with that revolver and how you defended yourself on the train, all natural to you now. Who knows what else will come back to you as you continue on your way.”
You think about her words and can see the wisdom behind them – Perhaps she may be able to help you far more than you had first thought.
“Do you know how it may have happened? I mean, what may have caused it?”
At this Beatrice furrows her brow, apparently recalling what knowledge she may have on the subject.
“Well, I assume there would be three primary causes, the only natural way being a traumatic event or a shock to the individual so intense that they simply cannot cope, the mind purging itself. Besides that… it would have to be alchemically or magically induced, but such a task would require great understanding of either art – to have enough magical prowess to simply influence someone’s mind is hard enough, but to wipe it completely...?”
She trails off as you think about what she said: the cause was either something traumatic, or done intentionally. The implications of the latter are unnerving, not only knowing that there could be someone out there who did this to you, but that you wouldn’t even recognize them.
As you’re considering this, Beatrice chimes in again rather abruptly:
“Oh! I had almost forgotten: That potion you had taken from the goblins – it was good thing you didn’t drink it.”
“Why? How could you tell?”
Beatrice chuckles a bit before answering.
“I recognize the scent – it is an herb, Leafcap, which induces a sense of euphoria, more specifically, it is an aphrodisiac, making the imbiber go into a desperate heat. If you go near the brothel in town you’ll definitely get a whiff of it as they burn a trace amount of it in the incense they use. its effects can’t be induced through the air though, so don’t worry.”
You’re taken aback by this piece of knowledge, now aware of what could have happened should you have accepted their offering.
“I… I had a bit of regret before, simply shooting them, but now that I know what their intent was, I find trouble feeling guilty. To think, if I had taken it…”
“You probably would have been gotten your first taste of goblin cock.” Beatrice interjected. “… Well, that you could remember.” Beatrice then turns to you with a giant grin as she sees the shocked look on your face. “What? Who knows how many times you’ve-“
“I- I get it!” you cut her off.
Beatrice throws her head back and laughs aloud, a low boisterous sound that cuts through forest. You aren’t as amused, the fact that you are unaware of what acts you have taken part in… a bit disturbing. Nevertheless, you think back to the encounter, wondering just how far it could have gone. A lump forms in your stomach as you think about it and you quickly find yourself trying to think of something else.
“But seriously, if you had taken it, you most likely would have been fucked on that riverbank and then, if you could no longer resist, hauled off to service the rest of whatever tribe they were a part of. There are a few women, each year, who go missing in these parts, but some say it’s better than the men in Bayton.”
She chuckles as she finishes, but you’re just thankful she’s done talking about it. You couldn’t imagine such a thing happening, your entire journey taking such a dramatic turn would have been… no, you don’t even entertain the thought. You put it from your mind and think about what next to discuss with Beatrice, all the while, the red crystals in your bag emitting a faint glow.
“So, I was wondering if you could fill me in on some other things, such as Bayton, your guild, and even yourself to an extent? I don’t mean to pry, but I simply wish to know the world a little better – anything you can offer me could prove useful.”
Beatrice stops walking, her head titled back so she gazed up into the mist. You don’t know if you hit a nerve or if she’s simply thinking as how best to answer you. You stop alongside her, finding it hard to look directly at her somewhat-crestfallen expression. You are surprised though as a grin does slowly appear on the artificer’s face as she turns back to you.
“Alright, forgetful one, I’ll tell you, but don’t blame me if it becomes a bit boring: you did ask.”
For the next hour or so Beatrice gives you a basic run down of her guild and the city of Bayton. She starts by explaining how the guild was but a small group when it was founded nearly a century ago, interested in simply preserving knowledge. Built out of stone to protect it from fires, it was designed to stand for centuries, a veritable bunker, built to withstand even full-scale warfare within the city walls. During its time under The Commonwealth, the guild’s ability to acquire knowledge was severely hindered, those in power seeing to it that their secrets of magic and other technology weren’t revealed. It was for this reason that the guild did what it could to help the revolution, while not openly supporting it. After The Commonwealth had lost control of the city, the guilds knowledge and connections went unchecked, allowing their power and influence within the city to grow rapidly. In time, its control of the city was equal to those it was originally promised to: the brigands and outlaws that had aided the revolution. That, she continued to explain, was the other side of the equation.
During the revolution, outlaws, thieves, and pirates from across the sea all agreed to help overthrow The Commonwealth in exchange for the city. The population before was almost entirely loyal to the commonwealth, and as such, was one of the only places to actually see open fighting. It was a massacre, those that lived there were killed or raped, and the pirates taking over the city as a new haven for trade and debauchery both. Not everyone in the city is a cutthroat however, some people lead normal lives, simply making a living where they can. Merchants aplenty are set up near the wharf, and many more trade their goods to cities across the sea. Although, even if you trade with them, doesn’t mean you’re off-limits to those who raid out the same city – only Respeiro has that much power and influence. “Forced Trade” they call it, a system that’s not exactly common knowledge, but keeps the wheels of Bayton turning.
As for the relation between the guild and those who rule Bayton itself, the guild uses a good portion of its technology for agricultural purposes, Bayton being one of the biggest wine exporters this side of the Tiara. Nowadays, the guild is very secretive with what it acquires, many individuals looking to steal from them in order to gain whatever knowledge is hidden away, be it in the form of magic, research, or even weaponry. Some say the pirates and the guild are in a tense peace, but in reality, it’s a healthy relationship, each one providing the other with something hey desire: The pirates provide a secure settlement with proper protection and funding, and the guild, in turn, provides them with the benefits their technology can provide.
Beatrice doesn’t go over the different pirate groups in great detail, but describes how each group holds loyalty to a captain, their vessels their homes more than the city they dock in. Captains Gendrilax, Venille, Den, and Anjey are the main names you want to watch out for, their crews the biggest as far as this city is concerned. Usually any of the crew are referred to as members of their captain’s crew, but Anjey’s crew also go by the “Crimson Chains”, believing the blood-covered chain links they carry with them signify their brotherly bond… or some such.
As Beatrice is finishing up, you notice the mist start to dissipate. For the first time in what feel like an eternity, you gaze out and see the sky, the orange and purple twilight of dusk painting the sky.
“Even though there is probably much more than I could ever tell you, I hope that is sufficient enough.”
“Well, I could always know more, but thank you all the same – that was quite informative.”
Beatrice smiles again and nods before looking back to the path ahead of you two.
“Ah, and there it is!”
You look ahead to where Beatrice is pointing, down the path, and can make out a faint shape in the distance, a few specks of orange lining its figure. A wall, almost thirty-some feet in height, is at the end of the path, far off in the distance. You can’t really see any details, but you assume that to be Bayton, or at least, the walls of the city.
“Good… this walking was starting to get to me.” you say, a bit of elation in your breath.
“Heh, a regular gang-light… well, hopefully you’ll find whatever you are searching for in the city… actually, why are you here in Bayton?”
You realize you didn’t exactly divulge the letter from before, or that your overall goal was to get to Respeiro.
“Well, I’m actually only trying to get here to take the train to Respeiro – it is there that I think I have my only lead, a man who I’m supposed to contact at the messaging station in that city.”
“Ah, I see… well, good luck and please, if there is any other way I can help, I’ll try.”
“Actually, I did have one more question... it was about you: what is your story, how did you come to be in the guild?”
Beatrice purses her lips for a second before taking a long breath. She seems hesitant to answer, the topic apparently not one she enjoys discussing.
“Alright, but know that you’re lucky to even get what I’m telling you now…”
You perk up, listening intently. Beatrice lets out another heavy sigh before she begins, gathering her thoughts. She doesn’t look at you as she speaks, only staring straight ahead towards the wall.
“I’m not sure if you know or not… but all orcs came from an archipelago far to the south. Our homeland there, was made of dozens of tribes, all sailing between the islands. Sailing is in our blood, even long before we made contact with any other races some hundred years ago. Still, our traditions labeled us as “vicious” and “savage” in the eyes of outsiders, an image that still clings to us even as we went out into the world. And so it was with this reputation, that I am confused as to why my mother set foot upon those islands, where she was raped and then subsequently tossed away like trash. She came back, to this city, and lived for only a few more months until she gave birth to me. The guild took me in, but even with all our knowledge, our propensity for figuring out the ways of everything… I never figured out what drove my mother to those islands. And I never will.”
You listen to her story intently, not wanting to seem at all uninterested. Her face has taken on the same crestfallen expression from earlier.
“That’s all I’m really willing to divulge at the moment, it was my being half-orc that originally piqued your curiosity, yes?”
You don’t want it to seem as though that is the only reason you asked, you nod, but quickly follow up saying that it was only part of the reason and that you had really wanted to ask about her training at the guild and her life in general.
Her mood seems to soften as you say this, but it seems all for naught.
“I’m sorry, but most of anything that relates to the guild is confidential. As someone to whom I owe my life to, I would tell you, but I am sworn to secrecy.”
“I understand” you reply, disappointed, but aware of her position.
Most of what you had asked having been answered, the two of you continue your walk to the city’s gates. Of course, you can’t help but wonder about Beatrice’s appearance: while you still have your top, Beatrice doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest about walking into the city with chest and nether regions exposed… you guess you’ll see how it will all play out when the two of you reach the gate.
Last edited:
OP
Cevrik777
Sex Demon
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2011
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- Thread Starter
- #477
Re: Amarant: Unknown Path
Hello, everyone. Sorry for the delay, but I have been working on some projects, one of which you'll see below:
As I know there are some followers out there that wish to vote with us but don't quite want to read through so many long and arduous passages, and there are those that may want to simply jump right in, I have taken the time to write up the first part of a "Too Long, Didn't Read" summary. This passage is the first part of two that will describe our heroine's journey up until the current point in the story. After I write up the second, the story will continue on into Chapter Five. Until then, enjoy this recap for those of you who have been with us.
--Also I must apologize for how long it is taking to come out with the next chapter - things at work have heated up with recent events and things could be much more stressful depending on how events play out in the coming weeks. Currents issues should resolve by Sunday... hopefully
-----
Summary of the previous 4 Chapters - Part 1 of 2.
Our story follows Jacqueline, an elven woman with little knowledge of the world and no memory of who she is. She awakes on a train already in transit, dressed in a blouse, skirt, dress boots, gloves, and a duster. Standing at five feet, seven inches, she has deep auburn hair that comes down to her shoulders. Her complexion is fair, her breasts a C-cup, and in possession of an almost hourglass-like figure.
In her possession is a small bag, which contains a few train tickets, a mysterious, metallic object, some money, and a note, which is addressed to her. Reading the note, she finds that she is to travel from city to city using the tickets provided to her, and make her way to “Respeiro”, where she will receive payment for “her deeds”. With no recollection of what she has done, and with this as her only lead, she decides to follow its instructions.
The Letter:
The train stops at the town of “Folkestone”, but Jacqueline decides to stay on, the destination not mentioned in the letter. She is about to check the letter once again for anything she might have missed, but find a thief has stolen her bag. She runs after the thief, car through car, until she eventually happens upon two more individuals, one a tall, well-dressed gentleman, and the other a knight clad in armor. The latter has apprehended the criminal, a small girl, no older than twenty, Jacqueline’s bag clutched to her chest. Jacqueline points it out to the two individuals and they offer to deal the punishment for thievery themselves, a severed hand under the law of the current city. Jacqueline objects, deciding instead to take the girl into her custody, hoping she can be of use and provide her some information about the cities and world she is to travel in. The pair seems fine with the proposal and invites the two women to join them as they ride to the next stop.
The train now in transit to a city called “Novo”, Jacqueline chats with the group, learning their names and a little bit about them and the world. She learns that the blonde gentleman is named Raphael, the knight at his side is Alex, and the thief who tried to steal from her is Lyn. Jacqueline reveals that she isn’t exactly “well-traveled” and inquires as to some of the details about the world. Raphael agrees, thinking her ignorance a sign she is from the “Fae”, a part of elven culture that seclude themselves away from the rest of the world and very rarely leave. Jacqueline uses this cover for the moment as she takes the opportunity to acquire more information about the world.
Raphael tells her of the cities she is to travel through on her way to Respeiro, revealing to her that a war was fought two decades ago to overthrow the previous regime of these three cities. In that time, different rulers have come to control those cities: Pirates, outlaws, and cutthroats settling in Bayton, goblins, alchemists, and engineers taking control of Novo, and the leading revolutionaries becoming the new nobles of Respeiro, what used to be the capital of the three. He also tells her of the “Hazelands”, a valley near Novo that is perpetually covered in mist, the cause not entirely known.
As the train draws near to the station in Novo, Jacqueline asks the other two who they are: Lyn replies with sarcastic lies, attempting to avoid conversation. Jacqueline prods a little more and she eventually reveals herself to be a simple girl, caught up in extraordinary circumstances: an apprentice to a dwarf who was arrested, she was forced to flee or get caught up in the same mess, Jacqueline’s purse her target as she attempted to acquire a train ticket to escape the city and the local authorities… or so she claims.
Jacqueline asks about Raphael as well, quite surprised he doesn’t have already have a speech prepared to detail all of his exploits. Eventually, he gathers his thoughts, claiming to be an “observer of sorts”, moving from country to country and learn of aristocrats, learn of local incidents and events, and how they pertain to specific countries, governments and select individuals. Alex, the knight, has nothing to say, remaining silent throughout the entirety of the trip.
Just as Raphael finishes, the train arrives at the station and the group proceeds out onto the platform. As Jacqueline exits the train, Raphael comes up to her and places some money into her hand, whispering: “I don’t know how you came into possession of it and I don’t care, but I’d rather not have you go around not knowing what it is. Use this. Find a place here by the name of Flint & Tinder’s and tell them that Twitch sent you.”
Jacqueline realizes that he was referring to the metallic object in her bag, probably catching sight of it on the train. Acting as though nothing happened, he then steps back and bids Jacqueline and Lyn farewell, saying he has important business to attend to.
As Raphael leaves, Jacqueline turns to Lyn, wary of her motives. Lyn claims to she won’t steal from her again, offering to help her out a bit but then leave quickly after. Deciding to take advantage of her offer, Jacqueline asks the location of the place Raphael mentioned. She gives her directions on how to get there, as well as a lockpick, a small dagger, and some advice:
“Novo is mostly safe. If you’re approached on the street ignore them. If you need supplies go to a brick and mortar store; most of them will have regulated prices… most of them. Rooms are available in the tavern: “The Green Marquis Inn”. There.”
“Gypsies are mostly trustworthy; just make sure there’s only one and that they aren’t surrounding you. Goblins like money. A lot. A little coin and they’ll bend over backwards. Same thing applies to most dwarves; just make sure they don’t hate you first. Avoid orcs in general. Half-orcs are okay. Elves should be fine for you, and humans are wildcards. These are general rules and will sometimes have exceptions.”
She tells Jacqueline the lockpick and the weapon are an apology of sorts. Jacqueline thanks her and Lyn takes the time to point out a few other destinations and shops that may be of use, such as one of the local alchemists and a general store just down the road from the station.
Lyn embraces Jacqueline for a moment before saying goodbye, managing to vanish as Jacqueline was occupied with putting the dagger in her bag. Unfortunately, she eventually comes to realize that Lyn has successfully stolen from her, the train ticket to the next city missing. With little choice, she walks down the platform to purchase a replacement.
When she arrives, Jacqueline finds the prices for a ticket to Bayton are vastly different for each class: First class more than double what third class is, with second class apparently not even for sale, the cars not even in service for some reason. The clerk apologizes and mentions “if you don’t mind the lack of comfy seats and maybe a few rough n’ unsavory types it’s not all that bad”. Having not even visited the shop Raphael had mentioned, and wanting to save most of her money, Jacqueline purchases a ticket for third class.
With this done, Jacqueline then makes her way through the city to Flint & Tinder’s. On her way, she meets an “Arachne” – half human, half spider, she beckons Jacqueline over to her and offer her a gift. “Discrete Crystals” she calls them, capable of altering one’s “fate”. She explains how they may be used, allowing you to change your course in life or peer into the future to be more informed on your choices…
An explanation of Discrete Crystals can be found under the third spoiler of the first post.
The Arachne gives Jacqueline some for free, but she decides to purchase a few more from the mysterious dealer, their powers to grand to pass up.
With that done, she finally makes her way to the shop Raphael had mentioned: “Flint & Tinder’s”. She walks in, but finds it strange that no one is attending the front. The front room is dark, only a few sparse lanterns hanging next to workbenches covered with scraps of metal and various tools. Various other objects line the walls, jars, bags, weapons, tools and weapons leaving very little wall space visible. On a schedule, and not wanting to miss the train, Jacqueline steps into a doorway behind the counter and finds herself in a much bigger space. There, she meets the owners of the shop:
Tarmen, who usually goes by Tinder, is a large, bald man. A human, he stands over six feet tall and primary owner of the establishment. He greets Jacqueline and calls down Flint from the rafters above. Immediately upon seeing Jacqueline, Flint hurries down quickly, Tinder mentioning that she is quite happy to see female customers. Flint is a regular spitfire, with orange, shoulder-length hair, she stands at five and a half feet tall. The two of them greet Jacqueline and ask what she needs from their store.
Jacqueline mentions how Raphael had told her to stop by and hands the pair the metal object from her bag. She learns that it is called a “Revolver”, one of many different models of “firearms”, a new technology that has come about recently. Jacqueline learns that Flint and Tinder have an obsession with the technology and they agree to teach her how to use it for a small fee. She agrees, and Tinder gives her a basic course in the handle, care, and use of the weapon. By the end, it is revealed that Jacqueline is a natural with the weapon. Tinder, and especially Flint, are happy to see how quickly she has picked up on it, and decide to give her a discount not only because of her aiming prowess, but because she came recommended by Raphael.
Jacqueline perused their wares and eventually decided on what she was going to buy in preparation of her trip to Respeiro. The letter told her to come prepared and she wasn’t about to take any chances. First of all, she decided to buy a holster to store her revolver in instead of her bag. That out of the way, Jacqueline procures an additional pouch for storing stuff in, a rope, a rapier for close quarters, and some sturdier clothes. She also trades in the dagger that Lyn had given her for some credit. With all that done, and Flint having checked over the revolver for any damage, Jacqueline pays them and sets out, the two of them wishing her a safe journey.
With time still remaining before the train arrives, Jacqueline heads over to the general store to procure some more supplies. She had heard both good and bad things about the owner from Flint and Tinder, but decided to stop by to see what he might have that could be of help in her journey.
Jacqueline’s experience in the store was quite interesting to say the least. When first having walked in she heard a goblin, talking with another, older gentleman. She couldn’t really understand them, the events they talked about making little sense and their words quite queer. After the other man had left, she found the goblin’s name to be Scarper, the owner of “Over the Fence”, a store dealing in many different goods, trinkets, potions and baubles. She perused his stock, remarking about the price, to which he mentions how they could come to an “agreement”. Jacqueline is hesitant at first, but decides to inquire further. Scarper offers a deal, giving Jacqueline the chance to earn not only a discount, but access to some more of his stock for a bit of sexual release. Jacqueline, appalled by the idea, refuses, but still keeps the goblin’s hopes up, telling him that she will “keep it in mind”, hoping he will be persuaded enough by this to offer her some advice about the city she is headed to…
With new knowledge acquired, she continues to work her charms on him and finishes shopping, buying some more rounds, a hook for the rope, a compass, and a healing potion. After paying, Jacqueline stows the items in her bags and sets off towards the station, ready to ride the train to Bayton.
Jacqueline boards the train, making her way back to third class through the luxury car, it’s interior adorned with a bar, a card table, and cushioned seats. She continues on, seeing the next carriage is filled with crates, boxes, and other containers. Realizing third class is further back still, she navigates between the wooden maze, but ends up tripping over a man asleep on the floor. He asks for money, as he leans in close to her, an obvious drunk. She calmly pushes him away, before engaging him in conversation, the man claiming to be a knight. He spins an elegant and far-fetched tale of serving some “Maiden of Light”, but Jacqueline takes pity on the man, giving him two gold and entertaining him with some additional conversation. After a while though, she continues on to the next car and into third class.
The car itself is relatively empty, save for two elves, a dwarf, an orc, and one human, the five of them settled around the car. The occupants set Jacqueline on edge, their appearance rather barbarous, almost what she would expect of these “pirates” she has heard so much about. Undeterred, she makes an effort to avoid showing any sign of fear or hesitation and sits down against an open space along the wall. After a while, one of the men, a human dressed in a long coat, begins to talk with her. He inquires as to what she’s doing here with “the paupers and ne’er-do-wells”. She answers his question quickly and bluntly, hoping he’d stop talking, but finds him soon encroaching on her.
Jacqueline, not wanting to be caught up in anything, tried to excuse herself. The men have none of it, the rest of them now starting to come closer. She wants them, but they continue to come. She is soon forced to draw her weapons, threatening them as she manages to go back the way she came. She closes the door behind her as she makes her way back into the cargo compartment. Unfortunately, the men try to take her by surprise, one of the elves bursting forth from the doorway. Jacqueline manages to fend him off, her assailant falling back through the open door and in-between the two cars. Their comrade dead, the remaining pirates rush after her.
Jacqueline takes cover, looking to use the doorway as a chokepoint to fire upon them. The orc and the dwarf rush forwards, taking cover behind the crates while the man from before brandishes his pistol, taking chunks out of the wooden crate she took cover behind. The two in the car take turns advancing on Jacqueline’s position, the orc taking a hit in the process. They eventually manage to get in close, forcing her to draw her rapier. She dispatches the dwarf with a swift cut to the neck, the orc enraged by his death. Jacqueline deflects his attacks, constantly retreating under his torrent of blows. Fortunately, the drunkard from earlier stabs the orc from behind. He tells her to flee, and however much she doesn’t want to, she heeds his word and makes for the other door.
Jacqueline runs from the battle, sliding the door at the back of the car open and stepping out onto the platform attached to the back. Before she can rush to the luxury car however, the other elf from earlier ambushes her, dagger in hand. She manages to shoot him before he can do any real damage, but is caught by the man armed with the pistol. He gives her an ultimatum: Surrender or die. She weighs her options under the tense moment, ultimately deciding to test her luck and chuck her sword at him. The blade manages to impale itself and send him over the side. As he is hit however, his gun discharges. It takes a while to realize it through the shock, but Jacqueline stumbles back as she realizes she was hit… tumbling back over the edge and off the train as well, plunging into the river below.
When Jacqueline comes to, she is in a lake, a waterfall pouring off of a nearby cliff into the pool of water. She examines herself and realizes the bullet wound is healed, but at the cost of one of the red crystals from earlier, its form shattered into pieces. She looks around and realizes she is in “The Hazelands”, the area Raphael had mentioned earlier, everything covered in a perpetual mist that inhibits her sight.
She takes a moment to recover, checking her equipment and taking stock on her supplies to see if anything was lost. As she does so, she remember the compass she had purchased earlier, thankful she bought it, knowing she can now use it to better navigate her way to Bayton. Although, before she starts, she takes the opportunity to wash her clothes of the muck they’ve accumulated and bathe in the lake.
Jacqueline uses the rope she has as a clothesline, hanging up her clothes to dry as she swims for bit in the lake. She finishes up and walks back to where she has laid out all of her supplies when she notices some movement further down the bank: two goblins, wearing nothing more than loincloths and carrying spears. Jacqueline thinks about what to do, ultimately deciding to dress herself before trying to communicate with them. She quickly dons a shirt and waits for them to notice her, making sure to keep her revolver handy, just in case they become hostile.
They speak in a foreign tongue and Jacqueline is unable to understand them as they converse. She tries to talk with them, but they don’t seem interested in conversation, instead, offering Jacqueline a small flask with some liquid inside it. She takes the small container, but is unsure of its effects. The goblins seem to be rather forceful, brandishing their spears so as to make it clear that not consuming the contents would result in harm to her. Not wanting to risk it, she feels as though she has little choice but to fire upon them. She shoots the closer of the two first and then dispatches the second as it tries to flee. Even if it did solve the issue, she did feel guilty about having to kill them, thinking it may have been too extreme of an action. Still, she got dressed and gathered her supplies together before heading out, making sure toA procure what she could from the goblin’s bodies.
Jacqueline forgoes swimming across the lake with what she has and instead, decides to walk down the river flowing away from the lake, referring to her compass for guidance as she tries to navigate south, through the Hazelands and to the pirate city of Bayton…
Hello, everyone. Sorry for the delay, but I have been working on some projects, one of which you'll see below:
As I know there are some followers out there that wish to vote with us but don't quite want to read through so many long and arduous passages, and there are those that may want to simply jump right in, I have taken the time to write up the first part of a "Too Long, Didn't Read" summary. This passage is the first part of two that will describe our heroine's journey up until the current point in the story. After I write up the second, the story will continue on into Chapter Five. Until then, enjoy this recap for those of you who have been with us.
--Also I must apologize for how long it is taking to come out with the next chapter - things at work have heated up with recent events and things could be much more stressful depending on how events play out in the coming weeks. Currents issues should resolve by Sunday... hopefully
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Summary of the previous 4 Chapters - Part 1 of 2.
Our story follows Jacqueline, an elven woman with little knowledge of the world and no memory of who she is. She awakes on a train already in transit, dressed in a blouse, skirt, dress boots, gloves, and a duster. Standing at five feet, seven inches, she has deep auburn hair that comes down to her shoulders. Her complexion is fair, her breasts a C-cup, and in possession of an almost hourglass-like figure.
In her possession is a small bag, which contains a few train tickets, a mysterious, metallic object, some money, and a note, which is addressed to her. Reading the note, she finds that she is to travel from city to city using the tickets provided to her, and make her way to “Respeiro”, where she will receive payment for “her deeds”. With no recollection of what she has done, and with this as her only lead, she decides to follow its instructions.
The Letter:
Dearest Jacqueline,
Word of your deeds has already reached us here in Respeiro. You performed admirably as always and we praise you for your work. Now, events have been moving faster than we had anticipated; please head to Respeiro quickly, and immediately upon receiving this letter. This envelope contains four tickets: one from where you are now to Hangsmire, one from Hangsmire to Novo, Novo to Bayton, and then finally Bayton to Respeiro. Once there, make contact at the messaging station. Come prepared and be careful - those cities may be neutral but the citizenry aren’t necessarily so. Trust is a luxury you cannot afford. You know the rest and what needs to be done. Procure what you need using the money we have supplied you and make haste. And of course, may fate favor you in the events to come.
-J.
P.S. I wish I could’ve given you just one ticket but thanks to the Barons and their damn railroads, you’re stuck with four. Try not to lose any of them.
Word of your deeds has already reached us here in Respeiro. You performed admirably as always and we praise you for your work. Now, events have been moving faster than we had anticipated; please head to Respeiro quickly, and immediately upon receiving this letter. This envelope contains four tickets: one from where you are now to Hangsmire, one from Hangsmire to Novo, Novo to Bayton, and then finally Bayton to Respeiro. Once there, make contact at the messaging station. Come prepared and be careful - those cities may be neutral but the citizenry aren’t necessarily so. Trust is a luxury you cannot afford. You know the rest and what needs to be done. Procure what you need using the money we have supplied you and make haste. And of course, may fate favor you in the events to come.
-J.
P.S. I wish I could’ve given you just one ticket but thanks to the Barons and their damn railroads, you’re stuck with four. Try not to lose any of them.
The train stops at the town of “Folkestone”, but Jacqueline decides to stay on, the destination not mentioned in the letter. She is about to check the letter once again for anything she might have missed, but find a thief has stolen her bag. She runs after the thief, car through car, until she eventually happens upon two more individuals, one a tall, well-dressed gentleman, and the other a knight clad in armor. The latter has apprehended the criminal, a small girl, no older than twenty, Jacqueline’s bag clutched to her chest. Jacqueline points it out to the two individuals and they offer to deal the punishment for thievery themselves, a severed hand under the law of the current city. Jacqueline objects, deciding instead to take the girl into her custody, hoping she can be of use and provide her some information about the cities and world she is to travel in. The pair seems fine with the proposal and invites the two women to join them as they ride to the next stop.
The train now in transit to a city called “Novo”, Jacqueline chats with the group, learning their names and a little bit about them and the world. She learns that the blonde gentleman is named Raphael, the knight at his side is Alex, and the thief who tried to steal from her is Lyn. Jacqueline reveals that she isn’t exactly “well-traveled” and inquires as to some of the details about the world. Raphael agrees, thinking her ignorance a sign she is from the “Fae”, a part of elven culture that seclude themselves away from the rest of the world and very rarely leave. Jacqueline uses this cover for the moment as she takes the opportunity to acquire more information about the world.
Raphael tells her of the cities she is to travel through on her way to Respeiro, revealing to her that a war was fought two decades ago to overthrow the previous regime of these three cities. In that time, different rulers have come to control those cities: Pirates, outlaws, and cutthroats settling in Bayton, goblins, alchemists, and engineers taking control of Novo, and the leading revolutionaries becoming the new nobles of Respeiro, what used to be the capital of the three. He also tells her of the “Hazelands”, a valley near Novo that is perpetually covered in mist, the cause not entirely known.
As the train draws near to the station in Novo, Jacqueline asks the other two who they are: Lyn replies with sarcastic lies, attempting to avoid conversation. Jacqueline prods a little more and she eventually reveals herself to be a simple girl, caught up in extraordinary circumstances: an apprentice to a dwarf who was arrested, she was forced to flee or get caught up in the same mess, Jacqueline’s purse her target as she attempted to acquire a train ticket to escape the city and the local authorities… or so she claims.
Jacqueline asks about Raphael as well, quite surprised he doesn’t have already have a speech prepared to detail all of his exploits. Eventually, he gathers his thoughts, claiming to be an “observer of sorts”, moving from country to country and learn of aristocrats, learn of local incidents and events, and how they pertain to specific countries, governments and select individuals. Alex, the knight, has nothing to say, remaining silent throughout the entirety of the trip.
Just as Raphael finishes, the train arrives at the station and the group proceeds out onto the platform. As Jacqueline exits the train, Raphael comes up to her and places some money into her hand, whispering: “I don’t know how you came into possession of it and I don’t care, but I’d rather not have you go around not knowing what it is. Use this. Find a place here by the name of Flint & Tinder’s and tell them that Twitch sent you.”
Jacqueline realizes that he was referring to the metallic object in her bag, probably catching sight of it on the train. Acting as though nothing happened, he then steps back and bids Jacqueline and Lyn farewell, saying he has important business to attend to.
As Raphael leaves, Jacqueline turns to Lyn, wary of her motives. Lyn claims to she won’t steal from her again, offering to help her out a bit but then leave quickly after. Deciding to take advantage of her offer, Jacqueline asks the location of the place Raphael mentioned. She gives her directions on how to get there, as well as a lockpick, a small dagger, and some advice:
“Novo is mostly safe. If you’re approached on the street ignore them. If you need supplies go to a brick and mortar store; most of them will have regulated prices… most of them. Rooms are available in the tavern: “The Green Marquis Inn”. There.”
“Gypsies are mostly trustworthy; just make sure there’s only one and that they aren’t surrounding you. Goblins like money. A lot. A little coin and they’ll bend over backwards. Same thing applies to most dwarves; just make sure they don’t hate you first. Avoid orcs in general. Half-orcs are okay. Elves should be fine for you, and humans are wildcards. These are general rules and will sometimes have exceptions.”
She tells Jacqueline the lockpick and the weapon are an apology of sorts. Jacqueline thanks her and Lyn takes the time to point out a few other destinations and shops that may be of use, such as one of the local alchemists and a general store just down the road from the station.
Lyn embraces Jacqueline for a moment before saying goodbye, managing to vanish as Jacqueline was occupied with putting the dagger in her bag. Unfortunately, she eventually comes to realize that Lyn has successfully stolen from her, the train ticket to the next city missing. With little choice, she walks down the platform to purchase a replacement.
When she arrives, Jacqueline finds the prices for a ticket to Bayton are vastly different for each class: First class more than double what third class is, with second class apparently not even for sale, the cars not even in service for some reason. The clerk apologizes and mentions “if you don’t mind the lack of comfy seats and maybe a few rough n’ unsavory types it’s not all that bad”. Having not even visited the shop Raphael had mentioned, and wanting to save most of her money, Jacqueline purchases a ticket for third class.
With this done, Jacqueline then makes her way through the city to Flint & Tinder’s. On her way, she meets an “Arachne” – half human, half spider, she beckons Jacqueline over to her and offer her a gift. “Discrete Crystals” she calls them, capable of altering one’s “fate”. She explains how they may be used, allowing you to change your course in life or peer into the future to be more informed on your choices…
An explanation of Discrete Crystals can be found under the third spoiler of the first post.
The Arachne gives Jacqueline some for free, but she decides to purchase a few more from the mysterious dealer, their powers to grand to pass up.
With that done, she finally makes her way to the shop Raphael had mentioned: “Flint & Tinder’s”. She walks in, but finds it strange that no one is attending the front. The front room is dark, only a few sparse lanterns hanging next to workbenches covered with scraps of metal and various tools. Various other objects line the walls, jars, bags, weapons, tools and weapons leaving very little wall space visible. On a schedule, and not wanting to miss the train, Jacqueline steps into a doorway behind the counter and finds herself in a much bigger space. There, she meets the owners of the shop:
Tarmen, who usually goes by Tinder, is a large, bald man. A human, he stands over six feet tall and primary owner of the establishment. He greets Jacqueline and calls down Flint from the rafters above. Immediately upon seeing Jacqueline, Flint hurries down quickly, Tinder mentioning that she is quite happy to see female customers. Flint is a regular spitfire, with orange, shoulder-length hair, she stands at five and a half feet tall. The two of them greet Jacqueline and ask what she needs from their store.
Jacqueline mentions how Raphael had told her to stop by and hands the pair the metal object from her bag. She learns that it is called a “Revolver”, one of many different models of “firearms”, a new technology that has come about recently. Jacqueline learns that Flint and Tinder have an obsession with the technology and they agree to teach her how to use it for a small fee. She agrees, and Tinder gives her a basic course in the handle, care, and use of the weapon. By the end, it is revealed that Jacqueline is a natural with the weapon. Tinder, and especially Flint, are happy to see how quickly she has picked up on it, and decide to give her a discount not only because of her aiming prowess, but because she came recommended by Raphael.
Jacqueline perused their wares and eventually decided on what she was going to buy in preparation of her trip to Respeiro. The letter told her to come prepared and she wasn’t about to take any chances. First of all, she decided to buy a holster to store her revolver in instead of her bag. That out of the way, Jacqueline procures an additional pouch for storing stuff in, a rope, a rapier for close quarters, and some sturdier clothes. She also trades in the dagger that Lyn had given her for some credit. With all that done, and Flint having checked over the revolver for any damage, Jacqueline pays them and sets out, the two of them wishing her a safe journey.
With time still remaining before the train arrives, Jacqueline heads over to the general store to procure some more supplies. She had heard both good and bad things about the owner from Flint and Tinder, but decided to stop by to see what he might have that could be of help in her journey.
Jacqueline’s experience in the store was quite interesting to say the least. When first having walked in she heard a goblin, talking with another, older gentleman. She couldn’t really understand them, the events they talked about making little sense and their words quite queer. After the other man had left, she found the goblin’s name to be Scarper, the owner of “Over the Fence”, a store dealing in many different goods, trinkets, potions and baubles. She perused his stock, remarking about the price, to which he mentions how they could come to an “agreement”. Jacqueline is hesitant at first, but decides to inquire further. Scarper offers a deal, giving Jacqueline the chance to earn not only a discount, but access to some more of his stock for a bit of sexual release. Jacqueline, appalled by the idea, refuses, but still keeps the goblin’s hopes up, telling him that she will “keep it in mind”, hoping he will be persuaded enough by this to offer her some advice about the city she is headed to…
“Ah, yes, Bayton. The beautiful and rugged port to the south. Let’s see… You’ll find most of the shops located around the docks. Watch yourself, though, as there are many brutish types around that part of town. I would recommend any of the places near there really, especially “Grugni’s”; expensive, but he has some of the latest tech coming straight from The Duumvirate’s forges.”
“Ah, also, they may not be a shop per se, but the Artificer’s Guild will also have quite a bit of magical artifacts. If you were to find yourself among their good graces I’m sure they’d be willing to part with a bit of it.”
“There is one more place, but I doubt you’d even be able to find it… There’s a black market in that town. Changes locations every moon. They deal in much more than just the physical and the mundane, trading things such as information, secrets… and lives. Of course, even if you do find them, they won’t sell you anything for cheap.”
“Ah, also, they may not be a shop per se, but the Artificer’s Guild will also have quite a bit of magical artifacts. If you were to find yourself among their good graces I’m sure they’d be willing to part with a bit of it.”
“There is one more place, but I doubt you’d even be able to find it… There’s a black market in that town. Changes locations every moon. They deal in much more than just the physical and the mundane, trading things such as information, secrets… and lives. Of course, even if you do find them, they won’t sell you anything for cheap.”
With new knowledge acquired, she continues to work her charms on him and finishes shopping, buying some more rounds, a hook for the rope, a compass, and a healing potion. After paying, Jacqueline stows the items in her bags and sets off towards the station, ready to ride the train to Bayton.
Jacqueline boards the train, making her way back to third class through the luxury car, it’s interior adorned with a bar, a card table, and cushioned seats. She continues on, seeing the next carriage is filled with crates, boxes, and other containers. Realizing third class is further back still, she navigates between the wooden maze, but ends up tripping over a man asleep on the floor. He asks for money, as he leans in close to her, an obvious drunk. She calmly pushes him away, before engaging him in conversation, the man claiming to be a knight. He spins an elegant and far-fetched tale of serving some “Maiden of Light”, but Jacqueline takes pity on the man, giving him two gold and entertaining him with some additional conversation. After a while though, she continues on to the next car and into third class.
The car itself is relatively empty, save for two elves, a dwarf, an orc, and one human, the five of them settled around the car. The occupants set Jacqueline on edge, their appearance rather barbarous, almost what she would expect of these “pirates” she has heard so much about. Undeterred, she makes an effort to avoid showing any sign of fear or hesitation and sits down against an open space along the wall. After a while, one of the men, a human dressed in a long coat, begins to talk with her. He inquires as to what she’s doing here with “the paupers and ne’er-do-wells”. She answers his question quickly and bluntly, hoping he’d stop talking, but finds him soon encroaching on her.
Jacqueline, not wanting to be caught up in anything, tried to excuse herself. The men have none of it, the rest of them now starting to come closer. She wants them, but they continue to come. She is soon forced to draw her weapons, threatening them as she manages to go back the way she came. She closes the door behind her as she makes her way back into the cargo compartment. Unfortunately, the men try to take her by surprise, one of the elves bursting forth from the doorway. Jacqueline manages to fend him off, her assailant falling back through the open door and in-between the two cars. Their comrade dead, the remaining pirates rush after her.
Jacqueline takes cover, looking to use the doorway as a chokepoint to fire upon them. The orc and the dwarf rush forwards, taking cover behind the crates while the man from before brandishes his pistol, taking chunks out of the wooden crate she took cover behind. The two in the car take turns advancing on Jacqueline’s position, the orc taking a hit in the process. They eventually manage to get in close, forcing her to draw her rapier. She dispatches the dwarf with a swift cut to the neck, the orc enraged by his death. Jacqueline deflects his attacks, constantly retreating under his torrent of blows. Fortunately, the drunkard from earlier stabs the orc from behind. He tells her to flee, and however much she doesn’t want to, she heeds his word and makes for the other door.
Jacqueline runs from the battle, sliding the door at the back of the car open and stepping out onto the platform attached to the back. Before she can rush to the luxury car however, the other elf from earlier ambushes her, dagger in hand. She manages to shoot him before he can do any real damage, but is caught by the man armed with the pistol. He gives her an ultimatum: Surrender or die. She weighs her options under the tense moment, ultimately deciding to test her luck and chuck her sword at him. The blade manages to impale itself and send him over the side. As he is hit however, his gun discharges. It takes a while to realize it through the shock, but Jacqueline stumbles back as she realizes she was hit… tumbling back over the edge and off the train as well, plunging into the river below.
When Jacqueline comes to, she is in a lake, a waterfall pouring off of a nearby cliff into the pool of water. She examines herself and realizes the bullet wound is healed, but at the cost of one of the red crystals from earlier, its form shattered into pieces. She looks around and realizes she is in “The Hazelands”, the area Raphael had mentioned earlier, everything covered in a perpetual mist that inhibits her sight.
She takes a moment to recover, checking her equipment and taking stock on her supplies to see if anything was lost. As she does so, she remember the compass she had purchased earlier, thankful she bought it, knowing she can now use it to better navigate her way to Bayton. Although, before she starts, she takes the opportunity to wash her clothes of the muck they’ve accumulated and bathe in the lake.
Jacqueline uses the rope she has as a clothesline, hanging up her clothes to dry as she swims for bit in the lake. She finishes up and walks back to where she has laid out all of her supplies when she notices some movement further down the bank: two goblins, wearing nothing more than loincloths and carrying spears. Jacqueline thinks about what to do, ultimately deciding to dress herself before trying to communicate with them. She quickly dons a shirt and waits for them to notice her, making sure to keep her revolver handy, just in case they become hostile.
They speak in a foreign tongue and Jacqueline is unable to understand them as they converse. She tries to talk with them, but they don’t seem interested in conversation, instead, offering Jacqueline a small flask with some liquid inside it. She takes the small container, but is unsure of its effects. The goblins seem to be rather forceful, brandishing their spears so as to make it clear that not consuming the contents would result in harm to her. Not wanting to risk it, she feels as though she has little choice but to fire upon them. She shoots the closer of the two first and then dispatches the second as it tries to flee. Even if it did solve the issue, she did feel guilty about having to kill them, thinking it may have been too extreme of an action. Still, she got dressed and gathered her supplies together before heading out, making sure toA procure what she could from the goblin’s bodies.
Jacqueline forgoes swimming across the lake with what she has and instead, decides to walk down the river flowing away from the lake, referring to her compass for guidance as she tries to navigate south, through the Hazelands and to the pirate city of Bayton…
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