The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Firstly, as mentioned, double posting is against the rules. Secondly, this rpg had better develop a story line pretty quickly.[/color][/font]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Akira, you had damn well better know that posting stuff like those last few is going to get your burned, so don't do it.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Oh, certainly people are going to be yelled at Katana, but not you. I refer more to Shinobi1827 and SailorStar. Post length and quality people. Re-read the reminders thread if you need a description of what I mean (which neither of you should by now), but just pick it up. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]If people want to continue this debate, they can do it via PMs.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]While I'm sure discussing just how many posts we've all made is incredibly stimulating, can we please keep the conversation at the least relevant to the rpg, and preferably consigned to PMs?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][i]Rali let out a blusterous oath, and slammed the tankard down on the table, upsetting firstly the contents, secondly the patrons nearest to him, and thirdly the table. In fact, the table cracked. Not a large crack, but it was a pretty solid table. The human in front of Rali sneered anyway. Rali slid his chair back to sudden silence in the tavern, and stood up. The human looked at him, down at him, considering Rali's height, and started outrightly laughing. Apparently, he thought size actually mattered. Rali's response was phrased politely and patiently, but his beard nearly quivered.[/i] Rali: Would ye likea ta settle this with an arm wrestle? [I]The man grinned, raised his hands to his friends on a trestle behind him, and sat down across from Rali's former position. Rali retook his seat and placed his elbow on the table. The man took it roughly, and without any kind of dignified signal, started trying to force Rali's hand down. Of course, he failed miserably. Rali simply stiffened the muscles in his arms, hardened into coiled steel by years of work at the forge, and watched the man try in vain to move it, with some amusement.[/i] Rali: Ye look like yer havin' a wee bit a difficulty there laddy. Would ye like a hand with 'at? [i]The man glared daggers at the mirthful dwarf, and kicked him under the table. Now that truly wasn't fair play. Rali, in that spirit, suddenly leant forward, and punched the man in the mouth, with the hand the human was holding. Something of an uppercut, with as much his own fist. The man slumped forward onto the table. There was a stunned silence, before the man's idiot, semi-inebriated friends started jeering. Rali leapt up onto the table, and picked the man up by the back of the neck, the height of the table allowing him to hold, with an effort, the man off the ground.[/i] Rali: Does this bit of debris belong to you? [i]The jeering abruptly stopped. Rali shook his head in disgust, dropped the still unconscious human, and resumed his drink. Still standing on the table.[/font][/color][/i]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][i]Kattarin heard the warning and sighed. It was truly unlikely that any kind of sandstorm kicking up around now would really cause that much of a hinderance to her, and for good reason. She'd brought her own tent. And she'd made sure it didn't let sand in. Multiple canvas layers and all. She simply lay back, making sure the tent flap was tightly closed, and tied off. More for keeping out people than sand. After all, provided they all survived, she didn't want a lot to do with them at the moment. When one considered that the only reason she was here was because of people, that made a little more sense. Besides, they were all pretty much alive, though maybe not in the mental sense, and not in imminent danger of incipient mortality, so she was pretty redundant anyway. And conversationally dead with anyone who wasn't from back home. Strange, thinking of Australia as home. After all, she wasn't really Australian, not in a biological sense. In a personal sense though, she was. It wouldn't have worked with any other country, Australia being probably the most multicultural place on earth, but even so, Russians were somewhat rare. Still, she had quasi-fitted in there. Here, surrounded by people she didn't know, the only comfort she had was the environment...And in a place like this, that really kind of sucked.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Or not. To those members actually in the rpg, please continue without the random stuff, to those members not in the rpg, please read my sticky "reminders" to get the hang of this. And as for Inuyasha40291, I strongly recommend you re-read every bit of forum rules you can find before you post anything.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Alright, I can see some of the people here are rather new to rpging. In OB's Adventure Forum, a level of post quality and length is insisted on, to help stop spam, and to make rpgs more enjoyable. For a full explanation of this, please read my sticky thread "Reminders." Thank you.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Hmm. Despite my dislike for people who post in these threads when they shouldn't, they've basically covered it. Reading the sticky thread "reminders" is probably your best bet on learning how this forum operates.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Would you people please not spam in threads like that?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]What dictionary are you reading Dayday? "I ain't doing nothing" being more formally"I and I not doing nothing"? Not likely. It is actually, am not, though it's a colloquialism more than a contraction. And another note, upping is in my dictionary. Macquarie Third Edition. And on the relevant note, this is all spam. Bad spam. So cease it now.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Hmmm. Double B Diago, I believe, mentioned the phrase "post quality" earlier on. It seems I have to do the same. Particularly you Anime_Forever, and you, Black_Pheonix. Improve it, both in terms of length and quality.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]I'm afraid, people, that quite a lot of these posts are really pushing the limits of acceptable, in terms of length and quality. Let's improve them, shall we?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]How many times have I told you that rpgs like this won't cut it? Do not make me tell you that, or anything else, again.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Hmmm. I can see you've put [i]some[/i] effort into this, but can you please put more detail into the backstory, beef it up a bit, so to speak?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][i]It was four of five hours later when Kattarin realised two things. Firstly, and most annoyingly, she was still awake, which was to be avoided. Secondly, she still had no idea what the hell his name was, or even if he was willing to give it. It seemed, then, that both these problems could be remedied at once. She got up, and rather determinedly walked into the next room. He, whoever he was, was sitting silently, motionlessly, on a huge recliner chair, one leg absently sprawled over the arm rest as he lay back. It was inherenty graceful, though it should have appeared awkward. Kattarin shook her head and walked into the room, having not trouble picking her way by thin moonlight. She took the other chair, and looked at him a long moment before speaking. Even then, he beat her too it.[/i] "You couldn't sleep,and you don't know who I am?" Kattarin: Basically.... Well, exactly, really. "You can't sleep because you don't yet trust me...though in what way you don't trust me, or yourself, I won't get into, and as for my name...." [i]There was a moment's silence. Kattarin eagerly leant forward." "Jimmy" [I]Kattarin fell back against her chair, somewhat bitterly disgusted...[/i] "Sorry, let me rephrase that."[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Name: Rali Kreigyr Age: 29 Race: Dwarf! Weapons: Twin handaxes - About a foot long in total, with four inch crescent blades. Lochaber - Big, very big, axe. The haft is about four foot long, and the single blade is nearly a foot in length, and six inches at its widest point. Also crescent shaped. Battle Axe - About two and a half feet long. Has a typical heavy axe blade on one side, and a round, flat hammer like object on the other, for the backswing. I'll cut yer legs off, then break yer damn fool skull as ye fall! Outfit: Chain mail, without coif. The mail is tightly locked, but supple, and forms a perfect shirt. Starts just below his waist, and stops over the shoulders, covers the upper arms and stops just before the elbows. Wears leather bracers on his forearms. Metal, supple plate gauntlets for his hands. A heavy helmet, with nose-guard and cheek plates that stop at the outer edge of his eyes (though on his cheeks, so an inch below his eyes), rather than a visor. The helmet, of course, has two large horns on it, believed to be minotour's. A pair of sturdy leather breeches, with greaves, and hard soled, hobnailed, battle boots. Magic: None, aisiding a little...personal charm, if ye get m' drift.... Appearance: About four foot tall, and that's tall for dwarf. His skin is slightly brown, tanned more by years at the forge than by the sun. His hair, and complimentary (very, very complimentary in his opinion) beard are heavy, large, and very, very red. His hair is normally worn free, and its wildness makes him look like a hillman or berserker. His beard hands down almost to his belt. He's very, very well muscled, even for a dwarf, and is quite literally as tough as the steel he forges. His eyes are blue, and filled with an inner fire. Occupation: Blacksmith. Forger of fine steel and weapons, capable a' breakin' goblin hide or pasty elf skin with ease! Description: Rali idealises nearly everything a good dwarf wants to be. He's a forger of metals, he loves a good ale, a fine story, and a fierce fight. He's generally easy going with friends, but remains very distrustful of those he doesn't know. Dwarven trust is hard to earn, but rock-solid. His sense of humour seems to be amusing only to dwarves, and they're also the only ones who appreciate the gravelly ballads he occasionally belts out, usually under the influence of that good ale (of course, most of the other patrons are by that time either on the floor or waking up the next morning...Weak as water!). He has a lot of respect for wisdom and intelligence, possesses quite a bit of the former, and a modest amount of the later, but still won't hesitate to simply pull a large axe and hit things with it. He certainly doesn't take much too seriously, though can be as stoic as the situation calls for. History: Rali grew up in the forge, and that's where he wants to stay. However, the great dwarven underground kingdom of Raggoth Grathen has been running into a few problems. Situated under a huge mountain, the side of the mountain, and lower caverns below the dwarven city, are home to goblins and orcs. Normally, these feral creatures are no match for the hardened dwarven army, but lately they've appeared in numbers too great for the dwarves to match. Rali, being a highly respected member of the community by both the common folk and the elders and clerics, was designated to travel to the surface, and determine whether some human or elven army has been pushing the orcs and goblins into the dwarven realm, or whether it is something darker....Rali is a trained warrior, like all dwarves, and strong and hardy even by their standards, and well-versed in dwarvish lore (though he knows little about daily surface life), so he really was the best suited to the job. He worked day and night at his forge to outfit himself for the journey, then set out, carrying only his weapons and armour and provisions. And a small blacksmith hammer, just in case a small village happens to have a spare anvil... Likes: Ale! And axes! And hackin' at skinny elves! And a good long tale in the long hall during winter, and a good glowin' piece of fine steel, and a hammer in me hand! Dislikes: Elves! Weak, pasty little critters. And goblins and orcs. And bathing! Bathing is for elves... Style: Style eh....Anything from "I dinnae ken what yer talkin' aboot!" to "Where's me drink?" to "I KILL YOU, I KILL YOU ALL!", depending on mood.... (OOC: Gods, it's going to get difficult typing in that accent....)[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]What the hell is going on in this thread? Can you people PM each other to straighten out your problems, then EDIT your random posts into sign-ups where applicable.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Well, considering all the other sign-ups we have, I don't believe I'll be signing up as a "helper". I didn't really want to anyway.... Name: Alekain Rythain Age: 8654 Sex: Irrelevant Race: Formerly human, of indeterminate descent, now something else entirely. Religion: Well, was a focus of a religion for a while, but not really. Bio: In mortal life, Sinistrad was something of a trouble maker, thus the moniker. He, of course, ended up getting involved with some people he wasn't supposed to... When he was born, moondark, Sinistrad was already cursed. He was actually still-born, and was revived by the mid-wife. His parents feared him, his peers reviled him, for he was believed to be beyond death. Sinistrad took this to his head, and attempted to become more in touch with the darkness that could not touch him. He became an amateur necromancer, and indeed became involved with a Bone Pheonix from several thousand years ago. The oldest known sentient. Sinistrad didn't really impress this being much, but he was required. The Bone Pheonix, whos name was Kyral-Alekain, grew tired of Undeath, though not of immortality. Rather, he wanted the fire of sensation. So he strung the rather callow youth along, tempting him with knowledge, giving him the idea that those around him would fear and revere him even more, after he gained his true potential. So Sinistrad went along with his mentor, drawing his soul further and further into blackness. Sinistrad took part in assorted forbidden, esoteric rituals, arcanus sealed by the higher powers of old. Kyral-Alekain had found them some centuries ago, and turned them to his own purpose. Sinistrad took part more or less unwittingly, without a true knowledge of what he did. Kyral-Alekain induced pure arrogance into Sinistrad, and convinced him that corrupting this world was not enough. He convinced Sinistrad to try plane-walking, and once Sinistrad's soul was out of his body, he possessed it. He had what he wanted, so he left Sinistrad's disembodied spirit to do as it would, and disappeared into eternity, leaving behind only a now decaying skeleton. Kyral Alekain, now known as Alekain Rythain after an absortion of another soul, still exists, as a physical being, for no reason other than curiousity. Decription: Sinistrad was seventeen at the time, and looks it. He's dark skinned, very dark, and about 5"10. Muscular, without being bulky. Actually on the slender side. His eyes are brown, and he is completely bald. He wears whatever he feels like. Misc: Still possesses a lot of the abilities he had as a Bone Pheonix. Name: Sinistrad Age: About 4000 Sex: Irrelevant Race: Exists as pure spirit form Religion: Again, none. Bio: Well, Sinistrad, after having his body stolen, spent about three quarters of a millenium working out how to really control a spiritual form. He'd never had a truly disciplined mind, so it took him a while. He now exists in order to take back his body....He's not been very good at it so far. Decription: Pure spirit[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]They're style is very distinctive, I must say. I've heard very few of their songs, but what I have heard, I like quite a lot. My favourite song so far would have to be Walk Away... I think the only problem with them is that in every song I've heard, the guy's voice starts off really smooth, then gets rougher after the first chorus...Makes me wonder what exactly is going on.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kattarin had instinctively followed the young male Reploid that wielded the katana, assuming that he actually had a chance of surviving this. As they dove behind yet another piece of inadequate cover, he caught her eyes. She gave him a tight lipped smile, a slight upturning of one side of her lips. Her blade slid into her hand, and she gestured silently to the drone that rotated back and forth about twenty feet away, waiting for a Reploid to break cover. Then, assuming he'd follow her lead in one way or another, Kattarin rolled into the Drone's field of view, her sword held vertical, in the direct centre of her body. Sure enough, the Drone, with typical mechanical accuracy, sent a steady stream of fire into the centre of Kattarin's body. With a concatenation of minature explosions, the rain of projectiles struck Kattarin's basically sub-sub atomic sword. The Drone almost instantly realised its mistake, and shifted its aim slightly to the left. By this time however, Kattarin was in range. She took to the air, her right leg striking one of the Drone's gun arms, and knocking it aside. Her sword slid down to remove another arm. Her flying side kick terminated in a quick drop. From there, she threw her left leg into an inner crescent, skewing the Drone's field of view. It responded by exposing its blades, striking at Kattarin with the agility of a viper. Kattarin used her own blade to defend, placing a large circular hole in the Drone's weapon as her flamberge's make-up half destroyed the blade. Her left leg came up, she rotated on her other foot, and thrust out in a quick side kick. The Drone, on its treads, simply slid back. Which was basically what Kattarin wanted. As it moved forward again, she sidestepped and leapt forward, putting her behind the Drone. Sure enough, it turned to follow her movement, though it rotated only its torso. Kattarin was greeted with the result she had hoped for, a katana slicing in to pierce the centre of the Drone's torso. What kind of blade it was immediately turned into a more interesting question. Kattarin was interrupted by a spray of mini-gun fire. She again dove away, rolling to her feet and pressing her back to a support beam. She was unsure where the katana wielding Reploid had gone, or even if he was alive. Either way, the Drone they had damaged was slightly uncertain, apparently only semi-functional. Kattarin waited for it to clear the support pillar, and sliced upwards, seeking to remove move of its torso area. The drone backed away, and Kattarin noted a slight shimmer over its body, some kind of energy shield. Which meant her blade was simply any other sword at this point. She sighed, and came in fast with a backhand cross-slash, that twisted into a quick thrust. The Drone simply slid away again, and started to raise its minigun arm, one of the few remaining. Kattarin bounded forward, and slapped the flat of her blade onto the barrels of the gun, just covering them. The Drone looked at her in confusion, and fired. Apparently, it hadn't gotten the point the first time it had fired on her. Countless rounds hit sub-atomic particles, and the nucleus of the bullets suddenly exploded, forced apart by neutrinos moving at phenomenal speeds. No nuclear explosion like one would expect, but enough to blow most of the Drone's arm off, and do significant damage to that tread. Now unbalanced, the Drone fell to the side, its entire body now on an angle. Kattarin had fared somewhat better. The explosion had been directed inwards, and she had merely been thrown backwards. She struck a wall and rolled away before another Drone could target her. For now, she could concentrate on how the other people in the room were going. [/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Name: Kattarin Alekseyevic Age: 29 Gender: Female Specialty:Survival Specialist Bio: Kattarin is one of those incredibly rare Australian-born, Russian bred type people. She grew up in the centre of the desert continent, and being Russian, burned horribly. Never one to take things like that lightly, Kattarin decided that she'd spend her life in the desert, just to show the damn thing exactly what it had coming to it. She ended up spending most of her life with the local tribe of Aboriginals, and learnt just about everything she needed to know. And a lot of things she didn't need to know... Anyway, she ended up involved in this because...she...well....she got deported. Forcibly. There was a little trouble when she and a few friends took a trip to Sydney....A couple of racists....It got ugly. They objected as much to her accent as anything else though... Anyway, Kattarin thought it would be best to leave the country. She ended up in another desert, perfectly happy, and with only a little blood on her knuckles.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kattarin remained silent, allowing him to introduce himself, and state his case, before she spoke or dismembered him. She wasn't certain which she'd try first. Either way, the man in question didn't seem bothered. He took a seat across from her, an amused glint in his eyes. Kattarin didn't meat them, instead surveying her surroundings. Very Gothic, of course. She'd swear she could see ivy climbing up one wall. Black leather chairs folded seamlessly into dark walls and dark floor, leaving the room an empty void. The occasional piece of grey, not silver, metal emanated softly out at her, showing a small detail of furnishings. She turned back to the inhabitant, who still remained reposed on a very large, upholstered, chair. He was still simply looking at her, without a lot more expression than last time she'd checked. This time, however, he eventually responded with conversation.[/i] "Welcome to my den of iniquity" Kattarin: I can tell. "Astute one, aren't you. The next question, no doubt, is why exactly you are here" [i]His voice was soft, almost resonating, and overlaid with several tones of emotion, all well hidden.[/I] "To put it bluntly, I have no idea. You're here because I decided, at the time, to drag you along." Kattarin: A better story would be why you needed to "drag" me anywhere. "Well, that's a rather long story. Kain, in his reign, attempted to gather all vampyric kind under his banner, and rule over all living things. The humans, of course, never had a chance against that kind of vampyric army. There were a few of us however, older ones mainly, rogues, who desired not to live in such a world. We avoided Kain and his minions, dispatched them when we had too, which was often no hard task, considering we were older than they by countless years, and preyed on humans as we would. Eventually, they learnt to recognise us, and they started sending special groups designed to hunt us down. Extermination squads, basically. In this case though, they failed rather miserably. They didn't stop though. This, did, however, lead to another problem for Kain. Several of us decided that sabotage would be a perfectly reasonable form of retaliation. Entropy-based warfare. We killed vampyres at every opportunity, then disappeared. We freed whole trains of human slaves, especially when the war started. Inbetween battles, far from any populace, they needed them badly, and we didn't let them have them. We starved many. Kain, of course, took it personally. So the attacks on us redoubled. We, for a while, actually joined forces with the humans, and sowed slaughter in open battle as well. When Kain was defeated, we made a pact with the humans. We'd be allowed to go free, provided we disappeared, and made no more. No elder vampyre spawned any progeny from that point on." Kattarin: But some younger followers of Kain survived? "Of course. They spread, and created followers of their own. For a while, my brethren and I occupied our nights by putting down resurgent cults, each of which had a leader firmly convinced they were the paramount choice for a successor to Kain. Eventually, they settled down, and we returned to our solitary existance. " Kattarin: Then what were you doing in public like that?" "There was a stipulation we insisted on when we bargained with the humans. If Kain returned ...how do you say it now? All bets were off. We needed to be free to help defeat him, and we all were, at that point at least, creatures of honour." Kattarin: At that point? "There have been a few Decays, into mindless beasthood, but other than that we've all turned out okay." Kattarin: So you're wandering around trying to find some way to help defeat Kain? Assuming, that is, that he is actually back. "I assure you, he is. And yes, that is my main goal. I was actually trying to determine whether any of the survivors of the last war were in the area, as they would be most helpful. You, however, will probably do." [i]That last was delivered in what sounded like overwhelming condescension, though Kattarin detected an undertone of wicked mirth. Kattarin sighed, and stood up, walking further into the room.He stood up, and she was again struck by how imposing he truly was. Six eight, arms as thick as her waist, without that overly bulky look. Truly told, his amazing musculature was in perfect proportion to his height. Kattarin shifted her attention back to the room, only to have it dragged back again as he spoke.[/i] "You realise in being seen with me, and we did leave survivors, you've singled yourself out as a primary target" Kattarin: I've done this all my life. It's nothing new. "Nevertheless, I think it would be best if you remained under my protection." [i]Again, he was gently mocking her. The hair on the back of her neck started to rise at the intimation though. On the other hand....[/i] Kattarin: I'd be honoured... [i]If he was shocked, it didn't show. Of course, she couldn't actually see him at the moment, but she didn't let that dissuade her. She heard him moving around behind her, and when she turned, she was forced to laugh. Despite everything else, he was still the kind of person who had a bed set away for guests.[/i] "You humans need your sleep far more than we do" [i]Kattarin sighed, waved it off, and acquiesed anyway. She was, actually, somewhat tired. He retired from the room rather quickly, but didn't fail to catch her warning look.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kattarin chose to lean against the wall, out of the way, unobtrusive as possible. For several reasons. For one, she was fully confident, as only a non-human being could be confident, in her physical status, and she was quite certain that whatever was ahead, Drones or otherwise, would require far more mental preparation than physical. The Drones's weaknesses had been instantly analysed of course, and multiple potential attacks patterns developed. But that was truly not the real problem. Kattarin was more ...interested, though the term had to be used rather lightly, in the upcoming "Group activity". The question was how much independence to maintain, anonymity perhaps, while still showing the ability to mesh together with other Reploids as a cohesive team. Kattarin dismissed the idea, willing to deal with it either subconsciously, or later. For now, she examined the other potentials in the room, a rather disparate bunch, in both behaviour and psyche, if she was any judge of character. She had only seen one of them before, the young appearing male who had apparently preceded them into the room, who now had a katana flowing through air as if through water, all controlled floating grace. Earlier, the first time she'd come to this complex, she'd spied him from a distance, and hadn't taken particular note of him. Of course, had she seen any of the others in this room, she wouldn't have taken note of them either. The lights in the testing chamber were starting to brighten, though from the number of people here, not everyone was present. Perhaps punctuality was some kind of prerequisite. Ironically fitting. Suddenly bored with stillness, Kattarin stepped forward, her three foot, thin, waved blade flicking into her fingers and activated without her having to think about it. Cross slash, backhand, drifted into a reverse oblique strike upwards. Kattarin spun the blade through her fingers until the hilt was in a backhand grip, and stabbed it forward, to where an opponent's head would approximately stand. Twirling it through her fingers again, she followed the path cut by the previous diagonal slash, though from top to bottom this time. Once her elbow was at the zenith of its movement backwards, she stabbed forward, a midsection rending move. Her left foot slid smoothly forward, and she spun towards it, a backhand horizontal slash leading out of the motion. Kattarin stopped the blade instantaneously in the air, and stepped back, disabling it and returning it to the baldric. Sword technique was secondary to physical extension of her body, but for now that would do. She countermanded that a second later with a triple sidekick, starting from kneecaps, rechambering only to extend to a solar plexus blow, then to the head, an upwards more than forwards motion that would no doubt snap an opponent's jaw, or at least leave them staring at the ceiling. Kattarin stepped forward onto that leg, and threw herself into a quick spinning heel kick with her other leg. She followed that with a reverse ridge hand with her left arm, a right upper midsection that folded back into a backfist, then a left palm strike. Upper and lower body limber as ever, she noted clinically. She returned to her repose against the wall, eyeing the now relatively bright chamber with what was basically apathy, but still more interest than the rest of her surroundings.[/font][/color][/I]