RE: Black Zenith [Adventure RPG / Chapter Four: Fires of Heaven]
04-19-2015, 10:48 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-19-2015, 10:50 PM by chimericWilder.)
![[Image: 0MwqQE4.png]](https://i.imgur.com/0MwqQE4.png)
As soon as the flames incited by Watson die out, Remah jumps at him, spear slashing across Watson's chest for 420 damage!
(04-19-2015, 03:02 AM)BlazerC Wrote: »Mayor still storms around the room in a blind rage, sweeping at the air where Remah was, his giant arms crashing into the walls and shelves as he continues to try and punch him. All the while the golem screeched, making quite the scene.
"Of course we're not thieves! We're god damn heroes!" Bohw shouted in response, although she wasn't really doing a good job at it in the moment, he was fast, way too fast to hit him among all the chaos! Watching Thunderpaw's ability to predict the stranger's movements sparked an idea in her head however. "Oy! Thunderpaw, make yourself useful and make the next blow airborne!" She instructed, loading an arrow into her longbow as she took aim at not Remah, but just ahead of her rabbit friend. If she couldn't predict where he was going, she was going to take a pointer and follow someone who did.
Remah laughs bitterly at Bohw's words as he sidesteps Mayor's wild attacks (hit 3-1 Vs Defense 12-6-4).
"There are no heroes, only sacrifices. Mine was the greatest, and I... Am no hero."
You bide your time, arrow readied as you watch for Thunderpaw's move.
(04-19-2015, 06:10 AM)Psych Wrote: »Renzo's brushes are not yet done, and seem to fly from his hands, before brushing down Mayor with a series of reds and crimsons and vermillions. The shades of red draw aggression to the golem and raise his strength, in hopes he will be able to dissuade enemies from attacking our allies.
The brushes moving by themselves, Renzo pulls out his sketchpad and inkwell and begins to sketch the motions of the battlefield before him. He shouts over to Watson who has now walked into frame. "You know Watson, I much prefer a nice brandy after a tussle like this, my boy. And step a little to the left if you can."
You take the brush to Mayor's frame, but soon find that his steel body holds the paint badly, not to mention the numerous dents and scratches his armor has suffered in recent time needing to be colored in with a more thorough technique, lest you miss the cavities. Honest mistakes that are easily corrected, if you had the time (Roll 6+6). Still, the bold colors should draw the attention of most foes well enough.
(04-19-2015, 05:10 PM)ICantGiveCredit Wrote: »Watson felt cinders at the back of his throat at even the slightest insinuation that he can't whip-up not a half-decent brandy.
He steps to the left, and goes back even further, to the glowing blades. Perhaps he can induce their purpose and utility or if they'll wield themselves against him if he touches them. Rubbing his chin in a contemplative fashion while staring at inspecting them might help.
You dash past Remah, vanishing into the darker part of the cave, still unilluminated by Myra's spell light yet left just outside the the runescribed room.
You consider the sword and the dagger from memory while your eyes are yet adjusting to the dim light. You have never seen the dagger before, but you overheard some of the others talking about a man bearing a dark dagger with a ruby set in the hilt. This dagger, so innocently impaled here upon a chair in this forgotten cave, matches that description. Suddenly it occurs to you where you had seen the armor and sword before; in Nirthrid, when you came to the aid of Ziras. It was this set of armor and this wicked sword that appeared then, spewing forth a tide of dark minions.
As your eyes adjust, you realize that the corpse is no longer sitting upon its chair. It stands before you, left arm lifted towards Remah, fingers curled into twisting claws as if reaching for him. Its face might have once been human, but the twisted visage it is now will never be anything but a mockery, bearing a horrid grin on its features that fills you with dread.
It is utterly silent and unmoving.
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