The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Mari » Tue Mar 03, 2009 12:05 am

((Open to everyone. This is a classic medieval fantasy RP taking place in a land called Optasia. The Baron McGoun has put out a call for heroes as he has a quest that needs a'questin'. Magic is fairly common- there are several schools of mages practicing different magics such as Elemental, Battle, Black, etc. so your character can use any and all, though generally persons would choose to specialize in one. Other than that, pretty much anything goes. Have fun!))

A horse. A woman. A cobbled street.

She gripped the reins tightly, her face set dead ahead. The scabbard at her hip swayed with each clip, clop of the horse's hooves, the brilliant blue pommel just peeking ever-so-slightly out of the leather clasp to catch the morning sun streaming through gaps in the vendors' awnings. "Oi, miss, got a right fine bit o' mutton 'ere," one called, but she ignored him. All of them. Though her stomach grumbled loudly as she passed fruit stands, butcher shops, farmers' tables, she had a duty to do today. Her horse took special interest in a bushel of apples as they passed, turning its head, but the woman forcefully pulled it back. "No, Moonlight." The horse snorted distastefully but kept walking. The woman steered her down the next three streets and onto Main street where suddenly, ahead, was their destination: Castle Harron.

Perched precariously on the edge of a cliff, Castle Harron's white stone caught the morning light in spectacular fashion. Six turrets sprang from white walls fifty feet in height, each dually topped with the red of House McGoun, the castle's residents, and the gold of Octasia, the kingdom they were beholden to. All in all a splendid sight.

The woman pulled the horse back when she reached the oaken gate, stopping in front of a guard in full plate and wearing a red-tufted helmet. Beside him was a seated scribe with a red velvet tunic and a large quill and parchment. "I'm here to answer the Call," she stated.

"You and everyone else," he answered, motioning to the scribe.

"Name, lineage, birthplace, and affiliation?" the scribe asked, holding his quill expectantly.

"Anani the Tigress, born of Manol the Tiger and the sorceress Elanor of Tiegra Fief in Optasia. I am beholden to none by myself."

"Allllll....right," the scribe responded, dotting his 'i's. "To the parade ground, we'll be started shortly."

Anani nodded, and urged Moonlight forward with a "Yah!". Onward, to adventure!
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Kaye » Sat Mar 07, 2009 2:51 pm

This was ridiculous.

The parade grounds were fast filling, and hardly with any talent. Most were apprentice mages, at best, wanting to show off their meager talents and try to get in on whatever the Lord of Harron Castle. Some were swordsmen of equally meager skill, some archers...A right mess of the untalented and over-confident if he ever saw them.

Mannix tossed his head, chomping at the bit. The large, black stallion was trained in long journies and battles. Standing around made him nervous and anxious, just like his rider.

Jennar was astride Mannix, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes locked on the latest sparring match. As was a custom of the people of Terras Lee, his hair was dark and he was pure muscle mass. Living in the far north where winter was the supreme ruler, having a strong fountation was fundimental. Though his hair was dark, his skin was pale from the lack of sunlight and being almost constantly surrounded by white. His clothing was dark as well and built as heavy as his body in order to keep him warm. Being so far out of Terras Lee, however, Jennar had to admit that the heavy clothing was more of a hinderance here.

Mannix stomped his foot on the ground, sending up a a cloud of dust. Jennar patted his neck quickly, trying to calm the stallion down but it did little good. Mannix continued his anxoius prancing, shifting from foot to foot and tossing his head in aggitation. Jennar grumbled under his breath; they had been there all morning and still nothing from their part. He needed this mission. He was desperate for money and this promised some honor should the mission, whatever it was, be complete.

The hilt of his sword stuck out against his hip, and his bow and arrow resided near the saddle bags. They had only gotten there that morning, after all, and had not had time to unpack. Besides, archery was not his strongest weaponry. It was only used during hunting, after all, or strict emergencies when long range attack was better and he did not want to use fire.

Taking a deep breath, Jennar pulled on Mannix's reigns and pulled him back in check, though neither looked happy about it.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Reineer » Fri Mar 20, 2009 12:07 am

Covered head to toe with a black wool cloak, its hood covering his drawn features, K’listan floated through the crowds. Though there was hardly room to breathe without running into some merchant or fellow participant, K’listan touched no one. In fact, none was aware of his presence save for a few that had a catch in their breath. Those few would stop what they were doing and visibly pale for a moment, they would then look around with fear in their eyes.

K’listan had travelled far to be here, he had heard the calling moons earlier and had just arrived to this miserable excuse for a town. He had no idea as to why he was drawn here; the talk of the peasants and rich alike was about this ‘Call for Heroes’ and he hardly fit the bill for that. K’listan had taken on quests for lords and kings in the past, but not in a very long time. K’listan sighed heavily.

He was weary, weary from the travel. He was weary of the bustling, ever-pressing crowd.

K’listan paused in front of a merchant selling fresh fruit and plucked an apple from a bushel. He smiled as the rest of the apples immediately turned brown and began exuding a sweet, sickly odor. The shop-keep did not see K’listan, of course, but he did see his finest apples immediately go to rot before his eyes. Horror struck the merchant’s face for he believed that an omen of death was upon him.

The man cloaked in black continued on through the milling peasants until he came to the grounds filled with sparring ‘heroes’. K’listan shook his head as these fools danced around each other, some with swords, some bare-skinned and bare-knuckled. It had been a long while since K’listan had need of any weapon other than his mind and the teeming dead. For the dead were everywhere and they always answered when he called.

K’listan stood off to the side, watching… everything. When K’listan stood still, the others around him began to give him a wide berth. Soon there was no one sharing the space within fifteen feet of him in any direction. He was surprised, however. Usually there were a few of such high moral standing that they sought him out, for they could feel the touch of evil he brought with him wherever he went.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Mari » Wed Apr 22, 2009 2:47 pm

((Well I've waited a whole month, looks like it's just us three for now.))

As Moonlight trotted onto the parade ground, Anani had a look at those gathered and sighed. Most were barely 15 or over 40, and those precious few that looked fit enough to travel looked pretty hapless. Most had started to cluster too- there were packs of mages, bundles of swordsmen and women, and the occasional pocket of archers.

A young man to her left was practicing his fire magic and accidentally lit the hem of his yellow Elemental Apprentice's robe; a helpful young woman in Journeyman's navy splashed it out. To her right, an elderly archer appeared to have accidentally pinned a young swordsman's tunic to a target with an errant arrow. A fairly sore crop indeed, but then, what do you expect when you put out an open call for adventurers? You end up with those retired and wanting to relive their glory days, and those inexperienced young and eager ready to make their own mark upon the world. Most of those inbetween are usually preoccipied with their own adventures, or smart enough to enjoy the small break life has given them.

Not Anani. She needed the money, and badly. She'd spent most of her gold tracking down and killing the thief who'd stolen her sword La'Anek, her most prized posession. If she and Moonlight wished to eat sometime soon, they had better find some work. They'd heard of the Call from the barman in the next town over, and headed here straightaway.

No stranger to adventuring, Anani was also no stranger to the usual Adventuring crowd in Optasia and the surrounding lands. She scanned the gathered people, but saw no familiar faces. Coren wasn't there, though she supposed he was rather distracted with those spontaneous visions of his dead wife. She usually had a knack for running into Ryu Silvertooth, but he was probably still running from those bounty hunters. Too dangerous to show up right in the yard of Castle Harron. No Edmund, no Mika, no Perrin. Not a single face she recognized. And suddenly, though in a massive throng of fellow fighters, she felt alone.

She had come here because she needed the money. But somewhere, deep inside, she realized she'd also come to reunite with her adventuring friends. With none of them here, she'd just have to make some new ones. She shook the feeling and began scanning the crowd again for those that might end up on this quest. You know, those that weren't frequently injuring themselves or bystanders.

Her eyes settled on someone who looked a little out of place- a fellow horseman (and by his stare, experienced fighter) who was also sizing up the would-be questors atop his huge black stallion. Moonlight was a smaller horse at just under 15 hands, but this stallion made her look like a paled pony by comparison. He had to be at least 17 hands high. His rider was nothing to sneeze at either- tall and muscular, pale as apple flesh but with hair as dark as his horse. He was well-bundled, she saw, in heavy clothing that signalled he spent most of his time someplace much colder than coastal Optasia. By his dark hair she would guess Terras Lee; the people of Bronslborne tended to have lighter locks.

Anani trotted Moonlight alongside him. "Hi there!" she greeted him, proffering a hand. "Anani the Tigress. Interesting lot, aren't they?" She nodded toward a leather-clad girl, not more that 13, who was howling in pain at hitting her inner arm upon release of her bowstring.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Kaye » Wed Apr 22, 2009 3:08 pm

Some of these "warriors" had seen far too many winters to even be considered for this quest. Some were too young; he saw a boy no older than ten running around with a rusted sword that had long been in neglect and was so dull it would not cut paper. What had once been a weapon used to shed blood was now a child's plaything.

Archers, swordsmen, horsemen...there were all sorts, but few looked up to what this task promised. It was rather secret, at least to Jennar. He knew very little about this quest except that money was invovled, and if the rumors were true it was a handsome sum. It was not as though he would risk his life for nothing less than a fortune; he was not searching for honor and glory, but riches. He might have been corrupt in that manner of thinking but he needed money, and since money was as keen a decider in who lived or died in their day and age, he was willing to risk his life for it.

It was sad, what the world was coming to.

He knew no one here. He haled far from the north where few from this region dared to travel; the winters were harsh and almost never-ending. Terras Lee was lucky to see two months of summer in a year, and even then they were chilled and the ground never completely melted. It was deemed a wasteland by many in this country. But the folk were hardy and willing and could do a hard day's work without much difficulty. Seeing these darker-skinned and lighter-haired lot was as strange for him as it was for any of them seeing him, he was sure.

Mannix snorted and gnashed his bit again as another rider came along side. It was a woman, and her horse was considerably shorter than his own, and she was a little too...perky...for Jennar's darker demenor. She offered her hand, though, and he took it in his own, shaking it with an iron grip. "Jennar of Icebrook," he said, watching a little girl nearby with something akin to disappointment.

"I think that most of these men are old fools trying to regain a bit of glory before they perish," he said, his accent a little heavy. "And there are the one that are too young to even know what glory is but know that they are supposed to seek it in order to make a name for themselves."
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Mari » Tue May 12, 2009 6:04 pm

Anani nodded. "A sorry lot all around, I'd say," she replied, glancing over them again. "I wonder how they're going to decide who gets to go."

As though he heard her, a guard with a magically-loudened voice shouted over the din. "OI!" He waited until it quieted. "There will be three contests of skill each in archery-" (he gestured to the left, where some targets were set up) "-in swordsmanship and bladework-" (he gestured to the center, where a pack of guards stood holding a few practice swords and knives) "-and in Magick." He gestured to the right, where three mages in red Harron robes waited with parchment and quills. "Please proceed firstly to the area where you feel you are strongest; the attendants there will tell you after evaluation whether or not you ought to proceed to the next tests."

Several of the would-be adventurers looked startled that they might be judged and, thinking better of it, headed for the outer gate.

Anani herself was in a bit of a dilemma- was she stronger in swordsmanship or in magic? She was a swordmage, technically... She looked at the lines forming for each and saw the Magicks line was much shorter than that of the bladework, and so headed for the former with a nod and a "good luck" at Jennar.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Kaye » Tue May 12, 2009 10:45 pm

Jennar nodded, patting Mannix's thick neck to calm him down as he danced on his feet nervously. He hated staying still.

Jennar looked up when a guard stood to attention and gave the orders. Three trials....Well, that was unexpected. Archery he could manage and sworsmanship was nothing hard for him either, but magic...He had about as much magic in his body as his horse. What if that cost him his position on the quest? He needed the money...

Anani gave him a nod as though to say "good luck". Jennar returned as stiff one of his own in return. He had never been very good around people and now was no exception. Then again, he did not come here to make friends. He wanted a job and one that paid well, and this was it. He was not going to do anything to risk it, or at least nothing more than not being able to do magic, which was worrying him.

He trotted Mannix to the sparring ring, dismounting and tying the horse up so he could not go anywhere. Jennar then stood in the small circle of men and women, his arms crossed over his chest and his sword at his side, waiting for his turn to try to prove himself.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Mari » Sat May 16, 2009 3:54 am

Anani waited impatiently in the Magic line, having dismounted and tied Moonlight to one of the nearby hitching posts. The first task appeared to be conjuring something, a fairly difficult task for an unskilled mage. Things could not be made out of thin air, only transmuted from other similar objects. The manipulation of materials was a basic concept in Magic study, but one that quickly grew difficult beyond simplicities like turning water into ale. Whatever it was seemed beyond the abilities of most of the applicants, and Anani hoped it wasn't a task too difficult for herself to manage.

When her turn came the approached the mages, one of whom handed her a rock about the size of her fist. They inquired about her name and what kind of mage she was, to which she replied simply "Anani, Elemental". She had a particularly strong affinity for fire magic, followed by a decent strength in water magic, though she didn't think the judges required that kind of in-depth analyzation. "Elemental" should do them just fine, and it apparently did as they each nodded to the first. He spoke then, and commanded her: "Turn this rock into a flower."

Anani looked stunned for a second. "You can't turn a non-living thing into a living thing," she replied, confused.

"Excellent," the mage said, smiling. "You'd be surprised how many have tried today." He motioned for her to return the rock, and instead handed her a small piece of wood. "Set this on fire, in your hand, without burning yourself."

Anani smiled confidently, accepting the wood. She placed it on top of her outstretched palm and closed her eyes, calling up her Fire magic. Orange flames enveloped the wood but now Anani was concentrating on her hand itself, flooding it with Water magic to keep the wood from burning her. It quickly turned to ash and she opened her eyes again, offering the remnants back to the mage.

All three looked pleased and marked something down on the parchment in front of them, before the first mage instructed her to continue on to the swordsmanship test. "Thank you," she said, bowing her head before heading to the even-longer line.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Reineer » Sat May 16, 2009 11:06 am

The crowd began to disperse into the three lines offered by those controlling the “contest”. K’listan was conflicted. He had not intended for his name to be spread among the throngs of people gathered there. He sighed as his pale gray eyes followed the line of so-called magick users and he opened his inner sight. He could tell that there was perhaps three or four that actually had talent for manipulating the essence of magick here. Not that there was ever any doubt that he wouldn’t be chosen for whatever quest the Baron had in mind.

Regardless, K’listan had no intention of waiting in line as if he were a commoner, either. Hidden from view, K’listan made his way to the front of the line and allowed himself to be seen. The person just behind him had a look of surprise but K’listan could tell that they weren’t sure if he had been there all along or not. He chuckled to himself and fumbled forward when called.

K’listan listed his name when asked. The mage that held a smooth pale rock in his hand before him shifted his gaze, asked K’listan to hold fast for a moment, and went back to where the others waited. They finished working with the magick users they had before them and then murmured to each other for a moment before they all came back to stand before him. An older sage spoke up, “You are K’listan, of the north? From the continent of Graestia, the courts of Queen Lidacea?” K’listan could hear the wonder and doubt in the old man’s voice as he spoke.

“I am.” K’listan replied, wondering what task he would be asked to perform in order to prove himself.

The first mage held forth the rock, obviously an apprentice he did not catch the looks from the elders before he commanded K’listan to “Turn this rock into a flower.” K’listan held his hand out over the slightly shaking hand of the adept before his master’s could correct him. The whites of K’listan’s eyes turned to a smoky color that matched his iris and the young magick user’s legs turned to jelly as he felt the raw power surge from K’listan. When K’listan removed his hand, there was a rose in the young man’s hand that could have been chiseled by the greatest artisan of the land.

K’listan was quick to speak up before he was asked to do any other parlor tricks. “I see that for feats of weaponry they do battle with one another. Would you have us do the same? ‘Twould be a shame to lose most of these that stand before you.” He said with a wave of his hand toward those in the line.

“That won’t be necessary.” The elder spoke calmly, trying to maintain their composure. The elder had heard stories regarding K’listan even this far to the south and she wondered how many of them were true. According to the stories, K’listan would be able to best all of the elder mage’s that stood there today as one. “We only need to see a sampling of your power for this… ahh… stage.”


K’listan thought for a moment. His true forte’ was in death, but to show an inkling of that magick here would most likely cause the crowds to riot and panic. He settled on some more basic tricks of alchemy and sorcery. His hands worked in a flourish digging through hidden pockets and, with a word from the old language, “Flamma!” he ignited small sachets of gunpowder and sulfur.

Small explosions of light caught the attention of all around him as an unseen wind caught his billowing robes and lifted him from the ground. K’listan saw the awe he sought in the faces of the population, but only a glimmer of such in the elder mages before him. He knew that they probably saw through the trickery, but it wouldn’t matter. He had proven himself enough to be included in the quest.
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Re: The Call For Heroes (Open, Fantasy)

Postby Kaye » Sat May 16, 2009 1:25 pm

The first three men to spar were decent, Jennar would admit that. Their arms were strong and their swords fast, but their footwork left something to be desired. One kick from their enemy or missed step on their part and they would be thrown completely off balance and leave an open window for anyone to place one well-aimed prod and that would be the end of it.

The next lot were deplorable. Some looked as though this was the first time they had touched a sword, which Jennar supposed was not impossible. There were roars of laughter as one, a young man that could not be more than fifteen, dropped his sword and recieved what promised to be a bruise from his opposing fighter. He left quickly and Jennar did not see him again.

The time seemed to drag on. Those participating in the magic sector seemed to be getting somewhere, or so it appeared to Jennar. Then again, he knew nothing about magic and had been rather skeptical of it his entire life; seeing it put into action was both intriguing and frightening for him. He liked something he could hold, feel, see. Magic was the unseen, unheld, and only felt if you were on the wrong end of the sorceror.

His name was finally called, along with a handful of other prospectors. The way it worked, he had picked up, was if you were struck, you were out, and the last man standing in the ring was the winner. Then, the winners from each different sparring match would be thrown in together and whoever was left after that would be the champion.

Jennar shrugged off his cloak, going over to where Mannix was standing and putting it on the saddle horn. That done, he pulled on his gloves and drew his sword, one of very good make and with excellent balance in his hand. The ring leader of sorts called them all over and gave them the rules before magically dulling the blades with magic so as not to cause real harm (Jennar was not fond of this bit) and sending them off.

Jennar dispatched three men relatively quickly. He was a man of good size, but after years of training he could move just as quickly as the rest of them, but there was that element of surprise he had on his side because of this, and he used it to his advantage. He had to duck a few times to avoid being decapitated (in a manner of speaking) and he had to parry almost constantly, but in the end of a very passionate sparring match, he managed to emerge the victor.

"Clear the ring!" the ring leader called after declaring Jennar the winner of this match. They all got back to their feet or, grumbling, stalked away. Jenner sheated his sword, panting from the effort of the match, and went back over to Mannix to wait his next turn.
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