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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: D'oh.
Well, it seems the army has dissapeared off the face of the internet.
It happens. Looks like I'll most likely have to shut this down, but I'll post one last time into recruitment to see if I can get a few new characters.
Posted on 2007-11-08 at 18:34:44.
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
OOC: My computer's fixed. Took Dell long enough.
Back IC:
As the group walks over to the stable, Jason looks over the grass, trees, the sky and clouds, all with the glances of someone unsure whether he will be able to see them for much longer.
Thinking to himself as usual, he wonders how a girl such as Zara managed to learn dealings with the Terrani so finely.
"Zara, if I may ask, where did you learn the ways of the Terrani so well?"
He would have to watch her more--she seemed to be full of surprises. The stable drew near, and Jason detoured to call Midnight from his hunting.
They would be starting their journey now or soon. Jason wondered whether that was a good or a bad thing, given the events of earlier. He had already had to dispose of a body and they had not even begun.
Posted on 2007-11-08 at 12:27:19.
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Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: What can I say? I'm a barbarian at heart.
Greataxe
Posted on 2007-11-06 at 01:52:10.
Edited on 2007-11-06 at 01:52:27 by DemonDavyJones
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
Looking at Zara as she makes her invitation, he nods his head.
"Certainly, it would be a pleasure. And no need to call me Reverend, Jason will do. Although I appreciate the honor, I feel I have not spent enough time learning or teaching to take it upon myself."
"May I call you Zara or is there another name or title you wish to be known by?" He asks as he rises.
Posted on 2007-11-06 at 00:21:17.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: ?
OOC: Is there anyone else still responding besides TheRealStGeorge?
Posted on 2007-11-05 at 22:27:18.
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
After coming to the conclusion that he must wait and see on the Barrens and their condition, Jason also observes those around him, noticing many of the same qualities as Septimus does, though viewing them in a considerably more pleasant light. When his eyes reach Septimus himself, he pauses.
Here was a man who had stories to tell, if he would only open up. Clearly life had taught him to be watchful, though a band such as this would hopefully be able to get past that watchfullnes to earn his trust.
To make a friend, be a friend. he thinks, smiling to himself as he rises to leave. He will try to break the shell around Septimus's soul. In a hour, he will begin...
Posted on 2007-11-05 at 22:25:50.
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Topic: Dogs of War (Alternate History) Criticize Please!
Subject: Thoughts?
Criticism? Hate mail?
Posted on 2007-11-04 at 19:18:54.
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
He smiles as the "real" food is handed to him. Chuckling softly to himself, he does eat it.
When Zara drops her fork and dives beneath the table, he raises an eyebrow questionably. Shaking his head softly, he muses on the Barrens, wondering what has changed since he last was there.
Posted on 2007-11-04 at 12:15:12.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: John
Turning his head, he speaks again.
"I would prefer to rest myself, but for two things. First, a General outranks a Captain so I have no choice in the matter. Second, we just had the luck to be ambushd-poorly-enough so that we should have set back any efforts to hold the forest ahead against us somewhat. We want to knock them back further. Again, but for the brass, I would be resting anyway."
Pausing, he pulls his axe out towards the prisoner and speaks offhand.
"You have your orders."
Posted on 2007-11-03 at 16:40:38.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: John Rivindell
The man in charge of the company slowly walks over, untouched from the battle. He roughly picks up the injured man and carries him, depositing him near the embers of the fire.
"Everyone---Pack your things. We're moving forward, the rest of the division will be here within hours and we have been ordered to spearhead a foothold in the forest."
Turning his attention back to the prisoner, he sets his face into a mask of indifference.
Posted on 2007-11-03 at 11:47:28.
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
After helping with the body, Jason goes back to sleep. Wakin in the morning, he arrives in the inn, buying a simple meal of bread and water. He sits down next to Zara.
"Well everything so far has been... interesting." He remarks with a wry smile.
"Here's to hoping the rest goes off without a hitch."
Posted on 2007-11-01 at 21:11:51.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: .
A medic hears James speak and quickly rushes over to the man he points out. Lightly touching his shoulder, a small burst of healing barely brings him to waken.
"Someone here know how to interrogate?" He calls.
Posted on 2007-11-01 at 21:09:57.
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Topic: Dogs of War (Alternate History) Criticize Please!
Subject: Chapter 2
Walking swiftly across the grass towards the looming hangar, the two men look over at the brightening horizon. A thick, accented voice spoke, emanating from the larger man.
“So whatcha think the brass ‘assus doing today?”
“No idea. We’ll find out in a moment.” A level response comes from the other. As they pass within range of the lights of the hanger, their faces are revealed. The larger man, a silver bar on his chest reading “Arnold Jacumson” has dark skin, and an imposing square jaw complimented by his overall size. Tall, thick, muscular, his black-hole eyes scanning the hangar, Arnold is very much intimidating in his dark green military suit and black buzz-cut. The smaller man, John Rose, is very much his opposite. Thin and wiry, around average height, brown eyes look lifeless as he walks with a stiff, awkward gait. Fair skin shining white under the bright lights, he has a brushed-back light brown head of hair, which, together with his skin, offset the gray suit he wears, blue vest loaded with pockets.
Slowly pushing the iron door inwards, John walks into the hanger, followed by Arnold. The brightly lit building is empty but for sole mechanic by a maroon-colored helicopter. The man with the yellow vest has messy blonde hair and fair skin, and he toys with a wrench, twirling it as he glances at various dials on the engine. Snapping a panel back in place, he calls over to John with a clear, boyish voice.
“All set Rose, go ahead and take off due South. Admiral Bolivar says he’ll give you your orders en route.” As John passes by the mechanic, he lightly smacks his hand as he climbs into the cockpit.
“Thanks Brian, now to go sleep.” He replies.
“Just a moment.” Brian calls as he rounds the helicopter, coming back holding a gun with a long black barrel and a thick wooden stock at the end, wrapped in several magazines of bullets with a tripod folded on the bottom. “Here you go,” he says as he drops the gun into an impressed Arnolds hands.
“Do I really need this much firepower?” Arnold asks with a wry smile, continuing “Don’t answer that. And don’t listen ta Rosie, he don’t know what he talking about. Goin to sleep at this hour is stupid, go to the pub and find yaself a girl. Kay?”
“Um, well…” Brian stammers as Arnold hops into the helicopter, sliding the side shut behind him. Brian backs away as the blades begin to spin, buttoning his vest close as it flaps in the newly formed wind. Inside the helicopter itself, John snorts at Arnold as he swings the tail around and eases out of the hanger. Ascending rapidly, he soon pivots, putting the bright sky to his left as he flies outward. Moments later, the radio bursts.
“Launch 7-15-1, you are clear, patching the Admiral in now.”
“Rose, I’m sure you don’t appreciate me interrupting your precious exercise-” Patrick began, but he was interrupted by John.
“Actually, I appreciate it very much. Thank you for limiting my time with old Pops out there.” He interjects, pushing the throttle forward a little more.
“-But this is important. Wait-what?” Patrick starts, chuckling softly before continuing. “I doubt you’ve ever had any experience in the armed forces while Jack Devlinski was still in command of the Seventh, however,” Johns eyebrows raise at the sound of Jacks name, as Arnold inspects his gun. “He is still alive, and we have reason to believe he will compromise our security if we leave him in Florida. So I’ve decided to let you pick him up. I’m loaded a flight path onto your computer now, it should give you everything you need. Besides, you can’t miss him. He’s most likely the one surrounded by fire and dead bodies.” Patrick finishes with a humorous tone in his voice.
“That all? And here I thought you were going to order me on another suicide mission.” John scoffs. “All right, I’ll report in an hour when I pick him up.” He continues despite Patrick’s continuing insisting that he be aware of ‘the gravity of the situation’ and other such useless brass-speak. Taking a disc from a side compartment on the door of the cockpit, John puts it into the slot on the radio. Turning the knob, he reclines and smiles as the radio croons.
Posted on 2007-10-31 at 19:35:40.
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Topic: Dogs of War (Alternate History) Criticize Please!
Subject: Chapter 2
He thought for a moment, as Mark fiddled with the satellite radio. Lifting his gun, Jack softly says:
“Put it down.” Mark did so, keeping his eyes on the barrel, and watching nervously as Jacks finger rode the trigger. Jack reached with his left hand to take the radio, and tossed it away over his back. As it landed with a soft thud in the sand, he returned to the terrestrial radio. Once again, he spoke into it. “Jack Devlinski once again, requesting a direct line to Admiral Bolivar. Comply or I give my prisoner everything I know and let him go.” With that ultimatum, Jack smiled. No army could ignore a threat of that caliber.
Hundreds of miles away, a secretary in a white office in Trenton was about to do just that. Finger hovering over the talk button, she sighed after a brief moment and pushed another, and spoke.
“Mr. Bolivar sir, call for you. Man named Jack Devlinski. Says he’ll compromise security if I don’t patch him through.” She impatiently waited, flicking brown hair back over her shoulder.
“Jack, you say?” A deep voice sounded. “Put him right through.” Sniffing indignantly, the secretary did so.
In a tan-colored office the next door down. Bolivar sat at his metal desk. It was quite messy, various stacks of papers lay around a map of North America in no orderly fashion. A picture of a family, himself, wife, and two sons, hung on the wall behind him. A sign on the front of the desk read ‘Do you have your paperwork done?’ His rough, tan face was eager as he spoke. “Jack? That you?”
“Oh, no, I must have the wrong number.” Came the sarcastic response. “I need a pickup. Florida rig #17, ASAP. Can you spare a pilot?” Breathing into his fist, Bolivar shifted a pile of memos aside to reveal a list. Running his finger down it, he spoke.
“Lessee here… I have one John Rose available to fly, and an Arnold Jacumson for gunner. I can send them out and they’ll be there inside of three hours.” Shaking his head slightly, he continued. “You wouldn’t know either of them, they came on a few years after you left.”
“A thousand years ago, Patrick.” Was Jacks soft response. “Thank you.”
“You owe me service after this,” Patrick chided, but we’ll talk about that later. I’ll give the order now.” Turning the dial on his radio to ‘Dispatch Office’, he spoke thoughtfully into it. “On duty dispatcher, alert John Rose and Arnold Jacumson that they have a pickup on their schedule. Admirals orders. I’ll radio them the details when they take off in 0100 hours, due South. High priority.”
Outside in the humid July morning air, soldiers drilled, awaiting the rising of the sun. Gray light shone over a formation of ten figures, rising and falling in a series of push-ups. A middle-aged man directed them, telling them to stand. They do, the one young man falling to his knees before finally rising.
“AIR RAID!” He calls in a booming voice, and all ten throw themselves on the ground. “FLOOD!” The man watched without emotion as they struggled to rise. He breathed in to call out again, but is interrupted by a beeping from his belt. Crying “Halt!” he turns aside, pressing an earpiece to his ear.
“Please tell John Rose and Arnold Jacumson that they have a pickup assignment, and to report to John’s usual hanger immediately.” A curt voice crackles.
“Will do. Now leave me alone, I haven’t had my coffee yet.” The drillmaster dryly responds. Pointing with two fingers, he speaks. “You two! Report to John’s chopper, ASAP!” The two comply, an average-height young man with a wiry profile and a stiff gait, and an imposing silhouette lumbering behind him. Accidentally bumping into the drillmaster, the latter turns and apologizes silently. Dismissing him, the man returned to his work, resuming “AIR RAID!”
Posted on 2007-10-31 at 19:35:13.
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Topic: Dogs of War (Alternate History) Criticize Please!
Subject: Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Silent Night
The setting silver moon shines softly on the bleeding corpses. The light reflects off of the ocean onto Jack’s tired face. Sitting painfully against the hill, he cradled his leg absentmindedly. There was no time to worry about that, the bullets could be removed and any infection treated. The problem was to get somewhere where he could be treated at all, preferably in no worse shape than he was in now. He had only two hours. The old terrestrial radio that the former U.S. still monitored lay buried just a hundred feet away from him, he saw with deep brown eyes. It may as well have been a hundred feet straight up, with regards to his leg. Jack Delvinski, the fabled military mind of the 21st century, a West Pointer with twenty years in the field, was beaten by a few dozen yards of uninhabited sand. It would be quite funny if it wasn’t so nerve-wracking, he mused. Shaking his head lightly, he cleared his head of thought.
“Haven’t been a baby for some time now.” Jack observed as he fell to his knees slowly, and reached his hands out in front of him. Beginning the agonizingly slow crawl, he glanced over to the unconscious man. Motionless, the moon shining off his still-bleeding temple, the sole survivor of his patrol breathed slowly, alive but silent. Satisfied, Jack moved onward. Five feet passed. His leg was no longer bleeding as freely, although it hurt more, he noticed. A few crawl strokes went by, and with each one, the bullets hurt more. Rolling over onto his back, Jack sighed in frustration. Closing his eyes, he reached his arm up to his forehead. Another hand got to his head first. An iron grip twisted around his neck.
Flashing his eyes open, he saw the man he had struck with his pistol minutes before kneeling over him, black hair cut short and mussed from the earlier struggle. With one fair-skinned arm in a death grip around his neck, the other fumbling at Jack’s hip for his revolver, the soldier acted every bit the heartless murderer. Snapping his hand to the soldier’s wrist, Jack tugged as hard as he could, aging muscles straining with the effort. The soldiers clutch was impervious to any effort he could put forward. Swinging his good leg upwards, Jack caught him by the crotch. Rolling over, with one final burst of strength he shoved the grip off. Grabbing his revolver from his hip once again, Jack lay, breathing heavily, staring. The injured man stared back, wiping blood from his forehead, and slowly raised his hands.
Jack steadied his gun silently. The soldier’s eyes flashed with anger. Clenching his hands, he desperately searched around him, bright blue eyes sweeping nervously around.
He sized up the revolver. “Drop the act. You’re out of bullets. I know a six-shooter when I see one.”
“Says the man with his hands in the air.” Jack responded, chuckling. “Actually, this is a seven-shooter. Modified it myself. Now, if you’ll listen to me, I just might let your army find you among corpses, instead of as one.” Taking one hand off of the gun, he pointed towards the small mound he was crawling towards. “See that? Go dig it up, there’s a radio underneath. Bring it here.”
The young man slowly complies, and walks back with the dusty radio in hand. Leaning down, he drops the radio in front of Jack, and with the same motion whips his other hand out to knock the pistol away. Diving, he came up with the gun in hand, leveling it at Jacks head. Slowly he pulled the trigger. A click softly accompanied his confounded stare. Two more clicks. He screamed in frustration.
“Actually, I lied. It is a six-shooter.” Jack said with a smile. “I should win an award for pulling that off, don’t you think?” Lunging out, with his arm he twisted the gun around until the wrist of the young man starts to crack, forcing him to release it. Pulling himself back, he slides one bullet into the gun and once again aimed it. “Actually, you’re lucky it only has six shots, because if you had killed me you would have sealed your own fate.”
A quizzical look on his face, the man asks: “What were you smoking in that old house of yours?”
“Just some old cigars. Now, seriously, do you really think you won’t be tortured to death, or at least hung, for conveying false information?” Jack sighed. “If you kill me, I can’t get a ride back to the U.S., and you stay here to die when your army finds you.” Pausing once more, he raises an eyebrow. “If you be a good little boy, you get a ride with me. You must have a family to return to. Where do they live? And what is your name, anyway?”
Growling slightly, the man replies. “I have a wife and children. They live in Toronto. My name is Mark. Mark Hound.”
“How did a Canadian end up in the German army?” Jack queries.
“The Allies thought I was a spy, being of German descent. They forced me to flee, and I escaped to Germany. There’s your answer. Now stop with the questions.”
“Whatever floats your boat, but I don’t believe you.” Jack turns his attention to the radio. Searching his memory, he tries to remember what the channel was. A flash of insight, and he twists the dial. Lifting the radio to his mouth, he clearly speaks. “Mayday, mayday, this is former General Jack Devlinski, requesting a pickup onshore by Florida Oil Rig #17” Repeating his message, he waits. A few moments later, a female voice sounds out.
“Admiral Bolivar has been alerted to your request, and regrets to inform you that a pickup of this nature would do nothing to benefit the war effort. Request denied.” Jack visibly deflates.
“Damn.” He turned his head towards the cloudy skies. If and when he got back, someone was getting court-martialed.
Posted on 2007-10-31 at 19:34:46.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: .
James raises his eyebrow knowingly as Kelan looks at Holly.
When Holly asks what to do with the bodies, as Maviar is off helping the medics to tend the wounded, James answers.
"We usually burn them. But we might want to make sure they're all dead first. The one on the left's blood is still flowing."
He observes, pointing towards the archer the animated sword, now useless on the grass, had cut down.
Posted on 2007-10-31 at 19:30:12.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: .
Kelan his healed, and Holly's sword catches up to the archer, who turns in fear and tries a pathetic block with the bow, which is cut in half as the blade passes into his shoulder blade, downin him. James and his squad catch up to and surround the remain man, quickly killing him.
Posted on 2007-10-30 at 10:48:04.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: .
The enchanted sword streaks outward towards the axeman, who glances nervously at the unheld blade. Not knowing how to respond, he is quickly cut down by a violent slice to the neck.
James and his squad rush out, and come within about ten feet of reinforcing Kelan. One of the men armed with a short sword swings wildly, his sword hissing by Kelan's arm. The other has better aim, cutting his blade into Kelan's side. (2 damage)
One of the remaining archers falls in a volley of arrows and bolts, the other staves off pain from a shoulder hit and fires, striking Holly by the shoulder blade (3 damage)
The outmaneuvered counter-charge shrinks to a circle, surrounded by 20 men. A second line continues onward, one of the soldiers motioning to Intil and Arrowhawk to follow him, even as five or so soldiers arrive from the forests.
Clearly, whoever designed this ambush did not put much thought into it in some aspects.
Posted on 2007-10-30 at 00:56:09.
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
Jason appears, walking around to the opposite side of the body. Looking vainly for a wound, he sees none.
"What happened to him? Can you tell?" He asks hesitantly.
A moment later he continues.
"I will help with the body if you like. It's a shame it had to happen, isn't it?"
Posted on 2007-10-30 at 00:44:57.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: Holly+Kelan
Holly:
Hollys next shot flies into the injured archer, who falls limply to the ground. The third archer is knocked back out of view by several arrows from other soldiers.
General:
A counter-charge of about fifteen men follows Rivindell towards the enemy line. They are cut off as five men from either side come out from just under the bridge.
Kelan:
As you stand there, a few soldiers jump up from the tall grass in front of you. Two men armed with short swords, one with a battleaxe, and a fourth with a crossbow. Maviar points at James' squad and orders them to move in to reinforce you, then pulls out his own crossbow and fires a bolt that strikes the man with the battleaxe in the arm.
Posted on 2007-10-29 at 19:16:38.
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Topic: At First Glance Q&A
Subject: Roy
Sorry about all that, my computer had a hard-drive failure. Afraid I'm going to have to drop out, it hasn't gotten fixed yet, I'm writing this at a friends house.
Posted on 2007-10-29 at 00:05:16.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: .
Intils yew bolt flies straight and true, smacking into the first archers gut. She bends over, clearly in pain.
Hollys bolt strikes the second archers shoulder, sending him into a spin that causes him to fall off of the short cliff into the river.
The camp begins to awaken, the gnome who Holly first spoke to on arrival jumps up with a heavy crossbow and launches a bolt, which whizzes by the injured archer.
Appearing from the woods are a small group of ten longsword-armed soldiers, running swiftly towards the bridge. Rivindell draws his axe and shield and motions to the men around him to follow him as he counter-charges.
Maviar looks hesitantly to the rear, though he does not see anything.
Posted on 2007-10-28 at 12:00:31.
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Topic: Rylanor -- The Building of an Empire
Subject: Jason
"Thank you."
Calling Midnight over once again, he begins the acension up the rope.
Thinking, he wonders why all of this has been happening. Perhaps nature is showing its plan for him. Clearing his head, he starts to lead Midnight over to his room.
Turning around, he thanks Zara once again.
Posted on 2007-10-27 at 12:50:39.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: Maviar
Shifting slightly, he points again, where figures clad in green can be seen darting between trees towards the bridge. A moment later, atop the cliff where the river falls down from appears a motely assortment of five archers.
Calling out again, Maviar raises his mace:
"To arms! To-" However, he is rudely interrupted by a volley of arrows, two whizz by him, two deflect off of his armor, and the last he knocks aside with his mace.
Posted on 2007-10-27 at 12:46:23.
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Topic: To Break A Nation: D&D 3.5
Subject: Actually
There are no injured soldiers at the moment, but a bigger problem appears. Just after the last watch ends, Maviar points to the forests.
"Look!" He cries hastily.
Posted on 2007-10-26 at 21:23:46.
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