NeoN-HNCO Productions RP 3 - ERROR:409 (Ingame)

Started by NejinOniwa, May 02, 2009, 07:49:46 pm

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I had router problem, so sorry to keep you waiting :) Here are updates in stats and some in inventory sections


Strength 12
Dexterity 15
Intelligence 10
Karma 9
Mind 15

Skills (35/120)

Firearms 20
Class Skills (Sneaking, Hiding, Acrobatics, Athletics and etc) 15

Abilities (24/120)
Flying 6
(the wings are in state of regrowth now. It happens cuz of that half of the God Power which is still remained. Wings are weak)
Magic Bullets 18
(Auri can use as bullets her own God Power. These bullets are more powerful than common ones and can break through the different kinds of metal. But these bullets take a lot of power for the present (it is so because of pistols that use the God Power twice in this case: for making a magic bullet and for shooting) so Auri can produce only 12 bullets (After the 12th bullet no power is left for Auri, even for surviving).

Magic Pistols
Leather Armor
Boa with the hood
Little purses where reserve bullets are kept (fasten to the belt)
Middle haversack where the provision, some lead and a little kettle (Auri is using it for melting lead for the gate) are kept (cuz Auri is a hired shot so she travels a lot)

Is it ok now?

BTW The gameplay should be very interesting I think, according to Nejin's comments about it^^ Thanks, Nej!
Wit beyond measure is man\'s greatest treasure^^

I apologize for my English in advance, because it isn\'t my natural language. So if you see any mistakes or you don\'t understand what I\'m saying, please don\'t hesitate and tell me about your misunderstanding or where I have made a language mistake.




Okkkayy. Sorry about that. Feels like my mind was somewhere else that last time.

So, Vaereth character is set, does that mean we only need to wait choco and svx character?
--- When it\'s worth doing, it\'s worth overdoing it ---


That's right - for the minimum requirement at least.


Wit beyond measure is man\'s greatest treasure^^



nejin just INSISTED on fixing it :\

NAME: Choco
RACE: Human
CLASS: Gleeman
ORIGIN: Unknown, due to boot-to-the-head-induced amnesia.
AGE: copypasta. Doesn't seem old, but doesn't really seem young either - quite ageless, simply.

Towering over even most men at her 183 cm, Choco has an hourglass-like figure, weighing her in at 65 kg - those around her always wonder how ever she maintains it. Quite inconspicious otherwise, with average features and chest, and neutrally brown eyes and hair, but her otherwise unremarkable, darkly clothed appearance is made up for with her wildly flying gleeman's cloak, a vivid mess of colored patches in all flavors.
PERSONALITY: Lacks self-esteem, and can have mood swings turning from depressed to happy-go-lucky in mere moments. Likes music and sweets. Main source of depression is the fact that the only thing worth depicting in the world is nature and her ideal images of people - who, naturally, don't exist - ergo only the former is at all ever made anything out of.
Dislikes spiders, spicy things and uppity peasants who don't know their place. Is lazy - and good at it (somehow) - most of the time, when there is nothing to do.
BACKGROUND: First woke up in a backstreet of the slum town Sandpath Mar, west of Osinia, some 4 years ago. Her ragged head had a muddy bootprint and a good deal of bumps and blisters, and the rest of her a few blood-oozing gashes. Nothing serious, really, and whether she'd been mugged or just beaten up for some other reason, there had been nothing serious. At least, nothing that would show outward.
The problem was, she could not remember a single thing of who she was, or where she was from. She had common sense enough to sort out what'd happened, but not a single notion of why. However, instead of taking on a clichÃ© quest for her memories, she simply told himself she might as well take on a new start in life, and so she went off wandering with no particular goal or destination. Eventually she picked up crafts of music, art and other things that amuse people, and has since made her living out of it as a gleeman, bard and minstrel (the latter two, of course, only during the short, lucky times when she found herself in a lord or lady's employment).

Strength 14
Dexterity 17
Intelligence 16
Karma 10
Mind 15

Class - Gleeman: 18
Painting/Drawing: 10
Dirty Fighting: 10 (Includes ugly tricks, brawling, daggers and throwing knives)

Master of Disguise 10 - Along the road to storytelling grandeur, Choco discovered the need of acting skills. As the audiences grew more and more appreciating, she drove it further and further, mastering the art of changing - identities. (easy, since she had little of it to begin with)
Choco can change her facial features, expressions, her voice and many other bodily habits with ease. Equally adept at using disguises, be it make-up, herbs, masks or clothing - this combined makes her the perfect impostor, infiltrator and spy, should she wish it (or more like, realize her own potential).

EQUIPMENT: 50 Halderan silver marks, flashy multicolor-patch gleeman's cloak, an arsenal of throwing knives, a dagger, bedroll and extra blankets, extra set of clothes, soap, sketchbook and pencils, quill pen, ink, lantern, oil, disguise set with makeups and wigs, an old loveletter.


Sorry about that, Choco, but I think you know where I was coming from - and to - with that.
I THINK we're pretty much good now, folks. Terminator man doesn't seem to be around much, but if he comes to, plot twist and new chara GET. Anyway, I'll see to launching this ASAP.

Added after 4 minutes:

As usual, from launching, new characters and discussion goes into the Outgame/EWAR thread.
If anyone has any questions about the world and its structure, I'll be more than happy to give you an answer (or create one) there.



I'm coding up our launching solution, folks. Give me a few minutes to thread these things out, and we'll be in the sky before you can say 'cloud'.

Added after 1 hours 39 minutes:




Ever since the very beginning, man was a wanderer...
The clock ticked. A good road to walk... Its hand moved sluggedly, as if bound down by ropes unseen. All sorts of people stop by... a rest... a meal... a glass... The sergeant frowned deeply. Water was hard to come by now. Simply put to the torch ... burnt down... His thoughts found him contemplating the building he stood in - not a minute later their arrival, or it too would have burnt down to ash and smoke only. Some... remained ever since the very beginning... as old... even older than... they stand...
The sergeant grunted, threw the burnt book crashing into the wall, the last strands of paper tearing and falling apart, scattering its ashen remains in the air, still breaking further as it fell to the ground, until nothing but fine powder was left to rain down, spreading across the floor.
The Vassican soldier was not in a good mood. The team assigned to the capital had done their work well, and the king was gone - however, the nation was all but wrapped in chaos for it. That had those bloody Guardsmen occupied, of course, but in so many other ways, this total disorder was even worse than their presence would have been. At least, then, he knew some of what his team had to face - now, nothing could be sure, anywhere.
The house stood on the top of Mount BehegÃºr, a distance west of Alcir and its garrisons. The Slohtfyel mountain base was almost frighteningly close, considering their business here, but it was also just that that made their presence so easily hidden. Nowhere better to be than right under the nose of a man gazing off in the distance.
The shack held his team - a squadron of twenty elite agents of the Vassican army - and some thirty or forty men and women, "rescued" off the chaotic roads and cities. They had been told they could escape the chaos here, and find some peace and rest. He smiled smugly at the thought. Oh, they'll find rest, for sure. Lots of it. Endless rest.
Their corpses were to be put in places where they would create panic, molested and torn in the most terrifying ways possible, furthering the chaos as much as they could. Eventually chaos would overcome what little order was left in the hands of the Halderans, and then the main force would roll in as storms over desert. Soon, these fools will regret ever to have made us enemies. To ever have been born as a nation at all.

Just some half hour away, one of the agents was in trouble. His team of five had been leading the last pack towards the "safehouse". While crossing the wailing windgusts over the Beghiani Overpass, though, they had stumbled across the unfortunate event of a loose rock triggering many others and many others at that, causing a storm of a landslide down the side of the narrow path between BehegÃºr and Slohtfyel. The wind wailed as hard as ever, but one of the agents had still managed to let out a cry and a curse loud enough for one of the Halderans to hear. And apparently the man had been knowledgeable enough to recognize it as Vassican - and quick enough to understand the meaning of Vassicans in hostile territory. The howl of "VASSICANS!" had needed little else to it - and these folks didn't seem to be any ragtag bunch of people. He was sure the fellow with the shield was a military, or something like it, at least; and a few of the others were just as skilled with whatever weaponry they wielded.
He and the others were just fleeing all for they could run, now. Little else mattered. He mustn't let them spoil the plan they'd all worked so hard for - and what more, many other similar variants over the nation, by other teams, could be threatened as well, if they were discovered. They had to succeed.

A flame-like head rushed by, quickly followed by a shape in a swirling, multicolored cloak. A tattered tan cloak, followed by clinking chainmail and leather. The man with the shield ushered them on, with heated bellows and battlecries. Behind them scurried a ragtag band of refugees and brigands, some ten men in baggy clothing and brandishing whatever they found for weapons. Nevertheless, the enemy was in their sight. They had to hunt them down, for the peace of their souls and minds.

The stage has been set, and the curtain is drawn. Let our story begin.

[attachment deleted by admin]


Tarak frowned, annoyed at the situation. He didn't have much personal attachment to any of this, but Vassicans always seemed to make a mess of anything they were involved with.
And at this distance, we won't be able to stop them from getting away and losing us - that way we'll lose wherever they're running to, as well. Why do I always have to do this?[/color]
With a whisper of an incantation, uttering the bindname as silently as he could, imagining a cloud of melt-hot mist before the fleeing Vassicans as he readied for the surge.
The Ra flowed into him, rolling unto his soul as waves of molten iron. He staggered, trying to keep himself running while ushering it forward in the shape he had visualized, urging it away from himself, to rid himself of the pain.
For an instant, he could see arm-thick serpents of reddish haze, streaming forward at unimaginable speed - the image vanishing together with the pain as the last of the Eldra escaped his body.

Screams arose among the Vassicans. The one farthest ahead hadn't quite caught on fire, but the overheated water-laden mist had his skin boiling. Unable to stand the insane heat, he dashed aside in vain hope - and tumbled off the razor edge of the Beghiani Overpass. His bones crunching and his flesh turning to splatter on the bottom of the mountain a near kilometer below; none of it was audible on the wind-laden ridge. The mist wouldn't stay too long, but long enough force the fleeing Vassicans to stop, to make a stand.

Blades were bared among the four remaining agents; they weren't going down on their own. As the rag-clad men came asight of the hanging cloud of white-hot mist, they lost what little courage they'd had. With panicking yelps and shouts of "Witchcraft! Run!" they dashed back the way they'd come, hoping nothing else was going to come that way in the following few days.

Tarak's frown deepened. Very, very annoying.[/color]

(OOC: With that said, let's keep things short. Sometimes a little narration is necessary, but that's that for now.
Also, decide on a [color=]color[/color] for your character to use when speaking and/or thinking, to indicate that you're not just describing things. GLHF!)

Added after 17 minutes:

(OOC: Also, I made you MSPaint map. Check post above.)

Alex S

Alex looked around himself and sighed.  This was not what he had expected when he came to this plane no more than a month earlier.  He had come to help this world, and now he was involved with crushing a revolution.
Well, at least this isn't boring.
As the cry of "VASSICANS" rang through the air, Alex started to focus on the place where the enemy was and prepared to strike from the Different Dimension.
Others in this group appear to have powers. It won't cause too many waves if I use my abilities.
Before he could strike, the fiery-headed member of their party sent arrows of fire at the enemy party, sending them scattering.  With the sight of magic, the rest of the vigilantes they had recruited scattered as well.
In the chaos, Alex took out his chain-blade and focused, whipping the chain into the dimensional void created in front of him.  The chain whipped out randomly into the confused Vassicans, inflicting heavy damage.
I hope this is crippling their force. I can't see through this mist to analyze the battle.


choco stood quietly behind one of the few trees in this wastelandish landscape, watching, filled to the brim with intrigue. she thought to herself, 'gawd, whatever that guy's doing, i'm keeping out of it! why today of all days did i just HAVE to cross to slohtfyel?? *sigh* maybe if i just wait it out they'll be gone in a few hours....'. she did her absolute best to hold perfectly still, as not to be noticed and dragged into the fray.


(OOC: Choco was supposed to be in the party, and those "arrows" were afterimages of Eldra, the flow of the magic power itself, invisible to anyone not connected to the Flow, but oh well. There are always excuses for things.
Also, choco: Thoughts in italics.)
As always after using his powers, Tarak was quite numb and weary, but he still had energy enough to be startled when the man in the tattered cloak whipped out some sort of chain from nowhere; threw it, and it suddenly stretching across the distance between. It looked extremely peculiar, as if someone had put one of those strangely shaped mirrors in front of it all.
The chain's tip whipped right through one of the Vassicans, tearing him in two; two others were hit by the stretched-out chain itself, sending them flying over the edge as if thrown by a giant.
As Tarak saw the now lone Vassican agent stand in panic, trapped between burning death and hael knows what else, his frown deepened yet again, almost halfway to a scowl. That guy's going to get himself killed one way or another if we wait another second.[/color] He raised a weary arm - its motion considerably slowed - and let his voice out. "Capture him! Don't let him get away!"
As he started his legs again, weary to the bone, he prayed that the man would not simply run into his own doom before they could catch him.


(ooc: >:\ meeeh.....stop sweating the f-ing details! meat necklace!)

choco stared on. ' i can't just let them be, i need to go! and that magicial girl/guy/whatever looks drained......i'm gonna kick myself for this later....... choco proceeded to pick up a stone and throw it at the head of the nearest vassican. 'there! hopefully that'll help SOME........i should be getting something for this! >:'[ [/color]


Occupying one of the trees, which was the nearest to the battle-field, Airu was sitting unnoticeable for the Vassicans and trying to shoot down as many of them as she could and at the same time counting the remaining after each shot bullets.
â€œ136â€¦135â€¦134â€¦Damn mist, I canâ€™t even take an aim properlyâ€¦130â€¦129â€¦â€
But the counting was interrupted by the sight of one of the Vassican agents trapped in the middle of the hell caused by the battle and the magic mist. The agent stranded in this bloody mess with an air of abstraction. But after some seconds the panic appeared on this face.
â€œWhat the hell his is doing??â€
And at the same moment when with this thought appeared in her mind she heard Trakarâ€™s yell:
"Capture him! Don't let him get away!"
There wasnâ€™t need to repeat it twice. Without taking of the boa she pulled her wings out of her body and flied off the tree to capture the vassican before the death take him. Auri acted quickly: grabbing the men across his trunk she flied in the mist low enough to remain unnoticeable to the other vassicans although the magic of the mist burned her skin and wingâ€™s feathers. The man was astonished and kept silence before they landed behind huge boulders located at some distance from the battle.
â€œDemon!!â€ â€" cried the agent
She shoot at his armsâ€™ and legsâ€™ gristles. The man cried in pain and his eyes stared in panic to seach for the blood on his clothes but it didnâ€™t appear.
â€œThese wounds will keep you from running away. Donâ€™t move, it will only cause the pain,â€ â€" Auri turned her back to the vassican. â€" â€œAnd say THANKS to me that I didnâ€™t kill you for seeing THESE THINGSâ€
After that she examined her burnt feathers ("Damn it, it will take for about 3-4 days to grow the new ones!") and then made her wings  to disappear. Only after this Auri joined the battle again.

(occ: the speech of the NPC i will colour with brown.")
Wit beyond measure is man\'s greatest treasure^^
