Post by Deleted on Jul 2, 2015 2:00:28 GMT
Time, time is an insidious weed.
Its roots dig into every corner, every crevice of the planets history, taking everything in due time.
Times roots have a way though, of pushing events together or apart so conveniently, as they did on that night.
Five figures, of many backgrounds, and for many reasons, happened to meet, waiting for the mourning carriage to appear out of the bleak, shadowy forest, to whisk them off to their new life.
With a sudden screech, the metal contraption appeared, full speed out of the forest,which almost seemed to reach to try and grab it.
An armored carriage, hastily made of metal plates, bolts and weld marks randomly placed all over the thing. Even the drivers position was armored, with armored horses connected by large iron chains.
This was not what was expected.
The doors to the thing flung open, an older, scrawny man looking bleakly out at the five fresh recruits, as towns people loaded the back of the contraption up with their belongings and supplies ordered by Settletown.
A quick, soft conversation and an exchange of coins, and the towns people scattered, like dust, gone.
“You folk here for the job? Get in, its going to be a long, bumpy ride.” the old man said sternly, turning away before a reply could ever be uttered.
One by one, each with different amounts and types of hesitation, the five figures enter into the darkness of the metal carriage, not unlike a tomb.
The last one shuts the door, and the driver starts the carriage before anyone is even fully situated.
Three days. Three days of darkness, the carriage going as fast as it can into the infernal forest. Noises, noises louder then the horses hooves or the squeaking of the metal carriage, assaulted the passengers ears no matter the time of day.
Only when the horses must rest, did the carriage ever stop, was there ever a moment to relieve ones self, to taste fresh air, or see in what light dwindled down from the leaves above.
Always armed, told by the carriage driver never to let their guard down, never to wander off the road, for the road was dangerous enough.
The fourth and a half day.
That is when things went wrong.
A thud, a whine, a curse most appropriate from your chauffeur.
The carriage came to a jarring, skidding halt, barely avoiding a topple.
Quite, but for the sound of footsteps, the rustling of branches, and a few neighs of distress.
“we know your fucking in there! Come out, no weapons, or well shoot the rest of the horses, barricade those doors, and have us a nice little roast!”
quietly, your driver says “ill go out, be prepared to burst out when I say 'fuck you', or if they kill me.'” not giving his guests a moment to respond, he pops open the drivers door at the front of the carriage, and steps out.
“im alone, much more so now that you've killed my horse.”
“bullshit, now open the goddamned side door or well put a bolt between your eyes!”
“....fuck you.”
suddenly, in an instant, the drive is beside you, a bolt smashing just an inch from where his head once was.
The door, suddenly open, letting in the evening light, hands pushing you, one after the other, out into the open, as the carriage driver curses his old muscles.
With only a moment to react, the five figures, weapons as ready as they could get them, prepare to defend their lives.
<><>
Milo Buchkeller, first out, shield raised, barely keeps his footing as it impacts soft mud, skidding an full foot before he catches himself, shield barely catching a bolt that would've otherwise pierced his neck.
Quickly, he takes in his surroundings, a man hurriedly reloading a crossbow in front of him,to the left side of the carriage, lightly armored. In front of him, a leathery brute, armed with a war axes starts lifting it, ad he steps closer to Milo, only a few feet of distance between the two.
<><>
Through luck or misfortune, She who walks with Thunder.... AKA Thunder is forced out second, slipping in the mud, she ends up with her back nearly against her comrade, Milo was it?
Gun held in by the barrel in one hand, other catching herself in them mud, she looks out before her.
Two men, right of the carriage, one in rusted full plate, armed with a axe in one hand and a dagger in the other, attempting to make his way through the mud a good few feet away, but his weight seems to be keeping him stuck in the deeper parts.
The other, trembling, attempting to aim an old looking musket. He hasn't even cocked it, he is clearly new to this business, as he isn't stanced right and is much closer then he needs to be.
Before Thunder can react however, she is bumped fully into the mud, losing her stance, as another teamate slams into her.
<><>
Sorelia Corso is third out, having not exactly been paying enough attention, and completely loses her balance, slamming into the ones called Thunder, sending both into the mud.
As she looks up however, she sees the one called Milo hold his shield up, as someone she can only see the legs of starts running at him.
Before she can do anything though, she is suddenly whisked onto her feet by someone and hazily set down, where she regains her balance, now seeing the man charging has a big war axe.
<><>
Fourth out is Garth Bocan, sliding elegantly across the mud ,pulling Sorelia, if he remembered her name correctly, up onto her feet, as he came to a halt.
Smiling, he took in the moment in front of him. A man was close to bringing an axe down on another of his comrades shields, and a man further back then that was almost done loading a crossbow.
<><>
Last out is Tribune Iulius Praetorius, who with no real weight actually pushing against him, lands firmly in front of the carriage door, weapon ready.
To the left he sees his comrade Buchkeller shielding against a lightly armored man with a big war axe, and a man behind that nearly halfway done reloading a crossbow.
To the right he sees a man in rusted plate stuck in the mud, and a man shaking as he aims a musket at the group of his comrades more in front of him.
One is attempting to pick themselves out of the mud, while the other seems to have just recently been helped up by the fellow he recalls is named Garth.
<><>
Readiness Order:
1)Leathery highwayman with axe, Milo, Garth, and Tribune are tied.
2) the Crossbow man
3) Sorelia
4)Thunder
5) nervous gunman
6)stuck knight
Supply and Gear:
- 4 Food Rations
-1 Gallon of Water
<><>
(GM Notes: Readiness order can be changed depending on the actions of those coming first, or if serious injury or death occurs. each "turn" is also in real time, and this isn't a RPG, so even if you're "first" or "above" your opponent, they are still moving and will still attempt to block and counter attack, it merely means your faster due to a number of reasons, and thus get to "choose" the flow of the battle more. hope this explanation was satisfactory!)
Its roots dig into every corner, every crevice of the planets history, taking everything in due time.
Times roots have a way though, of pushing events together or apart so conveniently, as they did on that night.
Five figures, of many backgrounds, and for many reasons, happened to meet, waiting for the mourning carriage to appear out of the bleak, shadowy forest, to whisk them off to their new life.
With a sudden screech, the metal contraption appeared, full speed out of the forest,which almost seemed to reach to try and grab it.
An armored carriage, hastily made of metal plates, bolts and weld marks randomly placed all over the thing. Even the drivers position was armored, with armored horses connected by large iron chains.
This was not what was expected.
The doors to the thing flung open, an older, scrawny man looking bleakly out at the five fresh recruits, as towns people loaded the back of the contraption up with their belongings and supplies ordered by Settletown.
A quick, soft conversation and an exchange of coins, and the towns people scattered, like dust, gone.
“You folk here for the job? Get in, its going to be a long, bumpy ride.” the old man said sternly, turning away before a reply could ever be uttered.
One by one, each with different amounts and types of hesitation, the five figures enter into the darkness of the metal carriage, not unlike a tomb.
The last one shuts the door, and the driver starts the carriage before anyone is even fully situated.
Three days. Three days of darkness, the carriage going as fast as it can into the infernal forest. Noises, noises louder then the horses hooves or the squeaking of the metal carriage, assaulted the passengers ears no matter the time of day.
Only when the horses must rest, did the carriage ever stop, was there ever a moment to relieve ones self, to taste fresh air, or see in what light dwindled down from the leaves above.
Always armed, told by the carriage driver never to let their guard down, never to wander off the road, for the road was dangerous enough.
The fourth and a half day.
That is when things went wrong.
A thud, a whine, a curse most appropriate from your chauffeur.
The carriage came to a jarring, skidding halt, barely avoiding a topple.
Quite, but for the sound of footsteps, the rustling of branches, and a few neighs of distress.
“we know your fucking in there! Come out, no weapons, or well shoot the rest of the horses, barricade those doors, and have us a nice little roast!”
quietly, your driver says “ill go out, be prepared to burst out when I say 'fuck you', or if they kill me.'” not giving his guests a moment to respond, he pops open the drivers door at the front of the carriage, and steps out.
“im alone, much more so now that you've killed my horse.”
“bullshit, now open the goddamned side door or well put a bolt between your eyes!”
“....fuck you.”
suddenly, in an instant, the drive is beside you, a bolt smashing just an inch from where his head once was.
The door, suddenly open, letting in the evening light, hands pushing you, one after the other, out into the open, as the carriage driver curses his old muscles.
With only a moment to react, the five figures, weapons as ready as they could get them, prepare to defend their lives.
<><>
Milo Buchkeller, first out, shield raised, barely keeps his footing as it impacts soft mud, skidding an full foot before he catches himself, shield barely catching a bolt that would've otherwise pierced his neck.
Quickly, he takes in his surroundings, a man hurriedly reloading a crossbow in front of him,to the left side of the carriage, lightly armored. In front of him, a leathery brute, armed with a war axes starts lifting it, ad he steps closer to Milo, only a few feet of distance between the two.
<><>
Through luck or misfortune, She who walks with Thunder.... AKA Thunder is forced out second, slipping in the mud, she ends up with her back nearly against her comrade, Milo was it?
Gun held in by the barrel in one hand, other catching herself in them mud, she looks out before her.
Two men, right of the carriage, one in rusted full plate, armed with a axe in one hand and a dagger in the other, attempting to make his way through the mud a good few feet away, but his weight seems to be keeping him stuck in the deeper parts.
The other, trembling, attempting to aim an old looking musket. He hasn't even cocked it, he is clearly new to this business, as he isn't stanced right and is much closer then he needs to be.
Before Thunder can react however, she is bumped fully into the mud, losing her stance, as another teamate slams into her.
<><>
Sorelia Corso is third out, having not exactly been paying enough attention, and completely loses her balance, slamming into the ones called Thunder, sending both into the mud.
As she looks up however, she sees the one called Milo hold his shield up, as someone she can only see the legs of starts running at him.
Before she can do anything though, she is suddenly whisked onto her feet by someone and hazily set down, where she regains her balance, now seeing the man charging has a big war axe.
<><>
Fourth out is Garth Bocan, sliding elegantly across the mud ,pulling Sorelia, if he remembered her name correctly, up onto her feet, as he came to a halt.
Smiling, he took in the moment in front of him. A man was close to bringing an axe down on another of his comrades shields, and a man further back then that was almost done loading a crossbow.
<><>
Last out is Tribune Iulius Praetorius, who with no real weight actually pushing against him, lands firmly in front of the carriage door, weapon ready.
To the left he sees his comrade Buchkeller shielding against a lightly armored man with a big war axe, and a man behind that nearly halfway done reloading a crossbow.
To the right he sees a man in rusted plate stuck in the mud, and a man shaking as he aims a musket at the group of his comrades more in front of him.
One is attempting to pick themselves out of the mud, while the other seems to have just recently been helped up by the fellow he recalls is named Garth.
<><>
Readiness Order:
1)Leathery highwayman with axe, Milo, Garth, and Tribune are tied.
2) the Crossbow man
3) Sorelia
4)Thunder
5) nervous gunman
6)stuck knight
Supply and Gear:
- 4 Food Rations
-1 Gallon of Water
<><>
(GM Notes: Readiness order can be changed depending on the actions of those coming first, or if serious injury or death occurs. each "turn" is also in real time, and this isn't a RPG, so even if you're "first" or "above" your opponent, they are still moving and will still attempt to block and counter attack, it merely means your faster due to a number of reasons, and thus get to "choose" the flow of the battle more. hope this explanation was satisfactory!)