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> The Technconsortium Troll Open, Open(ish) RP
Dwilf
post Oct 13 2006, 03:05 PM
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OOC: This is the intro for a RP I'm considering running. I plan on it being a story heavy RP with decent length posts and a slow pace. PCs will preferably be Human, Dwarf, Elf or Gnome and they won't be members of the Guild(Technconsortium). If you are interested or want to comment reply, PM me or find me on IRC. If there is enough interest I'll work on fleshing out the plot and (NP)characters then kicking it off to allow PCs to be introduced.
Here goes...


Mistysprings was a two day boat trip through the swamp if your pilot knew the way. Boats that got lost could be gone for months, if they ever made it back to Mar'Vellis at all. The Technconsortium owned Mistysprings, a Guild Town named for the fact it was built in the middle of a mist-enshrouded freshwater lake deep in the swamps.

Floating circular platforms of varying size were connected by bridges and small boats. The wood was proofed against rot by alchemical means and most were riddled with various inventions to make life better. Farms, harb gardens, larger docks and visitor quarters were situated on these constructions. The solid land at the centre if the town was guild only residances and workshops. Security was tight and violators of guild law dealt with swiflty. The Technoconsortium considered itself the best collections of minds as far as many crafts went. Strict tests on ones mental faculties were required for even the lowest posts. Members of most races could try for membership but Gnomes held the majority. The guild retained a neutral stance and denied any alliance, they were too remote and useful for any power to contest this freedom. Their healing branch would treat anybody in need for the right price and they possesed some of the most advanced medicines, some rivaling even magical healing.

The town was beautiful in a gnomish sort of way, the distant shores of the lake blurred by the grently rolling mists. The Swamp Dweller's barge had docked on a Guild jetty, the supplies he had overseen in Mar'Vellis were already dissapearing into the guild storehouses. Booted feet tapped the dark treated wood of the floating docks as a Cog of Town Guard patroled the platform. Sixteen guards in uniforms of boiled leather armour made up a Town Guard Cog, the First Tooth in command with a Second to help or take over as the situation demanded. All sixteen teeth had powerfull crossbows of guild design and a short sword and shield for closer trouble.

The Swamp Dweller smilled at the gnome sent to meet him. Bushkie Shadowsproket was in her unmarked uniform of Flexi-Hide and fine chain. The suit caused minimum hinderance to movement and the treated hide and metal was very resistant to being cut through. It was coloured in dark greys and blues, the metal dulled so as not to reflect light. Many pouches were secured to a waist belt from which hung two tiny Dart Launchers. A spiked mace hung across her back and an assortment of blades ranging from long knives to razor-wire garrots were present about her person.
"Two days until the Open begins Swamp, we've already got reports of barges approaching with participants on board." chirped the gnome. "Come along for some dinner, Malcam will be pleased to see you."
Bushkie's voice was full of energy, mangaging to sound squeaky and mature at the same time. Swamp fell in beside her as they made thier way to the Guild Town.
"The visitor quarters will be very busy soon." he observed.
Bushkie grinned knowingly, the Open was a great annual troll hunt. Adventurers could make a name for themselves, the troll popualtion was cut back and the guild was able to fill thier labs with troll blood and other useful ingrediants obtianed from the regenerating beasts.

The Swamp Dweller was looking forward to catching up with Malcam, Bushkie's alchemist husband who as a high ranking Poison Brewer. They were are good match his two gnomish friends, Malcam's poisons were employed by many Dusk Cogs, the guilds scouts, spys and assiassins. Bushkie as First Tooth of her Dusk Cog, five other skilled individuals making up the team of six.
Swamp smiled at the thought, a Dusk Cog may have ten less teeth than a Town Guard Cog but it was by far the more deadly. So deceptive these gnomes.


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Dwilf
post Nov 4 2006, 11:15 AM
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The Swamp Dweller had been in Mistysprings for several days now, spending his free time with Bushkie ,Malcam and and other guild mates. The town was buzzing with activity as people prepared for the Troll Open.

The labs were contstantly brewing up all sorts of substances that were required by the guild or could be sold to participants. Armour and weapons were also in abundance, being improved, repaired or replaced by the diligent smiths.

Each day saw a decrease in the number of available lodgings for rent in the Visitor quarters. Ale flowed in the taverns as old friends got reaquanted, tales were told and rivalries flared. More than a few outsiders had spent some time in the stocks. These were situated near docks and main routes so all could see the consequences of breaching the relative peace too much. Cogs of Town Guards patrolled, merchants hawked their wares and all looked forward to the day the event would begin.

A small passenger transport boat was pulling into the dock of the Pitcher O' Peat tavern as an angry looking dwarf threw open the main door and stormed off down the street. An observant viewer on the boat might have also noted the sly looking man who slipped out to follow, creeping low the figure drew a short sword as he slipped around a corner. Now out of sight he pursued the dwarf who was heading to his rented accommodation in a nearby visitor building.

OOC: Right, people can introduce charaters now.


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joshpurple
post Nov 6 2006, 03:16 AM
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A 17 year old human, standing over six feet tall & skinny as a rail, watched as the boat came to port and the passengers moved onto the dock of the Pitcher O' Peat tavern. Nilrem had a youthful 'stubbly' beard, long messy brown hair, squinty eyes, and a long nose with a bump on it. Not a warrior type, and not the dashing lad, Nilrem was a great fan of magic.

Nilrem had been in Mistysprings only one day, but he had heard of the gnomes and their studies with magic here. Of course, he could not help but to see all of the activity surrounding the start of the Troll Open, he actually enjoyed seeing the excitement. His hope would be to find a gnome who might be able to teach him some magic. Nilrem had always enjoyed the gnomish sense of humor, and he believed gnomes would be the most open in teaching the arcane arts.

As the passengers exited the boat, Nilrem noticed one sly looking fellow drawing a weapon. Keeping his distance, and not saying a thing, Nilrem followed to see what was going on.


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Hankellin
post Nov 6 2006, 09:16 AM
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Howlin takes in the sights and sounds of the dock area. The two large troll hounds that are his charges wimper through their muzzles their whip thin tails rapidly moving back and forth in excitement.

Howlin runs his hand through the black hair on his head. He gives the dogs a whistle and gentle tug on thier leashes.
It won't be long now and I can make a name for myself with grand sire's hounds the trolls won't stand a chance

He steps off the barge and up to a likely looking worker.

"Where can I find lodging for myself and my hounds?"

The dock worker takes in Howlin and his pets.

"Ta Pitcher o' Peat har may have lodgin' ta suit ya. Jus' go on in." the man turns back to his job of inspecting the large bales of cloth being unloaded from an adjoining barge.


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Dwilf
post Dec 5 2006, 04:49 PM
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The dwarf knew he was being followed, revealing himself to them men in the tavern had ensured it. A grim smile creased his rough features as thoughts of vengance fueled the anger that has been simmering within his heart for almost a year now.
Instincts honed by years of battle alerted him to the attack from behind. He ripped his Dwarvish sword from his belt and flashed it around to bat aside the short sword that was lunging for his back moments before.
"You're to be first then ye cowardly mutt." he growled into the face of his assailant.
The man attacking him recovered from the unexpected parry and hopped back a few feet to compose himself for a face to face, his stance shifting to allow for defense.
The dwarf hefted his weapon into a two-handed grip and set his feet apart for stability. His weapon, a Dwarvish sword, was a cruel looking device. Brightly coloured feathers formed a fetish swaying from base of the leather wrapped hilt; five feet of steel reinforced dark wood made up the stock of the blade, razor sharp blocks of obsidian adorned the edges, dark teeth hungry for blood.
The man smirked at archaic looking sword in the dwarf's grip.
The dwarf tilted the blade forward and charged...

OOC - For Howlin. The Pitcher o' Peat is a standard tavern, serving wench, barkeep, cook, drunks. Off to the left of the bar is the accommodation office. In here you can rent anything from a single room by the night to a visitor apartment by the week or month. There is a common room where you can sleep for free at your own risk. Rooms and apartments have baths and breakfasts included in the deal.


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Pandra
post Dec 5 2006, 10:54 PM
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Pandra leaned against a pile of gawdy shawls stacked hap hazardly on a street venders table. The delicate looking pixie sniffed as she eyed the ancient looking shrew who'd been over charging on shoddy goods and had a generally sour disposition in general. The old hag deffinatly had a pox coming. Grinning broadly the pixie prankster blinked out of sight and the stack of shawls vanished with her.

Pandra counted to 18 loppatopimusses before the shrieking for the guards started. Three heart beats in the tiny pixie was winching and coving her ears wondering if she should have tried a diffrent prank on the old cheater. The old bat immediately began accusing everyone in eyesight of stealing her goods. Pandra briefly wished for a third hand to stiffle her giggles as her other two hands were still busy protecting her sensative ears.

The guards seems familiar with the old hag and were asking her if she'd checked behind her booth to see if the table had mearly been bumped. Pandra grinned and with a heave that launched her into the air sent the shawls tumbling. She hovered for a moment as the shawls returned to the mundainly visable spectrum then fluttered off giggling as the guards be admonising the old cot for rousing them over toppled shawls.

From her new vantage point Pandra spotted an unsavory looking fellow a group of girl. Unsure of the man's intent and not really caring she flicked off a quick pixie pos that soon had the man causing a scene and crying about being eatten alive by ants. Clapping happily for herself she began weaving a path through the crowded streets looking to correct 'miscreants' in the name of causing trouble. Unlike many over her pixie kin Pandra had figured out that if you targeted 'bad' people other people tended to asume the 'bad' person had it coming, karma being universial mistress and all, and thus no one raised any alarms. As long as no 'good' or 'innocent' people feel subject to a pixie pranking no one cried foul and a pixie could pox away to her hearts content.

Congratulaing herself as she was on her cleverness Pandra almost missed the faint sounds of combat. She paused for a moment listening, trying to discern if it was a back alley bar brawl or perhaps a robbery, but the crowd made too much of a dull roar for even her ear to be able to distern more than few clashes of metal on metal. She flew flitted down a back alley, skimming along roof gutters until she spied a dwarf facing off against a humanish looking man... it was hard to tell with the cloak exactly who the dwarf was fighting. It was even harder to discern who the 'bad' person was giving the vicious looking sword the drawf was carrying.

Pandra circled quietly above waiting to see if the cloaked suspicious looking person or the dwarf would be considered 'bad' in this instance and who she could get away with poxing.


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Hankellin
post Dec 27 2006, 06:16 AM
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Howlin, with the two hounds in tow, walks up to the entrance of the Inn.

Before he could push the doors open and enter, the hounds tear from his grasp and race around the corner or the building.

Howlin takes of after them and catches up just as the two, muzzled and leashes flapping, slam into a pair of fighting men.

Howlin gives a loud whistle and yell and the hounds immediately stop trying to take both men down and return to their master. One is fast enough to exit the fray, but the other is not so fast.
A thud of a weapon hitting flesh is heard and the dog gives a muffled cough and spews blood from it's jaws, dropping dead, it's chest cloven open.


"No! No! No!" Howlin screams seeing his bright dream crash down as quickly as the hounds blood stains the boards beneath it.

With a quick flick of his hand he tears the muzzle off the remaining hound.

"Tötung!!!*" Howlin yells pointing at the human as a first target. Howlin pulls two slim knives from the tops of his boots and follows the hound in to try and kill the man.


( Kill* Translated to German courtesy of http://babelfish.yahoo.com/ )


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Dwilf
post Jan 14 2007, 03:55 PM
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Recovering from the hounds charge the dwarf regains his feet and takes in the new situation.

One hound is down in an expanding pool of its own blood, the same blood that stains the sword of his adversary.
"Tötung!!!"
His head snaps around to the emotional bellow to see another man, the master of the hounds, draw two blades from his boots and close fast behind his remaining hound to engage the killer.
The dwarf re-slings his unbloodied weapon and turns to walk away, leaving vengeance to the hound and its master this night.
The rest of the killer's group of murderers would face his retribution in just over a week, out in the swamps.

The sounds of fighting had drawn other eyes. Unseen, Bushkie watched the fight proceed wondering if the newcomer and his surviving hound would pose a problem. At least the attempt on Tenoch, the dwarf, had failed without her revealing herself to him.


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