Saviours Team A: IC

[Sønderjye]

It's a trap!

Up until now you have been primarily enjoying the world of Saviours. Everything feels so real and even the fact of exploring your own character in itself is interesting. Some of you have longer legs than you normally do and need a little practice in judging how long you need to move your muscles. Some of you are momentarily distracted by a different length of hair that allows for a different air flow. Some of you have different gendered attributes than you are accustomed to and that too takes a little time to adjust to. Overall though it seems like your new virtual body knows what it's doing however and if you trust it it seems like it's muscle memory goes a long way.
The quests are also interesting, quite varied in nature and it feels good when the NPC expresses their gratitude, if not the smiles then the gold.

At some point however you decide that you want to return to reality but then it hits you. How? Attempts to pull up a menu are failing and you are growing more and more conserned...

Devil's deal

The sound of bones cracking and muscles separationg as the Maria's head is separated from her body is surreal. Shivers ran down Nike's back. The fight had been onesided from the start even thogh it had been 10 against 1. If you could even call it a fight. The satyr-like devil had used some spell on them and Nike had been unable for the entirety of the fight, his thoughts simply not finding each other comprehensively enough that he could put them into actions. Two warriors had started screaming and attacked their own ranks and only two people, Maria and the old priest, Gammon, had had enough senses to proceed the attack. However as soon as the devil had summoned the pit fiends the fight had been done for. How in earth did he end up at this quest? Pit fiends are like level 20! The priests dismembered body lied to Nike's right. And now..

A chilling splat is head as Maria's headless body hits the ground and connects with the blood on the blackened iron floor. The devil turns his coal-coloured eyes towards the only standing member of the group, if only because his leg's had locket themself and rejected to listen to his commands. The devil spreads his wings out wide as if stretching before slowly walking over towards Nike. Halfway there he suddenly turns his head and stares back to where Maria's body was lying before. Following his gaze Nike sees that both Maria's head and body had gone, something that Nike remembers as being a sign that Maria had respawned. The bodies of the NPC's that accompanied them, however are still lying around..

The devil looks at your examinating, with renewed interest. From one movement to another he regains control of his limbs and his thoughts. "Who are you?" The devil's voice is heard. His voice suprisingly appealing. It gives you the impression that you might end up being good friends, if not for the longsword in his hand still soaked in Maria's blood. "I sense a craving for power in you but I do not sense why you wish it?"

White Walker

After character creation Morwel finds himself lying in thick grass. The green plant pokes his skin lightly and he hears the wind rastle the trees above him. Another sound is heard not too far to his right and when Morwel turns his head he spots a scarlet spider, way bigger than any spider he have ever seen before.

In a moment he finds himself on his feet, sword in hand. Wait, he had a sword? The iron is heavy but it feels as if his body is accustomed to the weight. Then the realization hits him. He's standing!
Murderer!
Variel sword pierces the flesh of the man. The feeling of metal cutting through flesh sends shivers down Variel's back. You hear his scream turn into a gargle as blood connects with his breath. He falls backwards and hits the floor with a crack that produces another blood-smothered scream. His eyes are wide open and his hands goes to his throat, clinching in panic as if he would be able to stop the wound if he pressed hard enough.

The boy that the man had been hitting is long gone and the pair are alone in the dark alleyway.
Night of the Harrowing
"A breather, here!" a voice is heard somewhere from the air. Mim looks around but can see nothing but tombstones in the dim light. Was walking alone into a graveyard at dawn during the night of the Harrowing really a good idea? Sure, the ancient tome had said that one could find power at this night between the dead but the instructions seemed less and less worth it.
"Does it wish to die?", another answers.
"So it seems", the first one answers.
More voices are heard, most of which sounds like they agree with the two first voices.
Then a new voice appears: "No! Watch closely. This one has the spark."
"Yes" and "Indeed" are heard from all over the place.
"What does a breather want here?", the first voice asks.


Outside the city gates

After an exhausting journey your group are finally standing outside the northern city gates of Angloa. It's not particularly windy today and the sun's touch on the skin is pleasantly warming. The smell however is dorminated by that of smelly bodies comming from the trail of mixed bodies, moving in and out of the city through copple-stoned road that goes right through the massive city gate.

Two towering sculptures flanks the city gate simultaneously bringing promises of protection to the law-abiding and punishment to the ones who break it. One human man that looks like he's off african decendance holding a spellbook, dressed in a wizard robe and with what looks like a small dragon on his, and one human man that looks like he's off asian decendance holding a greatsword and wearing full-plate.

You have finally arrived to your destination. What do you do?

[Feralgeist]

It's a trap!
Trevor hands out a batch of potions. "Good work guys, I leveled up. Time to go now though."
He tries to bring up the logout menu and frowns when nothing happens. "Come on.....Come on!"
The fighter in the party, BrutusElFrutus, frowns, his demeanor darkening. "If we can't log out that means we have to survive, so we can't be lugging around any dead weight." He looks at Mim.
DaveTheKnave, the party rogue, smiles cruelly and starts to advance on the little old lady. "It's nothing personal mate.....Just need them potions is all."
Mim raises her hands and starts to incant a spell when they both rush forward, Dave sinking his stiletto through her ribs and Brutus swinging his maul overhead.
Trevor opens his eyes at the respawn point and screams. Holy moly! That actually hurt! Gah....maybe I can logout now."He attempts to bring up the logout option menu again.
Mim trudges along cautiously, one hand on her components pouch, the other holding the leash for her goat familiar."My name is Mim, I am the one who seeks vengeance. Too many times have the living betrayed me, set back my goals. This is the last straw, they've taken my cauldron! Show me the dark paths, let me satiate my lust for revenge, help me get back the tool of my craft....In return I will build you an army, to carve your own niche in the world, augmented with dark potions. To show my sincerity I have brought this, my familiar, as a sacrifice.

Outside the city gates
While they wait in line to be seen by the gatekeepers Mim opens up her wagon and starts advertising her wares to the bored people in the queue. The silent orcs on the wagon gaze around vacantly while the bison remain stock-still.

[5ColouredWalker]

It's a Trap
"Hah, yea, good spar... Hey, I actually earned XP from that one!"
"Duh, bared steel. Also first one you actually won, now help me up."
Nike snorted as he helped Maria up with a quick heave. The Warlord class was well and truly broken... Seriously, a Cha based luck bonus that was boosted by Luck's Favoured? He'd have to keep an eye out for halfing warriors in the future.
"Ah, the alarm I set's going off. I have to go."
"Alas... Well, I'll see you around... Might as well log myself."
With that, Maria and Nike spent a few moments standing around looking like idiots while they waved their hands.
"Uh... Maria... Do you know where Montoya went?"




"I-uh-I..."
F*cking stupid fear effect's f*cking with my control-
"'ve been intersted uh-"
I mean, I could just tone it all the way down to talk kinda normally but if he's not- no, let's just check. If he's not I'm probably going to jam a my foot so far down my throat it comes out my a$$ anyway.
"-uh, PC dec-decleration, any chance you speak OOC?"
I tried and was pretty sure I was rather unsucsesful in keeping the wince off my face... Either he was going to be able to speak it, was going to forget it, or he was going to register it as me speaking silently, and either of the later two could make this much more annoying.




Outside the city gates
Nike rolls his eyes.
"Really Mim? You know setting up here will delay us getting into the city, and I'd like a decent room when we get in."
Nike finished his quick circle of the wagon before he leaned on a side near Mim scratching his jaw, stubble only just starting to come back from his last shave.

[kasperfage]

It's a trap!
After having fun for about a day Svend decides to try and log out, wouldn't want to stay in the game to long, the homework won't make itself.
But how?
After a while of flailing his arms, he tries voice activation, yelling "log out!" and "log out screen!" in random directions.
With all of this to no avail he rather disappoint and confused tries to look for another play and talk to them if they know how to log out.
After a while of asking around if people were players, he was met mainly with confused looks, properly not a player.. a few "i don't care, i haven't been here for long enough yet, i'm not leaving" and lastly a few players with the exact same issue, who couldn't get out either.


Murderer!
Variel stands there for quite a long while, just looking at the now dead man "Scum" he mumbles. He still however feels.. weird, it's not a feeling that he likes to much, even though there is something appealing to it. He is paralyzed for a while by the feeling, but the sensation, when he thinks of how justice has been fulfilled frees him. The kid left pretty quickly after Variel shouted at the man to stop, "Hope he's going to be okay.." he again mumbles to himself.
After standing there for about a minute he decides to wipe his sword in the mans clothes and get out of there, he might not regret his action, but there is no need to be caught for it, jail properly isn't fun in Saviours either.


Outside the city gates
"Mim, why do these orcs guard your wagon? they seem smart enough to shut up, so they wouldn't do it for a few coins would they?"
Variel stands in his spot in the line, moving his weight around on his feet to not become to soar. "I haven't seen Kingsley all day, i wonder why getting food is taking him so long" he thinks to himself.

[Feralgeist]

Outside the city gates

Mim undoes the leather straps holding up the canvas walls of her covered wagon, letting the sheets fall down and hiding the stacked crates of medicine, sunrods, tindertwigs and lamp oil.
"As you wish, I'd hate to delay us." she replies to Nike.

At Variels question Mims' green face breaks into a tusked grin.
"Well you see...Orcish matriarchs are nurturers of the clans, life-givers and stuff, yeah? I have....sustained these three thus far, between you and me they aren't that bright and don't speak common. They'd simply be lost without me."

[roll0]

[5ColouredWalker]

Nike remains perfectly passive as the oxdung rolls of Mim's tounge... Every now and again he remembers to ask her about taking over the selling with Mim just doing the making... He'd probably have to invest a rank in appraise though...
'Maybe I could reduce my riding skill and invest in a special saddle to make up for it... Probably also get some appraise items... Probably should anyway if I decide to go master blacksmith and adventurer.'
Nike shakes his head, and with one hand makes quick motions putting the thought in his journal, responding to Mim as she's finished her reply.
"Mhmm. That said Madamm, I'm hired on until at least the entry into the gates before we renegotiate, so if you'd really like feel free... That said, I've enjoyed being in the company of a PC."
Nike says the last words brazenly, trusting the Game's software to still be working enough to keep him being looked at weirdly by anyone who wasn't a PC themselves.

[Feralgeist]

Mim stops fussing over the wagon and turns, taking a small step closer and lowering her voice. "As have I, albeit vicariously. I'm afraid I simply have no more coin to offer you all. All I have to give is my crafting skills, everything I have is invested in my enterprise. I do everything from alchemical goods to potions, at cost for you three, seeing how helpful you've all been. I bring new products to town once a week. It's been simply wonderful traveling with some good honest folk for a change. If ever you need a special something, or some extra muscle on a quest..." She nods her head at the guards and Bisons. "Come and contact this shell, I'm sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." Mim idly scratches her robe-covered midriff and pulls her hood up as they get closer to the gate, getting onto her wagon and taking up the reins once the line has moved a bit.

Beneath the translucent image of the Orcish lady the frost covered orc skeleton reaches through its tattered robes that hang open at the front and into its ribcage where it begins nervously stroking a small doll made from scraps of grey fur with a shrunken goats head on top, frozen in place by the bloodied ice. The tiny eyes with their rectangular pupils dart this way and that, surveying the scene.

[Sønderjye]

It's a Trap!

Being killed was horrible. It had all the fear, pain and dread of actually dying, just without stopping afterwards.
Mim wakes up finding her body lying on a stone altar with noone in her immediate surroundings.

Night of the Harrowing

Through her empathic link Mim senses mostly fear from her familiar. It doesn't seem overly pleased with being where they are.

"Yes"
"Do we agree, brothers?"
"Yes"
"Indeed"
The spirits then instruct you to kill your familiar. Skin it, dig up bones from the human graves around, crush then and make a poppet from those materials. They guide you through the process and also comes with helpful advices such as:

"Go for the eyes!"
"It would more fun if you skinned it alive"
"Cut it by the legs so it can't run"



It's a Trap!

Maria shrugs in responds. She then tries to wave her hands in various pattern while trying different versions of "log out". Her face grows conserned.

Devil's Deal

The satyr-like being looks curious at your. "I'm not familiar with that language. Where is that spoken?"


Murderer!

Variel gets most of the blood of his sword and as he leaves he hears quick foot steps and clanking moving towards the alleyway. He escapes safely however.
Moreover the scent of blood lingers with him days after. The kid nowhere to be found.

Outside the City Gates

A few annoyed shouts are heard when Mim starts selling her things in the middle of the road.

Nobody seems to react on Nike's talk about players but whether that's due to some game software or because of the general noise is hard to say.

As you pass through the city gates only one of the guards seems to pay attention to the group while the others seem to be paying attention to other people in the mass of slowly moving bodies.

[5ColouredWalker]

It's a Trap
"Oh for the love of- Come on! Montoya chose a class that'd let him keep the starting helper familiar. Come on."

With that, Nike began running through the training areas of the arena, looking for Montoya and occasionally shouting his name.



Sh*t.
"Earth, Australia specifically. How-ever, I'm ah, pretty sure my inability to sp-speak those words is actually a cu-curse."
Nike slowly begins speaking more calmly as Erik tones down the fear interference.
"A-as to my interests I uh... Heard that there we-were... Skills, only de-devil's could tea-each... That's part of why I came he-here. I was planning on kee-keeping some of the documentation here to contact your ki-kind on my terms, bu-but i didn't realize I would be interrupting the plans of one a-as important as you."



The City Gates
Nike walks calmly alongside the wagon as the group enters the city, paying no particular attention to the guards, seemingly more focused on ensuring noone around him tries to stick their hands in his pockets or those of his companions.

[Feralgeist]

Okay Trev, don't panic. Where the heck is this place? This doesn't look like the place I came back to last time...
Mim gets up from the altar, clutching her ragged robes about her. "Hello?" She calls out. "Damn. must be some kind of tomb. Those potions took me a week! Wretched musclebound thugs..."She checks her pockets and finds her toad missing."I'll need to get a new familiar too. Dammit all!" She investigates the surroundings, trying to identify the place.

Mim kneels down with her half-finished grisly doll. She pulls a small blade out and cuts her finger, dripping crimson drops into the grave dirt until it is soft. She takes the knife and severs a lock of her hair, using it to stitch up the doll head. As the final stitch is pulled into place Mim feels a strange rending sensation inside herself, like something vital is being clawed at from her soul and siphoned off to those greedy spirits on the edge of her vision . A coldness spreads through her as the negative energy rushes out through the doll, the dark spirits replacing what they take with necromantic power. The spirits settle fully inside the doll, its rectangular-pupiled eyes begin to dart this way and that.

"Cozy in here, aren't we?"
"Yes we are."
"Room for one more, little witch. Bring us bodies, and we will show you a wonder."
"Yes, to the swamp! Where the nasty, rotting things lie."
"With all that delicious potential. Take us, little witch."
"Yesss, do it!"
Mim stands holding the doll, swaying a bit woozily. The air seems to shimmer and ripple in her vision in a radius around her like the shadows of the water in a large aquarium.
"The swamps? But what about my cauldron?"
"All good things in time. Delightful, tearing things."
"Yes but first you need power. Bodies. Crocodile bodies."
Mim tucks the doll into her robes and sets off back towards her wagon, the spirits cackling gleefully in the back of her mind. She sets herself on the seat and cracks the reins, heading off towards where the swamplands meet the River.

The city gates
As Mim and her entourage silently proceed through the gate, she hands the reins to the Orc next to her. "Move forward, avoid the living." She calls out softly to the Bison in Necril. Taking one glance at the guard watching them she stands and climbs back into the covered part of the wagon, muttering the words to a spell in Necril. "Bestow curse." Mim pulls one of her arms through her sleeve so it sits inside her robes, the spell charge sitting right next to the doll on her frost covered fingers. She returns to her seat and continues to direct the Bison as necessary, keeping one eye on their surroundings.

Casting bestow curse, holding the charge so I can deliver it at range if the jig is up. The curse is a phobia of Bison/Cattle. On any turn the victim can see a bovine creature they have a 50% chance of acting normally, a 50% chance of moving up to their speed away from said bovine(s)

[kasperfage]

The kid is clearly gone, shame, would've liked a name, or just something to find him at some point to see if he was going to be okay.
Variel heads off, no reason to linger.
since urban is one of my favorite terrains, i leave no tracks moving in it, unless i desire. i do not



The city gates

Variel walks behind the wagon, not paying attention to much else than Kingsley that just returned to him as they were entering the gates, the bird clearly well fed from whatever it caught on it's hunt.
"So where are we going first?" Variel asks in a happy tune, glad to be inside a city again for the first time in a while.

[Feralgeist]

Mim replies to Variel from the wagonseat. "I gotta unload, I have two destinations. One is an apothecary, the other is a dry goods & sundry store, so I guess the market district. You're all quite welcome to join me, or otherwise we can meet up somewhere after our dealings are done, if any of you have things you need to sort out. I haven't done much exploration into the city to be honest...anybody know a good tavern?" Inside her robe, beneath her ribcage mims' cold bony finger swirls with dark magic. A hair-thin needle of bloody frost forms at the end of the finger, poised just centimeters from the doll. She tries not to stare at the guard watching them as the bison plod along.