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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 23, 2023 12:12:23 GMT -5
The frigid north impressed no change of clothing on Sylvari, clad as was her customer in her darkened plate mail over a simple tunic and breeches. While she would like to say that the cold bore no lordship over her by virtue of the fiery justice that smoldered within her breast, the truth was both simpler and more fantastic. What need for warmth did a body have when it was already dead? The justiciar was a walking contribution a monument to the hubris of whatever fates led her down her wandering path. She wore the heaviest plate, yet her heart was broken and vulnerable. She was the elect of a celestial yet practiced magic, dark and terrible, born of her cursed bloodline as a vampire. She lived for justice, but had died to everything else, in more ways than one... Such philosophical quagmires were not Sylvari's concern today, however. She had arrived in the Pale City in response to a call for help in breaking up the frosted-over port, courtesy of a particularly destructive dragon. She had not been amongst the heroes that dueled the mighty beast, but Sylvari figured she had more than made up for her absence in all her effort to remedy the ails caused by his slaying. This venture was just the latest in a growing string of problems for the common folk that the climactic battle had caused. For as lofty as its cause was, the dispensation of the troubling obstacle was given no particular gravitas. Sylvari was merely given a pick, which she refused, and a general area to begin. As the vampiress reached the indicated destination, her customary half veil fluttering slightly in the light breeze of the crisp morning, she flexed her hand, summoning her slung warhammer immediately to her hand, eager to serve its mistress' will [Spell Blade, Always There]. The massive implement, paired with her considerable skill and strength [Bull's Strength Tattoo], borne of her condition, made such rout work a fairly easy endeavor. If she were to ply her talents to their maximum effect, she would no doubt finish her assigned task in a quarter of the time or less than a standard worker, but the justiciar had no desire to demean the honest effort of common folk with an arrogant display of her power. Instead, she worked with restraint and diligence, matching the pace of her fellows, always quick to offer an encouraging word. Sylvari noticed that the space to her left, similar in scope to her own large area, was as of yet empty. Sylvari wondered if a new shift of several workers was to come later to address it. Quest Name: Break the Ice
Participants: Two or more
Location: Frost Gale (Pale City)
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: Despite the absence of Vulcadreaus, the world is still feeling his effects. The weather patterns around Charon have become unbalanced, with most weather across the continent becoming more extreme than normal. With winter quickly approaching, the ice, snow and frost in the north have become more dangerous. The ports around the Pale City have frozen over, months earlier than normal. In order to keep trade and commerce flowing, the city is asking for help in breaking the ice and freeing the harbors. This includes warming the ice, breaking it into smaller pieces, and removing in from the city.
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Dec 24, 2023 9:44:59 GMT -5
“Are you sure you should be moving so soon after the fight?”
“I’m fine. Work keeps me busy.”
Ak’ka leveled a terse glare at the large snake trailin’ behind her - wasn’t really possible for snakes to look worried, but somehow Keiga was managing it right now. She stopped, lettin’ the tidal serpent slither across the dock’s wooden planks before making his way up her shoulders to burrow his head in her fur. Keiga normally wasn’t this big of a worrywart, and she was tryin’ not to let it get on her nerves. Then again, Ak’ka normally wasn’t on her feet again only days after a dragon attacked the Pale City.
The hulking half-orc had been part of the group takin’ care of the rampaging dragon. What she couldn’t do to kill the bastard with her bare hands, she’d made up for in savin’ innocents and keepin’ the city from falling apart. It was the duty of the strong to protect the weak, and by the damned gods in their graves, Ak’ka the Bonegrinder was powerful enough to do so - even if it meant guardin’ people who’d never given a damn about her. So she did all she knew how to do, the lessons her old man’d instilled in her since before she was even old enough to properly hold a weapon. Move till you can’t move no more. She fought, scraped, and struggled, just to give folks a chance to escape the danger zone. And then a building fell on her head.
Probably wasn’t the smartest idea to be up and at it after spending nearly a day comatose from injuries, but Ak’ka didn’t do well with sittin’ and waiting to heal. There was work to be done. The dragon froze pretty much the entire port with its breath, leaving the ships frozen still. No movement, no trade, no money. The city was fucked if they didn’t fix the problem. Unfortunately, there weren’t many folks willing to risk getting plunged into frozen waters. Which left Ak’ka to roll her sleeves up and start crackin’.
Least, she was tryin’ to, if it weren’t for Keiga bein’ a mother hen, and other volunteers keepin’ their distance from her ‘cus they feared her weight disruptin’ the ice. She was fine. Ak’ka’d grown up in Frostgale’s violent winters, knew the ice almost as well as she knew the mountains. There was a song to the way it cracked - a rhythm to knowin’ when you were standin’ on thick ice or thin ice. And there was a dance to hoppin’ back to solid surface as quickly as possible. Thankfully, the docs weren’t too far away, which meant if anyone fucked up Ak’ka could reasonably carry four or five people with her. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
The overseer offered her a pick right before she stepped off the dock and onto the ice - Ak’ka declined, wavin’ a hand in his face. “Nah. I don’t need any of that shit.”
The man stammered - torn between pointing out the obvious, bein’ that she didn’t have a single weapon strapped to her, or keeping his mouth shut. Eventually, concern won. “Begging your pardon, miss, but what will you use if you don’t have anything to work with?”
Ak’ka cracked her knuckles. “These.”
She didn’t wait for his reaction before steppin’ out into the field proper.
She had to admit - the damage looked pretty bad. The ice extended far enough that the ships couldn’t simply back up and break it themselves, and thick enough that it wouldn’t melt after a half-day in the sun. A few volunteers were bundled in thick furs (which Ak’ka had also foregone), chunking away at the ice with picks. A few sung songs together under their breath. Dwarven work tunes that quieted as she passed, like they feared wakin’ the slumbering beast. Ak’ka ignored them and found the first empty spot she could. Some young lass was workin’ next to her, gettin’ a rhythm going with a nasty lookin’ warhammer in her hands. Ak’ka grunted, exhaling a puff of cold air, as she nodded at the lady in silent greeting.
May as well be polite. No reason to make folks fear her more than they already did.
Then she reached down, pried a chunk of ice off the ground, and crushed it to powder with her bare hands.[1]
It was time to get to work. 1. Bull’s Strength Tattoo, Heavy Enchantment (Bare Hands)
Passives Necklace of Animal Speech Bull’s Strength Frozen Solid
Bringing Pets Keiga (Tidal Serpent - counts against Pet NPC cap)
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Dec 26, 2023 12:45:15 GMT -5
Sylvari couldn't help but quirk a brow as she looked over to find a massive orcish woman take up residence beside her, greet her with an amicable nod of introduction, and began slamming her fists into the ice. To her credit, the woman's heavy swings were making headway into the packed frost, speaking to her formidable strength to be able to impact the ice sufficiently over the expanse of her wide fists, rather than concentrated on the smaller points of the miner's picks, or even the head of Sylvari's warhammer.
Sylvari decided to venture for a bit of friendly banter to see if she could pick the woman's brain about her obviously successful training. Ok first step: start with small talk, preferably a light joke to break the ice... pun notwithstanding. Romarii's rules were engraved into the corners of the justiciar's mind nearly as deeply as her divine mandate at this point. Sylvari let out a light chuckle as she regarded her new companion.
"And here I thought this would be an all day endeavor. With your assistance, we can all get done in time for a hot lunch to warm us up!" Sylvari smiled brightly and extended an armored hand to the woman. "Sylvari Dawnsage, a pleasure, miss."
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Jan 7, 2024 12:43:07 GMT -5
The Bonegrinder wasn’t really expectin’ any interruptions… she was a merc through and through, where the mentality was usually shut up, keep yer head down, work, get paid. Not to mention the best way to avoid any spurned expectations was to not have any in the first place. She wasn’t gonna wait for people to talk to her when they were clearly afraid of her.
So it was a bit of a surprise to hear an unfamiliar voice callin’ out to her.
“You talkin’ to me?”
Ak’ka straightened; dropped the chunks of cold ice in her hands to the floor and pulled herself to her full height. Ten feet of pure, coiled muscle and brawn, littered with tattoos and scars that told a story, but not in a language the world would understand. Ancient orcish runes and tribal animal symbols. On the off chance Sylvari was studied in tribal ways, she’d recognize the language of the ink easily. The mark of a leader.
She was surprised to see the little dainty armored woman next to her, not an ounce of fear or hesitancy in her voice as she held a gauntleted arm out. Even buried under all that heavy armor Ak’ka could spot a warrior when she saw one. It was in the pride she held herself with and the well cared-for weapon she used. She talked real fancy, and that, combined with her short stature, reminded Ak’ka of Ein. The thought of her friend lowered Ak’ka’s guard somewhat. She grinned, revealing a mouthful of tusks and teeth.
“Sometimes ya gotta work hard to play hard, and I intend to work hard.” Her grip was ironclad in the lady’s - Sylvari’s - hand. Even without any armor of her own to speak of. Her fists had been forged outta ice and bone and they were every bit as firm. “Sylvari, eh? Pretty name for a pretty gal. Friends call me Ak’ka. Enemies call me the Bonegrinder - or at least they do when they’re not screamin’ in agony. But you can call me by the first.”
Handshake done, Ak’ka bent down to pick up another chunk of ice and crush it between her hands. Keiga kept his eyes trained on the newcomer - battle weary but not immediately distrustful. If the knight had any ill intentions Ak’ka could probably just punt her in the ice. But she seemed pretty chill. Minding the pun.
“You ain’t no slouch yourself.” She commented, gesturing towards the pretty fancy weapon the lady wielded. “Pretty shiny thing you got there. You from one of them knightly orders?”
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Jan 8, 2024 13:49:58 GMT -5
Now with the opportunity to look at the woman more fully, given that propriety had been observed, Sylvari noticed the tribal markings that covered the giantess' body. She didn't quite understand the significance of the particular markings, but they were distantly reminiscent of her own clan's tattoos of battle that the elder justiciars sported, sending a pang of homesickness through her heart.
Sylvari's lips curled into a wry smile, pleased at the wit of the orcish woman's words implying her implied celebrations, and the compliment she offered. She let out a slight giggle at Ak'ka's unorthodox introduction, watching as she crushed the ice between her solid hands.
"Well, granted, I may be a touch more resilient than ice, but I appreciate the opportunity never to have to find out how much more resilient I am at your hands. I'm happy to meet you, Ak'ka." Sylvari smiled warmly at the woman, not seeming frightened or off-put in the least by the size differential or obvious strength of the towering woman. Given Sylvari's growing menagerie of eclectic friends, Ak'ka wasn't even amongst the most intimidating, given her friendly banter.
The justiciar hefted her mighty warhammer at its mention twirling it and appreciating how it caught the morning light. "A dear friend made it for me. Much better than the glorified stick I used to swing around." Sylvari chuckled again at Ak'ka's supposition of her origin.
"In a manner of speaking, perhaps. I am a justiciar hailing from the Crescent Isles. I am on a holy mission of justice to right the imbalances of the world: protecting the meek and righteous and bringing to task those who would subvert order's strictures." Sylvari pressed an armored finger to her lips. "Well, I suppose that's not quite the right way to put my life's calling. I am justice's avatar on the mortal plane, and I have dedicated my life to being a worthy inheritor of carrying out this noble purpose." Giving a firm nod of affirmation, the justiciar seemed much happier with this explanation.
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Jan 16, 2024 14:50:09 GMT -5
Ak’ka grunted, a quiet reply to Sylvari’s giggle and the assertion that she was stronger than ice. She seemed pretty unabashedly afraid of the orc - a stark cry from most folks that she met south of the mountains. Orc folk weren’t so common, but the world had been seven levels of fucked up for a damn long time; scarier monsters and even scarier humans were on every street corner. Still, Sylvari didn’t seem especially phased. It had… been happenin’ a lot more lately. Maybe she was losin’ her touch.
“Don’t worry. Don’t steal my shit or take my da’s name in vain and we’ll get along great.” Ak’ka laughed, brushing chips of ice on her skirt. “Nice to meet ya too, Sylvari.“
Sylvari then lifted and twirled the heavy hammer in her hands with surprising ease given her tiny stature. Ak’ka’s brows rose to her hairline at the sight, “Those are pretty fancy moves.” She noted, pretty damn impressed. She wasn’t the kind to use weapons, not when most broke in her hands when she put a little force on ‘em. Besides, when nothing was your weapon, the whole world became your weapon. Much easier to use the environment to your advantage that way. In her opinion, the person made the weapon, not the other way around, but, hey. Different strokes for different folks. Besides, Sylvari was obviously trained, and pretty deadly with that thing. Ak’ka knew a warrior when she saw one.
“Pretty nice. A weapon with meaning behind it. And perfect for smashing ice with.”
Like she suspected, Sylvari did come from some kinda knightly order - not some organization like the Knights of Duros, but… a religious group, from the sound of it. Justice and righteousness were pretty lofty ideals. And what the hell was an Avatar of Justice? The half-Orc merc didn’t really understand, but she guessed it didn’t matter. What was most important was that Sylvari had her creed.
Most folks thought strength came from muscle and training. And it did - but ya didn’t get none of that if ya didn’t have the passion behind it. In the heat of battle, when all cards were on the table, it was what ya fought for that kept you alive.
It had for her.
“Justice? That’s pretty damn respectable. Not many folks willin’ just to do good for the good of it.” Ak’ka shrugged. “And Crescent Isles is a pretty long way’s down south… you sure you can kick it with the big dogs? The north is pretty brutal.” There was a bit of a competitive gleam in her eyes - a challenge.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Jan 16, 2024 17:28:50 GMT -5
Sylvari grinned wryly at the orcish woman's implied challenge, her competitive spirit coming to bare as it rarely ever did, with the justiciar so focused on the weak.
"For better or worse, I've found myself in Frost Gale more often than the other regions. It's a difficult area to survive in for most folks, and I daresay more than a few of the other nations' denizens would perish if they were thrust into its icy depths. My father used to say that hard lands bred hard people, which is why we never settled down to rooted life, in order to keep us lean and sharp."
Sylvari smiled, a dangerous sort of emotion displayed even on the lower half of her face that was visible. To many, her fierce expression may have been seen as a threat that carried the requisite danger. Sylvari wager that her new friend, however, would see her grin for what it was: a challenge accepted, one apex predator to another.
"I suppose it's time to see if the old man was right. Care to make a wager, my warrior friend? I do so want to live up to your expectations of surviving the brutal north. Something tells me your respect will be as useful as shelter or liquid water up here."
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Jan 29, 2024 8:02:46 GMT -5
“Your old man and my old man would get along swell.” Ak’ka let out a surprised laugh. She could probably search through her memories and find her da sayin’ the exact same shit about living in the World’s Crown, where food was often scarce and orckin resorted to raiding, pillaging, and stealing from one another to survive.
Sylvari’s face turned delighted then, a fire blazing in her eyes Ak’ka was intimately familiar with. The half-Orc leaned forward in interest as the knight started talkin’ - and boy, was that a language the merc knew like the back of her hand.
The language of warriors.
“Oh?” Ak’ka shifted her weight from foot to foot, thick brow rising - even Keiga perked up at the prospect of adding a little something extra to this job. Her lips split into a grin that could only be described as feral, an answer to her question. Though there’d not been any fighting yet, the two had obviously targeted the other as the strongest in the crowd.
Why not take the chance to test their mettle? Sylvari wasn’t wrong, either. Ak’ka ran with no merc group but mention the Bonegrinder to any sellsword in Frostgale and they’d know to back the fuck off. Nobody messes with me and mine.
Not to mention Ak’ka was curious to know what Sylvari’s respect looked like, too. She wasn’t from around here but she handled the cold like she’d been slingin’ ice her entire life; she was short statured but wielded that big fuckoff weapon with the strength of ten men. Ak’ka wanted to know what she was capable of. No better way to do so than… well, she enjoyed a good ole’ fashioned brawl, but there was nothing quite like competition to get the blood pumping.
“Now yer talkin’!” Ak’ka smacked Sylvari on the shoulder with considerable force. “Wager, huh? How’sabout this.” She scanned the field, where folks were still plunkin’ away at the ice in an attempt to free the ships. “Let’s see some speed and drive. Whoever can clear the most ice ‘til the deed is done wins. You can use whatever ya like to get the job done, ‘xcept for other folks.”
Mighta seemed like a given, but from Ak’ka, it was spoken with all the seriousness of someone who’d used people as weapons before.
“Sound good? Just a bit of nice clean fun.” And this time it wouldn’t do no harm… hopefully. Ak’ka was choosin’ to ignore that the last time she said that about a bit of fun, a tavern burnt down. She crossed her arms, already alight with anticipation - but she’d wait for Sylvari’s answer fair and square before jumpin’ into the fray.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Jan 29, 2024 16:18:50 GMT -5
Sylvari smiled impishly at Ak'ka's proposed rules for their challenge. "Use whatever I'd like? You've probably got me beat in the pure brawn department, it's true, but I've got a veritable workforce on call..."
Sylvari's confident smirk eased into a kind smile. "That's not very sporting, though, so I'll avoid resorting to that until you begin to beat me handily. Alright, then, I accept your terms, Ak'ka Bonegrinder. May the best woman win."
Nodding over to her companion, Sylvari waited until Ak'ka was in position to begin, a silent glance between the warrior women all that was needed to begin the contest in earnest. Sylvari's hammer came down time after time, resounding gongs across the frozen surface [Heavy Enchantment], as she skated across the gathered ice with grace [Frozen Feet] while weakening the ice at key intervals to undermine its structural integrity. As a master of the sea domain, Sylvari was well-acquainted with the exact brittleness of ice, having to rely on its deceptive strength to save her life more than a few times.
Sylvari desired to look across the way to see how her new friend and newer rival was faring with the challenge but dared not slow her pace even for that minor inconvenience. The justiciar had survived this long by never taking chances and always erring on the side of overestimating her opponents. From appearances alone, the massive orcish woman could have this whole bay cleared in a week by herself.
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Feb 5, 2024 7:46:02 GMT -5
Yeah, Ak’ka wasn’t fooled by the demure dame act. Sylvari was prim and proper but she sure as hell had power hidden up her sleeve that she was hidin’. Ak’ka huffed out a laugh and crossed her arms, shakin’ her head. “Yeah, we’ll see about that. I bet you’ll give me a run for my money. Anything goes, so long as it’s from the strength of your own power or magic. Go ahead and throw yer servants at me, I bet I could take ‘em, too.”
From anyone else, it might’a been mistaken for arrogance. But Ak’ka was twice as tall as most folk, and she had twice the breadth. Even if Sylvari proved to hold more manpower, she more than made up for it in sheer size. She nodded, anticipation humming in her veins. She sure as hell was lookin’ forward to a good, clean fight.
“May the best woman win.”
And she intended to.
Fair was fair - she nudged Keiga off her shoulders, takin’ a position in front of her portion of the ice, and once they were both ready, she raised her arms and brought them down on the ice.[1,2] Her fists were like hammers against the thick surface, crackin’ through thick sheets like they were paper. A quick glance over at her opponent told her that Sylvari was flittin’ across the frozen surface like a fuckin’ ice fairy, graceful and powerful - her strategy seemed to be to hit weak points, creating a spiderweb of imperfections to better smash through them.
Wasn’t a bad idea. Ak’ka much preferred to force her way through things when they weren’t open. Sylvari was no slouch, but Ak’ka didn’t look nervous. Instead, she rolled her shoulders back, the tattoos inscribed in green-gray skin glowing white before a second pair of arms burst from her torso.[3] Ah, that was better. Twice the hands for twice the smashing.
She picked up the pace, top pair of arms smashing downwards and the bottom set of arms digging downwards and prying apart the cracks. She caught Sylvari’s gaze and smirked. It was a game, but she clearly wasn’t here to play. 1. Bull’s Strength 2. Heavy Enchantment, Double Strike 3. Extra Arms Tattoo
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Feb 6, 2024 10:55:44 GMT -5
Seeing as Ak'ka was bringing the heat with growing a second set of arms and plowing in like a coordinated team of miners, Sylvari grinned, figuring it was only fair to even the odds a bit. She called out for her flail, currently resting holstered on her hip, to come forth, and the weapon seemingly moved of its own accord [Spell Blade, Living Weapon], flying a short distance from its mistress and beginning to spin, end over end, rapidly. It launched into a frenzy of attacks [Double Strike Enchantment] against the ice, churning up the previously weakened sections that Sylvari had coordinated.
Rolling her shoulders in the same way that Ak'ka had, Sylvari decided to through her whole effort in as well [Bull's Strength], using her enhanced mobility from the spell to launch into her signature pirouette fighting style, using the reverberations from her swings to power the momentum of her spin and hit a second time in the span it would take most people to hit once [Double Strike Enchantment].
With her ignited competitiveness, Sylvari began absolutely churning through her second of the field, having to devote more and more of her attention to keeping her footing on the rapidly diminishing plateaus of ice upon which she skated. She flashed Ak'ka an impish grin, thoroughly enjoying the friendly competition.
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Post by Ak'ka the Bonegrinder on Feb 16, 2024 9:55:37 GMT -5
Sylvari was uppin’ the ante.
Watchin’ someone control a weapon with their mind was a new one - and definitely a move Ak’ka wasn’t expectin’ of her new friend.
Neither was the dance.
Most folks weren’t aware that war was like a song. You could feel it in yer bones, the movement, the rhythm. The way Sylvari moved in that moment - leapin’ across the ice, spinnin’ and twirlin’ like a damn ballerina, Ak’ka knew she could feel the Battlesong in her heart, too.
Damn. This was really shapin’ up to be a challenge.
Ak’ka continued smashin’ through the ice with her primary set of arms - with her secondary, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small rock. Looked like a toy, a flat stone tied to twine.[1] But in the right hands, even a children’s toy could be deadly. Ak’ka slipped the string over one of her fingers and launched it out four feet in front of her, strikin’ the ice beyond where her arms could reach, in rapid succession.
BAM!-BAM!-BAM!-BAM!-BAM!
The sound was almost like a firing squad of crossbow bolts, with considerable more force behind them. If Sylvari could expand the radius of her ice-breaking, so could Ak’ka. The orc was effectively carving a crater around her… and the force of her blows were haphazardly scattering chunks of ice in every direction. A hazard to anyone close enough. 1. Up-Down Rock
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