Revenge is an Obsidian Arrow

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Lady Sabine, Aug 25, 2013.

  1. When Naqu was a boy, Humans and Elves were just distant threats, whispers from the coast of strange wooden vessels that carried invaders to shore. A few traders had exchanged their curious metals and baubles with his clan, but they had been weak and scrawny, and even an army of them could have never bested the powerful Orcish warriors.
    When Naqu was a youth, the Orc Nation discovered quite abruptly just how wrong they were about the threat. True, Elf and Man both were puny on their own, but on their strange continent across the sea there were beasts much more powerful than they. Dragons. Alien and terrible, they rained down death from the sky with impunity, for their scales repelled all but the best-placed arrows. With their breath they set alight the great plains that had been his peoples' home since the world began, driving away the wingless drakes his people used as pack animals and devouring the plains-cows they had hunted. His clan had been one of hundreds ambushed in the night by scaled death, their tents set alight before the sentries had noticed the winged terrors.
    He had survived, and joined another clan more cautious than his own. He had grown to a strong young man with them, tempered by hardship and fueled by revenge. He hated the riders more than he loved life itself, and for that cause he devoted his life.
    When the clan wandered by the strewn fields of rubble from the volcano, he collected a single stone. When the clan arrived at the great piney woods, he climbed a tree to find a nest and harvested three feathers. When they passed a grove of ironwood, he cut a single branch. With these materials he fashioned for himself an arrow of burgundy wood with a head of obsidian fletched with the feathers of a great hawk. This he took to the circle of the high shamans (those that survived, anyway) and had blessed.
    It was just an arrow, perhaps, but it was an arrow he intended to change the world with.
    So he lay there in the high grass not far from the trail which the caravans traveled. He lay there with this arrow notched and a whistle clutched between his teeth. He lay there, coated in mud and in grass to hide him from even the sharp eyes of a dragon. He lay there with murder in his heart and a look of grim satisfaction on his face. This he had waited nearly a decade to do, and this he would have done by sunset.
    The riders flew organized patrols, designed to keep the caravans safe. Unfortunately, their habit made them easy to anticipate. At precisely noon, he first heard the heavy beating of wings. A moment later, out of his peripheral vision, he saw a flicker.
    When the dragon was nearly overhead, he closed his lips and blew once, sharply, on the whistle. When the dragon pulled back suddenly, the two large scales that armored his chest pulled apart for just a brief instant. Just a few inches apart, and just for a moment before his wings dipped again.
    When the dragon opened his scales just for that moment, Naqu sent his arrow, fletching and all, straight through the gap.
    Their scales were impenetrable, but their bones were light, hollow, and brittle. The arrow shattered the breastbone of the poor beast, piercing its heart. It was an injury not the greatest of mages could have fixed. It was a shot Naqu was justly proud of.
    The dragon crumpled from the air, and he leapt up, shouting with exhilaration and joy. This was not the end of revenge for the death of his clan, not even close, but this was a start. It was a start also of life on the lam, for the riders would want to hunt him down like a dog, but he did not care. This was his finest moment.
    And then he detected movement from the back of the downed beast, and wondered if it was a fine moment after all.
    • Strictly Medieval tech with no gunpowder
    • No animals as player characters (including but not limited to dragons)
    • Elves, Orcs, and Humans are the only canon races
    • First person to post as the rider gets him (or her). No squabbling.
    • Speaking of dragons, think Skyrim only less intelligent. 50 ft long nose to tail, 2 legs, 2 wings, breathe fire (and only fire). Cannot speak, communicate telepathically with their ONE AND ONLY rider. Riders are permitted as characters, but if you are stupid about it I will ask you to leave.
    • As for Orcs, metalworking is rare among them and their culture is very tribal with a high degree of gender equality. Orc females are typically ~6'0" ft tall, males ~6'6", they are strong but not insanely so. Don't be stupid with Orcs either.
    • If you have a question about whether or not something counts as stupid, err on the side of caution. Or send me a PM and ask. I don't bite. ^^
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  2. "Inquire about if the orcish people have deities, or religion. What a crock of shit , even if they do one side is going to take offense THEIR religion isn't universal and attack and purge the other entirely." Flynn ranted at himself, being tasked with doing the spiritual advisors bitch work, just becuase he was the most inexperienced apprentice of the order.

    "Hey lets send the dude who can barely levitate himself to be a represent the magic community in a inquisition and peace offer campaign, that'll at least keep him from spending all day mixing those dangerous potions." He said in a mocking dimwit voice.

    Next thing he knew he was waking from being unconscious and was hanging by his feet , his vision blurry he couldn't see his captors, all speaking angrily to each other.

    ".......fuck" Flynn said in a flat tone not being able to figure how to get out of this.