OPEN SIGNUPS Terrenum: The Great War

Esper

Dungeon Mistress, 9th Circle of Hell
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
It depends on the plot and my role in it. My role playing style is a little of both. The plot isn't all about me and so as long as everyone is having a good time, then style matters little.
Favorite Genres
Steampunk
Fantasy (High, Low, Modern, and Romance)
Cyberpunk
Paranormal
but in the end it is the plot that matters and interesting characters.
She reloaded the crossbow, then lit the torch herself. Her eyes looked over plant monstrosity. "Then at least grab some bows or something and distract it. I'm going to light it on fire myself."

Her goal was apparent as she slung the skins of oil over her back and ran forward with torch in one hand and dagger in the other. There was a lot of tentacles and she hoped her speed would win the day with handsome reward to boot in what remained of the wagons.

She closed the gap with a reverse grip on dagger gouging at random just to aggrivate the thing further. She leapt across the thicker ones trying to slice across to cause pain. She prayed to her Patron this worked, but oh how this beast reeked of death. Some bar patrons probably smelled worse, slightly.

She approached the center mass and sheathed her dagger. She uncorked her skin of oil and dumped it around the center of the beast, then fling the second over to dump on top of its head. She threw the torch and started gouging at places with both her blades just to aggrivate further. The fire needed time to spread and do its work.
 

One Who Tames

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Original poster
The gigantic thing on the bridge did not seem ready for Ilystasa's assault. The tentacles seemed more concerned with finding a good perch to pull itself toward them.

"N-no! Wait!"

"Damn it!"

She could plainly hear the words of her companions as she ran forward. She might even be aware that they were trying to follow her. Some of the tentacles moved past her, no doubt to attack her companions.

The stench of the beast alone would be enough to drive most men away. It did smell like death, although somewhat suspiciously so. If she had traversed the swamplands long enough she might have found a rare breed of flower that had a similar smell. It was only to lure in insects and discourage scavengers.

Ilystasa would begin to feel light-headed once she neared the beast's core. She had enough time to dump the oil and throw the torch before her vision began to spin. The monster seemed to grow and expand in front of her until it eclipsed the horizon itself. While holding her dagger, she would see green, thorned tendrils sprout from her fingertips and begin weaving their way up her arms. Every few inches additional tendrils would split off and attempt to anchor themselves in her skin. She could see root-like protrusions dimpling her flesh as they moved inside of her.

All at once, the green, fleshy horizon moved forward and slammed into her. She would be sent backward several feet onto the dirt road. A torrent of flames seemed to spread across that horizon as the lamp oil caught fire.

Voices began yelling all around her and she found herself floating backward. She passed a giant on her right with sword and shield in hands. It appeared to be fighting a hydra. When she stopped floating, she would feel something be pulled out of her hands by a black-haired man. The last thing Ilystasa would remember before falling unconscious was seeing the man dashing back toward where the giant and the hydra were fighting.

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The sun was beginning to set when Ilystasa awoke. She would feel weak and have a vicious headache. Her arms were covered in bloody cuts. Not far from her was the dagger she had tried to stab the monster with; its blade was covered in blood. There was no sign of the earlier plant-like tendrils that had burrowed into her skin.

Nor was there any sign of her companions, the monster or the horses. Her equipment, whatever she might have lost during the fight, lay where it fell. There were two arming swords scattered about and some supplies that she knew should have been strapped to the horses. On the tree where the horses had been tethered, she would find one broken leather strap still hanging from it.