yet another? fantasy RP

[Aizar]

I'm running around in circles, bored out of my skull, so! I'm going to do a little roleplaying, or try to..

I'm pretty loose, any characters, any plot, any length of posts. As long as I can read it, I'll accept you. The world is one of my own making, or a.k.a., not Forgotten Realms, Final Fantasy, Elder Scrolls, World of Warcraft, anything we've ever heard of before (though I daresay there's bits and pieces from several different worlds). Anything goes, change it as you will. Be as weird or contemporary with your characters as you'd like (though, please, keep it fantasy). THE GOAL IS TO HAVE FUN!

I think I'll use one of my old stand-by characters to start this RP off.

Name: Jeylu (pronounced Jay-loo)
Gender: Male
Race: Sirian Elf (Ice Elf)
Age: Young Adult
Occupation: Hunter sort

Starting in. On a glacier-top, somewhere in the mountains, far in the north, at night. The two moons are small in the sky, and the stars are bright...

Jeylu jogged across the ice, keeping up on the balls of his feet. Every so often the ice creaked and groaned under him, but his pace was too quick and his step too light for any mishaps to occur. He kept his nose in the air and his ears cocked; the air was brisk and cold, but his Sirian elf skin did not feel it. Still, he suspected his quarry would.

The ice creaked again, but it was off in the distance. Jeylu dropped gently to his hands and knees, reaching to his waist to pull out a long knife. Someone was out there, trying to stay hidden. He couldn't tell if the someone knew he was there, couldn't even tell if it was friend or foe, but it was always best to be safe than sorry, in these mountains. Jeylu crept up, tense, body ready to move in any direction at given notice.

[Keldor]

Jeylu's concentration became divided as his sensitive ears picked up something in the distance. It sounded like footsteps, perhaps, and were those voices?

Gradually, the sound grew nearer, and Jeylu could make out words.

"Surely ye don't mean te go THAT way?" a deep gruff voice said.

This was met with a higher-pitched voice responding in very fast speech. It seemed to have quite a bit to say, but Jeylu was too far away to make anything out.

"Last time ye said that, we ended up in a box canyon on a deserted island in the tropics SOUTH of where we started!"

More rapid chatter in response. Jeylu could almost make out words this time, though.

"Bah! Ye said the same thing when we got onto the ship that wrecked us on that island! I tell ye, north be THAT way!"

This time, Jeylu made out a few words of the response, "precise" and "improbable" and "however" to name a few. The higher pitched voice seemed to be explaining something complex to the gruff voice.

"And I tell ye me compass be more accurate, and it say we be goin southwest!" the gruff voice replied.

"I have already told you of the discrepency of the magnetic pole from the physical." The higher pitched voice was now close enough to understand, though comprehension seemed every bit as unclear, Jeylu pondered. "Most notably, we may note that the discrepency increases with reduced distance due to spacial seperation, except in the case of conjunction or opposition of the magnetic pole from the physical pole relitive to the viewer. Note that even then it will increase dramaticaly if the viewer approaches from even a location slightly out of alignment. Moreover my measurements indicate that we are at a 37.3 degree seperation in the counterclockwise direction from alignment, the angle being taken from the viewer to the magnetic pole, and the focus at the physical pole. With this in mind, it may be calculated, based on the discrepency of the geomagnetic distance measurement of your compass from the readings of the gyropnumono stabilized locicelestial sextant that we are approximately at a latitudal seperation from the physical pole half that of the seperation from the magnetic from the physical poles. This works out to a great arc distance of aproximently 300 leagues, if the measurements obtained by the mariners are to be trusted from which we may extrapolate these figures. Taken as a whole, the measurements are consistant to each other to an error within 27%, which translates to an error af approximently 80 leagues variance from the figure stated previously." This was all said in a single breath.

"I still say we be goin the wrong way." The gruff voice retorted.

By this time, the source of the voices, and the suprisingly loud footsteps could be made out to be that of a short skinny figure, perhaps a gnome, and a short stout figure, undoubtably a dwarf. The dwarf's stomping made the loud footsteps.

The figures drew nearer...

Name: Thaligar
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Age: Mature Adult
Occupation: Warrior and Blacksmith

Name: Gimbosh
Gender: Male
Race: Gnome
Age: Young Adult
Occupation: Inventor and Scientist

[Aizar]

((*facepalm* no wonder you took so long in posting ^^))

Jeylu cursed under his breath. Whatever he had been stalking would have been sure to hear the newcomers' noisy approach and left. He strained his ears harder, but whatever it was was gone now. He straightened and turned to greet the figures, putting away his knife.

"Hail! You are far from civilization."

((a little on Sirian elves and Jeylu. They are white-skinned and fair-haired, with yellow cat eyes. Jeylu is a little different, with nut-brown hair. They are adapted to very cold climates, and don't feel cold, but also can't sweat (would be very bad if they had to go to a hot place). Thaligar + Gimbosh have probably heard of them, though not nessecarily met one. I'm sure there's many myths about them, so feel free to be a little superstitous or, um, scientific... ))

[Keldor]

"Ye don't say," the dwarf grumbled, "And what be an elf doin' this far away from the nearest forest?"

The gnome continued his explaination, apparently oblivious to the elf.

[Aizar]

"Because I live here. My tribe always has." Jeylu peered at Thaligar. "Are you...a dwarf?"

[Keldor]

The dwarf snorts, "What do I look like? An ogre? Durned elf."

The gnome still appears oblivious, consumed by the action of giving a dissertation.

[Aizar]

Jeylu opens his mouth to reply, but instead looks at the gnome, still chatting on, now waving his hands in circles and diagrams. Jeylu blinks at him, not understanding a word he's saying, and half wondering if he's speaking in another language.

"Listen," Jeylu finally says. "It's a not a good night for--for you two to be out. It's very cold I'm sure, but..there's something else out here." Jeylu grimaced, hating not being able to be more precise. "I was just tracking it when you showed up. Something doesn't feel right about it."

[Keldor]

"Well, if it be a pack of trolls or goblins, then I can be handlin' it." The dwarf fingered his axe, then looked thoughtful. "But there be swarms of those around here. Ye surely wouldn't bother tellin me if ye had some of them te worry about."

The gnome glanced over his shoulder, as if to see if the dwarf is still following his explaination, and gived a rather annoyed look as he discovered the dwarf looking away from him, obviously not paying attention. "Look, the theory is quite elementry, if you look past the liquid thermodynamics of the outer sub-mantle of the earth's influence on the magnetic alignment of the earth..."

The gnome kneels down to start drawing diagrams in the snow to help to edicuate his rather slow pupil.

[Aizar]

Jeylu shrugged, ignoring the gnome, who he had already decided was quite odd and probably loony. "Why don't you take a look at it for yourself." He turned, and pointed to the ground. "We noticed the tracks first. Or you could call them that. It looks like something slid by here, melting the snow, and then it froze up again into slick ice. It passed here quite recently, you can see. Most of the others are covered up with snow." Jeylu looked up at the dwarf steadily. "And I've found several dead elk and bear along the trail. They were blackened bones."

[My email doesn't work anymore]

From the branches of a lone tree a pale pair of eyes scrutinized the scene. Chuckling lightly the watcher took the wooden stick from her lips now that the sweet had been enjoyed and a fresh one took its place. A scholar and a craftsman... she thought to herself There'd be something worthwhile amoung them but most probably not the ranger. Or at least...nothing tangible...

Bolting from her hiding place the elf glided to the ground with no more than a rustle of a pair of leaves. Touching down gracefully on both feet she whips out both a knife and her prized handgun dubbed "Velvet Nightmare" *

"Alright boys," she chided "If you would please place your valubles in the snow then be on your ways I'll be glad to take good care of them..."

Name: Diae
Gender: female
Race: Drow (Dark Elf)
Age: Young Adult
Occupation: Rogue

((*If anyone knows where that reference comes from they are nerdier than I))

[Aizar]

Jeylu starts and bristles. Eyeing the drow's gun, he draws his knife. "I doubt you'll find much treasure on me," he growls. "I guess you'll just have to fight."

[Keldor]

"Nobody steals from a dwarf!" Thaligar (who was sick of refering to himself as "the dwarf") growled, drawing his axe.

As the dwarf and elves glowered at each other, at an apparent standoff, Gimbosh, the gnome, seemed to notice the commotion.

"Oh dear! Unless I am mistaken, we are being beset by some rather unscroupleous brigands. It is fortituitous however that I have brought what may be termed a pnumonomic action automatic crossbow." Oddly enough, though while quite wordy, the gnome's reply only took the same time as the dwarf's to say.

Upon seeing the rather odd looking device the gnome pulled out of his pack, Thaligar paled noticably. "Ye'd better put that away, elf, or have ye nay ever heard of how dangerous gnomish weapons are?"

[My email doesn't work anymore]

Kevra said nothing and instead smirked casually and lept up into the air and started shooting in their genral direction, but made sure to only really shoot at their feet and the snow for the startling effect. The bullets varied between the typical lead balls from the smallest barrel and bluish magic missiles from the larger.

[Aizar]

Jeylu jumped back with a growl, squinting through the exploding snow for the dark figure of the drow. Under the blasts of the gun he could hear the ice of the glacier creaking and groaning ominously...

"Dwarf! Get off the ice!"

He peered again through the missiles and tried to make for the tree before the ice shifted and gave way...

[Keldor]

As if things weren't already bad enough, Gimbosh used the opportunity to return fire with his pnumoniwhatever crossbow device.

A strange clanging sound, which our more modern readers would say sounded like a jackhammer, filled the air, as the device spewed forth a stream, or perhaps more accurately, a spray, of sharp metal bolts in the general direction of the drow.

I say in the general direction, as not only are gnomish weapons notoriously inaccurate, but the violent shaking and recoil of the device impacted Gimbosh's aim rather severely as the device jerked him around.

Thaligar dived forward, his momentum taking him clear of the ice. As luck would have it, he had not yet had time to unstrap his shield from his back, so it proved quite useful as it deflected most of the stray bolts that came his way.

At this moment, as Kevra whisked behind the tree trunk (which really didn't provide all that much cover, given the stunted nature of anything growing this far north), and Jeylu dived behind a boulder (which would have perhaps provided more cover had it been a bit bigger), a particularily violent jerk of the crossbow device sent it spinning from Gimbosh's grasp. Unfortunantly, due to some quirk or other in its design, the mere fact that no one was holding it did nothing to stop the device from firing, and it rolled about on the ground, much like a garden hose with no one holding it, still spraying bolts in all directions. Gimbosh acted on the instinct that all gnomes have in the face of a catastrophically malfunctioning experiment, and ran, his flight taking him off the ice, past the tree, and further.

Meanwhile, the creaking intensified (although no one could hear it over the racket of the crossbow), as the ice began to shift...