A downhill filth ride. I'm in.
Search Posts
Liberte' makes no secret of his confusion. Umm, Did someone tell you he died in an accident, and you believe it was murder? 'cause, it sounds like a job for the Watch, and I got no hurry to step on their toes.
Liberte' wakes in his bed, much to his surprise. His head throbs and his bladder aches. With great effort, he manages to free himself of sheets wrapped up into his clothing and armor. He moves slowly from stiffness. He walks to the corner of the room and undoes his britches. Taking aim at the large porcelain pot at his feet, he lets loose a stream that rings with satisfaction. His head rolls back and eyes close, the mixture of headache and relief is bitter sweet. The warrior begins to sway a bit, and the ringing is replaced with splatter against the floor. He quickly corrects himself with a minor shift. Time disappears as he reaches the end and shudders uncontrollably with one last burst. He smacks his lips tasting his dry lips and mouth. Wandering over the the wash basin. He grabs the water jug and drinks greedily. Some of the water splashing on his front. He uses the rest of the water with a pour into the basin. Grabbing handfuls of water, he splashes his face. Dampening a cloth from the rack, He quickly wipes away the night's sweat with the wet rag. Liberte' was feeling better but his head still throbbed. He takes a handful of mushrooms and waits for the warmth to wash away the pain. He notices the letter at the door. He takes it and reads. It's too early in the morning for math He didn't have the luxury to turn down a job. However much his end ending up being, it was more than zero. Liberte' straightens his dress and grabs several sugar beets that he keeps in a crate in his room. He starts eating into one while heading down to Sebastian's stall. He spends the morning hour brushing him and feeding him beets and oats. He arrives shortly after Dharakk, while riding Sebastion and squinting against the noonday sun.
Liberte' says And let that be a lesson to you. The Earlier spin messes with his equilibrium and he takes a few steps sideways and backwards. No need to thank me Wraps, that's what friends are for. He turns for the door, and walks like a sailor on a rolling deck. He makes his way to Sebastian. It takes a few tries before Liberte' is mounted on the patient horse. The fighter heads off into the night trying to avoid obstacles that aren't really there
Liberte' rushes up to the man over Carduus, pulling his swords as he goes. He does a low spin to knock the legs out from the assailant.
Liberte' looks around. T-Bone, where's Wraps? He looks back at the door. He looks back at the door. [b] I'll go get him man He hands off his bottle.
Liberte' watches Dharakk emerge from the billowing mist. T-Bone! He then watches as he heads for the tavern door T-Bone? Where you goin' Man? Liberte' gets up from his chair and follows after him.
What were the effects of Liberte' failing his saving throw?
I'll take whatever attacks not covered by init or acrobatics
As all hell breaks loose, Liberte' reaches for a bottle on top of the bar. Someone's body slams into the bar a few feet down. The jolt causes the bottle to fall on it's side. It begins to roll away from him down the bars length. Liberte' slides in and out of the commotion with rapped attention focused on the rolling bottle. He extends his hand underneath the bars edge, and the bottle rolls off and into his grasping hand. A couple in a violent dance move past, hitting Liberte' hard enough to cause him to spin. He moves sideways and stumbles into an empty chair. Sitting down hard, he looks at the bottle and pulls the cork with his teeth. With a toasting gesture to the room, he brings it to his lips and takes a swig.
Liberte' grabs Dharrak's hand and steadies himself. Thanks man As the floor continues to spin. the warrior grabs for the bar. His eyes are closed. He quickly opens them to stop from being thrown to the ground by the violent motion of the room. He reaches for a drink only to have it move out of his grasp by his swaying. He tries again, but for some reason it still slides away from his grasp. He frowns. Hey. I got no problem bein' luxuriated. Count me in.
Liberte' tries to get up from the floor, unfortunately he can't unaided. He looks up to see if the patron is a man or a woman.
Liberte' visibly relaxes. I'm Longfellow Thunderstud, of the Sharn Thunderstuds. Seeker of won money and women of questionable virtue.
Then don't go making your mother ashamed, being rude to strange warforges looking to make friends. Liberte' hiccups. MotherShamer
Well met? The inebriated warrior says Weren't you the guy who chewed Gears up and spit on the floor...with him. Are you some sort of ... Liberte' tries to figure out the right word for a warforge racist. Machine-ist?
If T-Bone and Wraps are goin' I'm goin' Liberte' says as he weaves up to sign. Since he's a fugitive, It's best to give a fake name. He takes the pen and writes... Mr. Happy
Like when she tells you, 'I'm pregnant' Liberte' drifts as he takes another long drink. Gears is a good nickname for you. Gears is a guy whose your buddy. Liberte' tentatively pats Haqueton's arm. You were built for the purposes of others. I know what that's like. He turns to look out among the other patrons while leaning his back and elbows on the table. You don't need to live the fate given to you by others. Change your stars. he begins to pontificate. You can do anything you want. Get a puppy. Get married. He looks at Haqueton. In your case, a fat girl with low self worth He looks out at the other patrons again. Anything He takes another swig
Smack right into a door. He says under his breath. Yeah. If your buying, I'm drinking too.
Liberte' looks uncomfortable by the continued attention from his new 'friend'. He looks around the bar giving non committal 'yeah's and 'nope's to the sycophantic drivel he was hearing. An orc or half orc across the bar, he squints at it. A look of recognition crosses his features. Hey! T-Bone! Liberte' gestures he's going over to meet him. A poor memory for names had always forced him to compensate. He usually gave nicknames to those he liked in someway. He tries to remember Dharakk's name. When he first heard it, he thought it sounded like someone running into a door. Duh-rumph?Puh-rack? Crap it all. He had seen the muscled beast of a man with not insignificant risk to himself, save a little one. Tough and kind hearted, He did like him. Thanks for the drink man. Got to go Liberte' slips off the stool and navigates around and through the bar. He bumps into something hard. Holy blow me. It was a warforge, He'd had never seen one up close and personal. His mouth agape, Liberte' cocks his head to the side. Sorry man he says as an apology for running into him. Pausing for a moment, he says. I'm curious...can a warforge get drunk? Before the warforge can answer, Liberte's attention has already shifted.Wraps! Good to see you man. He liked the sickly looking medic. Liberte' thought he was funny. The whole time that the medic was applying soothing balm to his burns, he was b~@$&ing about how much money he was losing. But it really didn't seem to slow down his benevolence. Hey man, T-bone's here too. He points off in Dharakk's Direction.
Liberte' absentmindedly fondles the thin brass medallion draped around his neck. He looks down at it. Civilian Award for Humanitarian Service wrap the circumference in raised letters with a stylized star in its center. He looks up as he gets closer to his destination, The Drunken Dragon. Don't worry Sebastian. I heard from the others It's a good part of town. Liberte' dismounts smoothly and strokes Sebastian's flank. He takes the reins and leads his horse to the stable post and water trough. He pats Sebastian. Maybe I can get a game going. Be back in a few hours. Be good. Liberte' pulls out a pouch that he takes a pinch from. He places the dried mushrooms between his cheek and gums. The familiar spread of warmth, excitement, and relaxation hit with a soft punch. As Liberte opens the door to the tavern, the smells hit with an assault of stale sweat, rich tobacco, heady ale, and roasted meats. His eyes slowly adjust as he moves methodically towards the bar. With a nod, he says to the barkeep. A pale of black beer, please Liberte pulls his purse free to fish out some coin. Hey Mate. Aren't you one of the saviors of Bloodcrier's Hammer? The stranger stops Liberte's hand from his fishing. The man slaps his back. Your moneys no good here friend. Liberte' nods thanks and pulls the pale closer to him. Regale us with your tale friend Liberte' stares deep into the black liquid and starts to lose himself. A flaming piece of debris floats past his head. He pushes Sebastian to ride faster. He hears someone scream It's shifting! Run! The facade of one of the towers rips free as stone,wood and fire rain down. Liberte' gets his shield up just in time to divert part of the dislodged ship's girder that knocks him free of Sebastian. Liberte' is spun and sent sliding to the edge of the walkway. His speed only retarded after he grab a dangling mooring line. A explosion from somewhere in the ship caused screams. Liberte' climbs back up and pulls himself back onto the walkway bridge. He coughs and tries to catch his breath while getting to his feet. He looks up to see a small fire elemental racing for him. This can't be good The stranger shakes Liberte' Hey friend what was it like Liberte' looks at the man. He says Hot and noisy then takes a drink
Liberte' looks out upon the upper Dura. Something about the slow clickety clack of his horse's, Sebastian, saunter calms Liberte's nerves. He glances to the side to look down over the side of the bridge. He observes the flickering lights of the slum below. The sight is both sharp and fuzzy, both moving closer and falling away. Liberte's bloodshot eyes look back at the adventurers ward he was approaching. Should be plenty of opportunity to find a game here. Need some coin for a room
Background: Liberte' was born Riedra in Sarlona to the cult of the Inspired He was raised to worship the Inspired as gods. His parents always seemed devout. His father Troy Desperto ran a tavern with a gambling parlor in the basement. Liberte' was drawn to the skill married with luck. He found it mare satisfying than any hymn or sermon.
Slowly he began to question his beliefs. He did not dare speak it aloud to anyone for fear of execution, like so many heretics before him. Little did he know his father harbored similar tendencies. Two days after his 17th birthday, Enforcers raided the bar, and took his father away. He had heard that the Enforcers had found forbidden writings, not that they needed an excuse or even proof. His father was publicly executed by being roasted to death inside a brass bull. Hours of screaming followed by stone silence was Liberte's last memory of his father. It wasn't until later that Liberte' had learned his Mother had turned him in. She had a strange air of satisfaction regarding her husbands death. A man she supposedly loved and cherished for over 20 years. Liberte' ran that very night, fueled by alcohol and mushrooms. Liberte' never stopped running, while keeping his mind cloaked with hallucinogens.
Please see character for crunch, working on background
Wrecktall was the first to submit Edit: to be clear, this is wrecktall's character :)
Background:
Background: Working on time travel in the (probable) year 2371, Patrick opened a wormhole. He was going to send a beacon back to the year 1985 to a warehouse site in London England. According to records, the warehouse was abandoned for several years either way of the target year. The beacon once on the other side, should narrow down the exact time and date of past entry.
Everything went like clockwork, but when the beacon made it across the wormhole, it met an unknown catastrophic energy. The wave of energy made its way back through the wormhole, turning it inside out and ripping it apart into a nearly infinite amount of fragments. The explosion was horrific, ripping Patrick's body apart.Patrick's mind was bombarded with an impossible amount of sensory input. The cacophony is without a point of reference. Simply put, Patrick wished for death, no...non-existence for what seemed like an eternity. Slowly, what could only be described as eons, Patrick regained a small measure of focus. Patrick's body and mind had been set into every possible time, and every possible earth. More versions than can be counted are on a lifeless rock with no air or protection. His immortal bodies suffering the tortures of the damned. Others are in more hospitably terrain, Fracture's personality slips from one version of himself to another. Eventually learning to settle in one over another. His human mind is incapable of storing all the experiences, he must limit the memories within his mind or go mad. Patiently, over thousands of years, and hundreds of lifetimes, this discreet personality finds himself in Britain. He is finally ready to find out what went wrong so long ago. He knew it was a great risk. He could potentially unravel his own existence should something go wrong, but it was a risk he finally was willing to take. Powers:
Immortal He can slip into any version of himself on any timeline, and return
He can also gain new advantages, (example: having a need for a motor cycle, He can travel back in time for training and Equipment advantage to purchase a motorcycle, and parking it around the corner sometime in the resent past.) He can manipulate the time around his body (mimicking super speed) He can flood the mind of those near him with the sensory input of every possible version of themselves (which will completely incapacitate a normal man) Character Sheet: Name: Fracture (Patrick O'Shea) PL 10 (150) STRENGTH 0 STAMINA 3 AGILITY 5 FIGHTING 0 DEXTERITY 2 INTELLIGENCE 0 AWARENESS 5 PRESENCE 5 Skills:
Advantages:
Powers: "Switch Consciousness With Past & Future Selves"
"Undying" Immortality 3 [6] "Mimic Super-Speed"
"Quantum Flux"
Offense:
Defenses:
Total: Abilities: 40 / Skills: 15 / Advantages: 1 / Powers: 88 / Defenses: 6 (150)
Wow, the mage looks so awesome and fun. you can't really have too many evil mages right? |