I am sorry but I can't keep up the motivation for this game. Its moving too slow for me. So I will be dropping out.
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I can't. Don't know what's going on.
More marching. Yay.
Rafi sighs into his hand and looks away from combat. It was painful to watch. Like children swatting at bees they were too scared to get close to. Rafi didn't think he could do any better at hitting an opponent but he didn't attack most of the time. He just defended until the enemy gave up trying to hit him. Scorpions would probably be more fun to watch.
Rafi raises an eyebrow which is tantamount to his eyes popping out of his head. Things were getting interesting. And not in a good way. Was something fishy going on? Such secrets in an army could have dire consequences. Rafi's natural lethargy wars with his since of duty that was beaten into him since a young age. He had to stay here for five years to get free. Best to avoid trouble. But if he died in the process the whole thing would be moot. The mages pass, unaware that their conversation has been heard. And after a moment longer Rafi heads back as well, taking a more roundabout way. He keeps quiet, for now.
Rafi will certainly not be enabling this foolishness. Fighting over fighting scorpions? If the irony were any thicker he could smack Sloade over the head with it. He is more interested in the fact that Shea had been pulled away. If possible he would like to get closer to that conversation.
He looks at her out of the corner of his eye and nods towards the commander's tent, a motion that might have looked like he was agreeing with her to a casual observer.
Already his interest in this was diminishing. Now it was turning in to posturing. He saw enough of that at home. What was the point in the scorpions if they were just going to fight each other over them? He turned to find something else to occupy his time and noticed the spear woman had left. What was her name? Something Truth? No. That was the nickname. It started with an S. That was all he remembered. She walked over to the command tent, Whiskeyjack's command tent, inquired of something and was turned away. He looked around and also noticed others had left. He approaches the stoic woman as the others prepare for combat. Apparently greeny was going to fight. "What was that?" he ask quietly.
Rafi continues to listen the conversation, not aware of the interest others are giving to the commander's tent.
Ah. So that's what they were talking about. Gathering scorpions to gamble over. And they thought he was the slacker? You'd think they'd learn after his punishment that such behavior wouldn't pay off. How many of them had even been to these lands? To lands outside the homes they came from? Seemed silly to pass up an opportunity to observe a place different and far from their own for a simple scorpion fight. Maybe he should consider getting one. Might make them less angry. Some of the men here looked like the kind that might slit your throat in your sleep just for looking at you wrong. But no. This was stupid and dangerous. One sting and you could die or hamper the squad by making them one man short. He didn't pay much attention to the column when walking. His mind and eyes were usually elsewhere, taking in the scenery. Maybe he had seen one recently.
Message to all games. Starting tomorrow I will be on vacation for a week. Posting will be spotty, focused, or non-existent depending on what is going on. Will try and keep up. Sorry.
Should he tell her? That he went easy on her? That might be interesting to watch. But it also might lead to a fight and that was more trouble than it was worth. How to counter then? Something lewd should work. "Your welcome in my tent anytime." He then shifts his attention to whatever Koryk and the others were talking about. Sounded interesting. But that was still to be determined.
Rafi wasn't nearly as surprised as everyone else. They had never been in the army. Well, neither had he but he had been raised by an army family. Been trained since a very young age. He recognized the ploy for what its worth. Whiskeyjack purposefully moved slower in reaction to Smiles. It was certainly a good strike but that was the point. When they do something right, reward them. They will remember the feeling and try to do it again next time, thus making them better. It was how they trained students at the academy. None of them could actually touch his grandfather but he gave them a win or two when they did it right to improve moral and teach a lesson. Annoying as it was to be reminded of his family, he couldn't help but be appreciate how effective the tactic was. Whiskeyjack. He would remember this man. What actually surprised him was the so called punishment. He was already up before the others but now it was required. Was this an indirect approval of continuing with his own style? He wasn't sure. Either way he wasn't going to skip anymore. He would be more troublesome to angry the others than do a few drills. He gave the Sergeant a look that said he knew what was going on here...and that he wouldn't cause problems anymore.
I thought he was a Bridgeburner before the coup? -Posted with Wayfinder
Ah. So this man was the one he heard about. The one that put Green Howl on the ground so fast no one saw the attack. Though he watched with a bored expression his eyes never left Whiskeyjack, wanting to see what the old Bridgeburner could do. But if Smiles' and Greenies' attacks were anything to judge by Rafi wouldn't see much.
"Only the army ones," he responds equally uninformative. He did indeed skip the army drills as much as possible but he never missed his morning forms. Ones, for the most part, were wholly unique to him. But two could play at this game and he had a lot of practice. Unnoticed was how he had passed much of his childhood. Though that was mostly intentional. When he was noticed it usually meant he was in trouble and he would be forced to train. So he passes the ball back to the unnamed stranger as he watches the others making wagers on something.
"Never much. Just staying out of the way," he responds, raising an eyebrow. That was about as far as his expression of surprise would go. He was fairly certain he had never met this man and yet the man knew his name. Well, nickname. Rafi tilts his head a little to the side as he had with Ti'ck. "Do I know you?"
All valid points. Like I said, though, we have a lot of glib characters. Without forcing us I don't think we are going to converse with other people until after the first real battle.
Rafi got the feeling the shelled warrior was grinning but the action served no purpose with a faceplate blocking view. This one was odd. Oh well. To each their own. Rafi shrugs and wanders away, curiosity apparently sated for the day. He approaches no one else and actively avoids Smiles. When she had that look he wanted nothing to do with whatever she was thinking about.
Marching. Rafi thought it would be worse. It was rather enjoyable actually. At least once he drowned out the noise. They moved with precise steps to a beat. That meant he barely had to think to stay in time and in line. So most of the time his eyes and his mind wandered. Besides the mild exercise and constant drone of feet hitting the ground, it was a lot like sitting on the roofs back home. He spent much of his time looking at the sky and the clouds or the scenery around him. So at the end of the day he didn't appear as haggard as the rest. He certainly sweat as much but he was no stranger to physical exertion. Every morning he was still up doing his own weapon forms besides the ones taught in the army. Second nature at this point. As the black armored woman lets water seep into the creases she feels eyes upon her. Soon after there is a light tap on her back. She spins to see Aloft standing behind her with a curious look. He squints as if trying to see into the shadows of the faceplate and the person within. Not once while they were training had he seen who was in there. Anonymity was fine but staying like that in this heat and when thirsty seemed a tad silly. "Why don't you just take it off?"
Philosophy about faith in the army? Hilarious. Five years of this is going to be tougher than I thought. Just do what they say and stay alive. Then you're free. Maybe I can find something to do besides hit things without father looking over my shoulder.
"Like he said, we're dead men. What does it matter what we think." As always there is little sign of emotion in the response.
Over the next few days Rafi, or Aloft, turns even more inward. When he first arrived he was a model soldier. He did the drills, stayed quiet, and got along with his squad as best he could. But after a few short weeks it became obvious he didn't want to be here. He would disappear from time to time, only to be found in some odd place starring at the clouds. He didn't talk, didn't follow orders. He just went through the motions. Yet even as he skipped training he still remained one of the better fighters. Well his record was abysmal but it took his opponent a while to land a blow. He danced around most opponents, leading them around the ring and batting clumsy swings aside. He was definitely gifted. But he never went on the offensive himself. Which made fights between him and Tarr excruciating. Both were defensive types so they would last hours sometimes. Tarr would wait for them to tire after pounding on his shield while Rafi merely outlasted them by leading them around the ring. Their fights were the only he showed some initiative though. Every now and then he would try to pull some crazy maneuver to get over or around Tarr. Sometimes they worked. Most times they didn't. But after each fight he would go back to his usual morose attitude, like he regretted even participating. It was only when one got up early enough that they saw his true skill. Even before the normal wake-up call, Rafi would find a secluded spot to practice. No armor and no weapons beyond a simple wooden staff. The steps he showed in spars couldn't compare to the dance he could do with the quarterstaff. Sometimes he seemed to glad across the ground while other times he seemed as ridged as a stone. And whatever shadow he was using to fight against was a warrior of great skill because Rafi would stop mid-fight and try and redo an attack or guard, faster than before. So two things were very obvious about Aloft. He didn't want to be in the army but he was damn good at fighting.
Family. The word sent Rafi reeling back in time to memory he had hoped to forget. He was maybe seven and still given some free reign to wander around the nearby neighborhood. Back then he still had friends as well. Local children whose parents worked the shops or plied some trade in the city. His father would think they were beneath his station but at least he had fun with them. One day the fun turned to tragedy. They were playing in the street as they always did when a carriage came through way to fast. Too fast for one of his friends to get out of the way. They didn't even try to stop. He didn't make it. When he got home that day he found the carriage outside the stables near their house. And the ones riding it were sitting at his family's table, talking and conversing in a jovial atmosphere. As if they hadn't just murdered someone that day. His world turned red as he cleared the table and lashed out the man his father was talking with. He only got one good punch before his father and the mans guard pinned him to the floor. He tried to explain what happened, what the man did, but his father wouldn't hear it. He forced Rafi to apologize and even pay recompense by tending to the horses for the duration of his stay. Back in the now, he hangs his head. "Right. Cause family always has your back." It wasn't loud enough for Dujek to hear but most of the other recruits could. For the ones he had trained with the last few months, it was the most emotion they had ever heard from him ever. The words were so bitter it left a bad taste in their mouth. Rafi rolls backward off his seat. He plants his hands and twists in the air to land facing away from the others and walks away. It was a flashy move but it was the fastest way to get away. As his nickname would suggest, he goes off to find a high place to get away and watch the clouds.
The man formerly known as Rafi rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance. Symbolic nonsense.
‘Drill sergeant named Rafi Aloft, Sarge.’ Koryk intervened, after Rafi used his real name. "Not my name. Didn't bother to remember," giving Tarr the equivalent of an annoyed look. He still looked rather bored.
Rafi points at the man who answered. He doesn't know his name nor really care. At this point, all he cares about is this stupid itch and getting out of this ridiculous armor the first chance he can get.
Um. I don't get what you are trying to do. Most of those offensive and defensive actions are in the pathfinder system as maneuvers or abilities. Bash=Reposition or Bull Rush Grip=Grapple Damage Weapon=Sunder Blind=Dirty Trick etc. Are we forgoing the pathfinder stuff completely? Are these random? Is a CA a free action per round on one of the attacks?
Edit: He is not sleeping while sitting. Instead is pulling and adjusting the leather armor as if uncomfortable in it. "Rafi," he says, not really paying attention as he fights to get at an itch. Eventually he reaches for his army issued shortsword, which is dull from lack of upkeep, to get at the itch on his back.
The whole thing kinda confused me. I didn't see anything mentioning me nor a reference to Aloft so I want sure where to go with it. Got it on the armor thing.
The man who hadn't yet drawn Dujek's attention sat stock still and hadn't moved through the whole show. You could swear he was either dead or sleeping. He didn't look like the other recruits, mainly from the lack of armor. He instead wore simple clothes. A pair of sandals, breeches, a cotton shirt, all bound together with sashes and bandages. His face was cast downward so you couldn't see his face but he had a mop of unruly brown hair. The way he sat suggested a tall frame, near 6 feet maybe with long lanky limbs of corded muscle. His weapon of choice seemed to be the quarterstaff he rested on, another oddity in this army, as well as two javelins on his back under the backpack and dagger in leg sheath on both legs.
Screw it. Done. Have a look see.
Good lord I having way more trouble than I thought settling on a story and motivation for leaving. Why did Shea leave? I don't her backstory on the forums or the character profile.
A good point. Character so far. Added Knowledge Nobility, History, Local, and Engineering. DM mentioned they were an intelligent society. Also changed the tongues stuff to Catfall from the link above. That or just change them all to slowfall and max at 80ft. |