100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

This was a ridiculous situation. He shouldn’t even be here. And what’s more, where the fuck were Rein and Seto when you needed their insane asses? The call to defend the castle had come in, it seemed, simultaneously for everyone in the game. Or dimension, as Merkaba called it. What sort of hell a mass ping like that had to be playing with her doctrine he did not know, but he suspected she had new theories regarding Gods and the value of this stupid place. If some Greater Being had asked EVERYONE to come to its aid at once? Clearly that was something she had to investigate. And that meant dragging him along for her crazy little ride.

That was how he had wound up in one of the castle towers that lined the walls, sitting rather dully in an uncomfortable wooden chair and waving his hand back and forth outside the window while men shouted and enemy fire rained down upon them. He was smart enough to seek the protective shelter of the fortifications, trusting that the trees would rather lob rocks at groups of men and siege weapons than a tower window that was for the most part harmless. For the most part, because every time he spotted something worth shooting, he would summon up his arcanamancy and fire a bolt out into the enemy ranks. He had impressive range; it was the gift of his magical school, and so that had made him a sort of sniper as he tried to focus down enemy mages and weaken their ranks by “Geeking the Mage” as the term went.

43 + 15 = 58 ​

(Roll) The Ancients Attack

 

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Whatever Aaron could do to help, he would.

He felt like he had helped start this war. By attacking the treants and the oakhearts. He didn't know for sure they were gathering for war. They could have been gathering for a celebration, or anything, or something. And he slaughtered them. He slaughtered them like animals. He didn't know whether they were just men, or women and children too. Well, they were trees, which biologically are sort of both, so who knows.

He stood at the ramparts, casting his Illumancy magic at the amassed army. He frowned. Because he had killed some before, now he must kill more. He had never had an adversion to killing evil, or non-sentient beings. But was he now finding that tested? When all those "heroes" before had taken oaths to never kill, had they been right all along? He didn't know. Right now, he had a duty. A duty to defend this castle, and all those inside it. He didn't wish harm upon this invading army. But it was a paladin's job to defend. So he would defend. He had considered joining the assault team, but such actions, he knew, would not sit well with him.

His illumancy magic perhaps wasn't the best suited for offense, but it could do damage. As hammers of holy light flew forward, Aaron hoped that it would mostly injure enough to put the enemies out of commission, to have them stop fighting, rather than kill. Even better, injure enough that a friend had to remove them from the battlefield. That would rid them of two enemies, without a single life lost unnecessarily. Yet, Aaron would not regret it if he had to take a life. These beings had chosen to attack. They would be met in kind.

Roll: http://spherical.link/terrarp/threads/roll-the-ancients-attack.1494/#post-8422

44+15=59

 

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

They followed in the footsteps of greatness. And a few mortals who fancied themselves god, perhaps? No matter. Rook had come when called and the odd woman they deigned to let lead them in the guise of loyalty bade them to defend this place. The waking world snarled and snapped below, a wave of war made of thorns and bark and pointed ears. They wondered idly if The Honeyed Rot fought behind him or if it remained impassive to political affairs. It was not there in answer when they reached out with the faintest flickers of mana. No time for it.

Rook stood upon a tower with their guild mate to their side. The hooded man always seemed to toe the line between fanciful impassivity and impatience bordering on irritation. The sniping seemed effective enough and while the caster also possessed Arcanamancy, that wasn't what called to them here. No, the cards sung to them.

Five of Wands. Ace of Swords.
Strife. Victory.​

Astramancy turned to Pyromancy as The Queen of Cats roared through the tarot cards. Two of the fine cardstock flew from their hands and hovered before Rook's eyes. With a flash they merged and vanished. Down on the field below a line of flame sparked to life, a wall of fire between the advancing forces and the wall. If they thirsted so for victory then surely they would suffer for it gladly in the fire plane's patron's claws. The forest would burn for no reason Rook knew. For no reason they cared to know.

71 + 10 = 81
( Roll ) The Ancients Attack​

 

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

All she could think was that this was wrong. She could stare at the attack, at the violence and the blood and the death all she liked, but all she could do was that: stare. Her longbow rested in her firm grip, but it suddenly held the weight of the world in its wooden curve. Gwyn couldn't begin to imagine what drawing an arrow would feel like... maybe like tugging a thread of reality right out and feeling it fray apart until she was laying awake as Sabine back home.

This was wrong on all sides, but she could only think of the slaves she'd crossed paths with. The NPCs hadn't decided this, they'd been programmed... or had they? She'd bound herself to a guild called The Heroes of Falderen, but she wasn't sure they deserved heroes if they had no qualms with something like slavery. There was a vice around her chest tightening bit by bit and she was shocked out of her stupor by the taste of iron. The ranger lifted a hand to her face and pressed her fingertips to the line of blood sluggishly rolling from her bitten lip. She wasn't the only one bleeding though. There were Falderen soldiers defending and Yladian warriors attacking. She couldn't see a clear line between what was right and what was wrong and she could have cried from the furious betrayal she felt at being made to choose. There wasn't a choice since game started them under the wings of Falderen. They were meant to care about them. Right?

But none of this was right, now was it? Gwyn's hands clenched into fists around her bow, the black wood catching the distant light of the fires besieging the castle and the fires being thrown back toward the Oakhearts and Treants fighting on behalf of the elves and their wild wood. She was a ranger. A hunter. A beast tamer. She was a woman of the wilds and there was no world in which she would suffer the leash and collar. If Gwyn couldn't bear to imagine a world in which she was a slave then how could she ever fight in the name of slavers? The human raised her bow, arrow taunt against the string. Hopefully Sera could forgive her using her work against her. When Gwyn fired, her arrow split an opposing one. The flaming strike a Falderen soldier had aimed toward an Oakheart splintered into nothing.

Sympathizer
42 + 15 = -57
( Roll ) Siege and Saboteur​

 

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

As Nalani stood on the top of the walls with other adventurers around her, she stared out at the chaos with a grim look on her face, pursing her lips together as she scanned those fighting for their side for a famaliar black haired figure. Jack had easily volunteered for the frontlines, and while the man was far more than capable of taking care of himself, anixety pulled at her heart strings. She felt something fuzzy nuzzle her hand, and glancing down at her side she looked at her lynx Asti, who gave her a look that almost looked concerned, as if she knew something was personally bothering the Felis- Well, other than that people and creatures were getting hurt and dying. But those two levels of being bothered were totally different.

However, she couldn't just sit around and do nothing. While he was down there working his butt off to heal those at the front, Nalani needed to do whatever she needed to do to help keep the enemy off the kingdom. She was upset at the fact that they would even act in the first place, but they obviously had their reasons, as much as she felt attacking and killing people did not justify it. She felt very out of place in her silly little maid maid outfit she had happened to win not too long ago, but she had to own it. She would defend in style, "C'mon Asti... Lets do some damage."

Grabbing a semi large piece of rubble and hoisting it up with the help of her lynx companion, she manage to carry it with much trouble to one of the open space in the wall, moving it up to aim. Unfortunately, it slipped an fell from the weight she could not handle, only managing to land on an elves foot, "Whoops... Lets not do that again." Not helpful.

4 + 20(Beast Taming) = 24

~Roll~
x​

 

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

"Well, well, well, looks like the war finally broken out, yet again!" Cackled Rein as he strode towards Castle Mormont. It seemed the long infamous Yadlia was finally going to try its hand on invasion once more. The real details were sketchy to Rein, but he didn't really care. It was something about elves and land, but what was far more important was the bloodshed that would follow. There wasn't anything more capable of wide spread carnage that wars and Rein would make sure he had a front row seat for the entire event, so to speak.

Falreden was desperate for extra help, so it was easy to sneak join their ranks. Well, it was easy because he was a natural citizen of the country, so in a way it made sense. That said Rein had never considered himself part of Falreden, merely he felt he had always just been a passenger trapped by circumstance. Regardless, he joined with them, fully intent on having fun. The issue was, Rein's perspective of fun didn't always in line with others view on being 'helpful' so his attempts to 'electrify to morale into the soldiers' was likely more harmful than it was beneficial. It would seem this would be a reoccurring theme throughout the battle.

Sympathizer
65 + 15 = - 80
(Roll) Siege and Saboteur​

 

95 HP

MAX HP

90 EN

MAX EN

Aaron cursed as he noticed the siege weaponry rolling out. He didn't know if his magic could do anything against that. The arrows he had received certainly hadn't helped. Sure, they weren't a crazy amount of damage, but they had done more to his health overall than he he done to their health over all. He sighed. Nothing to it but to keep fighting, he supposed.

He chanted, preparing another spell of holy power to cast at the enemies. When he finished, he once more launched at hammer of holy light toward the Yladian army. He wished he knew how to operate those ballista, or any of those weapons really. If this was real life, he might be able to figure it out, but since it all mattered based on the system numbers and such, he didn't think it would do him much good to try to do anything on the equipment. He'd probably break it. He looked around. If there was a gap in the storm of arrows, he would be able to heal anyone who'd gotten hurt himself. He did have Illumancy, after all. But if he intended to do that, he might need to reserve his energy. Decisions, decisions... what should he do, he wondered?

62 + 15 = 77
http://spherical.link/terrarp/threads/roll-defending-the-wall.1494/#post-8512​

 

85 HP

MAX HP

90 EN

MAX EN

Rook had watched curious, golden eyes as the fighting proceeded. The bodies from both sides scuttled about raising all manners of a fuss that had them peeked curiously from the defensible position to better see. Their guild made seemed to take Merkaba's orders to heart earlier than expected and he his spells seemed to strike less marks with less fury than expected. Rook smiled eerily to themselves as the next patron's eyes were captured in sudden, rapt attention. They stepped out from the small tower as the backs of the cards brushed at their fingertips with the soft sigh of skin over pages. An arrow or three nipped by, one sticking for a moment at the meat above their hip. It bit, but it didn't have near the teeth waiting for the invaders below.

King of Cups. Ten of Swords. Temperance, Reversed.
Balance. Defeat. Unbalance.​

The patron of Aeromancy was alive and livid. It was the state of anger materializing into violence and it thirsted to thrash and cut and howl aloud! Rook's eyes took on a wild light as the card slotted together and were folded together in a sudden twist to form a ball of wind. The speed of the air itself was dizzying to watch, so the caster avoided it. Instead the Velten took to the tower of the castle with eyes locked on the siege weapons below and held out their hand. The spell writhed into life and a cutting gust of wind that sounded like shrieking metal on glass slammed into one of the approaching siege towers. It was to be the first of more than a few to meet their fate at the earth's embrace below. The Winged Temple raged at the space between the planes, hungry to harm more in its impotent ire.

93 + 10 = 103
(Roll) Defending the Wall​

 

85 HP

MAX HP

90 EN

MAX EN

Gwyn moved forward, a few long-legged paces moving her from the floor of the conflict and up a large pile of rubble on the field though it stood some ways to the side of the main front line. It was a marginally safer position, if such a thing could be had here, and one that would hopefully save her from the wild firing of arrows, magic, and the like. She paused a moment with a hiss to resettle her position, having twisted her ankle slightly in the climb, but she knew she couldn't afford to let it distract her for long.

There were far worse ills to have on this, and any other battlefield, than a sprain. Gwyn caught sight of the towers moving in with a distinctive plan that every man, woman, and question could piece together plain as day. They'd attempt to mount the walls and the archer immediately had her sights set on the offensive ranged fighters atop the wall. Where she would have been if she didn't have an imagined weight around her throat at the thought. Instead of joining the volley or arrows and ballista bolts that would no doubt come flying soon, she targeted them. She charged up a Precision Shot and fired, the arrow forced forward with a blinding speed as it sacrificed overall damage for accuracy and the increased critical hit chance. Sharp, blue eyes watched from the long distance as the arrow cleaved straight through one arm of a ballista on one of Castle Dormont's towers. One less danger for the cobble together siege towers of Yladia.

Sympathizer
48 + 15 = - 63
(Roll) Siege and Saboteur​

 

85 HP

MAX HP

90 EN

MAX EN

Rein was helping. He was helping so much. First he managed to provide some encouragement to the troops, by means of electric therapy. The men were so relaxed they fell to the ground. With a laugh Rein kicked a few in the ribs, “Now is not the time to sleep!” He said with a cackle, “Wakey, wakey!” Luckily for Rein this has had happened on a more isolated portion of the tower, and before reinforcements arrived, a wave of arrows plummeted from the sky, hitting the unconscious bodies, turning them into gruesome porcupines. Rein struggled to hold back is maniacal laughter as another wave of reinforcements came to his side. They were upset about something. If only they would take a moment to take in the beautiful crimson colored scenery around them, they’d be in a much better place.


Of course they blamed Rein for the failure of the previous guard to take up their posts. They said something about, ‘locking the spy up’. “Hahaha, I’m not a spy, I’m not even a Feraldan!” apparently they didn’t like learning about this, as they all turned their spears in his direction. Idiots. Rein swiped his hand in front of him, sending a large buffet of wind that sent all of the men flying off the small tower, and plummeting to the ground. Leaning over and admiring his dirty work, Rein could not help but notice the incoming tower aimed for his now abandoned position.

Sympathizer
100 *Crit*+ 15 = -230 (I'm assuming crits are double)
(Roll) Siege and Saboteur​

 

95 HP

MAX HP

90 EN

MAX EN

Aaron was starting to feel like something was wrong was happening. It seemed like no matter what was happening to attack the forces, they weren't diminishing at the speed they should have been. It was like people were sabotaging their efforts. But why would anyone do such a thing, he wondered? What did they have to gain? And was it the actions of those who morally believed the Yladians were in the right? Or was it the actions of people who just desired to see the world burn?

Aaron hoped it was the first. It was the only one that made sense. He supposed he could understand such a person, who would go against so many other players for moral reasons. He would even respect them. But someone who fought just to sow destruction he couldn't.

Quelling the anger in his heart and turning it into fuel for his next spell, Aaron cast once more into the thick of the enemy army. He breathed heavily. This battle would be won, one way or the other. He hoped that the gods of this world were watching. He prayed they would lend their aid to which everside was right, but he feared that, like many wars, no side was completely wrong.

His health was still fine. At least that was good news. He hadn't taken any more damage in a bit, but he feared he would be taking a lot soon. He sighed. He had to do his duty. He had to defend the innocent lives in this castle. He could respawn. His live, by all rationale accounts therefore, meant less than theirs.

68 + 15 = 83
http://spherical.link/terrarp/threads/roll-defending-the-wall.1494/#post-8546​

 

80 HP

MAX HP

75 EN

MAX EN

A sound like steel hail rattled against the cobbles of the ceiling above Val's head, and he rushed for the stairs, blade already in hand. Taking the steps three at a time he dashed to the top of the corner tower and onto the ramparts. The scene his eyes laid upon was both grisly and magnificent, sour and sweet. Soldiers lay sprawled and pinned by lit and unlit arrows alike, some still with the spirit to fight, others more dead than dead. He shook his head clear; with the repeated arrow volleys and giant skipping stones, he hadn't the time to grieve for the fallen.

Sprinting across the rampart to the large contraption in the center, he aimed his palm at the attacking forces, repeatedly shouting "Mico!" and blindly firing balls of fire the size of golf balls at the oversized saplings storming the castle, very few of them finding purchase against their flammable flesh. He skidded to a stop by one of the machines and grabbed onto what appeared to be the handles. It was so hard to move, it was like trying to aim a bow while drunk... Val hit what seemed to be the trigger and a giant bolt was launched from the machine, taking a large chunk of wood out of the shoulder of one of the treants, letting its arm hang by a twig.

How he was supposed to reload the weapon, Val had no idea, and thus he gave up and continued down the ramparts, carefully avoiding the hail of arrows. Squinting, he spotted a peculiar sight; soldiers being electrified into submission or shoved off the tower by what Val could only imagine was wind by a white haired man. With a smirk, Val swept his hand down the length of his blade, whispering his incantation as he did, and the fuller was set ablaze. Approaching the stranger quickly, he swept his blade through the air and shouted a second incantation, the flame leaping from his blade and swiping at the air just beside his possible opponent. Focusing on keeping his blade still lit, Val stood tall, the tip of his blazing sword hissing against the cobbles at his feet. "I mean, I have no real allegiance to these guys, but I don'tcha think sabotage is a bit much?" he grinned coldly and playfully towards the saboteur.

43 + 10 = 58
Roll​

 

100 HP

MAX HP

100 EN

MAX EN

Noah was walking the streets of Stokbon when he heard the sound of a curior’s bell. Curiosity took over him and he headed to see what the fuss was about. Behind the boy a portal of sorts had formed. Noah stood there along with a gaggle of others listening to the woes that were falling some fort deep in the forest. It seemed that Treants and elves had gotten a bit bold and were trying to claim the fort for their own good. Noah had not cared who had the fort or not, but seeing how he missed out warding off the giant spider, this might help him make up. Noah drew his blade and proceeded into the portal with a handful of others. Upon entering the portal he could heard what sounded like fireworks, ringing all around him. This must have been the sound of the fort’s walls being attacked.


Noah heard the screams of those inside and outside the castle. He made his way through the corridors until he found himself running up a stairwell until he made his way to the upper area of the wall. The area seemed to have been destroyed, others were lit with flames. Noah saw a cluster of elves below, scaling the wall thanks to a ladder they had placed. As the group came to the top, Noah charged right at them. His blade poised to strike at them with everything he had. While his blade was not the sharpest around, his sheer strength at swinging the blade allowed him to quickly knock the smaller creatures off the wall and onto the forest floor below, ending their rebellious lives. Seeing that there were more climbing the ladder, Noah his way over there in an attempt to push the ladder off the wall and onto the ground below, sending whomever had been climbing on it right down as well. While the ones on the bottom rungs would be fine, the few near the top would most likely die upon impact. He kept his eyes and ears on full alert for the next wave of attacks to come.

88 + 20 = 108​

http://spherical.link/terrarp/threads/roll-defending-the-wall.1494/#post-8555