69 HP

MAX HP

50 EN

MAX EN

Amane had thought their ordeals mostly over after they'd broke through the west corridor, but the sealed central room was still a realisation that was crushing in the frustration that it evoked. Thankfully, the skilled alchemists in their party could still scrap together the explosives necessary to bring down the barricade, but all the running around and close calls were starting to weigh her down. Drawing on her Illumancy, she promptly picked up a barrel, wrapping it and her with her strongest shield spells as she carefully stepped onto the minefield that stood between the party and the sealed doors. The fighting was almost over, she believed. Why else would the defenders have escaped to the floor below? They just had to get through this and fight their way through one last floor, and then maybe they could finally have peace.

She side-stepped over some rubble, using pinpricks of magic to poke the ground in front of her for mines and other manners of traps, levitating herself over certain areas if need be. The steady use of magic drained her energy bar slowly, but surely, and as she reached the the door only half of it remained. There must have been cracks in the walls, because Amane could smells whiffs of the poison that had plagued them back in the corridor, but there was no choice but to bear through it. Unless another support could aid her, she herself had no more strength to cast a purification barrier to block the worst of it.

Dropping the barrel down warily, the felis backed away, plunking down on the ground the minute she was out of blast distance. Leaning against the wall, she panted in exhaustion, her need meters accurately mirroring her sorry state. That took out a lot more from her than she would have thought.

74 + 20 = 94 (Success)
Link to Roll

11 / 18​

 

55 HP

MAX HP

50 EN

MAX EN

Barrels, explosions, and traps all in one room. If that was not a party asserting themselves over a Dungeons & Dragons table to strangle a Dungeon Master to death he did not know what was. But then, a party did tend to have some way of getting around a horrible predicament. This was a video game however, and not subject to the rules of a tabletop. At this point the Felis offered to be a runner in order to complete the objective of blowing up a teleportation mechanism. Nobody on the siege team wanted reinforcements to come billowing forth on the enemy's side.

As a man of physical might, he knew just how to carry this fragile and death screaming object. His massive fist rose up, deflecting part of an arrow trap that came soaring in his direction. From all of the travesties before, the man was beginning to make up for them. Even his size did not stop Alonso from hopping back and forth one way, then side to side another, almost dancing around the various pits and spikes dotting the floor. He did in fact take a few boxing lessons at one point in time. It was just too bad his schedule did not allow for more.

Yet, all of the barriers and various traps took their toll on the middle aged cat. He obtained a few more scrapes on top of his breathing rate speeding up in its rhythm. The beating heart within his chest made its presence known on a much faster basis, its thudding yelling at the man to push himself. Scents of the wretched toxin from before still abused his senses. His face cringed, but he forced himself to continue further until he reached the destination. Easing up on his grip he placed a steady hand to place the barrel into position. Success.

Raising to his full height the man caught onto the presence of his fellow cat person, Amane. She was tired, understandable, but this was not the place relax, "I know we're all wearing out Amane, but we can't stay here. Come now, hurry up." He would reach his arm around the female's shoulders, escorting the young woman to a safe position away from the barrels, carrying her if he had to.

66 + 15 = 81 (Success)
Link to Roll

12 / 18​

 

90 HP

MAX HP

60 EN

MAX EN

It seemed that the task before them was to move barrels of explosives across the second floor of the castle. While this seems to be an easy task in theory, in practice it is actually pretty dangerous and deadly. The entire second floor was riddled with different traps that were meant to maim and kill anybody that set them off. Lucky for their group, a rogue’s specialty was maneuvering around difficult obstacles such as traps. Their goal for this mission was to destroy the main source of their headaches at this point, the teleportation stone. It was a magical object nestled deep in the castle that was allowing for troop reinforcements and supplies to continuously enter the castle. It was also a way for the wounded here to go ahead and flee to find comfort and medical help. Noah was pretty satisfied with this plan, it involved less bloodshed and pretty much made things end quickly and easily. The only problem would be what the players would do when they eventually returned to Stokbon and other areas of the game that was under the Kingdom’s control.

Noah found one of these barrels, while it was heavy, it was not so much to the point that it would hinder his nimble movements. While he understood the sense of urgency for this task, he also realized that this was potentially dangerous. Not only was he avoiding different spike traps he was also carrying about an extremely volatile substance that could blow up on him if he misstepped. As Noah maneuvered around the traps he saw many of his fellow players getting stabbed, dropping their barrels, this was getting dangerous quick. The teleportation stone was not too deep into the second floor but these traps had made it quite dangerous. He wished he had raised his rogue’s skill set a bit more than what it currently was. He had been too focused in his swordplay that he had let the rogue aspect of his build start to slip away. Perhaps after all of this he would focus on that skill set. Maybe Dempsey could give him a tip or two. As he neared the end of his journey he saw a small group of other players that had made it safely to the other side. He placed his barrel down and headed over to stand by them.

67+ 30(Rogue)=97

Link to roll

13/18​

 

60 HP

MAX HP

45 EN

MAX EN

Success. It was a success. Other supports joined in, their magics adding onto hers, creating a beautiful array of magical web that mixed, joined and spread, covering the large area with a barrier where one could breathe and not feel the gas trying to eat through their skin, or lungs, as was the case of some unfortunate souls.

But before one could celebrate, or in fact continue with healing, there was anew hurdle.

Ilusa’s tail lashed out, swinging impatiently as she listened to how they now had to carry the barrels... Across the deadly place full of traps. This, made her earlier decision to actually look for a Rogue to learn from once she was satisfied with her Illumancy mastery all the more appealing.

She frowned and watched how others did their best, some failing, some succeeding.
The truth was this… Activity did not appeal to her and she was still trying to shake off the feeling of her skin being eaten away by the gas. Though one memorable occasion was seeing Astor casting a glance at him, which she replied to with an encouraging smile and observing his progress.

Still, in the end, she could not just… Stand and do nothing. While healing was not advised, she ended up taking from the Elven master alchemist the barrel to do her part in blowing up the teleport stone. For a moment she looked around, sighing as all of that, would have to be later rebuilt.

Then, shaking off those thoughts, she took the barrel, that was heavy and started to cast light spells in order to find a path with no traps... Or traps that her magics would activate in her stead. It was rather amazing how they seemed to never run out, traps that had been activated once, activated again.

Still, it was, all in all, surprisingly easy, if rather nerve-wracking, when she had to jump away, use light as makeshift barriers, or arrows, or, on one memorable occasion, as a sort of bridge over the smeared tar that one of the others slipped on.

It required wit and a somewhat unusual use of her spells. Still, few traps nicked her, chipping away at her health and when she finished, succeeding, her energy was getting low, as was her health.

Thus, she sat down, panting, ears and tail dropped next to @Astor Balthas... Before realising the folly of such and thus she bravely grabbed him by an arm, pulling it over her shoulder and started hauling them both back, with help of Illumancy.

In this event she discovered her school of magic had much vaster use than she thought before.

98 + 10 = 108 SUCCESS
(Roll) Don't Trip

[14/18]
​

 

15 HP

MAX HP

45 EN

MAX EN

It seemed that despite nearly drowning, this castle and its horrors were not yet done with Earley or his merry band of bloodied compatriots. As he followed them down to the next area it became clear that something large and dangerous was in the works, for there were traps everywhere and a slew of dead or dying bodies which made up the heroes attempting to place explosives near the gate. Why hadn't one person remained near it, and everybody just threw them barrels to catch and stack?

He could even just... teleport over, a short distance and line of sight, past all the traps and bullshit to do it himself. He was about to open his mouth to ask about it when he detected the gas in the air and immediately covered his face with a sleeve. Damn it all! The gas was likely screwing with their critical thinking skills... and in that state, even if he suggested his idea, their aim was probably going to be horrible. Assuming the bombs weren't incredibly volatile and wouldn't just explode in the air from being thrown... Very well then, he might as well do things the normal way. Picking one up, he began to move forward, the mist obscuring his vision and causing him to step in a bear trap which snapped closed around his left leg. Screaming in pain, he started to flail wildly, hitting a pressure plate that dropped rocks on his head. Doubling over from that, a spear shot out of the wall and into his shoulder, causing him to collapse onto the floor and sob. That was it. No more dungeon quests!

3 + 20 = 23 (Failure)
Link to Roll

14 / 18​

 

30 HP

MAX HP

45 EN

MAX EN

Rook had flown down the stairs in a near fright from the bite of the foul gas, still coughing harshly and whining when the harsh exhales weren't doubling them over. They didn't have the constitution for this. Despite running low on mana they still reached out desperately for the planar entities as if they could help settle them. The Sun-Son and Ash Cat both pressed close as they slowly got themselves in order, watching with watery eyes as the remainder of the force planning the next stage of things. The portal was to be blown. The scant healing from before was not enough for them to go risking their life, even without Merkaba's order. It was stupid, illogical, and foolhardy to do so. They didn't care about these damn people or their acidic gas clouds or their traps.

The caster had prepared to leave, ignoring the usual switch from concerned sorrow from Illumancy's patron to the resigned disappointment it favored, when they saw their guild mate move to fetch a barrel. @Earley appeared to be doing, well, shitty. They bit their lip nervously and watched from the corner of their eye, until he stepped in the trap. "Errand of fools, the Hooded Cobra is too clever for folly," they hissed at him as the small Velten delicately picked their way to Earley with a look of reproach. "We will turn back in hands." With that they gripped the barrel as with a flicker of mana pulled a gust from The Winged Temple. It floated easily along and they delivered it to those waiting before returning to Earley. Luckily they were small and light enough to simply not trigger some of the traps and avoid many others. A few arrows nicked them in passing and the fumes the barrels aggravated their body further after the gas from the west wing.

They reached Earley again and with a bit of Hydromancy's help they rusted the bear trap to open it. Luckily cantrips like that didn't cause too much of a drain. Gently they tugged him up. Rook couldn't carry the thief, but they were the right height to make for a decent enough crutch to get the man out of the blast radius. "Fool. Fooled to be damned."

64 + 10 = 74 [ Success ]
(Roll) Don't Trip

[ 15 / 18 ]​

 

30 HP

MAX HP

60 EN

MAX EN

What had even happened? Rein wasn't quite sure, one moment he was fighting on a tower, the next he was plummeting to the ground. He had used his wind mastery to help with the fall, but as he hit the courtyard, he heard a loud crunch and everything had gone black. When he had awoken, he found that he had been thrown into a moat. Apparently, someone thought he was dead. Pushing himself up he climbed the wall following the army of elves that were storming the castle. He caught glances of Merkaba and a few others with them; it had seemed they had swapped sides. Rein wasn't sure why, but in the end, it didn't really matter. Soon he was instructed with a task of carrying one of the large barrels down the stairs. Rein simply laughed and kicked the thing with his foot, surprisingly it didn't explode when it fell, but it did activate a few traps that did send Rein flying backward dazed.

9 + 15 = 24 (Failure)
(Roll) Don't Trip

15 / 16​

 

30 HP

MAX HP

60 EN

MAX EN

Somehow, Garta had made a total noob mistake. He'd wandered off the road a little bit, and stumbled his way up to a besieged castle. This sort of thing wasn't too abnormal, so he decided to investigate further before he decided whether or not to get involved. However, upon arrival, he was just given a barrel of some strange substance and told to carry it. Not thinking twice about the simple task, Garta meandered his way up the steps to the second floor. He saw a misty green cloud around his ankles, but didn't really think anything of it. Then, he realized it was draining his HP, and he panicked.

Picking up the pace a fair bit, the inexperience Garta made a mad dash for the stairs leading to the third floor, only for his feet to be taken out from under him. He landed on his back with an 'OOOF!', the barrel pinning him to the floor. Apparently though, he was not just on the floor, Garta was doubly surprised when the section of floor he was on, flipped around, dropping him on a small slanted piece of stone that tumbled him down a hidden section of the castle, and rolling him through the dirt, right back where he'd started. The man who'd given him a barrel looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Heheh, I think I dropped my barrel... woops." Garta offered as an explanation, his health bar nearly depleted, and his shame unbearable. He was normal not the sucker type, but he'd been having so much fun exploring the game, he forgot to look out for real danger.

24 + 0 = 24 (Failure)
(Roll) Don't Trip

15 / 16​

 

30 HP

MAX orange HP

60 EN

MAX EN

Claire frowned as she hung back, eyes darting this way and that as she took in the overabundance of traps before her. There had to be some way of getting through safely; there was confirmation that all they needed was one last barrel. That meant other people had done it before, and they must have found a route through the pressure plates and tripwires and spikes.

Perhaps through there, in the burnt out patch on the ground? But no, arrows tipped with flames periodically shot through. Maybe someone else would be able to make it through in the pause between volleys, but Claire would be too burdened by the barrel to move quickly enough. But the floor was jagged and unstable to the left, and trying to go through that path might jostle the contents of the barrel too heavily. The alchemists hadn't been very forthcoming about how volatile this explosive was and Claire couldn't see any of them around to ask.

So it would have to be through the middle. She could see puddles of tar waiting to catch unruly feet, the faint glimmer of light off a barely-visible tripwire--and surely there were more than just the one, waiting to be triggered--and-

and...

and...

Ugh, Claire's head was killing her. When she raised a hand to hold her forehead, she found it missing her face entirely, trying to press against thin air. That wasn't right. She should know where her body was. She struggled to her feet, but her balance didn't seem to agree with the motion. It was only dumb luck that kept her upright as one of her flailing arms connected with the wall and she shoved her entire weight against it. And as the hand waved through the air, her brain registered the fact that there was a slight greenish tinge to the wind. What was it? Air wasn't green normally-

'Poison!'

Remembering the poison gas was the last push she needed to pull herself together. She stumbled out of the floor, dragging herself to the nearest window and taking a deep breath of fresh air. God, she couldn't stay in there any longer. She had to get out.

35 + 0 = 35 (Failure)
(Roll) Don't Trip

15 / 16​

 

30 HP

MAX orange HP

60 EN

MAX EN

As Kit entered the hall after saving all the animals she could, she decided to give some help towards the group. Because, y'know, why not help out? She didn't quite fully understand what was going on and whose side she was helping, but she was helping with something.

Unfortunately as soon as she arrived, she found herself becoming very sleeping and upon spotting barrels, she decided to go and take a quick nap on top of one. She might have gotten some bear traps or something stuck on her feet along the way, but they didn't even seem to hurt much, so after getting herself comfy on the barrel, she slept.

14 + 0 = 14 (Failure)
x

15 / 16​

 

30 HP

MAX HP

60 EN

MAX EN

The whole game just felt unreal. Amarie had played other VR Games before thanks to some shady connections she had throughout the internet, but the level of attention to detail was insane. Apparently, the gold locks was in a big war, and the way how things looked slowly started to get to her. There were bodies, the castle interior was half-broken and it appeared both wings had to go through a big shitstorm of problems. As Luca finally found the small group that she was assigned to support she noticed that they were in a room filled with traps, people and corpses that fell prey to the many types of hazards. The elf master crafter started explaining the plan to her though he was interrupted.

“WORRY NOT.” she exclaimed in a loud, confident tone “Success is SCIENCE.If you know the conditions, you get the result!” she puffed her chest. She didn’t need a thorough explanation if the goal was to get a barrel across a room, right?

She furrowed her brows, drawing the most attention and scrutiny she could muster from her mind, analyzing the room. “ TARGET! Teleport Stone! X axis maximum discrepancy, 14,7 cm! UNIT MOVEMENT ANGLE, 93º! DISTANCE; 52,1 meters! Speed; 0,2 meter per second! Acceptable movement error is 0,5 millimeters!”

“I CAN DO THIS!” Luca set out at the maximum speed she could, avoiding fire arrows, oil and tar traps laid before her path with grace and finesse only acquired through calculus!

Except she didn’t. The wannabe scientist worried too much about the traps, and forgot to calculate the distance between her feet on each step. She fell face first in a gas trap, inhaling so much of it to the point of hallucinating her success.

God knows what happened to the barrel.​

1 + 0 = 1 / FAILURE
(Roll) Don't Trip
15 / 16​

 

Support​

85 HP

MAX HP

22 EN

MAX EN

With the cacophony of destruction caused by the faulty barrel, Jack muttered a curse under his breath while freefalling into the underground. How someone could’ve been so careless was beyond him. Considering how literally none of the other players had resulted in such a catastrophic disaster, it took an inane amount of negligence to result in such! There was no time to gripe or argue however. Quickly setting his priorities, a brief flash of holy light dawned on himself and two other figures as he’d decisively begin repairing the damage done.

His eyes widening upon noticing the thread before his very eyes, his expression firmed while readying himself for the next encounter. Things had been going too smoothly thus far. This much of a detour was expected. Hopefully the other players were still up for a final challenge.

“Vanguards to the front! Hold the line and harass the beast! We’re going old school – tank and spank!”

@The Admiral @Astor Balthas @Jack Anders

[5+(3*4)+6]/2 = 12 Healing
(10 + 30)/2 = 20
Link to Roll
1180 / 1200
​