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 Posted: Thu Jan 29, 2015 1:46 pm
This Quest is for Ichil who is striving to become a Archer.
OOC
||. The quest prompt must be answered with a 2000 word reply (can be more).
||. Respond to the prompt given with an adventure of your own creation as long as it meets the requirements of the specific tasks.
||. NPCs may be used as long as they advance the quest in an interesting manner.
||. You cannot include any playable characters other than the quest taker.
||. Your responses will be graded on a letter grade scale. A grade of D or F will result in repeating the quest process, C or better will result in passing and possible rewards.
||. Questions about quests can be asked here.
IC
"I will be back with bow and arrow, mark my words,"
It wasn't long before Ichil's quest for such items had brought her back to the thick jungle landscape of Jauhar; the land still held many of the scars from the destruction her people wrought, and the people here harbored no love for her kind. However it was one of the best places to get the materials she needed to craft such a weapon; a bow with arrows, and surely there could be no better craftsman than in Jauhar, right?
As she waded through the thick brush of the jungle floor she happened upon a dying shifter clutching a most peculiar contraption: a crossbow. Between shallow breaths he seethed, “Great… First the bug people now you sand lovin- Gah!” He clutched his side as blood poured from his wound, “Listen, Our people haven’t necessarily gotten along in the past… How about you make amends for that.” He rolled the weapon from his lap and used his legs to scoot it closer, “Take it. Kill as many of those 'creatures' as you can, and…” He took a sharp breath and closed his eyes, “I’ll try… To start forgiving you Oban bastards for what you did.”
It was clear the man didn’t have much time. “I’ll… Stay with you as long as I can… Try to explain how it works… ” The shifter waved her over into cover before the next wave of attack came from the Dretch.
Quest Tasks
||. Ichil has found herself in a battle between the shifter community bordering Neued to the Northwest, and the mysterious bug creatures known to locals as the dretch.
||. This quest will test her tolerance of the people of Tendaji, as well as give her the knowledge of a crossbow, its pros and cons, to help her in her decision between a bow and crossbow.
||. Ichil should get the basics on the use of a crossbow from the dying shifter.
||. Through combat with the dretch she should be able to develop a better understanding of the weapon; both its pros and cons.
||. The shifter male with her is still very upset with events that took place in the war and will harbor ill will toward her people, but he also understands that she is his only hope of driving off the invading dretch and saving his village. The shifter should be portrayed in a somewhat racist light toward her people, but still civil.
||. The survival of the shifter is not a priority, but should he live Ichil will have to assist him in returning to his village where she will receive the crossbow as a gift for saving the shifter and the small village; should he die she is also free to keep the crossbow and may handle his death how she sees fit.
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Posted: Sat Jan 31, 2015 11:59 am
It had been two days since Ichil had escaped her family's estate in search of a weapon smith and an archer to assist her in her goal. She held a single-minded determination to make good on her written promise. She would return with a weapon and some training, her father be damned. Would she be disowned for her insolence? Would she be cast off the limbs of the family tree and banished to the common life by a man entirely finished with her disobedience? Ichil... didn't think so, but she didn't really care, either. The citizens of Oba had it so much better than the nobility. There were no boring parties to attend, no rules and restrictions as per who you saw or danced with. Sure, she had no real marketable skills to support herself, but if it was to come down to that the young Oban was certain she could do it, somehow.
The warning she had left in her room was perhaps a little too apt. She was setting out to become an archer and that was that. Her father would be sending his cronies to every smith and trainer in Oba and she would undoubtedly be found in a couple of days if she managed to hide well. She was sure that Oban craftsmen were just as apt as any other, but it would be dangerous to remain within the cities of Oba with her father well-prepared to drag her back kicking and screaming like he always did. There were rumors of another place, though, where bows and arrows stood as the most common weapons with which to hunt; where green-skinned women leaped through the jungle and homes were built high in mighty trees. Her best chance lay in Jauhar, which was to say that her chances weren't very good. Her people had rumbled into Jauhar with roaring janarim and glinting swords, burned and raided their villages and kidnapped their people. Even Ichil had taken part, her head in the clouds with the Oban victory, and taken one of the green-skinned women into camp with the princess, then just a lady. Certainly she would not be well-accepted if not for her own actions than for the actions of her kin, and their features were different enough that she doubted she could pass for some other sort of Earthling. She wouldn't want to, though. Even with the battles, with seeing their prisoners of war and the way they were treated, she was proud to be Oban. Not everyone was an idiot. It had just probably seemed like it from the outside.
Fear was thrumming in the girl's chest as she waded through the thick underbrush. The trees were thicker here than she remembered, and the light did not reach the ground so much as she had imagined. One could not find a path more different from Oba, and that was not the least of it. Ichil constantly worried that she would be found by some hunting party or overtaken on the outskirts of a settlement and become a prisoner again. Her father may never find her here and would be all the angrier if he had to knock heads to free her. Determination and pride prodded her from the back of her mind, though. Keep going, you can do it. Take it one step at a time, they said. So each time she had to stop for water or to consume a bit of the bread and jerky she had purchased in the last settlement she took a few moments to compose herself. If she didn't find a city within the next day she might simply have to head back and find somewhere closer to home. That meant she still had a day of travel ahead of her, though, and she pushed aside another clinging bush to slip through the foliage.
Her boots moved over fallen leaves to find them only rustling, not dry and crackling as she had expected. In fact, when she tripped it was a strangely spongy landing if you didn't consider the thorns and rocks that threatened from the ground. Her hands were only slightly marred, one knuckle barely bleeding, and she was glad that she had worn sleeves and a cloak to conceal her identity. As it turned out, Jauhar was no pleasant park but a threatening sort of setting. It was pure luck that she hadn't run into anything feral that had decided to try and make her a midday meal. A settlement would be welcome, though. In fact, any sort of person would be nice to run across whether or not they felt bitter against her people. Besides, where there was people there were cities and where there were cities were certainly-- wait.
There was a dark shape lying low in the underbrush. It was too solid to be any shadow and Ichil was suddenly deeply aware that she was armed with only a small blade for her own protection. Whatever it was, this thing was her size or bigger and that posed a serious threat. Ichil froze, just watching for a moment, and then it moved. A small bit of the shape fell back against the trunk of a tree and she could make out a nose and glistening eyes. A person! It was a person! She approached quickly, not thinking that her sounds might draw an enemy, and peered down at what turned out to be a man, but it was not an Oban. This man's skin was not dark but black, and blue gems stood out on his arms. He was one of a race of Shifters, people whose skin changed color depending upon the time of day. Ichil only knew because there had been Shifters in the party that had taken her and her friends as captives. This one, luckily, was not so large. She was unsure what to do. Should she take a break to help the man or leave him for the gods to reckon with? The shock in her system wasn't allowing for any coherent thought.
“Great… First the bug people now you sand lovin- Gah!” His breaths were shallow and pained, and he clutched at his side where blood ran steadily from a fresh wound. She had seen only a handful of grievous injuries so openly displayed and her stomach did a little turn. Still she found no words. “Listen, Our people haven’t necessarily gotten along in the past… How about you make amends for that.” His breath caught and he grimaced as he let go of the odd contraption he was holding and toed it closer to Ichil. "Take it. Kill as many of those 'creatures' as you can, and.." He paused, drawing another pained breath, "I'll try... To start forgiving you Oban bastards for what you did." His eyes closed.“I’ll… Stay with you as long as I can… Try to explain how it works… ”
It was these words that drew Ichil from her stupor. As long as he could? This man was dying, flayed by some beast or another and entirely aware of his own mortality. Rebel or not, she couldn't live with herself knowing she had left someone to die. For the moment she ignored his wishes, not knowing how to even approach the machine he was offering, and crouched beside him.
"Here, let me help you," she said, opening her rucksack to try and find something to bandage the wound with. She had not thought to bring any salve with her on the trip as she hadn't planned on needing it, but now here they were.
"No!" the man said as strongly as he appeared able to. He shoved Ichil's hands.
"Just let me--"
"Stupid little-- if those things--" his breath caught again, "If those things come back they'll attack the village. Try and work with me, here. Take it." Ichil paused, lifting her hands and looking toward the contraption. "Take it."
What in the world was coming that was so dangerous it could threaten a village? She certainly didn't want to be here when they came, whatever they were. The Shifter's insistent tone worried her. So that thing, it was a weapon? She hesitantly laid her hands on it and felt its solid weight, wood and metal and various bits that stuck out beyond the body of the thing. She couldn't make heads or tails of it, save that there was a string stretched across two long arms. If he expected her to be able to use this mad-mage cobbled together mess then he had another thing coming.
The man shifted and immediately regretted it, grimacing and gripping his side. "Good. Now grab my arrows." He nodded toward a random array of arrows lying on the ground nearby. They seemed to have fallen from a fair height and all faced approximately the same direction. How odd, that she should have come for a bow and arrows and found a man with some thing and arrows instead. Ichil noticed that the foliage around them had been stomped flat. Had there been a battle here? Her eyes swept the area and landed on a jumble of stones, or at least her mind had explained it to her as stones. There were little shimmering orbs here and there, and a branch that looked quite like a clawed... hand...
The girl cried out and clutched the machine to her, unwittingly aiming it unloaded toward her own chin. What was that thing?! It looked to be an insect, but tall and built like a person! Bug people?! Was this what was coming? Her eyes flickered to a swatch of black and blue, what remained of some unarmed soldier fallen in battle, their cloak deeply charred where it concealed their body.
"Shh!" the fallen man urged, and then groaned, "Just... get the arrows."
Now trembling, Ichil bent and collected the arrows in one hand, then turned quickly to the Shifter. There was fear in her eyes.
"Now, you see that... that arm sticking up? No, not that one the-- tchh the one in the middle. That one. Pull it down."
Her hands had roamed over the machine, first to one end of the bow-like structure at its end and then to the sturdy lever that stuck up at its center. Push it down? She tried to do it with one hand stuffed full of arrows and found that it would only go so far. She leaned and braced the machine against the jungle floor, and with that help was able to pull the latch flat with a satisfying click.
"The strong, take the-- an arrow. Put the groove on the string."
Ichil lifted the contraption and pulled an arrow back against the strong the lever had pulled taut.
"Don't shoot me, you idiot. They'll be back. Take out as many as... as many as you can. His breaths had started to come in short gasps, and Ichil felt tears welling in her eyes. No, he couldn't die! He couldn't leave here here to fight those things! He had to--!
She could hear it, the sound of crashing similar to that she had made in wandering through the wood. This was faster, though, and coming their way. A strange shrill squeal pierced through the din and Ichil couldn't help but whimper.
"You put it up to your-- hold it like--" The man huffed and grimaced, and then lifted his arms in an odd position. His left went palm-up as if holding some object and the second further back, gripping a stock. They dropped quickly in his weakened state and he pulled a pained expression. Ichil had to further inspect the weapon to understand it, and when she achieved that position the string flung forth silently. She had nudged a little button, a trigger. By the gods, it was a bow! Well, it was a bow in a way. The girl didn't have much time to marvel at its ingenious design, though. She braced it against the ground, nocked an arrow into position, and raised it. She pointed it out toward the direction of the sound, her knees shaking but her arms taut with adrenaline and determination. She could run now or fight. If she ran, she might still die and she would be leaving this Shifter to a terrible fate, perhaps one worse than bleeding to death against the trunk of a tree in the middle of the jungle. If she fought, she might make it... they both might make it even if the man's voice was growing progressively weaker with each word he spoke.
The first Dretch emerged as a brownish shape against the green of the woods. It carried two large blades and was dressed in only a cloak, presumably as its terrible exterior was enough armor. Was such a piddly little thing going to be able to wound such a terrible creature?! Well, she didn't have much of a choice, did she? With a little grunt, Ichil pressed the trigger and felt the strength of the weapon as an arrow was sent hurtling through the air. There was a sickening thump when it hit home and actually managed to pierce through the chitinous chestplate of the beast. It stumbled, wounded, and gripped the arrow, but that was all she saw as she tilted the bow and pulled the lever again, pushing another arrow into the string and letting it fly. In the creature's hunched position, the arrow pierced its large head and it went toppling to the dirt. From beside it came two others, unarmed and chittering. One raised its hands as if to cast a spell and Ichil was still bent when a burst of flame rushed over her body, leaving behind it the smell of singed fabric. Her position seemed to have helped defend her core and face against the flash and she stood, releasing another arrow into the bug mage's chest. It stumbled and Ichil moved aside, dodging another burst of enemy flame. Her breath came in heavy pants. This was a young woman bred in wine and silk, not in the heat of battle. She whimpered as she loaded another arrow, now finding a rhythm within herself. She felt strong and somehow empowered by this weapon in her hands. It was a silent release heralded only by coming piercing destruction. The trembling in Ichil's limbs had stopped.
The next arrow missed, earning Ichil another blast of fire, this time searing her flesh as she stood, She cried out and aimed again, squinting through the smoke and flame, and struck the insect near the shoulder, giving her enough time at least to prepare another bolt to finish it off. Its friend seemed cautious to fight, and its hesitation earned it a bolt in the chest as well. It sputtered and wavered on its feet, unable to cast quite anything with an arrow lodged in its breast. In moments that felt like hours, it finally fell to the ground and went limp.
It seemed as if the great insects had not been expecting their victim to have any help the second time around. Ichil still had a handful of arrows and watched the treeline carefully. She scanned the vicinity with the crossbow raised but heard and saw nothing, at least not yet. They might yet have some time to escape! She turned for the first time since the onset of this battle to the man lying against the tree. His eyes were closed, and although his chest still rose and fell with weakened breath, he had turned a sickly shade of grey. Ichil rushed to him and grabbed his shoulder.
"Come, we have to go," she urged. His eyes flickered open but couldn't seem to focus on her face. He was dying. Ichil felt tears threaten again. "Come!"
The man barely reacted, murmuring something unintelligible. Impulsive she bent and put herself beneath his arm, trying to heft this weight with the strength of her back. Some must have twisted in a bad way, though, as the man shouted and suddenly pulled a foot beneath himself, supporting some portion of his own weight. Hope bubbled in Ichil's heart.
"Yes, yes! Where is your village?" she asked. The man was just breathing heavily, his body stained with blood, and did not react. Ichil dug a knuckle into his side above the wound, and he cried out again. "Which way?!"
Undoubtedly the man was a bit annoyed when he threw out a hand with a limp finger pointed out toward the foliage. That was enough for her, even if his health was drawing on his ability to reason. It was some order, at least. If he was wrong, then they got lost and fell, but she had to try! With him wrapped around her shoulder, she began to pull in the direction he had gestured. The man's legs were heavy, but the cooperated to a certain point like a heavily inebriated man being led home. Ichil had admittedly only dealt with a few of those, but at least he was some help. Through a corpse of trees she found a dirt path pounded smooth by years of use. Should she head east or west? She chose randomly and continued, stumbling and falling once with the man but forcing them both back to their feet.
Then she thought she heard them, people not far off. It was not the chittering and buzzing of the bug-mages but true voices.. She could not make out what they were saying, but she filled her chest with breath and called out to them.
"Help!" she cried, "Please, help!"
There came another great crashing and fear gripped Ichil again. Perhaps not the bug mages but their allies had found them again, and she had let them straight to her! She tensed as the sounds grew nearer, and then from the brush burst three more Shifters, one armed with a bow, one with a sword, and one with nothing at all. The swordsman drew his weapon and glared at the young Oban. Ichil knew instantly what it must have all looked like. They thought she'd done it.
"State your business. Are you an ally of the Dretch?"
Ichil shook her head. "No!"
At least the Shifters seemed to pause to consider her answer for a moment. Help came in the form on a familiar voice, now rasping and nearly gone. The man she had carried with her shook his head in an odd, lolling fashion. "No," he said. "She killed them." He swallowed and wavered and the unarmed young archer came to his comrade and released the weight from Ichil's back and she turned to help him lower her companion to the ground. The mage, or a healer, she thought, as the young man knelt beside the wounded and lifted his hand amidst a swarm of blue light. She wanted to ask if he would be alright, but the Shifters felt cold. She couldn't blame them. Her people had done something terrible and bitterness still remained on both ends of the sword. She only sighed as the adrenaline began to drain from her system and released the crossbow from her grip, laying it by her companion's hand. Ichil began to stand, but suddely the fallen man spoke.
"No, take it," he whispered, offering a ghost of a smile beneath half-lidded eyes. The healer had spread his hand over the man's wound, and he seemed oddly at peace. "Take it."
Ichil only looked to him curiously, and he nudged it toward her again, this time with a weak hand.
"Take it," he insisted, then took a sudden breath that caught in his chest. He winced and continued. "I guess you're not so bad," he said, and it caused Ichil to smile. It was a backward statement, but the closest he had come to a compliment since they had met. "Take it."
The young Oban knelt again and took the contraption from the ground. It would be useful to protect herself in this unforgiving jungle. She had grown attached to the idea of such a weapon, silent and swift. It took a while to load, sure, but she was positive it wasn't meant for especially close combat. It did not require all that much strength, either, which was good considering her lack of training. ...well, this man had sort of trained her, hadn't he?
"Thank you," she said, touching the man's hand. He allowed it and closed his eyes. "Thank you," he parroted back. As Ichil stood, the one who had threatened her offered a respectful nod. She was not welcome, she knew, but they were at least grateful for her help. She returned the gesture and turned not to travel deeper into Jauhar, but to retrieve her travel bag and begin the trek home. She felt a warmth and a wholeness as she carried the bow and tucked away the arrows. Longbows be damned, elegance was no replacement for something like this.
[ word count: 3539 ]
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Posted: Sat Jan 31, 2015 12:45 pm
Ichil's quest is finished! [ I had so much fun!! <3 ]
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 11:26 am
Class Quest Result
Pass!
Ichil has passed and received a rank of Archer!
Congratulations Ichil!
grasshopper pie Ichil may choose 1 shop item (not including fairgrounds) as a reward for her quest. PM Suhuba with your choice.
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