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 Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:50 pm
Today we're getting a crash course in rolling to accomplish skills! To complete this prompt, you will go about it like so. Dave You've come to a river, nearby is a shaggy ol' Mole with a boat and oar... but perhaps you can swim it... OptionsFord the river! (body) (Difficulty: 16) Talk to mole into giving you a free ride! (Soul) (Difficulty: 14) Search for an alternative route!(Mind) (Difficulty: 12) In case of success: You reach the other side! In case of failure: You become swept up in the currents! Step one: Pick a option and make a post rolling a 20 sided dice. Add the ability score of the chosen option. Step two: Add the chosen score to the roll and pair it up to the difficulty of the test. If your roll is equal to or greater than the score... you made it! Step three: Edit a response to the prompt in the post based on whether or not you succeeded! Note: There's two ways you can do this. You can write the introduction up to the moment of truth, then post and roll, and edit in the ending. Or roll first and write it then.Note 2: If you rolled a one... critical failure! If you rolled a 20... critical success! Write accordingly, trust me- it makes it much more fun :> Prompt coming in a pinch! You still have time to enter up until it's posted.
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:03 pm
*Urk* is it too late for me to post the stats? I've only just managed to drag myself home... Shewt, I need to learn how to read better - sorry!
I’m gonna wave a big red warning flag right now - I am terrible at simple addition, and it is quite possible that I’ll make a mistake somewhere along the lines. So… I’ve done everything in steps to hopefully catch my mistakes before they’re posted~
Kay, so, let’s do Haile Skystone the Woodhaven Fox first~ Haile’s a magic user who has absolutely no heart of physical confrontation at all, thus his incredible lack of body build. He’s tall and thin, but not muscular whatsoever~ Quote: Username: ShadowFox-Sama Name of Pet: Haile Skystone Number of Stonecrest beasties I currently own:: One!! *Snugs Quinn* Link to my Quest Post: Sama‘s Greedy Little Paws - Post 2~
Hmm… now, since there are no base stats for foxes… I think I’ll just go with what’s been suggested by Malhyanth and Teigra, if it’s alright.
Body 3
Mind 4
Soul 3
8 points to give away. Add 1 to body, 3 to mind, and 4 to soul, because Haile’s strengths are not physical…
Body 4
Mind 7
Soul 7
And since Hail will be living in Woodhaven, that’s +1 mind, -1 Body, leaving him with
Body 3
Mind 8
Soul 7
- - - -
Mikal Achefleur gets to come next. He does a fair bit of gardening (makes sense, as he’s a florist) and he’s incredibly vain about the way he looks, so his body strengths will be considerably nicer than Haile’s. He’s also incredibly charismatic, but when it comes to knowledge… well, he’s sort of a one trick dog.
Quote: Username: ShadowFox-Sama Name of Pet: Mikal Achefleur Number of Stonecrest beasties I currently own: Ooone~~~ Link to my Quest Post: Sama‘s Greedy Little Paws - Post 3~
Oh boy. A skunk. I’m not entirely sure where to get the base stats for him are, but I think I’ll use the ferrets as a sort of stand-in, since they are technically related~
Body 3
Mind 4
Soul 3
8 points to give away. Add 5 to body, 3 to soul, and he should look something like
Body 8
Mind 4
Soul 6
Mikal is a Fleuve skunk, so his bonuses/deficits will be -1 body, +1 soul. His final stats should be
Body 7
Mind 4
Soul 7
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:14 pm
First Round!
I hate morning lumber.
You awaken to the smell of damp earth and a throbbing headache. Water droplets slip from the ceiling in an irritatingly irregular pattern, smacking against a tree root near your feet.
As you struggle to regain a sense of awareness you realize you've never seen this place. The ceiling is low and before you are thick branches, cut and rooted vertically as to hamper your escape from this underground prison. Any belongings you had with you are gone and you feel as though a large bump has formed on the back of your noggin.
Nearby you can hear voices, squirrels no doubt, and they seem rather chuffed with themselves. " -and 'e says, you know what 'e says? 'e says to me, Farrah's gonna get him a promotion. Gonna let him have ol' Gene's spot. Head second-in-line-for-breakfast if you ask me. I don't want that on my head. I says to 'im, "Good! Glad ya caught em! When ye ain't caught nothin' next month it won't be my furry behind Ferrah's snacking on."
Sounds like you might be invited to supper, perhaps it would be best to excuse yourself before d'oeuvres are served.
Options!
- Try to bust down those bars! (body) (Difficulty: 13)
- Dig up a root and use it as a lever to bust out a bar! (mind) (Difficulty: 12)
- Perhaps if you ask one of those young squirrel types they'll let you out, they can't just feed you to some 'Ferrah'! How cruel! How unfair! Woe unto the world! (soul) (Difficulty: 14)
Success: You get out and head down the hall away from the voices!
Failure: You're still in there... and you've drawn some unwanted attention from the guard.
You have until Monday at 11am EST to reply! then the next round starts. I will not accept late entries *A*
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Moofuls rolled 1 20-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:23 pm
[[Nolan, Mind = 8
Takin' a ride on the FAILBOAT.]]
It was not at all unusual for Nolan to awake to an unfamiliar area. The young hare almost never spent two nights in the same place unless conditions were exceptionally ideal: an overabundance of food, for example, or a sheltered nook that was not already inhabited by some more permanent beast. But rarely, if ever, did he wake with a throbbing skull and a niggling sense that something was just wrong to surroundings that were so utterly unappealing .
For several moments he lay still in the middle of the dank cell, taking in his surroundings and attempting to make sense of the situation. The constant, off-beat drip drip as water droplets condensed and spilled from the ceiling grated against his aching head; the soft voices down the hall certainly didn't help matters, especially given the present subject of their conversation. His skin crawled in a most unnerving manner, and he felt his stomach turn over.
And then it clicked.
"Blood an' fire!" the young hare shouted, sitting bolt upright as if he had been stung and frantically searching the dimly lit cell with his eyes. His staff was gone. His staff was gone. The floor of the small cell was cold and bare save for a few protruding roots and a small puddle where the droplets from the ceiling were gradually accumulating. His staff was gone and he was useless and crippled and trapped in this dank little cell and absolutely furious. "Blisterin' wretches!" he snarled, shouting down the corridor with a shake of his fist. "Swamp-suckin' snaggle-toothed bush-tailed rotters! Cads!"
Oblivious to the footsteps already hurrying his direction, Nolan scrambled to his knees and scrambled for the bars of the cell, shoving and tugging--a technique that would have been absolutely useless even if he had had both legs to support his efforts, given his small size and slender form. He gave up the attempt almost immediately and, still jabbering away to himself about the utter disgrace to mammals that were squirrels, quickly searched the room once more for a tool, any tool, to aid in his escape.
He had two options, he quickly decided: He could either try to drown his captors in the millimeter deep puddle when they came for him, or bludgeon them with a tree root from the cell floor. The root was infinitely more probable, and certainly would be much more fulfilling in his momentary rage. He dug quickly, with forepaws skilled at the task from the general upkeep on his old Hallowmarl burrow, and soon had a chunk of root the length of his forearm unearthed. He twisted, bent, and snapped it free, and hurriedly turned his attention back to the wooden bars of the cell.
Nolan's attention span, unfortunately, was not at all up to his normal standards. The loss of his staff itched at the back of his mind, poking and prodding and constantly reminding him that he NEEDED the object to function properly, he NEEDED the staff to be whole again. With his squirrel captors still out of sight, Nolan plans to beat them bloody went out of mind as quickly as they had arrived; instead, he hunkered down beside the bars and wedged the slender root between them. As easily as it had been to snap the root free in the first place, it should have been no surprise when the root failed to budge the bar even the slightest bit and, instead, split in two with an unimpressive crack.
The young hare's balance wavered, and he flopped back on his rear, staring, bewildered, at the half of the root that he still held. And then a head appeared around the corner of the hallway. Without a second thought and with a surprising level of accuracy given his current state, Nolan hurled the broken root through the bars directly for his chosen target, shouting, "Give me back m' bleedin' STAFF, brushtail!"
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Scaramouche Fandango rolled 1 20-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:25 pm
TERRIBLE: 9+6=15= I AM THE BEST LIAR IN EXISTENCE
R-no. That was not his name- TERRIBLE woke up, head feeling like the ground must after the annual spring Dance of the Jovial Badger, which didn’t involve so much jollity as it did terrifying aggression and testosterone.
This was abhorrent, appalling, atrocious, awful, beastly, desperate, dire, disastrous,, dreadful, fearful, frightful, ghastly, harrowing, hideous, horrid, horrifying, loathsome, monstrous, odious, petrifying, revolting, rotten, , shocking, unfortunate, unnerving, unpleasant, unwelcome, vile, TERRIBLE! This was one of the worst things that had happened to him this week and he wasn’t going to stand for it! Not him! His first instinct was to find a sword and smash his way to freedom. The TERRIBLE people knew from songs and stories would fight his way out of this. But the real TERRIBLE knew that no such bird existed. However, he was a good liar. He could talk his way out of this. Flapping his wings up and down the root bars of his cell, he raised a ruckus until the guards came over to tell him to shut the hell up.
“Release me from this prison and I won’t kill you where you stand!”
“No way. You ain’t worth what’d happen to us. Sorry.”
“Release me from this prison and I won’t kill you where you stand!”
“And how’re you gonna do that?” The biggest squirrel shook two of the bars. “These ain’t goin’ anywhere in a hurry, pal.”
“Release me from this prison and I won’t kill you where you stand!”
“Frankly, I’d like to see you try. You’re a scrawny thing if I’ve ever seen one.”
TERRIBLE was taken aback. What was the point of cultivating a legend if people didn’t bend to your every will? “Don’t you know who I am?”
“...no.”
‘
Wut.
Hadn’t EVERYBODY heard of TERRIBLE? He was the folk hero of our times! The most magnificent male! The dashingest dasher who ever dashed! The man of the hour, the toast of the trees, the c**k of the walk! He was the bird that was the word. Everybody knew that the bird was the word! Except, clearly, these backwoods tree rats.
“WELL THEN,” TERRIBLE shouted. “Let me tell you. My legend began in the twelfth week of my life, which when, as just a young thing, a terrible plague of serpents attacked Sunhedge.”
“Wait, Sunhedge? The Sunhedge?”
“They were terrifyingly audacious snakes.”
“My family’s from Sunhedge! And I know I’m older than you, pal.
TERRIBLE laughed nervously. “Sunhedge is a big place. You might not have known- my family lives in the Tree, you see, and they didn’t want to tell anybody for fear of destroying society as we know it.”
The squirrel raised his eyebrows angrily and began to protest, but TERRIBLE wasn’t going to let that happen. He launched himself into a tale that was part (in our terms) Conan, Robin Hood, and Jesus. He rattled on about his adventures, all entirely imaginary, but still, as he thought, entertaining. That was the point of a legend, right? He got so wrapped up in his own tale that he forgot to notice the guards.
“...and THEN fifty badgers surrounded me, tonked me on the head, and threw me in here. So as you can see, I’m doing you a favor by letting you let me go.
Silence.
He looked down to discover that all three squirrels were dozing against a wall.
“They must have been so impressed, they passed out.” With that, TERRIBLE slipped through the bars, as he just realized he could have done the whole time, and headed down the hallway the opposite way from whence the squirrels came.
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Scaramouche Fandango rolled 1 20-sided dice:
16
Total: 16 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:26 pm
René: 8+16=24=MAN those are some easily-charmed squirrels.
This situation was entirely unacceptable.
For one thing, it was dark. René did not like the dark. Not at all. It wasn't like he was afraid of the dark, but he was certainly uncomfortable with it. For another, it seemed as though he'd been forced into some kind of bondage by a person or persons unknown. Imprisonment was not a pleasant state of being, not at all. Not one he enjoyed. While he had no doubt that he was being held for ransom, Father could be deucedly slow about paying for his son's problems. Then those squirrely chaps had mentioned something about being eaten. That might just have been a rodent problem- after all, he was a cat. Cats didn't have predators- they are predators. But certain creatures might not be fully aware of the food chain and get all uppity. He didn't want to have to deliver a lecture- those were so dreadfully dull. No, that wouldn't do at all. And perhaps the most egregious grievance of all: It was dirty. Flecks of earth were falling on his head and into the threads of his brocaded garmentry. His fur was mussed- he needed a comb, pronto. Did he even want to think about the state of his typically oiled and curled whiskers? Probably not. There was no place to sit down, other than the filthy dirt floor of his cell, no mirror to adjust himself in, no help- that last bit was really insulting, to not even provide him with a concierge or sommellier! No, this situation would not do and it was up to him to get himself out of it.
Could he break the bars? Unlikely. Highly unlikely.
Could he charm a guard? Definitely.
He couldn't really see them, but he could definitely hear some squirrels- probably the underlings of whoever had captured him, squirrels weren't really in the hostage-taking business and certainly not in the people-eating business. Excellent. He whistled sharply and called to the gloom. "I say! Tree-fellow!" He was certain that in no short time, one or more of the creatures would approach him, and soon enough, one did.
"Come closer, come closer!" the golden cat wheedled. "I have something important to tell you!"
As the squirrel stepped closer, René put a paw around his shoulders.
“My father,” he said, stage-whispering into the squirrel’s ear, “is rich. Very rich. And I’m his only son.”
The squirrel looked at him flatly. Certainly they heard this sort of thing all the time. René knew he’d just have to try a little harder to convince them. “And as my father’s only son, he imparts some of his wealth onto me from time to time. Look here,” he said, reaching into his waistcoat’s pocket. “See?” The golden cat pulled out a handful of nuts. He could see them reflected in the squirrels’ shiny eyes. Yes, the rodent must be hungry. Anybody would be hungry, trapped down here for that long. "All these and more will be yours- if you help me out of here. You can even come with me to my father's territory, where you can- oh, thank you," he said, his sales pitch voice deflating as the squirrel let him out. "Right, then, let's be on our way!" This was most excellent- not only had he gotten loose, but he'd acquired a guide!
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musicaloner7 rolled 1 20-sided dice:
10
Total: 10 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:31 pm
{ I don't think I understand this fully... u u;
Khrest; soul 1o+1o....success! }
Dave edit which you can erase: Add your soul score to your roll and see if you beat the difficulty for the soul option :> Write your response accordingly.
Thank you Dave. cx <3 exactly what I was pondering.
God dang... what the... Coughing lightly, his throat dry and raspy from the lack of keeping it moisturized with the natural bodily function of swallowing spit, the feline grit his teeth hard, forcing down a hard gulp. It made him cough further though, his paws clutching the damp earth underneath them. Wait....
Olive green eyes began to peel open, vision blurred from being closed for what seemed like eternity now!
Where... what.... Wincing, inhaling sharply, the feline groaned again as a paw lifted to place at his head just above a squinted eye. Why did his head hurt so much. It felt like he'd been whapped in the head by a log! Tail tip flicking as the pain throbbed, Khrest flicked an ear as voices met them. But as he began to try and lift himself up, he grunted once his head met the short ceiling. It seemed things just kept getting worse and worse... not to mention he'd lost his instrument of choice! Those things weren't easy to come by! ...and... he was naked now! What sick freak stripped me down! ... hopefully it was a pretty female..
Looking down at himself in a dazed state, he slowly turned his attention back to those irritating broken voices. He really didn't try to understand what they were saying, but was more interested in getting the heck out of this place. He was starting to get hungry himself...
Slowly crawling towards the bars that kept him with held, the feline's lazily half-lidded eyes blinked lethargically as he spied the little group of minions chatting. Doing his best to ignore the pounding drum in his head, he gave a wry grin and propped his head up on a paw, "Heya fella's... ya know... you guys seem a little bored... at least your conversation's soundin` borin`...
you guys seem like ya'd like a nice sea jaunty tune.. how's about it, hm?
One of the squirrels stopped mid-sentence to look at their prisoner, smirking slightly, "Nah`t too bored..." glances to his comrades, and crosses his arms, "Buh a bit.. what's it too ya, eh?"
Smirking, he gave a wide grin, "Ever heard.... 'Fish King `O Maly'? I'm sure ya have.. I betcha don't know the dance to go along with it.." flicks his tail as he watches them intently.
Flicking an ear, they all seemed to perk up, "A dance? `Oi always heard theh wasn't one!" the second grunt replied, shock on all of their faces.
Smirking slightly, "Of course! what's a song like that without a dance to accompany! you guys really don't know it..." exhales in an exaggerated manner, "Alright, alright.. I'll show ya how so ya don't make fools of yourselves in front of some girls at a pub, or somethin`.."
Puffing up a bit, the larger of the trio marched over, "Oi wouldn't make a fool `o meself in front of anyone! lotsa talk for a prisoner, ya got!"
"Oh yeah? Then lemme outta here and show me otherwise." the feline replied slyly, watching him in amusement, a confident and cool expression along his face.
With a huff, and frown, the squirrel was easily persuaded, and began dislodging the fitted bars. Finally letting the cat out, he yanked him by the arm, and drug the battered feline to the rest of the gang, "dance ye cat!" he demanded, arms crossing again.
Once released, Khrest stood to his full size, and stretched himself out, cracking a few bones here and there. Arching his back, flexing his tail, he sighed softly. Felt good to move again! Once he'd finished the little ritual, he cleared his throat, and placed a paw back to his ringing head. But, with a bit of force and internal coaxing, he started to belt out the tune, but at a slower tempo to perform the dance moves as well. His movement's were mixed with a legato and staccato fashion, weaving in and out. It didn't take long for the squirrels to start and pick up on the steps, and mimic Khrest with a rather proud and excited look on their faces. Even started to sing along with the bard!
Laughs easily started to let loose as the session continued, the cat starting to maneuver the squirrels to all face one another, to deter the attention from himself. He eventually stopped moving, and just watched the three of them dance like a couple of drunken fools... doing his best not to snicker. Giving encouraging cheers from time to time, seeing how entranced they all were with their new discovery, Khrest took the opportunity to slink off quietly, and make a run for it.
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ladyumbra rolled 1 20-sided dice:
15
Total: 15 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:35 pm
[Lanette, Mind = 7] ( 7 mind + 15 = 22 = success) As she woke up Lanette's head hurt worse than the time she'd ignored her mother's advice and gulped beakful after beakful of cold water to quench her thirst. Back then she had curled unto a little aching ball of pain that was not at all comforted by the amused "I told you so" of her mother. She'd been perfectly safe in their family burrow though and the cold induced agony had ended eventually. Now though the owl's large yellow eyes told her that this place, while underground like her home, was nowhere she'd ever been before. It was also too cold, the Hallow had few cold places unless you went deep into it where glass work was done. Plus as her toes scratched irritatedly at the ground what they scraped against was true dirt and not the well packed sand of her desert home. As far as Lanette could tell she was both nowhere within the many tunnels of the Hallow and likely nowhere near it. Confused and still a bit disoriented by the pain in this back of her head Lanette hunkered down in a corner of the prison she'd found herself in and tried to think. Who would do this to her ? Oh sure she wasn't ignorant of the war going on between Stonecrest's tribes but she wasn't really involved. She was an artist not a fighter and while she had a good bit of magic on her side Lanette was never an aggressor . Maybe this was about that ugly looking shrew she'd painted the other day in Mossflower, Lanette mused, he certainly hadn't liked how his portrait had turned out, saying it was her job to make him look good if she wanted to be paid. The tiny brown and white owl ruffled her feathers angrily at the memory, the ******** nerve of that shrew asking her to compromise her artistic integrity because of his frankly undeserved vanity. Before Lanette could continue on too far with that train of thought she picked out the sound of voices with the sort of distinct accent that normally came from squirrels. Her eyes widened almost impossibly further and Lanette opened and closed her beak in silent protest as the nearby gossip session unfolded. This was not okay, Lanette did not want to be eaten! Not only did she want to live but really if they ate her then stonecrest would lose more than just another owl, it would lose her passion and the beauty she brought to the world with her art! There should be a rule about that, you don't attack healers working on battlegrounds and you don't eat those who beautify the world you live in. Too small and weak to be able to intimidate her captors or break down the thick lengths of branch that blocked her escape Lanette tried to think of another way out of her cell. Not that she was planning to just break out and flee though, oh no these squirrels had done more to piss Lanette off than just take her captive. They'd pinched her stuff as well and that she could not stand for, for the sake of her feather covered hide she'd not have time to retrieve all of it and that was a shame but at the very least she needed to locate and steal back her signature vial. The small glass tube held a special concoction of rattlesnake venom and blood that she used to sign all of her non glass wares work. It was far more valuable than the rest of her supplies combined both in personal and material worth so Lanette absolutely had to find it before she escaped. First though she had to actually break out! As she dug her toes into the ground in irritation one of Lanette's talons scraped against something that was not dirt. Immediately she leaned down to get a better look. If the Hallowmarian could have grinned she would have when the object in question turned out to be a bit of tree root she'd completely missed earlier. If she could get a good chunk of it up and broken off then perhaps she should jam it between the cell bars and use it to force one out of place. Lanette had seen something similar done before though admittedly it had been a slightly different situation, it was worth a shot though. As quietly as she could and always tilting her head this way and that to listen for the slightest sound of her captors approaching from any direction Lanette began to excavate the root. Once she had a decent sized chunk the owl girl used her talons and beak to seperate a large length of it from the rest of the living tree. It was a lot of work and sapped much of the diminutive being's energy. With everything silent from further down the hall Lanette moved onto the next phase of her plan. Hopping over to the gate she used her beak and to a small degree her wings to get the piece of root in place to make an effective lever. Tired as she was Lanette then applied as much pressure as she could throwing her full if miniscule weight into the effort until her target branch popped out of place. The minute it fell to the ground she dropped her lever, tucked her wings to her body and began to push through the opening she'd made. Small as she was it was still a tight squeeze for Lanette but she made it through the opening suffering only some brief pressure on her wings. She swiveled her head around again listening for the sound of more squirrel voices or any movement but detected only the group from before still the same distance away. Hoping her missing stuff wasn't in that direction Lanette picked up the fallen piece of root and began to scuttle down the tunnel in the opposite direction of the squirrels. Armed or not the little owl had no intention of fighting unless she absolutely had to.
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keti-bug rolled 1 20-sided dice:
19
Total: 19 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:35 pm
Emery ( He finally has a name c: ) - difficulty: 13 - body: 7 - roll: 19 - total: 26
win!
Emery groaned as he awoke dazed and confused, his head pounding. He sat up, looking around and trying to figure out where he was. He saw thick branches standing all around him and could hear voices near by. The voices helped him to recall a bit of what had happened. The last thing he remembered was... challenging a squirrel that had been trying to catch some other young critter. He had to protect the innocent after all, like Helix would. He'd been certain that he could take one stupid old squirrel, but apparently he couldn't. A frown came to his face as he thought, Helix coulda done it.
He then began to listen to what the other squirrels were saying. They, or at least one of them, was talking about dinner and someone named Farrah. He probably should have felt a bit of fear, not wanting to find out who Farrah was, but all he thought was, I could take him. Even though he hadn't been able to take the squirrel that captured him, he was confident that he was capable. The squirrel had just been lucky, that's all. He would prove it, too, by using his immense strength to break through the branches that were meant to keep him there.
Standing up, he reached for his sword only to find that it wasn't there. He looked down to see that his belt was missing as well and mumbled, "Good fer nuttin' fiefs." He then focused back on the bars. He could do this, even without his sword. He was strong, like Helix, and Helix could break any old branch easily, so so could he. He moved back as far as he could before running at the branches, throwing his whole body into them and breaking through one of them with ease. He then fell to the floor, doing a somersault before landing on his back and then looking back at his accomplishment with pride. It was more likely that the thick branches weren't actually as strong as they appeared or perhaps the ones that he hit had been a bit hollow, but he much preferred to belief that they had broken solely because of his strength.
He was tempted to gloat to the squirrels that they had been unable to keep him locked up, that he was too incredible to be caged, but he didn't have time for that. He needed to get out and possibly find his sword if he could. So, instead, he stuck his tongue out in the general direction of the squirrel voices before running down the hall away from them.
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Teigra rolled 1 20-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:35 pm
[Aegnor - Body: 9]
[FAIL]
---
Aegnor awoke with a sound somewhere between a groan and a snarl, slitted eyes opening to scan warily over the surroundings as he wondered why his head hurt so much. Of course, that only served to fuel his foul temper at awakening somewhere else other than his plush bed...
"Blistering, bald weasels!" he snapped, climbing to his feet. His sharp eyes shot towards the barred exit, ears twitching as he picked up on voices filtering down the hallway. He wasn't sure where he was yet, but how dare they (whomever the voices belonged to) even think of taking him prisoner in some tiny little cell like this?!? And using bars to keep him in? How insulting! They should have used stone!
With no other thought but getting out of here and teaching those little tree-rats a lesson, the large wildcat stalked towards the bars with the natural grace of a predator. He paused, only long enough to extend his fearsome claws, then began taking powerful swipes at the bars. His fury built, the more strikes he made, and soon, he was snarling and throwing his body against the bars, wrapping his paws around them and attempting to tear them apart.
Apparently, "more fury" seemed to be a semi-successful strategy as the bars began to crack, and as he gave another tug, one bar splintered and broke.
It also lodged a large shard of wood in the wildcat's bare paw.
"YEEOWRRR! Son of a bilge-eating, barnacle-bummed, grog-swilling searat!" The wildcat snarled and cursed, leaping about before calming enough to grab the splintered wood in his teeth and pull it cleanly from his paw.
Unfortunately, the noise seemed to have gotten the attention of the 'tree-rats' outside...
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Teigra rolled 1 20-sided dice:
14
Total: 14 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:36 pm
[Janika - Body: 8]
[SUCCESS]
---
The female wildcat had woken some time ago, and now paced restlessly back and forth in the small space, listening to the voices filter down the hall. The more she heard, the more anxious her movements became. She didn't know what a 'Farrah' was, but devil's claws if she was going to hang around to find out!
Forcing herself to focus on something more productive, she turned to examine the bars that blocked her freedom. After casting an analytical eye over the bars, then over the room, she turned to what she had on her. Not much, but it might help. Taking off a scarf, she wrapped the garment around her paws for protection. Satisfied with her work, she started tugging at the bars, then taking a few experimental jabs. Her punches grew more forceful, though she tried to keep quiet, not knowing how long she might be at this.
Apparently, not as long as she thought. The bars started splintering and a grin crossed her face, much as if she'd caught a baby bird. They'd underestimated the crafty cat and her strength, which was a tactic she'd employed more than once. No one expected the sneaky cat to be able to back up her threats of violence and destruction.
After some work, especially to make sure she cleared a hole large enough to get her feline form through without risk of injuring herself on the splintered bars, Janika practically purred with delight. Her escape route was clear! She gracefully slipped her form through the bars, glanced in the direction the voices were coming from, then decided that they weren't worth the energy or trouble, and instead loped lightly down the hall towards freedom.
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ShadowFox-Sama rolled 1 20-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:36 pm
Mind 8
[[ 8+4=12 o.o Cutting it a bit close...]]
Haile didn’t see any sense in cowering.
Then again, neither did he think it proper to go about yelling and smashing the place to bits. It was dark and damp, more than cramped, and terribly hopeless, but preserving his life was most important right now - he had no magic tome with him, and his pockets were empty, but strangely enough… he was pretty calm. His first reaction upon realizing the severity of his situation was to sit up, if not a bit painstakingly, and settle in a little corner where it seemed the ceiling did not leak so badly; he folded his back legs underneath himself, closed his eyes, and pressed his paws tenderly to the welt (now crusted over) that had been professionally laid into his forehead. Such a terrible headache, what an incredibly cruel migrane… but he could find focus through it, if he tried.
He breathed softly, sat completely still. Pat, pat-pat, patter pat… pat-TUNK. Water, dribbling near his footpaws, was - for a great stretch of time - the only thing he heard. Steady, not steady - tempered, but irregular - over and over, a bit irksome, but nothing to be particularly bothered over. No, no, not at all. Breathing in, exhaling softly, calm.
He was more than pleased, however, when the quiet was interrupted by harsh, quick young voices. “- and ‘e says… ”
His ears funneled forward slowly, and he opened just a sliver of one eye. He could see faint shadows, perhaps, and could feel the way of other beasts being particularly well-up with themselves, speaking more than loud enough for him to catch the reason for his strange imprisonment. Farrah… hmm. Farrah. Not a name he was particularly familiar with, but then, if it pleased to eat a fox - perhaps he need not get acquainted.
Haile knew his strengths and his weaknesses; and, no matter how few squirrels there happened to be gathered outside his small prison, he knew he was no match for them if things came to blows. He was, so to speak, not one of great physical gifts… but he had a mind sharp as any sword and wits as quick as any arrow, and that was where he would triumph. He was quiet and careful, and knew how to take his time - which would be necessary, if he was going to break himself out as inconspicuously as possible. He considered the construction of his prison, noting that the bars were just a smidge too thick for him to try and pry apart himself… but perhaps with a little bit of help from a root…
Well, there were plenty of those. By his footpaws there lay a most likely candidate, pinging little droplets of water about as they fell, and wiggling his toes underneath he began the laborious work of quietly freeing it from the mud. He couldn’t make a sound, but he was understandably in a hurry to have it in his paws, where it could be of most use.
It was a thick-enough root to be used as a lever, but again, Haile was not much for arm strength. Once freed from the mud he tucked it between the thinnest bars, not too far in but well enough that it wouldn’t slip; the further away from the centre of the root he placed the bars, the less force it would take for him to push them apart… fulcrum and distance, numbers and mathematics…
He gave the root a push, and the bars shifted. He twisted it about, pushed it again, and a gap began to form.
But it was slow going, as even with an advantage… he still wasn’t the strongest of beasts. He did manage a gap big enough for him to pull himself through, but he snagged several furs in the process - ah, well, it was better than being eaten by a farrah. He was free from his prison, but still, he hadn’t the foggiest idea which way to go from there.
Away from the voices of course, but that, really, was only a start.
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Teigra rolled 1 20-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:37 pm
[Samantha - Body: 9]
[SUCCESS]
---
Samantha was not happy.
She scowled at the cage bars on the door, ears twitching lightly as she focused on the voices beyond. Nope, this was not a happy situation. She really didn't intend to hang around and find out what a 'Farrah' was. After this 'hospitable welcome,' she didn't feel like being particularly sociable.
Crouching, balancing delicately on her paw pads, she tilted her head and studied the bars on the door. Her bushy tail waved back and forth behind her, constantly making slight adjustments to her balance. Well, it didn't look like the best construction she'd ever seen. She rose to her full height, then took a half-step back from the door. Suddenly, she dropped to a crouch and launched her right leg into a powerful, sideways kick at the bars. Her footpaw connected solidly with one bar, and she pulled it back to take aim and launch another attack. Again! Again! Again!
One bar would splinter with a crack, and she'd adjust her aim for the next one. As the bars gave way to her powerful kicks, the grin slowly spread over her maw. Canines flashing in the light, she stifled a soft chuckle as she snapped one last bar. She took a moment, to reach out with her front paws and pull the broken bars loose, ensuring she had a hole of decent size broken in the barrier. Then, she took a couple steps back, dashed forwards, and dove headfirst through the hole. She tucked into a roll on the other side, then came up on her paws, already moving away from the voices.
Take that, you walloping tree-hoppers! The fox's thoughts were jubilant, as her paws padded almost soundlessly down the hallway. She wasn't sticking around to see if the cracking bars had caught anyone's attention.
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StarieMichie rolled 1 20-sided dice:
14
Total: 14 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:37 pm
Spot is going to use soul to talk his way out of this ( 14 + 4 = 18 ).
The world was a blur for a few minutes while Spot slowly came to. Whatever happened, must have happened hard because usually nothing could put a dent in his thick skull, especially one that hurt as much as this.
Out of more instinct and less because he wanted to, Spot reached into his pocket to grab his tobacco leaves so that he could roll a cigar and un-foggy his mind. "Hum, not in this pocket. Maybe I slipped it into the other one by accident..." he thought as the slow patting of the pockets sped up and then became frantic. Gone. His eyes went wide, and he wasn't groggy anymore. Spot was downright angry.
Not only had he been bashed in the head, but they took his smoking kit and his two lucky six-sided dice to boot. His pockets were completely empty. Those bastards.
His inner conflict about how he wanted to go about ripping everything to shreds (the current leading choice was to fillet the thief and roast him on a spigot, and then pair him with a fine red wine while a minstrel played soothing songs on his mandolin) was louder than the conversation going on down the hallway. Spot realized in hindsight that he really should have been listening more closely to find out what was going on. He seemed to have missed most of the conversation, but he did catch the last bit about being eaten.
He rubbed his paws over his eyes wearily, "What the hell? I'm supposed to be the one doing the eating. What carnivore eats other carnivores?"
"'Ay, I think our guest is awake!" one of the voices called out. Two squirrels padded over to the cage, but were smart enough to stay out of claw's reach. "Did Sleeping Beauty 'ere get 'is beauty rest?"
Spot snarled as the they laughed at him. This day was getting more annoying by the minute.
Since he clearly wasn't going to be able to force his way out of here, it was time for Spot to turn on the charm. "Say, you two weren't what I was expecting..."
One squirrel, apparently the smarter of the two, elbowed his companion to stop laughing. "An' wha's that supposed to mean?" he said as they both stared the badger down.
"What I mean is I wasn't expecting two squirrels that look as capable as you both do to be doing lowly grunt work. I was expecting to be greeted by some scruffy, unkempt types, but I do have to say that both of you look like more the leader-type and not the lackey."
"It was about time that someone noticed the work I put into my grooming," the second squirrel said before being elbowed in the ribs by his companion again.
"Quiet!", Smarty said before turning his attention back to Spot. "Don think that'll work on us! Ferrah needs a meal, and it ain't gon' be us; it's gon' be you."
Unfazed by that last part, Spot continued, "Well, see no one needs to be fed to Ferrah. Ferrah should go out and get their own food instead of making you guys to their work for them. Meanwhile, you should be relaxing in a great oak tree somewhere while ladies feed you nuts and berries. You guys are the brains of the operation, but this Ferrah is reaping the benefits." He paused for a moment and then added for good measure, "Besides, I wouldn't make a good meal. I'd taste gamy."
Spot's words were obviously working as he could see the gears turning in their heads and his words sinking in. If he kept pushing, he bet that they'd crack. He was tilting the house's odds in his favor on this one.
"So, why don't you two nice fellas unlock my cell, give me back my stuff, and then we can all just leave together. Abandon this racket, and go out and work for yourselves. You don't need to live under the control of some bloated tyrant who's too lazy to catch their own food. You two should be the top of your own food chain."
The second squirrel shrugged, and reached for the jail keys, "He has a point you know." Smarty watched as his companion walked over and opened Spot's cage.
"Thanks man, I owe you one. Let me roll a fine cigar for you to celebrate the start of your new and glorious life" Spot said as he jovially patted the squirrel on the back. The two of them headed down the hallway, and it wasn't long before they could hear the quick footsteps of the other squirrel running to catch up to them.
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kamileunaire rolled 1 20-sided dice:
3
Total: 3 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat Feb 19, 2011 5:39 pm
Skark - Soul: 6
That's a 9, so FAIL.
Drip, drip, drip.
A deep shuddering sigh heaved from the grey and white pile of feathers as the bird began to stir. One foot moved, scrabbling and twitching uncomfortably against the dankly packed earth of wherever he was. Skark's eyes were squeezed shut tightly before they ever opened as his mind clung to the darkness. He could hear a familiar voice. His mother, perhaps? Or Kess. They sounded so much alike that he always used to get them confused. These addled thoughts fueled his movements, and he chirred softly, murmuring into the earthy floor of the cell.
"Kessy? Vhere...ngh...vhere are you." his voice came out in a hurt whisper, and he rolled over. Or at least, Skark tried to. The cell was so cramped that he was pressed against the opposite side now as he struggled into consciousness. He could hear them, both of them, talking. Mother! Was mother back? His heart fluttered at the prospect, but a soft, incessant sound continued to interrupt these visions, sending ripples through them and scrambling the words so he could hardly tell what was going on. His wings flapped feebly once or twice, subconsciously trying to move the inert bird closer to the sounds of the voices in his head. He whimpered in frustration, claws scraping into the dirt.
Drip...drip, -drip-.
Skark's new position had exposed him to the noisy leak in the cell. It only took a few drops against his face and beak before his black eyes, dull and glassy from the pain of his aching head, rolled open. A split second passed before the rush of adrenaline hit, and Skark realized that he was not on the makeshift roost he'd drifted off on last night. The shrike moved sluggishly at first, but he was on his feet in moments, wobbling uneasily. His head hurt. A shrill, angry call burst from his throat, raspy and harsh, and full of anger. Where was he? What was this -nonsense-!? Skark fluttered, wings battering against the walls, and against the wooden bars of his prison. He lashed out with his beak, scoring the wood in several places with its sharp tip. A hiss emitted from his throat when someone called out angrily from around the corner, for him to 'can it', and his feathers fluffed out in his rage. He was about to make a menacing retort, but the same voice continued on in a quiet conversation, no doubt with another unseen captor. The shrike contained himself to try and get his bearings, and to listen.
" -and 'e says, you know what 'e says? 'e says to me, Farrah's gonna get him a promotion. Gonna let him have ol' Gene's spot. Head second-in-line-for-breakfast if you ask me. I don't want that on my head. I says to 'im, "Good! Glad ya caught em! When ye ain't caught nothin' next month it won't be my furry behind Ferrah's snacking on."
Skark exhaled with a huff, and clacked his beak, fury washing over him in waves. Someone planned to eat him, did they? WELL. Not if he could help it. He was used to eating people, not the other way around. He hopped from one end of the cell to the other, inspecting it top to bottom, front to back, his mind racing. Those voices. They sounded like squirrels, and that only put more wood on his fire. He hated squirrels. Nosy, mischief-making thieves, fast-as-lightning, so that you had to work extra hard to catch them.
The last straw was pulled when he finally noticed that he was missing the shawl that he always wore. HIS FAVORITE SHAWL. GONE. The squirrels had it, he knew it. Another furious screech rattled out from Skark's throat before he could stop himself. There was a soft scuffling of feet, and now his jailors were rounding the corner, scowling as menacingly as two puff-tailed poofters(that's what Skark saw them as, anyway) could manage.
"S'all the racket then, 'ay? Keep that bloody beak 'o yours shut or we'll shut it again for ya. Must not'a smacked 'im hard enough the first time." the bigger squirrel let out an obnoxious chuckle. His fur was a striking autumn red and he had tall, tufted ears, and a smug look on his face that made Skark burn on the inside. His friend, slightly smaller, and gray-colored, giggled in response.
Action needed to be taken. Skark let his feathers smooth back down. He let his features soften. Even though the venomous gleam in his shining obsidian eyes would never fully extinguish, he took on a different air altogether. "Aah, many apologies, sirs. I vas startled, you see. Vhere is this place that we are now, if you do not mind to tell?" the shrike batted his eyelashes softly, and cocked his head in a way he imagined would be innocent-looking and quizzical in appearance. Asking the questions in his most silky-velvet voice. It was something he prided himself on greatly. Neither of his bumbling brothers would ever have a way with words like he did.
The squirrels looked at each other, and the red one gave a mean grin. "'Fraid that's classified, birdy. You'll find out soon enough though, I'm sure." the squirrels tittered again stupidly, and Skark smiled along with them, readjusting his wings.
"Vhat are a couple of strapping creatures like yourselves doing down here, being lowly guards squvirrels? I can offer you handsome gents something much more, how ve say...revwarding, if you help me to escape." Skark said in a hushed tone, his eyes narrowing secretively as the squirrels drew closer to the bars. Their eyes were shining with that usual squirrel greed and curiosity. That's what you really had to do, bait them with something tasty, and then they'd come running headlong into the trap, usually without a second thought.
(and here comes the fail)
The red one seemed duly flattered by the bird's compliments, but he heaved a wistful sigh, and smirked wickedly. "S'gonna have ta be a pretty good offer, bird. Ya think ya can top what we're gettin' fa this job, and I don't see how ya can do that. My a**'d be grass if you got away." his grey companion snorted in amusement at the phrase.
Skark murmured a crestfallen 'hum', and he shut his eyes for a moment, as if to accept his fate. "Vell then, I see how it must be. The two of you are dedicated, yes? Still, you should let an old doomed bird tell his last secrets to somevone, so that they vill not go wasted. Come, come here, closer." he watched them, letting his rage bubble back up to the surface. He could see that they were stubborn, too stubborn to ever be talked into opening the door. He'd have to find another way out, but not before he schooled that red dandy.
The red-furred guard, smug grin plastered to his face, bravely drew near to the bars as Skark made to tell him the secret. But instead of gaining a secret, the squirrel lost something instead, for as soon as his face and neck were within grabbing range the shrike had reached through to yank him up against the bars and bite down onto the squirrel's ear with his wicked hooked beak.
"AUGH, NO, NO, LEMME GO!!! GET IT OFF, GET 'IM OFF'A ME! AAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!"
The resulting shriek of agony was like music to Skark. He shredded the creature's ear to bloody ribbons before the obnoxious rodent managed to squirm away, assisted by his terrified friend. Both of them rushed away from the cell and out of sight. Skark proceeded to flutter and batter against the door and walls once more, his strident calls echoing like horrid, mirthless laughter through the dungeon in which he was trapped. He laughed at what he had done, and he laughed at the sound of scuffling feet and angry voices down the hall. Whatever this place was, whoever was out there, let them come. Skarkiss would find his way out, regardless of what obstacles there were.
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