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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 14:45:13 GMT -5
"If it weren't for men like me who kill them, probably many more," he quips. "A man so willing to kill his peers certainly doesn't give two shits about whether they enjoy their life or not." He shrugs. "In Lys gold can buy a man a title and all the women I want. Why go anywhere else? I'm no sorcerer."
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 14:53:51 GMT -5
"And even after all you have seen in our travels, you believe you will be the exception?" he inquired, motioning to his cattle. "A sorcerer worth his salt could make any of these men your equal in arms. Flesh is weak and malleable, skill is only a fool's comfort, and wealth only a clever cutpurse away from being lost. All that matters power-those who have it and those who do not."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 14:58:06 GMT -5
"You have magic, sorcerer," Nyles says, "yet if I slashes you across the throat with my dagger right now, you'd not even know I meant you ill. Power is an idea, not a thing," he continues. "And your use of power has left you getting stalked by a giant snot bubble, while I get these northern lord's daughters to take my seed."
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 15:05:39 GMT -5
"And then you would be short a patron and the man I seek to stop would be free to reduce Lys to ash." Oriax more amused than perturbed for once, despite the annoyances of his quest. "Your dream would die with me. In this instance I assure you, the destination is worth the journey."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 15:14:01 GMT -5
"And thus the fallacy of power," he says. "You can crush armies but can't stop a snot ball, I can kill a snot ball and get crushed by armies. I follow so long as the gold flows."
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 15:22:12 GMT -5
Oriax could not help but be amused at the relentless demonic mage hunter being referred to as a "snot ball," the sorcerer shaking his head slowly as they trudged along.
He considered Nyle's words for most of the day and when they had made camp for the evening, examined his herd of cattle for the most capable looking amongst them.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 15:32:13 GMT -5
His little mind-melted people have no real genius among their number, but one has retained about four fifths of his faculties, and can understand a simple conversation and apparently the recipe for the perfect beef stew.
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 15:58:49 GMT -5
"And from this meager clay, I shall make a champion." Oriax whispered, stroking the man's face with paternal affection. A warrior who would serve without question, without gold, without hesitation.
He set about to the task for as long as it would take. A masterpiece could not be rushed. He carved runes into the man's flesh to imbue him with strength, tolerance for pain, obedience, stamina, and dozens of other qualities arcane and mundane befitting a warrior. With each completed rune, a member of his cattle was ordered to cut their throat, the sorcerer transferring their life force to the chosen vessel. When he was finished he hoped for a warrior without peer, with the strength of twenty, but not mindless. He would be able to pass as a dumb brute at the least.
(Ritual 95+105 for Feast of Souls. Take all the time it would require to be done right.)
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 16:12:40 GMT -5
Result: 209
The man changes shape before everyone's eyes, growing larger and larger until he is near seven feet tall, muscles bulging. His clothes tear and his eyes turn bright yellow as the spell takes hold. Nyles, having seen so much already, yawns. "Now that is an ugly motherfucker, Oriax." The beast man turns his head to him.
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 16:19:01 GMT -5
"Find him some furs and a weapon befitting his size." Oriax said, examining the new specimen as one would a prized bull. "Still convinced power is only an idea?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 16:56:43 GMT -5
The other mercenaries find him something to fit, sort of, but no suitable weapon is found among the small group. Nyles shrugs. "Can it actually fight?"
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 17:13:57 GMT -5
"Only one way to find out I suppose." Oriax answered, raising a finger and pointing it at one of Nyles' men. "Kill him."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 17:52:44 GMT -5
The thing has no weapon, so Nyle's man hacks it to bloody shreds. Everyone turns to Oriax, and Nyles chuckles. "Guess not."
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Kurts
Prince
Posts: 3,760
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Post by Kurts on Mar 18, 2015 18:22:37 GMT -5
Oriax sighed, removing his glove and walking over to his slain creation. It was so hard to make good help these days. He drew his dagger and ran it across his palm, allowing the blood to drop down on the monstrous form. He began chanting in Asshaii, attempting to return it to life, it could be called that.
(Ritual 95)
"It looks as if someone will have to teach him." he stared at Nyles. "Find a log for him. A brute needs a club."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Mar 18, 2015 18:24:41 GMT -5
Nyles chuckled. "This should be fun."
The days pass as the group marches ever farther north, stopping at small villages for food and warmth. Eventually they get to the fork in the road which leads to Winterfell and its town.
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