Quests & Challenges
Quests, Challenges, and Festival games.
TOPIC | [RBC] The Hungry Games (DONE)
Lowery stretched in the morning sun, letting his weary wings rest in the sunlight. Despite the light, here was still a chill in the air, worming its way between his feathers and biting his scales. If he had the option, he would have liked to stay there for awhile. But there was work to be done, and Lowery was not a slacker.
Leftover clams went into his bag, while the shells were put back in the vat and pushed back into their corner. He spent some time dusting away any footprint and plucking up a few feathers that he had shed during the night. Eventually, all that was left was the fire. He scooped water into the same container he'd used for the broccoli juice, and tipped it out over the embers.
Water touched fire, and the two elements hissed and snapped at each other, sending up a cloud of searing steam that lunged upwards at Lowery's snout. He yelped and snapped his head back, but the steam still managed to claw the tip of his nose. Reflexively, he pulled away and his instinct sent him dashing around the fire and plunging his head into the pond.
After a moment, he pulled his head back out and gingerly rubbed his muzzle. It wouldn't knock him out of the competition, but it still stung. He glared at the steam as it peacefully climbed skyward.
A second strand of stream twisted in the distance, catching Lowery's eye. Another fire. Probably another dragon. He was feeling kind of lonely, but... The chance of the distant dragon being friendly was almost nonexistent at this point.
Still, he hesitated for a moment. Took a deep breath. It was best if he kept moving, he told himself, the risk is too high. The dragon sighed, shook out his wings a final time, and began traveling in the opposite direction.
Leftover clams went into his bag, while the shells were put back in the vat and pushed back into their corner. He spent some time dusting away any footprint and plucking up a few feathers that he had shed during the night. Eventually, all that was left was the fire. He scooped water into the same container he'd used for the broccoli juice, and tipped it out over the embers.
Water touched fire, and the two elements hissed and snapped at each other, sending up a cloud of searing steam that lunged upwards at Lowery's snout. He yelped and snapped his head back, but the steam still managed to claw the tip of his nose. Reflexively, he pulled away and his instinct sent him dashing around the fire and plunging his head into the pond.
After a moment, he pulled his head back out and gingerly rubbed his muzzle. It wouldn't knock him out of the competition, but it still stung. He glared at the steam as it peacefully climbed skyward.
A second strand of stream twisted in the distance, catching Lowery's eye. Another fire. Probably another dragon. He was feeling kind of lonely, but... The chance of the distant dragon being friendly was almost nonexistent at this point.
Still, he hesitated for a moment. Took a deep breath. It was best if he kept moving, he told himself, the risk is too high. The dragon sighed, shook out his wings a final time, and began traveling in the opposite direction.
Lowery stretched in the morning sun, letting his weary wings rest in the sunlight. Despite the light, here was still a chill in the air, worming its way between his feathers and biting his scales. If he had the option, he would have liked to stay there for awhile. But there was work to be done, and Lowery was not a slacker.
Leftover clams went into his bag, while the shells were put back in the vat and pushed back into their corner. He spent some time dusting away any footprint and plucking up a few feathers that he had shed during the night. Eventually, all that was left was the fire. He scooped water into the same container he'd used for the broccoli juice, and tipped it out over the embers.
Water touched fire, and the two elements hissed and snapped at each other, sending up a cloud of searing steam that lunged upwards at Lowery's snout. He yelped and snapped his head back, but the steam still managed to claw the tip of his nose. Reflexively, he pulled away and his instinct sent him dashing around the fire and plunging his head into the pond.
After a moment, he pulled his head back out and gingerly rubbed his muzzle. It wouldn't knock him out of the competition, but it still stung. He glared at the steam as it peacefully climbed skyward.
A second strand of stream twisted in the distance, catching Lowery's eye. Another fire. Probably another dragon. He was feeling kind of lonely, but... The chance of the distant dragon being friendly was almost nonexistent at this point.
Still, he hesitated for a moment. Took a deep breath. It was best if he kept moving, he told himself, the risk is too high. The dragon sighed, shook out his wings a final time, and began traveling in the opposite direction.
Leftover clams went into his bag, while the shells were put back in the vat and pushed back into their corner. He spent some time dusting away any footprint and plucking up a few feathers that he had shed during the night. Eventually, all that was left was the fire. He scooped water into the same container he'd used for the broccoli juice, and tipped it out over the embers.
Water touched fire, and the two elements hissed and snapped at each other, sending up a cloud of searing steam that lunged upwards at Lowery's snout. He yelped and snapped his head back, but the steam still managed to claw the tip of his nose. Reflexively, he pulled away and his instinct sent him dashing around the fire and plunging his head into the pond.
After a moment, he pulled his head back out and gingerly rubbed his muzzle. It wouldn't knock him out of the competition, but it still stung. He glared at the steam as it peacefully climbed skyward.
A second strand of stream twisted in the distance, catching Lowery's eye. Another fire. Probably another dragon. He was feeling kind of lonely, but... The chance of the distant dragon being friendly was almost nonexistent at this point.
Still, he hesitated for a moment. Took a deep breath. It was best if he kept moving, he told himself, the risk is too high. The dragon sighed, shook out his wings a final time, and began traveling in the opposite direction.
When Olivine woke, the first thing she noticed was smoke. She cursed as she jumped to her feet. She'd thought the fire was out before she fell asleep last night, but evidently a few embers had survived the dousing. She scattered the ashes out over the dry earth- fortunately she'd had the sense to clear away any brush or leaves that might have caught fire and spread- and stomped out the embers.
She double checked to make sure everything was out. She'd been lucky this time, but another mistake like that might not end so well. Then she gathered up her packs and set out in search of more food.
She saw a thin tendril of steam rising in the disrance and decided to head that way. If it was another dragon, then maybe if they were friendly then the two could team up, or at the very least she could knock them out and take their food. And if it wasn't a dragon, then it was probably another smokehouse like she'd found on the first day. Either way, it seemed like a better option then just picking a direction at random.
She decided to travel through one of the deep crevices snaking through the cracked earth, in order to stay out of sight of any other dragons that might pass by. If she was going to meet someone, she wanted it to be on her own terms.
She traveled that way for a while, alert for the sight, scent, or sound of potential food. Then she turned a corner and came face to face with Cinnaminny. Startled, she jumped back, brandishing her pearl in front of her threateningly While the first time they'd met had been friendly enough, the last time Olivine had seen the Fae was in the company of a bunch of tribute-hunters. Could she trust the other dragon?
"Hello," she said warily, eyeing Cinnaminny's ladle. Perhaps the best choice here was to cut the encounter short as soon as possible. Either that, or steal the ladle and try to knock the Fae out of the game.
@Zif I don't know if I'll really be able to respond before the next update, but I'm up for a little interaction before they part ways, if you'd like ^^
She double checked to make sure everything was out. She'd been lucky this time, but another mistake like that might not end so well. Then she gathered up her packs and set out in search of more food.
She saw a thin tendril of steam rising in the disrance and decided to head that way. If it was another dragon, then maybe if they were friendly then the two could team up, or at the very least she could knock them out and take their food. And if it wasn't a dragon, then it was probably another smokehouse like she'd found on the first day. Either way, it seemed like a better option then just picking a direction at random.
She decided to travel through one of the deep crevices snaking through the cracked earth, in order to stay out of sight of any other dragons that might pass by. If she was going to meet someone, she wanted it to be on her own terms.
She traveled that way for a while, alert for the sight, scent, or sound of potential food. Then she turned a corner and came face to face with Cinnaminny. Startled, she jumped back, brandishing her pearl in front of her threateningly While the first time they'd met had been friendly enough, the last time Olivine had seen the Fae was in the company of a bunch of tribute-hunters. Could she trust the other dragon?
"Hello," she said warily, eyeing Cinnaminny's ladle. Perhaps the best choice here was to cut the encounter short as soon as possible. Either that, or steal the ladle and try to knock the Fae out of the game.
@Zif I don't know if I'll really be able to respond before the next update, but I'm up for a little interaction before they part ways, if you'd like ^^
When Olivine woke, the first thing she noticed was smoke. She cursed as she jumped to her feet. She'd thought the fire was out before she fell asleep last night, but evidently a few embers had survived the dousing. She scattered the ashes out over the dry earth- fortunately she'd had the sense to clear away any brush or leaves that might have caught fire and spread- and stomped out the embers.
She double checked to make sure everything was out. She'd been lucky this time, but another mistake like that might not end so well. Then she gathered up her packs and set out in search of more food.
She saw a thin tendril of steam rising in the disrance and decided to head that way. If it was another dragon, then maybe if they were friendly then the two could team up, or at the very least she could knock them out and take their food. And if it wasn't a dragon, then it was probably another smokehouse like she'd found on the first day. Either way, it seemed like a better option then just picking a direction at random.
She decided to travel through one of the deep crevices snaking through the cracked earth, in order to stay out of sight of any other dragons that might pass by. If she was going to meet someone, she wanted it to be on her own terms.
She traveled that way for a while, alert for the sight, scent, or sound of potential food. Then she turned a corner and came face to face with Cinnaminny. Startled, she jumped back, brandishing her pearl in front of her threateningly While the first time they'd met had been friendly enough, the last time Olivine had seen the Fae was in the company of a bunch of tribute-hunters. Could she trust the other dragon?
"Hello," she said warily, eyeing Cinnaminny's ladle. Perhaps the best choice here was to cut the encounter short as soon as possible. Either that, or steal the ladle and try to knock the Fae out of the game.
@Zif I don't know if I'll really be able to respond before the next update, but I'm up for a little interaction before they part ways, if you'd like ^^
She double checked to make sure everything was out. She'd been lucky this time, but another mistake like that might not end so well. Then she gathered up her packs and set out in search of more food.
She saw a thin tendril of steam rising in the disrance and decided to head that way. If it was another dragon, then maybe if they were friendly then the two could team up, or at the very least she could knock them out and take their food. And if it wasn't a dragon, then it was probably another smokehouse like she'd found on the first day. Either way, it seemed like a better option then just picking a direction at random.
She decided to travel through one of the deep crevices snaking through the cracked earth, in order to stay out of sight of any other dragons that might pass by. If she was going to meet someone, she wanted it to be on her own terms.
She traveled that way for a while, alert for the sight, scent, or sound of potential food. Then she turned a corner and came face to face with Cinnaminny. Startled, she jumped back, brandishing her pearl in front of her threateningly While the first time they'd met had been friendly enough, the last time Olivine had seen the Fae was in the company of a bunch of tribute-hunters. Could she trust the other dragon?
"Hello," she said warily, eyeing Cinnaminny's ladle. Perhaps the best choice here was to cut the encounter short as soon as possible. Either that, or steal the ladle and try to knock the Fae out of the game.
@Zif I don't know if I'll really be able to respond before the next update, but I'm up for a little interaction before they part ways, if you'd like ^^
Beaumont awoke better rested than he had been in ages. There was something about sleeping out under the starts that really lured one to sleep, rejuvenating bones weary from days spent scrambling around in the wilderness.
It seemed as though he was the last one to awaken, the others who had spent the night in the fields nowhere to be seen. As he stretched the exhaustion from his limbs he silently wished each one of them well; they were good, honest folk.
Properly limbered up, Beaumont contemplated what would make today productive. The bean fields were now quite sparse for their harvest, and Beaumont had obtained plenty enough to last him, so spending another day here wouldn't be much of a help. He thought back to last night's conversations, trying to remember any helpful pieces of information that had been shared.
Most of the talk had been light, given the nature of the game that drew them all together, but one had mentioned a pig-pen somewhere off to the east. It sounded like just the thing to round out Beaumont's scavenging endeavors. Pork and beans would create just the proper meal to last him until the end of the competition!
With that thought in mind, he vaguely calculated which direction was east and set off that way, eyes flicking to and fro across the horizon in seek of useful buildings and other players. Aside from a few columns of distant smoke and a plot or two of crops that Beaumont took little interest in, the day was uneventful.
When it became apparent that the pig-pen wouldn't be accessible before the sun fell, Beaumont focused down on shelter. The only thing within view was a little copse of trees, which he supposed would do the job nicely enough. As he approached, it seemed to be large enough to fit him, so he settled down to contemplate things once more.
Nothing all that productive could be done with what little sunlight remained in the day, so he was at a loss. Should he nap? Make a fire? Perhaps he could test his slingshot now that it had the proper bean ammunition.
A better idea came to him quickly. If he truly was going to hunt down some pigs once he reached their pen, he'd need a better weapon than a makeshift slingshot. A knife would be the best option, but he couldn't possibly make one with what he had. A spear, on the other hand...
He snapped a nice straight-looking branch of the nearest tree and set to whittling it, using his claws to draw a point from the end. It didn't take him long to make--he was familiar with the art, had made many a spear in his day. When it was done he examined it proudly and stenciled his name on the handle.
He strapped it on beside his slingshot. He was collecting quite the armory! Yet he hadn't met so much as a shred of conflict throughout his journey. It was odd, he supposed, but not unwelcome. He wondered if his friends from the Processing Floor had been treated with the same courtesy.
Content with his progress, he settled down to rest.
It seemed as though he was the last one to awaken, the others who had spent the night in the fields nowhere to be seen. As he stretched the exhaustion from his limbs he silently wished each one of them well; they were good, honest folk.
Properly limbered up, Beaumont contemplated what would make today productive. The bean fields were now quite sparse for their harvest, and Beaumont had obtained plenty enough to last him, so spending another day here wouldn't be much of a help. He thought back to last night's conversations, trying to remember any helpful pieces of information that had been shared.
Most of the talk had been light, given the nature of the game that drew them all together, but one had mentioned a pig-pen somewhere off to the east. It sounded like just the thing to round out Beaumont's scavenging endeavors. Pork and beans would create just the proper meal to last him until the end of the competition!
With that thought in mind, he vaguely calculated which direction was east and set off that way, eyes flicking to and fro across the horizon in seek of useful buildings and other players. Aside from a few columns of distant smoke and a plot or two of crops that Beaumont took little interest in, the day was uneventful.
When it became apparent that the pig-pen wouldn't be accessible before the sun fell, Beaumont focused down on shelter. The only thing within view was a little copse of trees, which he supposed would do the job nicely enough. As he approached, it seemed to be large enough to fit him, so he settled down to contemplate things once more.
Nothing all that productive could be done with what little sunlight remained in the day, so he was at a loss. Should he nap? Make a fire? Perhaps he could test his slingshot now that it had the proper bean ammunition.
A better idea came to him quickly. If he truly was going to hunt down some pigs once he reached their pen, he'd need a better weapon than a makeshift slingshot. A knife would be the best option, but he couldn't possibly make one with what he had. A spear, on the other hand...
He snapped a nice straight-looking branch of the nearest tree and set to whittling it, using his claws to draw a point from the end. It didn't take him long to make--he was familiar with the art, had made many a spear in his day. When it was done he examined it proudly and stenciled his name on the handle.
He strapped it on beside his slingshot. He was collecting quite the armory! Yet he hadn't met so much as a shred of conflict throughout his journey. It was odd, he supposed, but not unwelcome. He wondered if his friends from the Processing Floor had been treated with the same courtesy.
Content with his progress, he settled down to rest.
Beaumont awoke better rested than he had been in ages. There was something about sleeping out under the starts that really lured one to sleep, rejuvenating bones weary from days spent scrambling around in the wilderness.
It seemed as though he was the last one to awaken, the others who had spent the night in the fields nowhere to be seen. As he stretched the exhaustion from his limbs he silently wished each one of them well; they were good, honest folk.
Properly limbered up, Beaumont contemplated what would make today productive. The bean fields were now quite sparse for their harvest, and Beaumont had obtained plenty enough to last him, so spending another day here wouldn't be much of a help. He thought back to last night's conversations, trying to remember any helpful pieces of information that had been shared.
Most of the talk had been light, given the nature of the game that drew them all together, but one had mentioned a pig-pen somewhere off to the east. It sounded like just the thing to round out Beaumont's scavenging endeavors. Pork and beans would create just the proper meal to last him until the end of the competition!
With that thought in mind, he vaguely calculated which direction was east and set off that way, eyes flicking to and fro across the horizon in seek of useful buildings and other players. Aside from a few columns of distant smoke and a plot or two of crops that Beaumont took little interest in, the day was uneventful.
When it became apparent that the pig-pen wouldn't be accessible before the sun fell, Beaumont focused down on shelter. The only thing within view was a little copse of trees, which he supposed would do the job nicely enough. As he approached, it seemed to be large enough to fit him, so he settled down to contemplate things once more.
Nothing all that productive could be done with what little sunlight remained in the day, so he was at a loss. Should he nap? Make a fire? Perhaps he could test his slingshot now that it had the proper bean ammunition.
A better idea came to him quickly. If he truly was going to hunt down some pigs once he reached their pen, he'd need a better weapon than a makeshift slingshot. A knife would be the best option, but he couldn't possibly make one with what he had. A spear, on the other hand...
He snapped a nice straight-looking branch of the nearest tree and set to whittling it, using his claws to draw a point from the end. It didn't take him long to make--he was familiar with the art, had made many a spear in his day. When it was done he examined it proudly and stenciled his name on the handle.
He strapped it on beside his slingshot. He was collecting quite the armory! Yet he hadn't met so much as a shred of conflict throughout his journey. It was odd, he supposed, but not unwelcome. He wondered if his friends from the Processing Floor had been treated with the same courtesy.
Content with his progress, he settled down to rest.
It seemed as though he was the last one to awaken, the others who had spent the night in the fields nowhere to be seen. As he stretched the exhaustion from his limbs he silently wished each one of them well; they were good, honest folk.
Properly limbered up, Beaumont contemplated what would make today productive. The bean fields were now quite sparse for their harvest, and Beaumont had obtained plenty enough to last him, so spending another day here wouldn't be much of a help. He thought back to last night's conversations, trying to remember any helpful pieces of information that had been shared.
Most of the talk had been light, given the nature of the game that drew them all together, but one had mentioned a pig-pen somewhere off to the east. It sounded like just the thing to round out Beaumont's scavenging endeavors. Pork and beans would create just the proper meal to last him until the end of the competition!
With that thought in mind, he vaguely calculated which direction was east and set off that way, eyes flicking to and fro across the horizon in seek of useful buildings and other players. Aside from a few columns of distant smoke and a plot or two of crops that Beaumont took little interest in, the day was uneventful.
When it became apparent that the pig-pen wouldn't be accessible before the sun fell, Beaumont focused down on shelter. The only thing within view was a little copse of trees, which he supposed would do the job nicely enough. As he approached, it seemed to be large enough to fit him, so he settled down to contemplate things once more.
Nothing all that productive could be done with what little sunlight remained in the day, so he was at a loss. Should he nap? Make a fire? Perhaps he could test his slingshot now that it had the proper bean ammunition.
A better idea came to him quickly. If he truly was going to hunt down some pigs once he reached their pen, he'd need a better weapon than a makeshift slingshot. A knife would be the best option, but he couldn't possibly make one with what he had. A spear, on the other hand...
He snapped a nice straight-looking branch of the nearest tree and set to whittling it, using his claws to draw a point from the end. It didn't take him long to make--he was familiar with the art, had made many a spear in his day. When it was done he examined it proudly and stenciled his name on the handle.
He strapped it on beside his slingshot. He was collecting quite the armory! Yet he hadn't met so much as a shred of conflict throughout his journey. It was odd, he supposed, but not unwelcome. He wondered if his friends from the Processing Floor had been treated with the same courtesy.
Content with his progress, he settled down to rest.
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Oh God, I missed Echo getting food poisoning from licking the rolling pin. this is why we don't lick random rocks people!
Echo pulls himself through a rough night. Only slightly less worse for the wear, he vows to take it a bit easier today. And surely one of the dieties took pity on him, for after a bit of time in a sun dappled clearing surrounded by ferns is a pond. Echo settles himself down for a marathon of fishing.
Echo pulls himself through a rough night. Only slightly less worse for the wear, he vows to take it a bit easier today. And surely one of the dieties took pity on him, for after a bit of time in a sun dappled clearing surrounded by ferns is a pond. Echo settles himself down for a marathon of fishing.
Oh God, I missed Echo getting food poisoning from licking the rolling pin. this is why we don't lick random rocks people!
Echo pulls himself through a rough night. Only slightly less worse for the wear, he vows to take it a bit easier today. And surely one of the dieties took pity on him, for after a bit of time in a sun dappled clearing surrounded by ferns is a pond. Echo settles himself down for a marathon of fishing.
Echo pulls himself through a rough night. Only slightly less worse for the wear, he vows to take it a bit easier today. And surely one of the dieties took pity on him, for after a bit of time in a sun dappled clearing surrounded by ferns is a pond. Echo settles himself down for a marathon of fishing.
[quote name="cvthedral" date="2019-11-21 11:58:02" ]
https://youtu.be/je98UffdN18
[/quote]
I had wondered if anyone was gonna make that crack, haha.
cvthedral wrote on 2019-11-21 11:58:02:
I had wondered if anyone was gonna make that crack, haha.
[center][size=6][b][u]NIGHT THREE[/u][/b][/size][/center]
[quote="KDRT Earth News Radio"]...small riot today after noted Light fashionista Sparkles was caught buying a bootleg set of Pyrite Pauldrons made out of dried mashed potatoes and frozen butter. Devoted fans everywhere are heartbroken, with one quoted as saying, "How can we trust that her Leafy Gladeboughs aren't just enormous stalks of broccoli ever again?"
[b]Wearable red mushrooms[/b], some [b]ever-burning candles[/b], and a pair of [b]spiny purple plants[/b] enter the arena tonight as our generous spectators continue their attempts to convince players to try their hand at theft.
[b]Caradoc[/b] is disappointed by the mostly-empty bean field, but not by the company he finds there. [b]Lowery[b] and [/b]Aurora[/b] join up with him, and together they travel onward in search of more food, discussing the games and what might happen in the morning.
Despite that glorious recent find of his, [b]Brea[/b] is starting to crack under the pressure. He cries himself to sleep, wishing he'd gone off to the Crabbag booth instead.
[b]Damek[/b] knows he's been put behind by that accident with the hatchet, so when he comes across [b]Olivine's[/b] camp, he impulsively does the only thing he can think of to level the playing field a bit: destroying everything she's found so far and running away.
[b]Echo[/b] is surprised by [b]Cinnaminny[/b], who has travelled all the way to the fishing pond via those cracks. She leaps at him! [b]Echo[/b] panics and slaps her with the only thing handy--a big catfish--crashing her to the ground. Still tired from his sickness, he decides to save his energy and spare her a knockout. She flees in disgrace.
[b]Widowmaker[/b] is heading to the bean field when he finds a big Ridgeback deep asleep. Judging by the sight of that spear at his side, [b]Beaumont[/b] plans to do some hunting in the morning. Afraid, [b]Widowmaker[/b] snatches the spear up and cracks [b]Beaumont[/b] a good one on the head with it, [color=red]knocking the Ridgeback out.[/color] Only then does he remember that this is a nonlethal game and [b]Beaumont[/b] wouldn't have killed him with it. ...Oops.
[b]Pecan[/b] is having an absolutely wretched time compared to most of the players. Wanting nothing but to leave and go home and celebrate Rockbreaker's with her clan in peace, she screams for help. Nobody answers.
Oh dear. Oh no. How awful! [b]Ajax[/b] doesn't pay close enough attention to what he's gathering while in this carrot field and pulls up a small explosive, which lights as it's yanked out of the dirt. He throws it in his sack and blows up a huge portion of his food. Unfortunately, this will drop his prize back to standard value.
[b]Terra[/b] really isn't doing so well at this point. Between a lack of good food finds, poor company, food poisoning, fear, and the cold, she passes out from exhaustion. It's a miracle that nothing happens to her while she's down.
[b]Maroux[/b] rubs his claws together and sets a trap for [b]Sumuji[/b]. He strings a rope of sausages between two fruit tree trunks and lets them rest slack. When [b]Sumuji[/b] comes running up to the trees, he pulls the sausage rope taut, tripping [b]Sumuji[/b] up and sending him on a collision course with a tree trunk. [b]Maroux[/b] checks to make sure [b]Sumuji[/b] [color=red]is knocked out[/color] before swapping their offering bags and walking away with a smile.
[b]Caribbean Sea[/b] can't seem to stop fear sweating after what he did to Euclase. Fortunately for him, an unknown dragon sends him some bottles of clean water. Staying hydrated will let him gather food for longer than usual tonight. That's 10% extra on his prize!
Breaking news: Music pirates have come to Sornieth. Twenty minutes ago, thieves boarded a cargo ship and seized a shipment of brass instruments fresh from the Ashfall Wastes. "What a waste of perfectly good trombones," lamented the elderly Captain Gembeard. "In [i]my[/i] day, pirates made their peg legs from [i]wood.[/i]" The thieves are still at large, but...[/quote]
-------------------------------------
@jbapple @Zif @Kvon @Kunikida @Martine @Funfun11 @Kelpoyo @LadyOfTheSkies @ArtemisAgrotera @Sublimevoide @Lightningwind @/Dragonfruiteen @Wonderlast @Natureluvr @ShadowWolfDeath @Unicornponies @TheAwesoMew @WolfByte @MusicandMagic @Cvthedral @Thewarywatcher13 @DeathPhoenix @Goldia @Rivertyl
@Deladria @kijauni
------------------------------------
[center][b]10 PLAYERS DOWN. 14 STILL ACTIVE.[/b]
Sumuji and Beaumont have been knocked out.[/center]
NIGHT THREE
KDRT Earth News Radio wrote:
...small riot today after noted Light fashionista Sparkles was caught buying a bootleg set of Pyrite Pauldrons made out of dried mashed potatoes and frozen butter. Devoted fans everywhere are heartbroken, with one quoted as saying, "How can we trust that her Leafy Gladeboughs aren't just enormous stalks of broccoli ever again?"
Wearable red mushrooms, some ever-burning candles, and a pair of spiny purple plants enter the arena tonight as our generous spectators continue their attempts to convince players to try their hand at theft.
Caradoc is disappointed by the mostly-empty bean field, but not by the company he finds there. Lowery and Aurora join up with him, and together they travel onward in search of more food, discussing the games and what might happen in the morning.
Despite that glorious recent find of his, Brea is starting to crack under the pressure. He cries himself to sleep, wishing he'd gone off to the Crabbag booth instead.
Damek knows he's been put behind by that accident with the hatchet, so when he comes across Olivine's camp, he impulsively does the only thing he can think of to level the playing field a bit: destroying everything she's found so far and running away.
Echo is surprised by Cinnaminny, who has travelled all the way to the fishing pond via those cracks. She leaps at him! Echo panics and slaps her with the only thing handy--a big catfish--crashing her to the ground. Still tired from his sickness, he decides to save his energy and spare her a knockout. She flees in disgrace.
Widowmaker is heading to the bean field when he finds a big Ridgeback deep asleep. Judging by the sight of that spear at his side, Beaumont plans to do some hunting in the morning. Afraid, Widowmaker snatches the spear up and cracks Beaumont a good one on the head with it, knocking the Ridgeback out. Only then does he remember that this is a nonlethal game and Beaumont wouldn't have killed him with it. ...Oops.
Pecan is having an absolutely wretched time compared to most of the players. Wanting nothing but to leave and go home and celebrate Rockbreaker's with her clan in peace, she screams for help. Nobody answers.
Oh dear. Oh no. How awful! Ajax doesn't pay close enough attention to what he's gathering while in this carrot field and pulls up a small explosive, which lights as it's yanked out of the dirt. He throws it in his sack and blows up a huge portion of his food. Unfortunately, this will drop his prize back to standard value.
Terra really isn't doing so well at this point. Between a lack of good food finds, poor company, food poisoning, fear, and the cold, she passes out from exhaustion. It's a miracle that nothing happens to her while she's down.
Maroux rubs his claws together and sets a trap for Sumuji. He strings a rope of sausages between two fruit tree trunks and lets them rest slack. When Sumuji comes running up to the trees, he pulls the sausage rope taut, tripping Sumuji up and sending him on a collision course with a tree trunk. Maroux checks to make sure Sumuji is knocked out before swapping their offering bags and walking away with a smile.
Caribbean Sea can't seem to stop fear sweating after what he did to Euclase. Fortunately for him, an unknown dragon sends him some bottles of clean water. Staying hydrated will let him gather food for longer than usual tonight. That's 10% extra on his prize!
Breaking news: Music pirates have come to Sornieth. Twenty minutes ago, thieves boarded a cargo ship and seized a shipment of brass instruments fresh from the Ashfall Wastes. "What a waste of perfectly good trombones," lamented the elderly Captain Gembeard. "In my day, pirates made their peg legs from wood." The thieves are still at large, but...
Wearable red mushrooms, some ever-burning candles, and a pair of spiny purple plants enter the arena tonight as our generous spectators continue their attempts to convince players to try their hand at theft.
Caradoc is disappointed by the mostly-empty bean field, but not by the company he finds there. Lowery and Aurora join up with him, and together they travel onward in search of more food, discussing the games and what might happen in the morning.
Despite that glorious recent find of his, Brea is starting to crack under the pressure. He cries himself to sleep, wishing he'd gone off to the Crabbag booth instead.
Damek knows he's been put behind by that accident with the hatchet, so when he comes across Olivine's camp, he impulsively does the only thing he can think of to level the playing field a bit: destroying everything she's found so far and running away.
Echo is surprised by Cinnaminny, who has travelled all the way to the fishing pond via those cracks. She leaps at him! Echo panics and slaps her with the only thing handy--a big catfish--crashing her to the ground. Still tired from his sickness, he decides to save his energy and spare her a knockout. She flees in disgrace.
Widowmaker is heading to the bean field when he finds a big Ridgeback deep asleep. Judging by the sight of that spear at his side, Beaumont plans to do some hunting in the morning. Afraid, Widowmaker snatches the spear up and cracks Beaumont a good one on the head with it, knocking the Ridgeback out. Only then does he remember that this is a nonlethal game and Beaumont wouldn't have killed him with it. ...Oops.
Pecan is having an absolutely wretched time compared to most of the players. Wanting nothing but to leave and go home and celebrate Rockbreaker's with her clan in peace, she screams for help. Nobody answers.
Oh dear. Oh no. How awful! Ajax doesn't pay close enough attention to what he's gathering while in this carrot field and pulls up a small explosive, which lights as it's yanked out of the dirt. He throws it in his sack and blows up a huge portion of his food. Unfortunately, this will drop his prize back to standard value.
Terra really isn't doing so well at this point. Between a lack of good food finds, poor company, food poisoning, fear, and the cold, she passes out from exhaustion. It's a miracle that nothing happens to her while she's down.
Maroux rubs his claws together and sets a trap for Sumuji. He strings a rope of sausages between two fruit tree trunks and lets them rest slack. When Sumuji comes running up to the trees, he pulls the sausage rope taut, tripping Sumuji up and sending him on a collision course with a tree trunk. Maroux checks to make sure Sumuji is knocked out before swapping their offering bags and walking away with a smile.
Caribbean Sea can't seem to stop fear sweating after what he did to Euclase. Fortunately for him, an unknown dragon sends him some bottles of clean water. Staying hydrated will let him gather food for longer than usual tonight. That's 10% extra on his prize!
Breaking news: Music pirates have come to Sornieth. Twenty minutes ago, thieves boarded a cargo ship and seized a shipment of brass instruments fresh from the Ashfall Wastes. "What a waste of perfectly good trombones," lamented the elderly Captain Gembeard. "In my day, pirates made their peg legs from wood." The thieves are still at large, but...
@jbapple @Zif @Kvon @Kunikida @Martine @Funfun11 @Kelpoyo @LadyOfTheSkies @ArtemisAgrotera @Sublimevoide @Lightningwind @/Dragonfruiteen @Wonderlast @Natureluvr @ShadowWolfDeath @Unicornponies @TheAwesoMew @WolfByte @MusicandMagic @Cvthedral @Thewarywatcher13 @DeathPhoenix @Goldia @Rivertyl
@Deladria @kijauni
10 PLAYERS DOWN. 14 STILL ACTIVE.
Sumuji and Beaumont have been knocked out.
Sumuji and Beaumont have been knocked out.
Beaumont didn't even know what hit him.
He must have overslept and missed the sunset, drowsing on as the moon rose. The previous nights, he'd had dragons to keep watch alongside him. But tonight, he was all alone. And that was all it took.
He woke in the medical tent, head positively throbbing. His spear was gone, likely the cause of his elimination.
Drat! Shouldn't'a let m' guard down.
Fortunately, it seemed his foe hadn't stolen the makeshift slingshot, too; at the very least, he had a memento to remember the Games by!
From what he could see, the sky was still dark out. With nothing else to draw his attention, Beaumont drifted back to sleep.
Dang, and here I thought Beau was doing so well...ah, at least both his buddies are still in the running!
@Snek, I think I'm still on the open signups pinglist (so I might be able to get in on Round 2 :o), but could I get spectator pings too? Beau's going to hang around the medical tent and cheer his buds on.
He must have overslept and missed the sunset, drowsing on as the moon rose. The previous nights, he'd had dragons to keep watch alongside him. But tonight, he was all alone. And that was all it took.
He woke in the medical tent, head positively throbbing. His spear was gone, likely the cause of his elimination.
Drat! Shouldn't'a let m' guard down.
Fortunately, it seemed his foe hadn't stolen the makeshift slingshot, too; at the very least, he had a memento to remember the Games by!
From what he could see, the sky was still dark out. With nothing else to draw his attention, Beaumont drifted back to sleep.
Dang, and here I thought Beau was doing so well...ah, at least both his buddies are still in the running!
@Snek, I think I'm still on the open signups pinglist (so I might be able to get in on Round 2 :o), but could I get spectator pings too? Beau's going to hang around the medical tent and cheer his buds on.
Beaumont didn't even know what hit him.
He must have overslept and missed the sunset, drowsing on as the moon rose. The previous nights, he'd had dragons to keep watch alongside him. But tonight, he was all alone. And that was all it took.
He woke in the medical tent, head positively throbbing. His spear was gone, likely the cause of his elimination.
Drat! Shouldn't'a let m' guard down.
Fortunately, it seemed his foe hadn't stolen the makeshift slingshot, too; at the very least, he had a memento to remember the Games by!
From what he could see, the sky was still dark out. With nothing else to draw his attention, Beaumont drifted back to sleep.
Dang, and here I thought Beau was doing so well...ah, at least both his buddies are still in the running!
@Snek, I think I'm still on the open signups pinglist (so I might be able to get in on Round 2 :o), but could I get spectator pings too? Beau's going to hang around the medical tent and cheer his buds on.
He must have overslept and missed the sunset, drowsing on as the moon rose. The previous nights, he'd had dragons to keep watch alongside him. But tonight, he was all alone. And that was all it took.
He woke in the medical tent, head positively throbbing. His spear was gone, likely the cause of his elimination.
Drat! Shouldn't'a let m' guard down.
Fortunately, it seemed his foe hadn't stolen the makeshift slingshot, too; at the very least, he had a memento to remember the Games by!
From what he could see, the sky was still dark out. With nothing else to draw his attention, Beaumont drifted back to sleep.
Dang, and here I thought Beau was doing so well...ah, at least both his buddies are still in the running!
@Snek, I think I'm still on the open signups pinglist (so I might be able to get in on Round 2 :o), but could I get spectator pings too? Beau's going to hang around the medical tent and cheer his buds on.
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@TheAwesoMew
Alas, the simulator is a fickle program. But I'm happy to keep you pinged for both spectator purposes and Round 2's signups :D BTW that was a cute art you posted a bit back!
Alas, the simulator is a fickle program. But I'm happy to keep you pinged for both spectator purposes and Round 2's signups :D BTW that was a cute art you posted a bit back!
@TheAwesoMew
Alas, the simulator is a fickle program. But I'm happy to keep you pinged for both spectator purposes and Round 2's signups :D BTW that was a cute art you posted a bit back!
Alas, the simulator is a fickle program. But I'm happy to keep you pinged for both spectator purposes and Round 2's signups :D BTW that was a cute art you posted a bit back!