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#486075 Werewolf's Writing Tidbits

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 20 November 2017 - 08:52 PM

I wrote another quick thing. I'll toss my Tumblr post up here for simplicity...


Again, warning: language.



I wrote another thing inspired by the RPing Taff and I get up to in Guild Wars 2. I’m starting to try working with scenes from Caiden’s POV in a novel I’m writing, but it’s very... challenging for me, in more ways than one.


So, since we had some totally amazing RP moments going on today (not that we don’t always), I figured it might be good practice to try writing a fun little drabble from his POV of their camping tonight, just to try getting into his head and writing some thoughts and stuff.


It ended up being, um... a lot longer than I originally intended. This was gonna just be a super little thing, but I kind of got into it.


Enjoy! :)




He couldn’t sleep. The hard rocks under his back – or under his side, or his stomach, however he tried to lay – should’ve been what kept him awake. But it wasn’t. Caiden had slept on harder things. Worse things. And he’d slept in filthier places – more dangerous places.


No, it wasn’t anything like that. It was her.


He rolled over again, daring to peer at Sadja as she lay, maybe asleep, on the other side of the precarious perch where they slept: the top of some largely crumbled ruins, on a little platform of stone that reached straight up to the sky. It offered a good view of the entire fen, plus it was almost high enough you couldn’t quite smell it so strong.


She’d picked the spot. They had been here before, even slept here before. Felt almost like a long time ago now, after all they had been through. Together. That was the most important part.


Or was it?


Caiden had plenty of partners in the past. Students, even, if that was really the word for them. People he’d mentored, anyway. Watched, helped, guarded, guided – even if he sometimes found himself kept on track by them more than the alternative. It was hard to think of them as “students,” considering how capable they had all been already. Including her. Especially her.




He was doing it again. Shifting in some vague discomfort with himself – or was it disappointment, or annoyance? – he turned over for perhaps the dozenth time tonight, looking out across the fen instead of at her. Caiden took a deep breath and then regretted it. Turned out you could still smell the swamp pretty strongly up here.


His fingers absently found his longbow – a recent acquisition, given he vastly preferred his sword and shield. A slime monster slid around not too far underneath him. The sound annoyed him, or at least it did right now, even as quiet as it was. It probably wouldn’t have at any other time.


So he took his bow in an unnecessarily iron grip, sat up, and reached for an arrow. Drawing it back, he squinted his eye – aiming with one eye was a bitch, it’d taken him years to get used to it – and loosed.


The arrow was enough to knock the ooze, now formed into a ridiculous little bouncing ball that made for a difficult target, straight off the edge of the ruins. It flew so he barely heard the splat, somewhere far below.


It didn’t help.


Caiden set his bow aside again, a guttural sigh rumbling in his chest. Now something was wrong with him, too. He was used to worrying, and used to far worse things, but he could push everything aside in the face of his mission. Once he’d learned to compartmentalize, he had even learned how to sleep again. He’d been able to sleep for years, despite the things in his head. The sights, the smells, the sounds – things he couldn’t forget. All he had been through, fought through. Things that still haunted him.


Including the people he used to worry about. Most of them were gone now, one way or another. Usually the worst ways. Ways he couldn’t save them from. Sometimes he had even had to watch.


And now she was flinging herself around like she almost wanted to be lost that way, too. The jokes were quiet. The teasing was gone. All the things he’d thought he hated but ended up enjoying. Getting used to.


And, at this point, missing. Everything from her telling him not to eat like the bottomless pit he was or not to get himself drunk, right down to berating his endless stoicism and discipline, to the point that he’d found himself being dragged out of his once-impenetrable shell, inch by inch, by a hook in his navel like she’d caught him on a fishing line.


He even missed hearing her laugh at him and rib him over getting an undead’s hammer straight to his sternum and being thrown flat on his ass, wind knocked out of his lungs. Pointing out, unnecessarily, that yes, that drake had, in fact, swallowed him whole. As if he hadn’t noticed. Thanks for the reminders now and then.


And yet all of it made getting the shit beaten out of him not seem so bad, as long as she was fighting by his side.


He probably ought to just back off and let her get over it. But when she was flying into berserk rages and running ahead without looking back, it became hard to let it go. When she nearly died fighting hordes of undead while he struggled somewhere a few feet away, poisoned and weak. Surrounded but distracted, glancing at her every few seconds, even with only the one eye to spare. All but ignoring the assorted jagged-toothed living dead bearing down on him, one thought on his mind: Get her back on her feet.


Now he lay here, staring up at the stars. His eyepatch itched, and he abruptly ripped it off his head and flung it over with his other gear. That wasn’t something he ever did, as self-conscious as he was of the gaping hole in his skull. But, right now, every damn thing annoyed him. Relief from any of it was better than none.


That, and maybe it felt nice to throw something. He wanted to destroy something, with his hands rather than shooting an arrow. But if Sadja was asleep, he wasn’t going to wake her.


All of it kept replaying in his head. Things she’d said. Things she hadn’t said. The silence that had lingered when there previously would have been none, because she would’ve broken it. He kept trying to figure it out. Driving himself crazy. It felt wrong. This should be the last thing on his mind, but it kept clawing its way back to the surface.


Perhaps the most absurd, uncharacteristic part of it all was the simple question that kept knocking against the walls of his skull: Is it me?


Something he was doing? Something he wasn’t doing? Was he giving himself too much credit, making himself too important? Was he completely blowing this all out of proportion? Was he just being a big damn idiot?


And where the hell had his discipline gone?


It used to define him, and now he felt like he’d managed to shunt it all into her and straight out of himself. Gone, at least where she was concerned. But what she had right now wasn’t really discipline, or she wouldn’t be charging headlong into battle… Not that he hadn’t done that his fair share of times.


He actually felt like doing it right now. Walking right down off the particular little formations of ruins that had allowed them to climb up here and finding something to punch. In the face. Hard.


Not helping curb that wrathful desire was the fact that that he still hated himself for not catching up to her in time to haul her up to their perch in his arms, or just over a wide shoulder if she kept fussing, after she’d hurt her leg. No, she’d walked on it instead. Climbed on it.


Something else shoved its way into the front of his mind. Another thing she’d said just a few hours ago, before sundown. “I’m not here to distract you.”


Caiden snorted. His gaze flicked down from the sky to watch another ooze try to make his way up the ruins toward them. Giving it no thought, he found his bow and another arrow, also knocking this one away from their excuse for a camp. Away from Sadja. Away from what he wanted to protect more than anything else. More than saving the world.


Not here to distract him…


It was a little late for that now.

#486055 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 16 November 2017 - 09:18 PM

I... don't really have words, Dalton.


I LOVE it. :lol: Thanks!


(also wow Caid in that last panel tho <3 )

#486012 Werewolf's Writing Tidbits

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 14 November 2017 - 07:22 AM

Your affinity for summing up the state of modern culture and social media while juxtaposing it with fantasy characters is absolutely splendid!  Your capacity for cruelty to your own characters is...worrisome...however.  :P


Still, all of these were great fun to read!  I have a few prompts to suggest, if you like:


  • Caiden vs. Plexaura - Embarrassing childhood photo sharing 
  • Kye asks a girl on a date (maybe modern Febriel?)
  • First taste of battle - any character
  • Tom trips into someone important, has to charm his way out of it  Edit: Bonus points if it's someone he can't/doesn't want to seduce, but knows he shouldn't fight.  But if you want to show him putting his famous moves on, I won't complain.


Have fun!

Oh, you have only just begun to see my capacity for cruelty to my own characters... >.>


I'll definitely write some of these sometime! :D Thanks for the prompts, Cappy!



And I come bearing another drabble. I'll just copy my post from my Tumblr and put it here, for simplicity, since that way I don't have to do the formatting over again. :P



A thing inspired by Guild Wars 2 RPs with Taff​, by her suggestion, about her OC, Sadja Shielding, and my OC, Caiden Voros. I must say, I’m very glad I started playing GW2 with her (you probably saw the previous post about it that I shared from Taff’s blog). Not only is it fun in its own right, but getting to know Sadja is an absolute joy. She’s the best.


I had to wait until I was a little high on I’m-staying-up-too-late feelings to muster up the courage to actually write this, because I have no confidence writing other people’s characters. Especially if I really, really like those characters.


So, here it is, for better or for worse. But I can say one thing - this was an absolute blast to write.


Warning: shameless cuddling. In the “I’m cold, let’s share warmth” kind of way. Maybe. Mostly. Arguably. Sort of.




Snow. Everywhere. Everything was freezing, and the sparse braziers emitted only enough heat to provoke memories of what warmth was supposed to feel like. The entire region was so cold that the damn ships were made out of icebergs, with wood – from somewhere, maybe imported? – haphazardly stuck around to form walls and walkways. Some big, messy sails poked up in various places, theoretically to make the ‘ship’ move. Although Sadja had never actually seen one of these moving. So why the hell were there sails on them?


Not that it was a concern at the moment. The only real concern right now was getting warm.


After running around freezing themselves to the bone all day, Sadja had found a decent enough place to try to get some rest. True, it was only a little corner of wood on the giant kodan (those were bear-people, by the way) iceberg-ship, but it was still warmer than anything covered in snow – which was, literally, everything else in the vicinity.


She had even found a big, thick fur to sleep under for an oversized blanket. The kodans didn’t have much use for that kind of thing, so she’d found one by poking around in a crate in a corner.


Glancing around, she decided Voros had backed down on their deal, after all, even after claiming he wouldn’t. And since all the kodans slept locked up in houses, she couldn’t mooch off their warmth instead.

Unceremoniously removing all her armor, overflowing bags, weapons, and assorted other gear, Sadja dumped it in a corner and rolled herself up in the fur. Maybe it would be warm enough, but probably not.


She started to doze, despite the cold, when something nudged her, and she awoke instantly. The recognizably large and muscle-bound form, one that definitely didn’t belong to a bear-man, disturbed her arguably warm makeshift-bedroll-sanctuary.


“You’re late,” Sadja ribbed as Voros pulled the blanket back over them both, like an awkward sleeping bag. He’d even come shirtless, so Sadja wormed her way out of her own shirt and threw it somewhere else, too.


Voros grunted.


“Almost thought you’d chickened out,” she prompted. It was so hard to get a rise out of this guy, and thus all the more rewarding when it actually worked.


“Told you I wouldn’t,” he replied a bit flatly. He finally slid his thick arms around her, though she noted just how tense those big muscles were.


“Relax, Voros,” Sadja said, perhaps a bit groggily, though she did pointedly turn over to steal more of his warmth by resting her face near his chest. Well, and to make him even more uncomfortable, because it was a little funny the way he squirmed for half a second afterward.


He just grunted again, somewhere deep in the chest she lay against, the sound even vaguer this time.


“So, hey,” she wondered aloud through a yawn as one hand lazily tried to travel south along his body, finding more than a few scars along the way to his navel, “do you have pants on?”


“Get some sleep, Sadja,” Caiden rumbled just as tiredly, removing one hand from around her only long enough to direct hers back up north somewhere.




Mh,” he echoed – teasingly, at least for him. She heard a hint of a smile in his tone. For once. No doubt there wasn’t a trace of it actually on his face.


Then she added, “If you snore, I’m finding a kodan.”


“No you’re not.”


“Is that a challenge?”


“It’s a fact.”


Sadja grinned. Voros sounded pretty sure of himself, and like he cared quite a bit if she went off to make her bed with some bear-person instead. But she was too tired to keep this up, so she settled for snuggling far closer to him than ever would be allowed, especially when there was virtually no clothing involved, by the social norms Voros seemed to hold in such high regard.


Apparently sensing her giving out, Caiden said with a finality that implied the phrase would seal the deal and make her fall asleep, “Good night, Sadja.”


“Good night, Snoros,” she replied, just before tucking her face somewhere between his neck and chest to make sure her nose didn’t freeze and fall off in the night. He really was very warm.


Just before she dozed off, as Voros had planned, she thought she felt him pull her even closer, so close she could have solved the question regarding his pants, and put his face against her head. But, at that point, it was hard to tell… given she was already asleep.

#485974 The Video Game News Thread

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 08 November 2017 - 09:42 AM

Hey y'all, I got some video game news.






Everyone wish a happy birthday to our local entertainment overlord. You know you only enter these boards to read his amazing posts. Let us rejoice that he still graces us with his endless wit.


Happy birthday, Ocey! :D




(sorry, I only traffic in hot video game guy gifs of the Chris Redfield and Nathan Drake variety, so I will use them to express my joy)

#485950 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 02 November 2017 - 07:47 PM

Apologies for the lackluster DM post. My weekend might be about to become very suddenly hectic, and I wanted to make sure I got something posted before I end up waiting until Monday or something.

#485945 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 01 November 2017 - 02:53 PM

Actually I was waiting for Burgs to post. He told me he was going to. :P


But I'll see what I can get up tonight or tomorrow. Sorry. :lol:


Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 31 October 2017 - 07:02 PM

I can answer this one pretty easily, overall. Although I usually use a variety of weapons, so the first one might've been hardest for me. I like pistols, but I usually traffic in some kind of rifles... overall, I'd have to say a straight-up assault rifle is my favorite. Because I'll be blunt - I'm a soldier. I'm a warrior. I'm tough as nails, a sharpshooter with various kind of rifles, and yet I also really, really want to get up in your face with a melee weapon. Or my fists. :P


So I went assault rifle/burst-fire rifle/sniper rifle, warrior/paladin/druid (the last one usually for when they can turn into werewolves in some games), and Narrativist.


I'm a complete and total narrativist. I am there for the story. Obviously I want to enjoy the gameplay, too, and I love any good simulation... but really, it's all about stories for me - stories, characters, emotions. I can play most any kind of game if the story draws me in. I enjoy an extremely wide variety of gameplay, and sometimes, even if I don't find the gameplay entirely fun, I'll keep playing just because I like the story. I get way too invested in a really and truly good video game story. Games have made me shed many tears and get many feels. And of course I way too invested in... certain characters...


So, yes, I'm absolutely 100% narrativist.


#485931 Werewolf's Writing Tidbits

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 30 October 2017 - 03:30 PM

Well he was inspiring, at least to the right crowd. I'll see what I can do, maybe. :P But yeah - you're free to supply prompts to me here. I'd love to fill some out. Especially prompts regarding some of my main characters, since I like developing them from every possible angle.


Sorry - forgot to update this thread when I wrote more prompts! I wrote these over a week ago, for the OCtober prompts going on over at the r/fanfic reddit. Since my friend is hosting it and encouraging me to participate, I did the week before last's prompt, although I had to skip this week since the prompt hit a little too close to some major future plot points in Wulfgard... :P


The prompt for this time was "give your character social media." I had an absolute blast with this one. My friend is trying to encourage me to write "Kye and Caiden displaced in modern times" ficlets, and I admit, it's awfully tempting. For this one, I wrote a prompt fill for Kye and one for Caiden. Mild language warning. :lol:


Social Media prompt - Kye


“Kye, look,” said Drake, as he handed Kye a flat, rectangular black thing. The demon-kin took it, tail flicking once in confusion. “This is the digital age, so it’s time you caught up. Here’s a smartphone, and I already set up a bunch of bullshit social media accounts, so you can screw around on there.”

Kye turned it over in his hands, his claws scraping the shiny finish. He made a face at it. “How’s it work?”

Drake clicked a little button on the side and a screen came on. He moved his finger around on it and things happened. Kye watched, dumbstruck.

“I’m afraid, ah… you’re gonna have to use it one-handed,” Drake pointed out. “Claws and touchscreens don’t mix. So look, here’s Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, blah blah blah…”

“What’re all those things?”

Drake thought about that for a second. “Well,” he replied, “Facebook is where you collect all these ‘friends’ you don’t really know and then brag about things you do to make all your non-friends on your friends list feel bad.”

Kye blinked. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It isn’t. Twitter is where you post little tiny messages for brevity’s sake, I think it was started as some kinda artsy thing. But most people just make huge threads of messages anyway, so it defeats the point.”


“Aaand Instagram is for images. That’s mostly it.”

Kye furrowed his brow. “So… what’s the point?” He paused. “This seems like something demons of Pride would invent.”

Drake laughed. “They probably did, but you’re never gonna fit in with mortals if you ask questions like that. Now here, give it a shot…”

Kye flicked around blindly on the phone and ended up tapping a picture of some multicolored thing, which was apparently Instagram. And he was instantly assaulted by a picture of Drake standing over the corpse of a wyvern with a sword sticking out of its head. He was looking at the camera and giving a thumbs-up. The description read, “Beat @gnaeusthegreatest to that wyvern he mentioned. Try to keep up, buddy! #wrekt”

“Oh, yeah, all your accounts already follow mine,” Drake added casually. “‘Cause, y’know.”

“I don’t know,” Kye replied, quite honestly.

Drake frowned. “Well, there’s this whole…” he gestured vaguely. “Look, you’re not ready for me to talk about follower, ah, measuring yet. I’m gonna take you somewhere scenic and you can take some pictures, okay?”

Kye was completely lost.

But it didn’t take long for Drake to get him on the back of his motorcycle – because of course he had a motorcycle, and of course Kye had to ride on the back – and drive at breakneck speeds to some park somewhere. Kye lost track of where they were going when he shoved his face into the back of Drake’s shoulder and held on for dear life.

When they arrived, Kye promptly got to work. He had no trouble finding subjects for posts, as he was now surrounded by brightly-colored flowers, trees, singing birds, a running stream, sunshine, a blue sky with just enough puffy clouds of white to make perfect pictures, and… Well, anyway, it was a wonderland.

In an hour and a half, Kye returned to Drake, who was busy lounging in the shade of a tree. And Kye said flatly, “My phone won’t take anymore pictures.”

Drake took it and his eyes went wide. “Kye, you filled up this entire phone in less than two hours. The hell were you even doing?”

Kye rubbed the back of his neck. “I… was taking pictures of pretty things.”

Drake flipped through the great Instagram spam on the demon’s account. It was pictures of everything. Trees, bark, leaves, flowers, insects, birds, the sky, clouds, sunlight filtering through the leaves, and videos of birdsongs, videos of running water, videos of…

“You think everything is pretty,” Drake said flatly.

The descriptions were lackluster, though, especially given Kye had next to no idea what he was looking at half the time, so there were certainly no specifics on tree or flower types. One post read, “Pretty flower. #flowers”

Kye blushed fiercely and retorted in a mumble, “That stuff is pretty.”

Drake shrugged and said, “I won’t argue. You’re, uh… artistic, actually. These are really good. Although people like it if you slap a filter on things.”

Kye frowned. “They make it not pretty anymore.”

Drake couldn’t help but grin. Getting to his feet, he put an arm around Kye’s shoulders and led him back toward the dreaded motorcycle.

“C’mon,” he said, laughing, “let’s go get you the biggest memory card we can find.”



Social Media prompt - Caiden


Almost the instant he’d woken up that morning, Caiden had reminded Gwen they had another mission that day: apparently, some unknown threat had moved into a suburban area not far from where they lived. Locals kept shouting about pranksters. But all the evidence pointed toward ghouls. Big difference… not that most people knew that.

So, of course, it wasn’t long before Caiden was standing by the door, bristling with all his armor, guns, and gear, quadruple-checking a tricked-out assault rifle. Gwen sauntered over to him, all her weapons already holstered. But she paused when she reached her partner, as she realized he wasn’t checking his gun a fifth time. He was looking at his phone.

“You okay, Caid?” she asked, arching a long, thin brow. “You aren’t sick, are you?”

He gave a brief, quiet growl in his throat. “Tom said he likes my Twitter account.”

Gwen tried not to burst into laughter on the spot. “Did he now?”

Caiden was far too perceptive to let the innocent hint of a smile on her lips slip past him, and he held his smartphone up in her face. She was presented with a simplistic Twitter account page for one Caiden Voros, which had tweeted several things, all with the same hashtag:

“Eat it. #WWCD”

In a reply to the above tweet, “No or minimal chewing.”

“Narrow eye at it. #WWCD”

“Growl at it. Show teeth. #WWCD”

“Punch it. #WWCD”

“Maybe get a lip twitch. #WWCD”

There were assorted other tweets in the same vein. Gwen had to grin at her own handiwork.

“Knew it,” Caiden said flatly.

“It’s all in good fun, Caid,” Gwen replied, not at all worried that she would get punched or eaten… although Caiden narrowed his one blue eye at her, right on cue. “You said you never wanted a Twitter account, so I made one for you. You have a lot of fans.”

Caiden grunted. “Tell them to join the Venatori, then.” But he slid his phone back into a pocket, slung his assault rifle on his back, and turned to lay a hand on the doorknob. Gwen took the opportunity to slip her own phone from her pocket and quickly click it on, her thumbs working furiously.

Her partner stopped and looked back at her, watching silently for a second before prompting, “You ready?”

Gwen stayed logged into Caiden’s would-be Twitter account on her phone for moments just like this one. Her eyes darted over her tweet one final time…

“Focus on the mission. #WWCD”

And then she posted it.

Looking up at Caiden again and putting her phone away, she replied with a smile, “Let’s go.”

#485918 Official Wulfgard Q&A Topic

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 27 October 2017 - 08:27 PM

Time to ask more questions!


1: How much does the Inquisiton care about the mistreatment of Magi (i.e. burning them at the stake, experimenting on, etc).

2: What is the signifigence of the gauntlets that both Kye and Scaevius have?

3: How common is it for a normal human to have one of these gauntlets? I have an idea for a Templar character who only uses that to fight people with.

1. The Inquisition exists to try and protect not only innocent people from mages, but to protect mages from the angry mobs, namely those who would try to burn a mage at the stake. The Inquisition does execute violent magi, but only after what they deem a 'fair trial'. As for experiments, the Inquisition has now and then performed experiments on some mages who were destructive and would ordinarily be sentenced to death for their crimes, anyway; they do not, however, normally experiment upon the mages who cause no trouble and live peacefully in Karak du Vide, and they do not approve of performing experiments on mages otherwise.


2. You'll find out. ;)


3. The short answer is, no one else would have a gauntlet quite like Scaevius's. It is a unique artifact of godly power that will play an important role in later stories.

#485892 ZONE - The Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 24 October 2017 - 06:32 PM

As Allya attempted to connect with her own soul and those around her, she realized... the demon was right. It was difficult to pinpoint such a thing as a binding on the soul, but she could all but sense a weight hanging on each and every one of them - except the odd, short elf girl ((Percula)) who had seemingly appeared mysteriously in their group. And there was something else also, lingering in the soul of that muscular Venator the elf was always lingering near ((Caiden)).


But whatever the case, it was undeniable: there was something affecting them. If it was specifically a binding, she couldn't be sure, but there was certainly something there.




The argument that took place happened so quickly that Caiden couldn't get a word in edgewise. So, instead, he stood with his hands on his hips, his eye glancing to each person in turn as they spoke.


Finally, Huo said as he held out the two books, "I do have something that could potentially help us. We found these while searching the Temple. One of the Venators - ah, I'm sorry, I don't know your name - said that one book was written in Dwarven, and the other in Demonic. Does anyone here know how to read either one?"


"Caiden Voros of Redfield," he offered simply.


Meanwhile, however, Korvarl and Allya took the book in Dwarven and the book in Demonic, respectively, each glancing through them...


Korvarl's was a bit lengthier, but he quickly figured out what the book was about...



As Allya knew well, Demonic was always difficult to read - but she had learned well how to understand it reasonably quickly...




((I'm feeling too lazy to bother with PMs, so instead, have spoilered sections for those actually capable of, and reading, the books.))

#485847 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 19 October 2017 - 09:24 PM

Yes, you're all free to go back up the stairs and into the main hall (which I already described, so no new description is necessary). Xiraloc has been sleeping here for a very long time, so a few adventurers tiptoeing up or down the stairs won't wake him, especially since no one did anything more than that.


If I didn't want you guys to be able to go back and forth freely at this point, I would've said something when people did it. :P Though I do appreciate the caution. :lol:


Everyone is free to go wherever they please, at the moment, although at this point I would recommend having that rendezvous over the books, the demon in the circle, Xiraloc, etc.

#485828 The Video Game News Thread

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 17 October 2017 - 06:20 PM

Basically, EA said, "We can't have an Uncharted clone, because that wouldn't be like every other single video game made today that's open world with tons of microtransactions and possibly its own currency and five billion flags to collect and some harebrained excuse of a level-up system. We need to have a game people will keep throwing money at, so we're ditching our original direction.


Oh and [offhandedly] we're completely dismantling an entire studio, too. But you only care about us making more open-ended crap with new DLC speeder armor every week, right?"

#485826 The Video Game News Thread

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 17 October 2017 - 02:55 PM


#485808 ZONE - The Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 12 October 2017 - 05:18 PM

Shaking her head, Perky stayed close to Caiden as they made their way out of the damned temple. “Welp, guess it’s about time we found where everyone else went…” She sighed, keeping an eye out.


Caiden nodded. When Huo said something more to the demon in a language none of them could understand, Caiden made an odd noise low in his throat and glanced at Percula again.


"He's not very subtle," the Venator muttered to Percula under his breath.


"Hopefully keeping away from this kind of trouble," said Garandros, in response to Percula, as he joined them. "I'm not optimistic."


Caiden, in an unsurprising gesture, simply nodded in agreement.




Agethar and Malvolio searched around in some nearby buildings for rope, but they could find nothing of the sort.


Korvarl and Elnira, meanwhile, prepared to enter the pipe system. Elnira attempted to pass Mr. Whiskers off to Valya, but the cat was decidedly not in favor of that option, as he hissed and squirmed out of Elnira's hands the moment he was thrust in Valya's direction. He landed on his feet and padded over near Allya instead, fluffed up and flustered and eying Valya cautiously.


But the dwarves entered the pipe, one after another - with Korvarl in the lead, of course...


Meanwhile, Caiden, Percula, Garandros, and Huo arrived from the temple, just as the dwarves entered the pipe.




Korval and Elnira crawled through the dismal, narrow pipes deep into the underbelly of the clanhall. Once or twice, they nearly got lost - not that they had any real idea of where they were going. Eventually, however, they found an exit into what seemed to be an old, abandoned bathhouse in the clanhall. Climbing out, they made their way to the main entrance, passing by many empty, lifeless, once-beautiful rooms and down matching halls... but Elnira, looking around for anything else of interest about this ancient civilization, was surprised to see that most all the rooms seemed pick clean of anything remotely valuable. The clanhall was even barer than the buildings outside.


Upon reaching the entrance, however, they found that the giant doors had no mechanism to operate them. On either side of the entrance stood massive, towering golems as high as the great doors themselves - but they were still and devoid of magic, their stone would-be faces smashed and any sign of the runes that powered them was smashed with it.


However, they managed to find the golden portcullis again, and Korvarl located a winch to raise the gate. Lifting it, Elnira went under and informed the others of their means inside. They had to enter one-by-one, as narrow as the passage was, and Percula was afraid Caiden was going to get stuck.


But, soon enough, everyone stood in the middle of the clanhall... the great, empty, silent clanhall. There were some smashed-open doors at the top of two staircases on either side of the massive room, but searching the upstairs revealed nothing of interest. Just like the rooms Elnira had looked around in before, every inch of this place had been looted.


That only left one more way to go... down.


Korvarl led the way down some interior halls, his knowledge of Dwarven craftsmanship making it easy for him to figure out where the vaults would be located. The opening to the vaults was smashed open, as well, leaving what was once a great door as little more than a pile of dust and rubble. Everyone stepped around the debris and descended a long, deep, spiral staircase leading straight into the bowels of the clanhall... far beneath even Nidavellir itself. Apparently, this was where Clan Dimmlundar saw fit to keep their greatest treasures.


With every step they took deeper into the vaults, the sense of evil that had fallen over them the moment they first set foot in the Forbidden Halls grew even stronger. It was steadily becoming almost overwhelming. The smell of brimstone began to hang in the air as if they descended into a volcano.


And the staircase ended with an opening into a massive room with a surprisingly high ceiling, crafted of fine stone and lined with glimmering golden runes engraved into the walls...


Laying in the middle of the floor in that great room was a demon.


It was no small demon. It made the demon trapped in the temple almost look like a man. This demon was gargantuan, larger than anything any of them had ever seen. It looked almost like a giant cobra - a cobra was hellish red skin instead of snake scales, and a hood covered in horns, with massive fangs protruding from its upper jaw at all times. His enormous coils spread across and snaked around the entire room. His eyes were shut, and he slept in utter silence - the only means of knowing he still lived was the waft and stink of his breath.


Those among them educated in demons ((Divine or Forbidden Lore)) knew immediately what this was. This was a demon of Malice... and one of almost godlike power. There was no possible way they could currently defeat an abomination such as this.


The evil in this room hung so thick it was almost hard to think. It sent shivers up their spines, left sweat on their faces, clouded their minds, and caused them to tremble in fear. It almost made them feel sick... and the horrible, stifling stench of pure sulfur didn't at all help. It was enough to make almost anyone want to heave up their entire stomach.


But, behind this slumbering demon, they saw light glinting off what could only be treasure, lighting the room behind the demon in a lustrous, golden glow... it must have been mountains and mountains of treasure, possibly putting to shame the hoard of even the greatest of dragons. And, perhaps, it even held Dainsleif, along with the keys to every other vault in the city.


There was, however, no means of getting around the demon. At least... not without waking him.

#485800 Werewolf's Writing Tidbits

Posted by Maverick-Werewolf on 11 October 2017 - 10:41 AM

Brief one, pulled out of a very old short story I never posted publicly.


Prompt, "Whump (your character loses something they love)"


Instantly, Kye surged to his feet – and so did Febriel. They rounded on each other, one staring at the other in equal shock and horror.

He knew instantly exactly what was going through her mind: he was a demon.

For a long moment, neither of them could speak. Finally, the pale-faced Febriel set her jaw and drew in a slow, deep breath, her hands shaking at her sides.

“I knew there was something wrong about you,” she said, her voice low.

But nothing about Kye was slow and measured – his heart pounded, his head hurt, his face was on fire, and he felt more emotions than he could even understand. He shook all over and stammered.

“I-it – it’s not like that!” he finally managed to sputter, his voice cracking. “I – I don’t – I’m not…!”

“Save your lies,” Febriel snapped. She sucked in a sharp breath and finished in a hiss, “Demon.”

Kye swallowed against the lump in his otherwise dry throat, his eyes burning with tears. “I’m not like them!” he suddenly cried. “I’m not evil! I’m not a monster!”

“I should slay you where you stand,” was Febriel’s only answer, though her voice wavered and came out weak.

“Please…” Kye breathed in desperation, almost ready to let his buckling knees finally give out. He managed to find his voice again and begged, “Febriel, please, just – just don’t leave me alone… I’m not like them – I’m not! You know I’m not!”

“Be glad,” Febriel went on, unable to speak without her voice shaking, “I’m letting you leave with your life. Go, Kye. If I ever see you again…”

“Don’t do this – please… I’m not like them…”

“I’ll kill you,” she finished, her voice low.

With that, she turned her back on him and strode off into the forest, not once looking over her shoulder. Kye collapsed, falling to his hands and knees. He watched her go, his great wings sagging by his sides as he trembled violently from head to toe with no idea what to do. He wanted to call out to her, to plead her to stop…

Febriel!” he managed to cry out, but that was all. When he tried to raise his voice again, all that came out was a quiet whimper. “Don’t do this,” he sobbed, watching her disappear into the woods. “Don’t leave me alone again… Please… just – just… come back…”

Kye dropped onto his side, burying his face in his hands and giving in, sobbing and moaning uncontrollably. Everything he thought he was learning suddenly fell to pieces before his eyes. What he hoped was a new life and another chance, one he’d fought for tooth and claw, shattered like so much glass. His heart seared pain deep into his chest with every throbbing beat as if trying to tear itself in two.

For the first time in his life, he had felt something he’d never known – something he’d only heard mortals talk about as a strange concept… something he saw in their smiles, in their eyes, heard in their laughter. It had always been little more than a hopeless dream he’d chased after for his entire immortal life. Now he knew that feeling, and he knew what it was like to have it ripped from his very soul – when he was only just beginning to understand it.

For the first time in his life, he had been happy.