Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: SUDDEN DEATH)

Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: SUDDEN DEATH)
Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: SUDDEN DEATH)
Something stirs in the corners of space.

A whisper on the extrasolar winds. A call to vicarious arms.

Bring to me your soldiers. Your survivors. Your beasts of war.

Let them raise their dukes, their flags; pay their dues, raise the roof.

For a grand battle is about to take place.

[Image: 90fCFpK.png]


woah wait shit fuck what
That's right! After an long and admittedly-ludicrous freeze on new Grand Battles, we're starting fresh! This Grand Battle will, if active and successful, be the start of a new season of Grand Battles.

Cool ok but what is this Battle business
Grand Battles are collaborative stories about people and creatures fighting to the death, in a series of rounds where each is a new setting offered by the GM. You submit a character, and write with the other writers about what your characters get up to. This might not actually be fighting! In fact, you're not allowed to just run up and write your character cleaving another's in two.
At the end of each round, the host (me!) chooses the weakest link amongst the players. The eliminee chosen, their character's death is written in the story, the round ends, a new round (with a new location) begins, and the game continues in this fashion until we have one winner.
An alternative explanation can be found here. Examples of Grand Battles can be found here. A throng of helpful folks can answer your questions here, on #grandbattle Esper IRC. Note: Old Grand Battles are not required reading to join this one, though the intro posts will reiterate the above information and more.

Ok I'm out of town next weekend, will that be a problem
Probably not! Grand Battles are slower-paced than most roleplays, and if you're planning to win you could be at this a while. An ideal time investment would be enough time, at least once per week (preferably more), to sit down and write something short-story or short essay length. Round 1 posts can be much shorter, though, so don't worry too much. You'll get into the swing of things as we go.

Dang! Sign me up
Cool! Post a profile following this format:
[u]Name:[/u] A useful substitute for "Oi, you!"
[u]Gender:[/u] Whatever you and they prefer.
[u]Colour:[/u] A [color=#hexcod]text colour[/color] to distinguish between players. Keep it readable, black is reserved for the GM.
[u]Race:[/u] AKA species. Give a brief description if it's especially weird.
[u]Equipment/Abilities:[/u]Tools of the trade, where the trade is survival in their harsh world.
[u]Description:[/u] A brief overview of their appearance and personality, to give other people a feel for how to write for them.
[u]Errata:[/u] any additional information you'd like to include. A writing sample is not necessary.

The Players
Brom - Volter St. Kepral (#4B0082)
Elize - Sari (#0000CC)
MeltingBard - Krugrug the Barbarian (#FF4300)
myw - Tom(e) Jones (#483d8b)
SupahKiven - Doppelganger (#9400d3)
Cat - Kaylee Joule (#F56E00)

Additional notes for the curious, and those longer in the Battling tooth:
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Less daunting for newbies?

Okay. Reserve.

RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Aw yiss I'm in.
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Reserved, I'll have a post ready later today.

RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Yay, grand battle.

RE: Grand Battle (S?)
reservèd for shore

ED: well I didn't get around to doing this so I'll get in the next one but

I'll be watchin' it
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Doop dooped spoiled for your sensibilities.

RE: Grand Battle (S?)
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
eh why not

E: here we go
E2: Fine color is now #33CC99
RE: Grand Battle (S?)

let's post righteously & having good times /// check out The Book of the Courtier /// ensure proper vegetable consumption /// also check out The Blade and the Cycle /// post it up!!
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Whoah, Red, your font color is nigh onto unreadable. Might want to darken or change it up a bit.
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Just for funsies.
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Name: Krugrug the Barbarian (Kyle Younger)
Gender: Male (Male)
Colour: Krugrug decapitated his foes gleefully in a blaze of red
Race: Krugrug is your run-of-the-mill orcish barbarian (and Kyle is your run-of-the-mill human living in downtown Milwaukee)
Equipment/Abilities: Krugrug is a mighty specimen, boasting huge forearms mainly used for crushing, chopping, and general maiming. His mighty war-axe measures about the size of the average human and can chop about five of them cleanly in half if they're standing in a nice polite single file line. His mighty intellect is...rather absent actually. However, while in a normal instance he is dim-witted and easily misled, on the rare occasion he is prone to bouts of genius, thwarting his foes with cunning uses of his might and terrain. Where this brainpower comes from, not even he knows. (Um...abilities of Kyle's...he's a decent writer? And not bad at needlepoint since his sister made him try it? That's kinda it I think)
Description: Krugrug has a skin tone of dingy green, with dark red hair. His eyes burn red with fury and testosterone. His body is covered in scars and tattoos that consist mostly of weapons he has swung and people he has hacked to pieces in amusing ways. He is generally kind-hearted and generous when he is refraining from his barbarian rage, which is never. He is sturdy and destructive, a force to be reckoned with. (Kyle is a single white male, 5'8", short black hair and a bit of a stubly mustache. Totally uninteresting before we learn that Kyle has the ability to control Krugrug's actions and fate. You see, Krugrug is the protagonist of the MILDLY popular series 'BASH! SMASH! BARBARIAN!' show, aimed at the sort of pre-teenage boys who tend to buy a lot of crappy action figures. The studio isn't terribly well-known or profitable, but they get by thanks to this show and very much so to Kyle. As is common in such fine media, the writers are a team of drunks and potheads who spend most of their time frolicking on their benders and sharing stories of their benders, and spending not enough time watching the show to realize that the main voice actor's been ad-libbing over their typo-ridden scripts for about a year. While Kyle has little control over the animators and such, he's the main force keeping Krugrug alive, and the rest of the company by association. With a quick-wit and a potent knack for bullshit, Kyle makes sure Krugrug can vanquish his foes)
Errata: To clarify, depending on how the story goes, certain passages may be occurring in Kyle's life independent from his narration, indicated by parentheses. For example (((Kyle took a bite of his sandwich and scratched his ass a little))). ...I promise the actual story will be more interesting
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Excellent excellent. Keep the profiles coming, you've all got just shy of two more days before I close signups!
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Yes ok sorry work has been a bitch. Signups are now closed (Anza can get his profile in if he's quicksmart about it), and I'll have the roster(s?) up by my Friday (NZST).
RE: Grand Battle (S?)
Good morning everybody! Thank you for your applications - I had a tough time trying to narrow it down, and will definitely make a second battle in the coming days to play host to everyone who was keen. With a few exceptions who I'll contact privately, your profiles will be accepted as-is if you've posted them here already.

That all said, Grand Battle (S?) will proceed with the following lineup:

Brom as Volter St. Kepral (#4B0082)
Elize as Sari (#0000CC)
MeltingBard as Krugrug the Barbarian (#FF4300)
myw as Tom(e) Jones (#483d8b)
SupahKiven as Doppelganger (#9400d3)
Cat as Kaylee Joule (#F56E00)

Gamestart will be posted within the next couple of days. Thanks again!
RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Loading...)
The six found themselves, without warning, floating in a void. There was no sense of scale beyond glancing across at the others, no sense of size of the space in which they hung. Other than their eyes, not a single one could move an inch.

The lights came on. Something the size of a universe stared down at them with a million eyes, and somehow (without any clear morphology with which to do so) it bowed to the six.

"Greetings, combatants. This is your Grand Battle, and I am your host."

"You have been chosen amongst trillions for this, a fight to the death. For the one who emerges victorious and is granted safe passage home, this will be the tale of a lifetime."

"Allow me to introduce the players of this tale."

The Gandeer found himself, with less warning than before his sudden abduction, spun around his back to the voice and eyes.

"Volter St. Kepral, a Cloudrest palace guard and master of aerial combat thanks to his Seven-League Boots."

St. Kepral fell back in line, and something armoured and fey and blue took his spot.

"A Sapphire Auracaller Radiant Incarnate, an entity with the singular purpose of advancing the state of Blue. Removed by my summons from its origins, I am intrigued as to its development."

A mighty brute of war was next in the centre, though their host's gaze seemed to pierce right through it.

"Krugrug, a mighty warrior and wellspring of barbaric rage. Beware, he is cunning and prone to moments of genius in a crisis."

Next was another humanoid, neatly clothed and unassuming.

"Tom Jones, a servant and canvas to another. He was built firstly to serve, but with much capacity to fight and destroy where commanded. Unlike others of his kind, he was built to last, but deterioration is inevitable even for him."

The next contestant wasn't held still like the rest, the visage he showed flickering between two men. One body, though.

"Doppelganger is a mystery. His skills of trickery and teleportation gave rise to rumours he can be in two places at once. What can be established is the existence of two personalities. Two fighting styles."

"Finally, we have Kaylee Joule. She demonstrates control over electricity, and enjoys an immunity to its effects."

The lights went out, and there was a distinct sense of whoever owned that voice not being here any more.

The lights came back, and the sky was a piercing blue. The sound of the ocean slowly tuned in, and the contestants were scattered across a large atoll. There wasn't much to look at above the surface beyond, perhaps, another contestant a ways off, or a mangled pillar of coral sticking out of the tropical water. Departing storm clouds still lurked on the horizon.

"Welcome to Matmor Atoll, the former site of the Palace of Anth. The merfolk of Anth are skilled mages, most with an affinity for the coral which makes their home. A recent storm has torn down the palace walls, though the merfolk are busy preparing to rebuild below.

"Busy as they are, they'll likely not have the patience for interlopers. When one of you die, the rest will move to a new locale.


And with that, the contestants were free to explore, or to fight.

RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)
And Volter St. Kepral was left gasping on the calcified ridge of an alien world.

His inky eyes stung and ran with the unfamiliar sensation of brine. He took one unsteady step, collapsed onto his hands and knees, and dry retched heavily.

The air. Why is the air so heavy?

The ground beneath his hands dug shallow grooves into his palm in a thousand little places. It was pale, and knurled, and desperately foreign.

He was on parade grounds. Where were the parade grounds? It was a moment ago he was watching the Duke emerge from the castellated gate, all train and polished brass and fanfare.

And now he was knelt, he realized slowly, on a spit of coral, surrounded by horribly bright, horribly clear water, blending into a razor-straight horizon.

His breath pushed through him in sharp, desperate half-sobs of disbelief. His fingers curled and palpated along the ground until they closed around the reassuring haft of his halberd.

The monumental loss he had just experienced did not yet register in Volter's panicking mind. Its extremity was some great undiscovered void on the rim of his consciousness. But he was Officer St. Kepral, and he was a palace guard for Cloudrest, and he was a soldier, and he was not without his Halberd.
He propped it shakingly upright and tugged himself to his feet.

Analyze, Volter. Analyze, triangulate, and adapt. Find the higher ground.
There it was. A long, crust-over lancet of coral several hundred paces off, blading high and sharpened off into the air. It looked for all the world like a colossal spear, thrust up and grotesquely assertive from the glassy ocean.

Whatever it was, The Gandeerish Duelist's creed was very clear: verticality meant a better look, a stronger position, and maybe, in this case, the chance for Volter to see one of those nightmares held captive on this thrice-accursed strand before they saw him. Perhaps from there, he would see the shoreline of Cloudrest again. Perhaps he could glide home. The Duke would be furious, of course, and it would be privy duty for a week at least, but perhaps things were all right.

He tightened his grip on the tiny piece of world he had brought with him as the reassuring hish of compressed air rose and thrummed and then blasted through the tubes snaking along his greaves. It plucked him from the atoll like a breeze catching a dandelion achene.

Volter soared.
let's post righteously & having good times /// check out The Book of the Courtier /// ensure proper vegetable consumption /// also check out The Blade and the Cycle /// post it up!!
RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)
DoppelGanger managed to land rather gently on the atoll, coral crunching under his shoes. He tapped the baseball bat in his right hand against the machete in his left. Wind from the recent storm ruffled his shirt and his hair, and any attempts to smooth the twisted locks back into place were futile. So he stood, the only other visible living things being the other contestants standing dazed and confused. Or that's how they appeared anyway. You can never be too sure with people like these, now could you?

He took careful note of the landscape. The only viable hiding places were behind the giant coral pillars. That was alright with him, less places for the others to wuss out. DoppelGanger also made sure to check out his 'companions'. They'd be spending a lot of time... 'together' and he wanted to make sure they were manageable. One rocketed into the air and seemed to float on the wind. He'd make sure to watch him. After a few minutes of staring at the others, DoppelGanger disappeared, leaving but a laugh on the wind to let the others know that he had left. He'd be back, he just wanted them to get acquainted with the area before he conducted his business.
RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)

Tom Jones appeared in a large cathedral like room. The majority of the walls were beautiful stained glass images of the sea. Light danced from behind the glass. Water dripped down from the cracks in the ceiling.

"My, my..." Tom said, talking to help him organize the situation in his imperfect mind.

"What you gotten yourself into, Tom Jones?"

He went over what he just went through slowly.

He was wandering the winter.
Then, it went dark. And then... he was in a strange dark room?
No, it went dark, but when he regained awareness he was still in the snow. Further from town, though. Yes, that's how it went.
He had seen the fresh corpse of a merchant nearby. The bloody image burned the moment in his mind. The poor man must have been attacked by wolves.
He remembered thinking that he would finally be able to appreciate the strange and dangerous modifications his master had implanted while in this wilderness.

And then it went dark again. And THEN he met those others, suspended in the dark with him.

And then... something... told them to fight? To the death?

...And then
he was here.

Thinking about it made things no clearer to Tom. What was that thing? Why did it want them to fight? How did they get here? What were those others, anyhow? Many of them seemed rather strange.

What Tom did understand though, was that he did not want to fight. Violence did not make much sense to him.

Tom glanced around the magnificent room, and found the door.

Wouldn't it simply be better to live out their days here? It was beautiful here.

He opened the door, and found himself in a giant ring shaped room. The center was occupied by a large spiraling staircase downwards. It seemed to have no bottom.

RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)
Kyle shuffled through the hallway as though his sweatpants were made of baggy, formless lead. As he passed the notice board he noticed about twice as many brightly-colored warnings pinned to it, usually meaning that the company was dipping into the red for the third time that week. And that usually meant a palate of sticky notes would be attached to his microphone and that some ridiculous marketing ploy would present itself for him to slog through the rest of the day. Great, Kyle thought to himself. He looked down at the coffee mug in his hands and wondered why he chose today to run out of whiskey to sweeten it with.

As he entered his assigned sound studio, he immediately noticed the neon-colored mess on his desk that he'd been fearing. He uttered a deliberately audible groan as though anyone were around to hear. "Why," he asked himself "does management pick the most irritatingly bright shades of orange and pink and still assume I won't see them unless they're sticking up straight into my face?" He began the process of de-cluttering his mic and barely reading through the notes.

"Cross-over today..."

"Fight to the death.."

"You're prolly getting fired..."

The messages were about what Kyle expected to be waiting for him. It certainly wasn't the same thing he did everyday, but collaborations and cross-overs seemed to be the first last-resorts that down on their luck cartoon companies went for. He thumbed through the five lime colored post-its describing the guests and was relieved to see the roster was free of the frilly vampires and anime characters that usually appeared. He let out a sigh that went from relief to apathy before he could finish the breath as he powered up the equipment and mentally prepared himself for the tribulations ahead.

Krugrug shook bits of shell out of his sparse armor as he got up onto his feet. He immediately felt the rush of wind hitting him hard enough to smack the stink off of him and onto a flock of undeserving seagulls. As he processed the sensation he finally opened his eyes long enough to see where he was. In the middle of the sky, to be precise. He stood at the top of a giant pink pillar, itself standing at the edge of a ring of jagged rock spanning the size of a coliseum. The tower rose organically from the sea, stretching up into the fantastic clear blue expanse of air and capping itself off with a sphere of expertly carved coral, seeming like a perfectly smooth marble waiting to eclipse the sun itself. The orc stared transfixed at the big ball of beauty above him.

"Now who would be irresponsible enough to give a barbarian a metric ton of rolling death?" Kyle asked himself.

The thin but numerous supports were bashed to pieces as Krugrug flailed his way through them, barely even slowed as he chopped them down. While causing a massive weight to come crashing down while still standing under it is often a schtick reserved for slapstick, the orc was lucky enough to have the ball decide to go in the direction he'd already cut instead of the one he was still working on. The ball eagerly crawled towards the edge of the tower and with the little bit of momentum it had, it made it into the open air and began its decent towards sea level.

Krugrug was pleased.
RE: Grand Battle (S?) (Round 1: Matmor Atoll)