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Battle of the Golden MacGuffin
Topic Started: Aug 26 2017, 09:04 PM (1,935 Views)
Larsland
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Some dwarven miners have discovered one of the most powerful relics of the Gods buried deep inside the mantle of the Earth - the Golden MacGuffin. The MacGuffin's power is simply that everyone wants to hold it. Only the most powerful of Gods are immune to this magic - everyone will want it, until it is destroyed, but of course nobody wants to destroy it. It was created by the evil sorceress Rose White over a millennium ago, but banished by her rival, a witch named Red Poppy, to the depths of the Earth. Now its magic has returned to the world, and all the world's armies are making for the mine as fast as possible. Knowing this, the dwarves have placed the MacGuffin on a big alter outside the mine, ready to be claimed by the first ones who come past.

In this RP, you will control one of the nations of Fantasy Pluviostan. To participate, just start posting. Make sure to include a brief description of your nation and how it attempts to retrieve the MacGuffin in your post. Also, include notes on the terrain and local people just in case the MacGuffin winds up in your lands.

Allowed: basic magic (creating fireballs and the like), general fantasy monsters (dragons, goblins), cool castles, impressive empires and masses of men. Disallowed: OP magic (spells that teleport the MacGuffin right to you, impenetrable barriers etc), OP monsters (literally summoning Gods to fight for you - although a God might grant a character some minor blessing), and generally playing unfair (give everyone a chance to get at the MacGuffin). For roleplay purposes, the winner of conflicts will be adjudicated by a simple die roll if there is any dispute (but players are encouraged to be humble concede defeat if they can see the other side would probably win).

Edit: Feel free to join in and have fun! :)
Edited by Larsland, Aug 26 2017, 09:04 PM.
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Area-569 the Second
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Alright, I'll bite. I don't remember what the name of my nation was, though, and thanks to KoU I cannot access the old forum. I remember Dominion was part of it, so as a placeholder let's say "Drow Dominion".
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Larsland
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Deep in the Thickleaf Forest, just beyond the Misty Mangrove swamp, there was a mighty yet reclusive nation of wood elves. Nobody dared venture near their lands, for the elves had a reputation for their ferocity. Their skill with the sword and bow was second to none. They protected the forest and all its power - from the powerful fairies, mighty unicorns and beautiful nymphs that dwelt there, to the ancient trees and tree-shepherds that kept the forest alive.

One day, King Eric the Wise was in his tree-house, studying divination from ancient scrolls, when the realization dawned on him that the MacGuffin had been found. Almost immediately, his eldest child, Princess Georgia, raced into the room.
"Father! I just ..."
"I sense it too" replied King Eric to his excited daughter, hugging her "The MacGuffin has returned to our world."
"So Red Poppy was unable to free us from that curse forever?"
"Such has long been foretold" replied King Eric solemnly "It is now our task to retrieve the MacGuffin by any means necessary."
"Father, I remember Red Poppy told me that we would never see the MacGuffin again. I was so upset for hundreds of years."
"Red Poppy must have forgotten how we elves are immortal. It is common among humans, I think, to think of time as something that begins and ends."
"But ... my mother?"
"She was a half-nymph, as you know." said King Eric, turning longingly to a portrait on his wall of a beautiful woman who looked somewhat like Princess Georgia "Her blood was stained with mortality as the price for her beauty. You, too, may yet fade away in time."
"Then we must take back the MacGuffin before it is too late."
"Indeed, sweet child. Perhaps it is best if we take back the MacGuffin in secret. It will be easier to defend here."
"I shall ask my brother Lachie to send out our elite assassins. Let them hurry after the MacGuffin."
"That is a good idea, my child. Lachie is one of my finest sons."
"It shall be done, father."
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Area-569 the Second
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The thunders of the Undertemple's bells resonated in the cave. Giant spiders crawled and raced through the ceiling. Far away, in the distance, a desesperate scream could be heard.

Another common day in The Heart. The Arch-Dominator Luceris IX was, as it is famously usual, enjoying his life, much to the displeasure of the priests; Lying in his bed, exotic and beautiful slaves surrounding him, the best wine available stored in a bottle in his hand. The luxurious ebony room, filled with trinkets from lands far away and claimed in the past by adventurers of all types, had been the room (Or perhaps hall is a more appropiate room?) for the many rulers that came before Luceris, both better and worse.

"Now," He said to his slaves, who mostly were asleep and drunk, "I have some arch-dominator stuff to do. You will wait for me here, my dears" And as such he rised, bottle still in hand. He put on some fancy clothes, made of fine spider silk, some fancy boots, jeweled with the people's taxes, and his royal amulet, sported by saints and criminals alike.

He walked out the room into the bussy halls of the royal palace. Bureaucrats and servants ran from one place to the other, frantically carrying papers and tools, respectively. Luceris, however, was not too keen on taking things too seriously, so he simply calmly walked among the masses of futility. Despite having lived in a cave his entire life, he needed a fresh breath of air. As such, his quiet walk was directed to the Meditatorium, a especial section of the palace made for, as the name implies, calm and meditation, with large holes that allow for both natural light and fresh air.

After having opened the marbled doors of the Meditatorium, he walked to one of the simple chairs below the light of the sky and sat on it. It appeared to be a cloudy day on the exterior. The damned island never appeared to have anything else than cloudy days. Luceris sighed, and at least enjoyed the air.

Some minutes later, a young woman approached the Arch-Dominator. It was the Archmage of the Dominion, Kalaneth.

"My lord..." The woman quietly said. Her appearance could be kept through magic, but her voice still aged. Despite her best treatments, she may not live another millenium. All because of a drop of orc blood.
"Hmm?" Luceris simply muttered. He was half-asleep and didn't quite appreciate the interruption. "What is it?"
"The MacGuffin. It has been found in a mine" She said.
The arch-dominator opened his eyes and looked at the witch.
"Remind me again, what was the MacGuffin and how do we get it?" He said.
The mage smirked. "It's a simple relic, but it has a powerful curse on it; Everybody wants it"
"Well..." Luceris confusedly started, "... I don't differ, but why?"
"It's a long story. An evil sorceress had created it. Maybe because of some pretentious metaphor about greed that she wanted to make... To be honest, I forgot the reasons, despite her telling me directly in my face. Those was good times..." She reminisced, melancholically, before shaking her head and continuing; "Regardless, the MacGuffin is simply wanted for the sake of it. As to how do we get it? We should probably send an expedition to the map"
Luceris nodded. "Give me some time. I'll assemble a party. Small, let's not offend the dwarves"
Kalaneth nodded, too, and bid her farewells. The ruler was left alone in the open monastery.
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Larsland
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Late at night, under cover of darkness, a handsome teenage elf named Lachie swung from vine to vine as though he were Tarzan, catapulting himself right out of the Thickleaf Forest and landing in a small clearing just before the Misty Mangrove Swamp. After landing, three dozen others fell one-by-one behind him silently. The entire party was lightly dressed, with clothing made of leaves and dark undergarments. Some had light weaponry, others none at all. Lachie himself had a shortbow strapped to his back with a vine, and a few arrows in a simple makeshift quiver among the leaves. Against the backdrop of the trees, the group were barely visible.

"Tonight we cross the swamp" whispered Lachie almost silently to the sensitive elf-ears behind him "Tomorrow, we sneak across the Plain of Blue Skies towards the Mountain of the Mine. There stands our object - the Golden MacGuffin."
Behind him, the elves nodded silently in unison.
"Let's go" whispered Lachie as he crept into the mangroves.

As the party crept, the light-footed left not even a trail in the muddy water between the mangroves. Indeed, the mangroves themselves seemed to move around to keep the party hidden or to allow the elves easier passage. Prince Lachie himself led the way through the swamp, the other elves following in a small group, occasionally casting spells to check for danger or saying prayers that they would take the MacGuffin first.
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Area-569 the Second
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It was noon when the ship arrived to the shore of dwarven lands. Dropping the anchors, the members of the party assembled on the deck. Thirty members in total; Twenty soldiers, six scouts (Which in drow society tends to be a synonim for assassin), and four mages. All of them had very dark skin, even for drows, and long white hair; The sign of nobility.

The captain of the party, Imhrys, a minor noble seeking recognition, gave a small purse full of silver to the ship's captain.
"Here, this belongs to you now. We'll handle the rest" He said. The marine captain, a human whose height may mix him up with a dwarf, simply nodded,

Imhrys gave the order to abandon the ship. The soldiers walked down a ramp, the scouts jumped from the deck, and the mages levitated. In any way, they all got to the beach.
The young noble took a map from his satchel. If his predictions were correct, he was northwest of the mine, and would have to go through a forest and some drylands before reaching the mountains.

No problems seemed likely. Sure, technically having military units in foreign lands was an act of war, but what could a few dwarven peasants do against glorious dark elves?
"Nothing", Imhrys thought to himself. The mission had to be a success. With confidence, he turned to his soldiers, "The Golden MacGuffin is not but only a few steps away! Let's make our nation proud!" He exclaimed, as some rather unenthusiastic soldiers nodded. Imhrys marched into the forest, boots stepping through the wet sand, a clear objective in his mind.
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Area-569 the Second
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OOC: You gonna post, Lars?
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Larsland
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OOC: I suppose I might as well.

IC: The following evening, the party of assassins crept across the Plain of Blue Skies. Conveniently, the Mountain of the Mine was a large and easily-found landmark, so there were no navigational issues. The elves made good time, their light armor and little equipment allowing them to move at a great pace. Nonetheless, come dawn, the party were exhausted at the base of the mountain.

"The temple is a short climb up" noted Prince Lachie "If it were not for the secrecy of our mission, we could easily have retrieved it with the aide of unicorns already. Rather I think it best that we simply keep watch at the foot of the mountain."

The elves quickly established a schedule for patrols through the area, and found some safe-looking trees and shrubs to sleep in. With the base of the mountain watched, the elves rested and prepared themselves for the climb on the following day. Prince Lachie himself fell asleep quickly, being exhausted by the party's quick march.
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Area-569 the Second
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OOC: Sorry for taking a while, having a real writer's block over here fueled by back pain. Gonna continue tomorrow.
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Area-569 the Second
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OOC: Let's get this fucker done.

IC:

On the horizon, the peak of Mountain of the Mine could be seen. The drow soldiers relentlessly marched on; They walked on a slow but steady walk, their armors bringing them down, the lingering thought of the whip bringing them forward, the scouts always several steps ahead, jumping from the branches and scaring off many a flock of birds.

They were fortunate. The waters brought the ship to a coast relatively close to the mountain. Surely, the gods shined upon them, as did their Dominator's aristocratic grace. Imhrys leaded the party, as the dusk settled in and the last rays of sunlight fell on his back. He didn't mind; Drows belonged in the dark. Quite literally, as a matter of fact, as their skins are sensitive to sunburns and their eyes are easily irritated by the light. Not that this made them any less of the master race, of course.

They came across a small town. Or what was left of it, at least; The ruined, burned houses, built around a similarly destroyed inn, suggested a recent but still brutal demise. Tribal markings left no doubt; Orcs were to be blamed for this.

"Monstruous," The captain muttered, "But useful" He turned to his soldiers. The scouts already looked at him from the ceiling of the inn; The mages seemed interested in investigating what actually happened. "We shall rest here tonight," The captain said, "If you find anything useful, take it, but don't take more than what you can carry; Avarice can even kill empires" The irony of the statement was lost to him, "Three of you will guard the place. Make sure nobody attacks us. The rest can eat their rations and rest until midnight, then we shall march once more"

After saying this, whispers of glee could be heard as the formations disbanded. Soon, a small campfire was lit; The soldiers either practiced in the mud or slept in the houses, the mages studied the one single book left in the village like if it was the Book of Gods, and the scouts made their usual quips and practical jokes on the soldiers that made them very much hated among the divisions of the military.



Meanwhile, far away, the laws of nature and society mix in a barbaric tribe that all civilizations share their hate for and somehow yet haven't managed to hunt down.

It was the orcs. A tribal warband, which went by the pretentious name of the Kingdom of Je-Kqi-Ghur (Actually written as the Kandem of Je-Kqi-Ghur, but few orcs have been registered to be literate as of the Fourth Age of the Drow Civilization), was celebrating it's first feast ever.

"Ey, lad, bwing me dat beer!" The shout of a raider said. The answer was a simple yet effective; An axe stuck in the orc's forehead. Around the tribal fire, thunderous laughters sounded, exclaimed by the deceased orc's old comrades.

It was a nomadic tribe. A hundred and twenty two orcs, plus a few thralls of different races (Most of which would more appropiately be named as "Livestock"), were sharing the spoils and meat from a recent raid on a nearby village. It was their first raid; The first victory of the King (Kang, actually) Krust I The Wise, who claimed control over the mountain, the mine and the surrounding forests. But it certainly wouldn't be the last.

The king, a surprisingly sharp but unsurprisingly rude orc of great strenght, came out of his tent. Surrounding the tent were several others; All of the same size. Orcs prided themselves on having a king who was an equal to his servants, but cooler, and who wasn't linked to any dumb tradition like that of the other weak races, but instead his servants chose to follow him, or even her on certain occassions. Regardless, in the center of the campsite lied the fire where all the other orcs feasted. The king approached it, unleashing a powerful roar to catch his men's attention.

"My comrades!" The king exclaimed, receiving cheers from the hoard, "Our last victory is one to be remembered. It was, after all, the founding of a great kingdom that will outlive all others!" Once again, cheers. "But we shall not grow restless and weak while our enemies, our prey, take all the loot. No; A village is not all that we can achieve! We shall raid their castles, their cities, their empires!" Thunderous claps. An orc began to sing before the king raised his hand to demand silence. "And now, we shall prove who we are. We shall prove that we are not just sheep in wolve's cloathings; We are wolves in plain sight!" Confused gazes. The orcs struggled to understand the analogy. The king sighed, "Regardless, I've sacrificed one of our men-loot to The-Hand-Beyond. And the Hand, praised be, showed me the way to our next conquest, to our birthright, to our position in the sun; The Golden MacGuffin"

A tension was suddenly built. It was the tension of greed; Despite their ignorance, there was something new that they wanted for themselves. But this quickly faded as they looked at the tents and realised that Krust's possessions were their possessions. "All the other races want this thing for themselves. The fools! It lies in our mountains, and as such it is ours. Well, we shall claim it for ourselves and defend what is ours! Now tell me, orcs; Will you stay here and be forgotten as a sheep, or follow me and forever live in the scrolls of history as a wolf?" Cheers, louder than ever before on the tribe's short life. The analogy was still a mystery to them, and yet they felt compelled to follow their leader. And as such, the next day the horde would march on to show the world an orc's worth.
Edited by Area-569 the Second, Sep 6 2017, 02:22 AM.
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