Complete Main Story (Red Fever C - Explorers League) To Boldly Go

[Herculean Drakecon]

125 / 125

Red Fever (3) angry

A heavily armored footstep crushed old skeleton bones underneath herculean's boot. A wave of melancholy had washed over him as he had gotten lost in sunken ruins. Taking a moment to try to shake it off of him by pinching the bridge of his nose and collecting his thoughts. He was fairly new to the game still getting used to the strange situation of the virtual reality feeling absolutely real. Herculean looked around after a moment before thinking that maybe he wasn't going right away. All of the other people had gotten a bit of pace before him but due to his bulky size-speed wasn't something he had mastery in yet. His eyes adjusted eyes in seeing the jade on the ground picking up and examing it. His display showed nothing special than from some distance away he heard voices. He heard a hard splash then a call for help, but he wasn't sure what they saying but close enough that he could follow the sounds. With his muscular frame, he had extra not trigger any kind of trap or something on the way.

Herculean had his battle-ax on his hip with his kite shield a flat top on his secured on his back. His armor was akin to crusader armor without the helmet. The sunken ruins weren't his first choice but between his armor and body type it was better to be ground then the air. getting closer he clearly heard someone call out to someone else. Picking up the pace a bit before seeing two people as he got closer to them. He cocked an eyebrow as he saw the stairs leading to them. Their voices echoed now so he went down them. Being a bit more careful but the sound of heavy armor would've most likely made some kind of noise on the way, Finally, his vision focused on @Crimson Ruby and @Shane. Herculean would take a moment to see crimson rudy leaning on the wall. While Shane seemed to well either entertained or at least worried about her. Greeting with a nod and a wave introduced himself assessing the situation.

"Oi hello, I had gotten lost since the start of the race and heard a splash and your voices. Figured I'd figure out where the hell I am and help. The name is herculean by the way what your names so I can be a bit more respectful. Hey is horses and all that jazz ya know so what's the situation right now? Do you need to carry you till you can walk or something?"

Rolls

1d6 (1) = 1
herculean | Red Fever (3) | 550C5C

Mastery Check
1d100 (6) + 0 = 6
Crush Weapons | Herculean Drakecon | 550C5C

Point of Interest: Sunken city
Survey Progress: 2277/1500
Play Sheet Link

 

[Seigi Ling Ling]

205 / 220

-10 event
+20 heal
Unaffiliated
Red Fever Emotion: Anger!

A thousand thinks went through Seigi's mind as she, effectively, was going on an adventurous stroll together with Cain. Would it turn out awkward? Would they talk about what happened? Catch up about the past? Go on that scheduled date she had, ultimately, not forgotten?

He has long forgotten us!

Seigi shook her head. She wasn't here for some cheesy midnight romance. She had been here to help the mission and ensure no fatalities. Though that, too, was kind of naught for now, considering Cain wasn't a newbie himself.

Luckily for Seigi, however, @Gideon seemed to be curious about the city, too! Meaning it wouldn't just be Cain and Seigi...

What a wench!

"Shut up..." She murmured to herself. Gosh, just what was happening to her? First so sad, and now — despite the fact she was with Cain — angrier... angrier than usual!? Seigi Ling Ling really felt like punching someone right now.

It'd be easy, so easy, to snap her neck...
Cain's feelings died, too...
So we should just all make them suffer...

"SHUT UP!" Seigi called out, once again. Punching a hole into a bug-filled tree besides her. Bad idea. Lots of bites. "Ah..." She looked at the two.

Gosh. Just what was she doing? That dumb bitch was so noisy right now! And worst of all? Seigi wasn't even sure if that was really her, or herself! Just, confusing. Right?

"I..." Seigi murmured to herself, before noticing the Fallen Tree. It had been quite concealed indeed, but Seigi's Dungeon senses were on point. And boy was she craving to just punch some monsters.

"HEY, YOU TWO! There's something wrong with me - BUT - my heart goes doki-doki, and I feel really excited and happy." Must have been his dazzling heals. "Even if it's all so sudden. BUT... but. I also just feel really, really... angry. And any second we're spending not having ANY MORE action is a second I'm getting closer to NOT having a friggin good time."

Seigi had dealt years with channeling her emotions in certain ways. 4x modifier?! PAH! She'd need to get hit by at least double that!

"So, you see all these creepy crawlies on that tree? My Dungeon Senses are tingling. Let us OBLITERATE all of these UNWORTHY VERMIN and find out what's inside!"

Despite her anger, Seigi's senses were sharpened, though one wrong move and her fist might just punch the wrong target.

Rolls

Red Fever
1d6 (1) = 1
Seigi Ling Ling| Red Fever (3) | 550C5

Expertise Check
1d100 (66) + 50 + 15= 131
Awareness | Seigi Ling Ling | 550C5C

Point of Interest: Lost City
Survey Progress: 2408/1500
Play Sheet Link

 

[Yugam]

100 / 100

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (3) Fear x4

Dropping into the game for the first time had been one hell of an experience so far. And apparently, it was a much bigger deal than the Ari had originally thought. Aside from being dropped in what was essentially the middle of nowhere, a quick examination of himself confirming that he had all his faculties had revealed a thick, red bracelet of threads loosely tied around his left wrist. Most peculiarly however, was the appearance of a severed strand, hanging limply from the bracelet and fluttering gently in the breeze. The new player had first opened up his inventory (which had taken him a couple seconds of making random gestures in the air to figure out how to actually access his UI) and was surprised to see that nothing would indicate he had some kind of accessory equipped. Strange...

After that, things had happened in a sort of blur. A couple players found him, directed him to a place called Embertorch, and then he was off on an expedition. Or a tutorial? Something. He'd kept to the outskirts, so when everyone had begun to break off into small groups Yu had been left...alone...

And so, wandering through the sunken remains of...uh...what was this? A city? Temple? Something like that...anyways, wandering around alone through a bunch of creepy ass ruins alone was not great for one's mental health. The hair on the back of his neck rose, standing at attention. His hands felt clammy. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. This wasn't like him. The Fever? The thought sent ice cold fear through his chest.

Quiet muttering. The sound of thick, heavy liquid striking metal. Another cold chill ran down his spine as his senses alerted him to something going on nearby. Were they sure this place was abandoned? Clenching his jaw so forcefully he thought his teeth might crack so as to not let out some kind of pitiful sound, Yu carefully crept towards the sounds and peered around a mossy stone corner. A dark haired man (@Jin ) bled himself before some kind of statue. Were they...a player?

Slinking back behind the corner and pressing his back to the wall, Yu took a deep breath. Did he approach? Greet them and hope they were a friendly player? Did he wait to what they did? Too much, too much for a first play of a game. Fuck why did he log in to this shit?

Rolls

1d6 (5) = 5
Yugam | Red Fever (3) | 550C5C

1d100 (55) + 0 + 15 = 70
Awareness | Yugam | 550C5C

Point of Interest: Sunken Ruins
Survey Progress: 2478/1500
Play Sheet Link

 

[Gideon]

100 / 100

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (3) Joy
(-20 from Giant Soldier Ants, +20 from Cain's heal)

"Ants? Really?"

Gideon wasn't afraid of ants. They didn't even make her skin crawl, or freak her out a little bit, even when their little legs moved like an impatient woman drumming her fingers on a tabletop. More than anything, when the wave of insects rolled toward her, Gideon felt herself drowning in disappointment. "This is the best you can do?" she demanded of the game gods. "Some stupid bugs?" She sneered, baring her teeth at the tiny creatures as they drew nearer. She'd hoped for undead soldiers, or massive tigers, or hell, even some giant parrots or something. Ants were a complete and utter letdown.

"That's something we can agree on," Gideon called to @Seigi Ling Ling, finally turning back to her companions. "Its about time we had some action."

As the anger continued to swell inside her, Gideon stooped to retrieve a branch from the fallen tree. She hefted it once, twice, testing its weight before resting it on her shoulder like a baseball bat.

A low chuckle from just behind her sent the woman whirling around. A few paces away stood a tall, lithe figure. He was male, that much she could tell from the sound of the laugh, but the features were incredibly difficult to make out. Even the edges of the man's frame seemed to waver a bit, like a mirage across the road on hot day. The sight of him should have frightened Gideon, or at the very least, confused her. Instead, she grabbed for the most well-loved tool in her emotional toolbox. Anger.

"What are you laughing at?" she barked, jabbing her make-shift weapon in the stranger's direction. "Don't just stand there like a freaking idiot, help kill theses assholes!"

Shock bloomed across Gideon's face as the man nodded once, then shot into the ants' frontline like a bullet from a gun. Each creature he came in contact with trembled, then collapsed into a heap of twitching limbs. Before Gideon could even swing her stick, her first spirit ally had killed half a dozen soldier ants.

"Holy shit," was all she could manage, every ounce of anger suddenly replaced by a warm, pastel joy. The whitehaired warrior beamed a grin at Seigi and @Cain Darlite, desperate to share her happiness with those around her. "Holy shit! Did you guys see that?"

Rolls

Roll Result
1d6 (4) = 4

Gideon

Mastery Check
1d100 (88) + 0 + 15 = 103

Spirit Magic | Gideon | 550C5C

Point of Interest: Lost City
Survey Progress: 2581/1500
Play Sheet Link

 

[Gwyn ap Herne]

230 / 230

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (3) Sadness

The birds that flew around and settled on the branches were brilliant motes of energy. She couldn't help but be brought away from her irritation given the myriad of beauty. She wasn't fool enough, or at all, to go petting wild animals without her ability enforced upon them first. These creatures weren't useful to her anyway. Magic through and through.

Plus, she had a winged companion... lost, though she may be, Gwyn couldn't help but shy from the thought of replacing her with some pretty little creature. The fire swan was a warrior. Gwyn would just carry back news of the little birds to fellows of hers with a more arcane build. She endeavored not to think of how many of those were lost. She wondered if Ashiore would laugh at the silly displays of the flowered finches that flared their tails to create different blossoms. The sunflower one looked ridiculous. She wondered if Corvella could employ the illusory doves or it Nalla could watch a flaming songbird without the memories of her own flight and fall tainting it.

The huntress shifted to watch @Lady N dart about across the branches further away. In such open air, her words shouted to her and @Alkaid Zexis were carried clearly. She smiled softly, but it felt weak. Everything was quiet, standing in the presence of paradise. No one she wanted to share it with was here.

Glad you're enjoying yourself up here, N. You ever try free climbing? And hope you're not scared of heights, Alkaid... you find something over there? Just a bunch of magic birds up this way.

At least she could pretend she didn't feel like her heart weighed a ton behind her sternum.

Rolls

Mastery Check
1d100 (91) + 25 + 15 = 131
Hyper Sense | Gwyn ap Herne | 550C5C

Point of Interest: Canopy Sprawl
Survey Progress: 2712/1500
Play Sheet Link

 

[Rook the Quick]

100 / 100

Explorer's League
Red Fever (3) Joy

A scattering, tumbling, rainstorm-stream of footfalls drummed against the jungle floor. Patpatpatpat!

Rook the Quick was here!

He was quick in the way that a spider was quick, in the way that only eight legs (or two very fast-moving legs) could take one in any direction on the turn of a pinhead, on a whim, on a wish. He chased worlds and wonders, he ran from responsibility, and he tore through the broad jungle like it was set on a downhill slope (he only gained speed as he went on!)

Zooooom!
Patpatpatpat.

He wasn't supernaturally fast. This wasn't magic. He just ran. There was no secret, no power, no statistics. It was the logic of a child on a one-way track to the front door. Destination before journey.

The closest distance between two points was a straight line.

The whistle at his neck bobbed over his shoulder as he sped through giant ferns and over loamy soil with his pattery Rook-feet. He passed @Thousand Swords as the other player was menaced by a jade jaguar and completely failed to notice, his racing feet carrying him instead towards a tree whose trunk alone could have hosted highways.

He ran the way a machine gun shot bullets, indiscriminate and endless.

With each step, the feeling grew stronger. His heart thrummed with unbiased, undisguised joy, ecstasy pouring through every vein like bubbles of light. He imagined it filling him up, up, up to brimming, gloriously red as fine spanish wine.

Something about that image bothered him, but Rook did not pause to stop and think.

He was not here to think.

He was here to feel. And to runrunrun and patpatpat his way to grand adventure—whoever else might fall along the way.

Rolls

Expertise Check
1d100 (12) + 5 = 17 + 15
Awareness | Rook the Quick | 550C4C

Point of Interest: Jungle Floor
Survey Progress: 2744/1500
Play Sheet Link

 

[Alkaid Zexis]

90 / 145

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (3) Sadness x4

The subtle sense of awe and wonder was somewhat dampened as Alkaid listened to the resounding, low buzz of the dragonfly's wings. The reminders via Comms and the subtle brush with wildlife were a sobering reminder that disinterest from such wildlife need not be mistaken for negligence, however. Whether it be falling or entering a beast's territory, one wrong step in the right area could still bring deadly dangers.

Although perhaps she should have been more worried about something else as she quickly sifted through her UI to investigate her surroundings, whether it be that stack marker being incremented, or the fact that her Log Out button was dimmed.

That, or how just something about watching one her companions twirl in the air, full on Singing In The Rain made her feel even worse for some reason. She felt a pang of concern given the girl's most recent words, so Alkaid muttered a quiet command to one her spiritual summons to watch over her just in case.

I'm not too sure. I found a spot that looks good to use for a camp if we need one—maybe even a full base if we could get people up here? Though, I don't remember, has anyone made a camera or anything like that yet in this game? I know I saw some guy with friggin' cannon...

@Lady N @Gwyn ap Herne

Rolls

Red Fever
1d6 (3) = Sadness redux
-15 HP, cannot logout

Single Target Heal
1d20 (1) + 10 + 15 = +26 HP + 15 = +41 @ N
Spiritual Magic | Alkaid Zexis | 550C4C

Point of Interest: Canopy Sprawl
Survey Progress: 2744/1500 (healed, remains same)
Play Sheet Link

 

[Vale*]

Cycle 6C
Explorers League Expedition

Spoiler: Theme

Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, the sound reaches you just as clear. A terrific wail of a whistle, warbling and inconsistent in everything but sheer volume. It seems to pipe out a series of calls, but unfortunately to you all? It means jack all.

Those who try to follow it quickly cross paths with more experienced whistles, who are happy to point you along your way. Arlyn's found something, they say, and all hands are needed. A trail of smoke marks the rally point, the pink and gold plumes of it strange, but effective.

Those who carry on in their adventures are hunted down by the fox herself. She hops about with ease, leaping over beasts she sends running with flaming heels and sliding over roots many times her size - all with a full-grown man wrapped in at least four different ropes over one shoulder, who is champing at the bit to chomp on you. It seems one of your number has fallen to the fury (@The Guy). One by one you collect yourselves or are collected from the wandering river to the fallen cities to winding tunnels and the crowns of the treetops.

Pack it up for now, we got stuff to do!

The valley in the jungle basin you all gather in is as lush as it is oddly colorless. The air here is cool and wet, waterfalls around misting you as you pass. Nothing moves, save the water, and even the sounds of that are muted to the ear. Vines, mosses, and lichens grow over the stone walls, further dampening the sound. It does not feel ancient here. It doesn't feel dangerous. It feels like you've forgotten something here, though not one of you have ever stood foot in this region, much less this particular valley.

Then you see the statues. They are nothing like the geometric marvels in the lost city, nor the starved little god in the sunken ruin, not even the great obsidian monolith visible from the canopy. Twenty odd arms, silenced faces, sloped backs, and spider legs rise from the stone, water, and greenery.

Fuckin' dryders... (Arlyn shudders.) Everyone's heard about the spider queen, but this is. This shit is creepy! I feel like I've got spiders crawling on me now, ew, ew, ewww.

Arlyn scrubs at her arms with her claws, tongue stuck out in repulsion before she shakes herself off like a wet dog, rag dolling a furious The Guy as well.

The expedition lead continues on, her tail occasionally fluffing out when a new stone-eyed stare of another toppled giant is revealed. Finally, your party reaches the new rally point. The basin here grows deeper, cut into a channel from eons of rushing water from the jungle rains, or perhaps is just another creation of the shifting Tangleweaves. They likely aren't going to shift the way forward open and that is blocked by a towering dryder's remains. The spideress clings to the walls of the ravine, water and moss having overtaken much of her chitin. What skin she once had is unnaturally and painfully dried to the point of petrification. She is far larger than the others, but her shoulders cross a gap in the stone pathway to the other side of the jungle...

Okay, time to get giant bug hell nightmare over with. I miss the giant fuck off sea snake a couple'a years back, not gonna lie.

The other Whistles mutter about multiple cases of near drowning, everyone being half-dead from venom, and how Arlyn smelled like a wet dog when, well, wet. She growls and silence falls.

Wow, anyway, fuck was I saying? Oh, yeah! You guys got some sick finds, but suckily enough, it looks like this is our only way forward. (She hikes a thumb over her shoulder.) Big lady here has to go. Lucky us, she's already dead. Unlucky us, I left the big booms back home. So you all are gonna help me take her head off her shoulders! If you got any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace.

She doesn't wait to listen for any, and immediately begins barking orders.

Hey you, dude with the smug grin. Drop the princess and go take a crack at her while I get everyone ready.

@Schilva Flasch is gestured up to the fore, still radiating vindicated self-assurance from his masterful manhandling of Frey's flanks at the river's banks. The swordsman gracefully sets the faerin down and stands to toss his hair, a mist of river and fall water catching the light as he whips out his mirror to take in the glory of himself. It's snapped shut and, surprisingly without ceremony, his blade is pulled and yet another whistle is heard - this time that of the sword. He's halfway back to sheathing his sword when it happens.

Spoiler: Theme

Everyone in the area is brought nearly to their knees by a haunting sob that turns into a furious scream. Not a shred of sound echoes in the basin. It lives in your minds. It seems even the corpse of the arachnid woman refuses to go down without a fight. Every strike into the petrified chitin elicits another scream, but it changes nothing...

If the expedition intends to escape the fate of the last whistles to fall to the red fever, the torchbearers of death must light the way ahead!

Why does the weird bull always happen on my expeditions? This would never happen to Childress. Ugh. Whistles! Let's vorpal this lady! Sic 'em, big guy!

She drops the armored honey badger and readies herself for combat.

 

[Vale*]

Dryder Matron

❰ 2047 / 2200 ❱

Guidelines

• Up to 2 characters are permitted to participate in the event per cycle.
• There is no set posting order.
• Any character can join this event.
• There is no restriction for joining the event late, so feel free to hop in at anytime!
• Each character is allotted 1 post per cycle.
• Replies have a max word count of 450 words including BBcodes.
• This thread will be updated roughly every 24-36 hours.
• It is not a problem to miss a cycle, just assume your character was there and rejoin when you're able!
• Any communication can be done either by making a private comms thread or posted in Red Fever's official communication thread.
• This event thread is focused entirely on progressing the plot. If you would like to take a personal moment with others, you can make a private thread outside of this one.
• To get the most of site-wide events, try to include other characters in your reply, you'd be surprised how interacting with others can enrich your experience with this type of content.

Cycle 6C
Explorers League Expedition

Knock the block off the dryder matron to clear the path ahead for the four factions.

• To begin, choose an Action for this cycle.
  • Armor Abilities and Special Actions are not allowed.
  • Heal and Recover do not add to this cycle's progression.
• Thread Code: 550C6C.
• All rolls must be done in the #red-fever-rolls channel.
• Thanks to the expedition team's hard work, and nearly doubling the goal, you all gain a morale boost. Add +10 to your roll. If you tag other members of this sub-event, add another +15 to your roll.
• Damage: Regardless of what action you perform in combat, you will take Retaliation DMG from the psychic screams and sobs of the dead dryder. The more you injure her, the more she injures you.
  • If you deal 1 - 49 DMG, take 20 Retal.
  • If you deal 50 - 99 DMG, take 30 Retal.
  • If you deal 100 - 149 DMG, take 40 Retal.
  • If you deal 150+ DMG, take 60 Retal.
• At the moment of posting, refresh and look at the progress of the poster above you and update the total count accordingly. The progress is counting DOWN.
• Relevant Links: Spreadsheet Tracker, TLDR Play Sheet Guide, Full Play Sheet Guide, Official Comms Thread, Red Fever Effects

Spoiler: Post Template

[hp=current]max[/hp]
[status]
OO Member (Rank) / Unaffiliated
Red Fever (4) Emotion
-XX Retaliation DMG
[/status]

Post here

[action]
Bot result here
[/action]
Vorpal That Lady: 2047/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[The Guy]

107 / 175

Explorer's League Member
Red Fever (4) Fear x10
-30 HP Retaliation DMG

It was hard for Arlyn to tell, as she was spending effort to carry the raging beast rather than to ask 'how is the raging beast'? But he had long ago lost his terrible rage. Fear clutched and scraped at the inside of his chest, his muscles on the inside feeling as if those feelings were scraping them away in shreds.

Remember, Antonio-when you are afraid, you must fight.​

It made him more violent than before. He had long since been trained to remove the feeling of 'flight' from his systems when things went south-he was instructed to fight even harder-to never be allowed into a corner, no matter how bloody the other spots of the room may be.

Kill or be killed. You have to act now.​

Antonio was off of the ground before his handler had finished saying 'Sic'. He flew past @Bluebird and @Schilva Flasch beside him like an iron bolt, running straight into the violent storm of chitin and spite without hesitation. Bullets were expended on his way to fight the beast, and blades were swung when he ran out. He would slash, he would sever. He would kill so that he would survive, no matter how much damage he took to do so.

Her screams were drowned out by shellshock and the recitals of military regimen. She was a target, and he had every intention to shatter her.

Rolls

30 + 10 + 10 + 15 = 65 damage

Snicker-Snack: 1982/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[Thousand Swords]

40 / 100

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (6) Disgust

Thousand was not happy someone passed him, nor was he happy getting swatted by the jaguar before it ran away from the fight. He wanted to chase the damn thing and murder it but as they got called to regroup all he could do is growl in the direction of the creature before rushing to the new meeting point indicated by the smoke. If he passed, or rather when he next saw @Rook the Quick he would growl at the person and keep moving.

Once again told to work as a damn team, grumbling as he adjusted his weapons in his hands and just decide to walk closer to the Dryder and began a slow tapping of the blades. Each tap of the metal summoning another spectral blade around him, after the fourth he would grind the two weapons across each other to summon a final large sword and send them all towards the threat. Every bit of this was just a pile of annoyance.

"When this is over I'm going back to staying the the fucking woods avoiding you stupid ass 'friendship is power' idiots..."

Clicking the weapons together again as the screeching damaged his eardrums making him only more annoyed over this whole expedition. He would very much prefer to just fight this thing head on but could only do so much due to the amount of people and the area they had to fight it. With a sigh as he wondered if maybe he could get another attack off before he would drop dead.

Rolls

-15 Jade jaguar attack
---
Normal Attack
1d100 (74) + 5 + 5 + 15 + 15 = 114
114 damage to spider bitch
---
-40 retaliation of spider bitch

Remaining HP: 1868/2200
PSL (Play Sheet Link)

 

[Crimson Ruby]

80 / 160

Explorer's League Member (Orange Whistle)
Red Fever (4) Disgust
(-30 HP from Spider)

Being picked up by @Herculean Drakecon, Ruby found herself in an awkward situation where she was riding the shoulder of someone as if she was part of some screwed-up chivalry as they advanced through the ruins. Her eyes peeked at @Shane, swaying her tail to ring the bell. "Seems like our next target is a big one." She muttered, casting a glance at the big spider woman.

"Vorpal her? Vorpal HER!" Ruby twitched her ears, tapping the shoulder of Herculean and blowing her whistle as high as she could, "Thanks for the ride, but time for me to fight this ugly, horrible-looking thing-" Her tail wrapped around the grip of her Jian, pulling it to her hand as she prepared to jump off the man's shoulder.

"MEEEOOOOOOW!" Ruby slashed the arachnid with her blade, bursting into speed along with the dynamism that allowed her to gain height momentarily, dancing with it and using the body of the creature as a dance floor.

She couldn't fly as high as @Bluebird, but as long as there was a surface for her to touch, she remained in the air, slashing and dicing with her mortal and beautiful dance.

Rolls

Normal Attack
1d100 (30) + 15 + 5 + 20 = 70
70 damage + 10 Moral + 15 Tagging

95 total
Harmonic Magic | Crimson Ruby | 550C6C

Vorpal That Lady: 1.773/2200

Play Sheet

 

[Bluebird]

124 / 130

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (4) Joy

Bluebird is found, eventually - her tears are long dry by the time a veteran whistle finds her. If they question the odd, staggering stag trailing behind her they say nothing - they just point her in the direction of the warbling wail piercing the heavens.

---​

The air thrums with ancient emotion, snatches of woe amidst bloodcurdling screams. A long dead creature, but something yet lingers. Once again, Bluebird is filled with the desire to flee. And yet...

The group is no longer scattered. She spots friends among the crowd, and people who she doesn't know yet, but could be friends. @Crimson Ruby leaps to her own rhythm. @The Guy fights on, no matter how thick the fear clouds around him. Despite the grip of the Red Fever, they are still together, still unified against the woe and wilderness. No matter how loud the screams, the call to action is louder.

And if there is one thing Bluebird knows, it is how to be loud.

She titters forward, eyes skimming the crowd. There are those among the crowd who seem to shine brighter, somehow - a glimpse of potential marked by the stars above. She lands briefly to take a breath, and then she launches herself upward, wings wide as aeromantic wings keep her suspended above.

She opens her mouth, and sings.

Spoiler: Melody

Rise higher, fly onward​

Beyond the grasp of fever's blight!​

​

Let screams of bleak sorrow​

Be banished by our brilliant might!​

She has to stop to breathe, and with each breath she briefly falls - only to rise up once more with the next verse. She weaves her own determination into the song so that those emotions might rise beyond the Red Fever's own distortion. She puts everything she has into it, so that her voice might drown out the dryder's screams. And to those shining stars in particular she weaves her magic stronger than the rest - a gift of magic to bolster their own attacks.

Rolls

Roll Result
1d6 (4) = 4
Bluebird | Red Fever (4) | 550C6 (1-2: Anger, 3: Sadness, 4: Joy, 5: Fear, 6: Disgust)

Buff (AoE)
1d100 (35) + 10 + 5 + 10 (Morale) +15 (Tag) = 25 (Total divided by 3)
+25 buff to 3 targets for 1 post (Tagging @Gwyn ap Herne, @Seigi Ling Ling, and @Frey Elzeiros )
Harmonic Magic | Bluebird | 550C6C

Vorpal That Lady: 1773

Play Sheet Link

 

[Herculean Drakecon]

85 / 125

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (4) Anger
-40 Retaliation DMG

As he stood there with @Crimson Ruby in his arms when the sudden rage filled his mind. He could feel every bone in his body clench up in fury. He with what little control he had left put her down softly. Herculean blood boiled but then was hit by a scream that rang in his ears, What anger he was going to unleash at his new allies then turned into a rage that was pointed at the source of this scream. When he was in character selection he still the glowing button on his mastery. It didn't say how it was triggered but his beast folk helped him morph into something more. Falling to his knees he could feel this skin scale up as he turned into heroic form. Standing at seven feet tall with a long tail and saltwater gator-like features. His muscles were more defined and tight than normal. At that moment he then turned and bolted up the stairs with long thunderous steps. His armor adjusted his new form. At the top of the stairs, he could see in the distance smoke. With a loud howl, he would make his way to the dryder matron who seemed to be in battle with two other players.

When he finally saw the creature in question adrenaline got to heights he had never felt before. Putting away his shield so he could be concentrating single powerful blow with his axe. He climbs his way up a cliff over the creature Marton. He could ruby and now even more people joining in on the attack. Even in his moment of anger, he could hear beautiful singing. In what felt like a beautiful moment this world of terrosphere was more than alive. Is this what it meant to be alive hell if he knew but everyone was doing their part and it was his turn. Channeling all of his anger into motion a running leap with his ax over his head. Unleashing a heavy attack that was meant to cleave into the dryder in an overhead strike motion. He would yell at the Marton with a violent smile on his face activating passive ability taunt.

"I am about to crush you like the insect you are and are your gonna feel every a bit of it. Now come on and show me what you got"

He was suddenly hit some kind of reflect damage he didn't see coming. His body shudders in absolute pain but with his heroic form, adrenaline and anger he wouldn't feel it yet.

Rolls

Roll Result
1d6 (1) = 1
Herculean drakeson| Red Fever (4) | 550C5C

Heavy Attack
1d100 (52) + 0 + 0 + 10+15 + 20 = 82
82 damage
You cannot move this cycle
Crush Weapons | Herculean Drakecon | 550C6C
Taunt is triggered

Vorpal That Lady: 1,691/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[Jin]

91 / 120

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (4) Anger
-20 Retaliation DMG

With each moment that passed, his disappointment grew more immeasurable.

The viscera that sloshed in the plate opened no doors and revealed no paths, though he did get the blessing of some ancient, forgotten god. And the world expected him to be pleased with that result. Jin was abhorrently tired of second place. Never succeeding in a meaningful way, never seeming to make an impact, always trapped in a place of middling existence. If a god intended to acknowledge him, it ought be one of some significance.

As they once more gathered into a group, Jin and the others found themselves deeper in the turgid mire and listening to the complaints of a dead and dying group of Whistles. The Fox-Woman gave voice to her own displeasure, only adding to the loud gnashing of the Bloodsworn's own teeth as he bit back the sudden and violent urge to shut all of them up.

There was a better target for his rage.

His hatred came to life, twisting the blood that still seeped from his hand into something perverse. Something useful. The warcry that came from @Crimson Ruby drowned out the last of his rational thoughts. Singing from @Bluebird melded together with the cacophonous sounds that eroded his last pretenses of civility. There was only the command from Arlyn.

Vorpal this lady

Ordinarily, Jin might have drawn his katana. He would have performed beautifully, the white lie that was his swordsmanship. This time, the ugly truth was unfettered by reason and better judgment. An attack meant to defend became something obscene. Jin abandoned the protective nature of his Hemomantic spell and willed it into a destructive form, blackness spewing out of his wound and afflicting his viscera. The Blood Curse adapted and took on a new form.

His pale skin became ghostly white as he fed the violence. His corruption manifested as a wicked spike that drilled through the rocky carapace, drove deep, and then promptly burst. The point of impact ripped wide, a crack in the creature's defenses to be exploited.

More disturbing than that, black blood and viscous green ichor now spewed from the wound, coalescing, congealing.

Jin felt the throbbing in his hand, an ache that burned beyond pain. The wicked power that manifested exacted a heavy toll. Not only did he readily pay it-

He craved more.

"Now show me something beautiful," he bid the rest of them in a quieter, colder voice.

Rolls

1d100 (4) + 10 + 5 + 5 + 10 + 15 = 49
49 damage
Counter failed. No additional damage dealt and no damage reduction
Hemomancy | Jin | 550C6C

Vorpal That Lady: 1,642/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[Lady N]

Red Fever: To Boldy Go

60 / 140

Unaffiliated - BUT THAT'S FINE!
Red Fever (4) Joy x 10 - NO PROBLEMS HERE!
-30 Retaliation DMG - HEHEHEHE BOO! I'M DYING!!
+30 Healed from @Alkaid Zexis - BEST HEALS!

What was happening?
Where was she now?
A battle right, time to do something other than wander for once.

Chelsea remembered getting lost for a moment as she struggled to focus. Everything... was so.... darn...

INTOXICATINGLY FUN!

"Hehehee! ... I have GOT to pfffft get it together! SOOOOO STUUUUPID I AM NOT okay...., with this!

It took so much effort to even focus on that. She passed by @The Guy and nearly fell over. She was probably dying from this stupid fever that was burning like fire but it was no big deal. She had a ton of lives right?! She took a moment leaning on him to count how many times she remembered dying. Good only once!

Stumbling past @Bluebird she saw HER. Data copy from earlier.

"Reminder of the hour! YOU'RE DEAD @Seigi Ling Ling hahahaha1 Now c'mon you binary code. Let's get this pffffft over with.!

No way an NPC would attack the dazed Nexon. Only positive emotions here! It was so ridiculous, never had she been so talkative. Not one second felt like wasted time. EVERY SECOND WAS THE BEST THING EVER. With the little common sense, she had left. Chelsea aimed her arm at the giant Drydar and fired some N Slicers at it. She was too weak to even hover at this point. Somewhere in her joy-encased mania she thought of @Cain Darlite and just his annoying face from the hot spring made her want to regain some degree of control.

Hehe I'm in danger.

Rolls

Normal Attack
1d100 (8) + 10 + 10 + 25 = 53 (+25 Contrib Bonus and Tags)
78 damage
Ranged Weapons | Lady N | 55OC6C

Vorpal That Lady: 1564/2200
Stat Page

 

[Kamala Graham]

‧͙⁺˚･❀･˚⁺͙‧

72 / 130

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (3) Anger x10
-30 HP from rolling the same emotion as C5
-40 HP from retal bracket
+20 HP from @Laylabelle's Protection

Kamala was already angry at the thought of dying out here all alone. Whatever the heck that wailing was? It only added to her annoyance. She tried to hunt it down and give it a good wailing back, but as soon as she came across the others, she was informed of the true goings-on. That also did not sit well with Kamala, although she did finally catch of glimpse of @The Guy, which, after losing him a while back, made her feel a bit relieved. It was one thing for her to die out here all alone. It was another to have someone else she had seen just disappear, only to die out here alone.

"What the hecking heck is that hecking thing?!"

Kamala's curiosity was immediately satiated by the experienced Whistlers, but that did nothing to curb her rising anger. Gritting her teeth, she tried her best to withstand the creature's screaming, but it was nigh impossible. Still, the furious Beastfolk would not be denied, and at the peak of her anger, she called forth the sapling sprite Greenleaf the Bold, a Sprout wielding a sharp blade made out of a tiny magical leaf, who immediately sprung into action to strike the foul creature, only to poof back into nature's magical energy after the contact.

❰ Greenleaf the Bold ❱

Greenleaf, perhaps empathizing with the girl, appeared to be less wholesome this time, glowing red, with his eyes burning furiously. There was not enough time for a reunion between the two close friends, or even just a briefing, as the creature instinctively screamed at Kamala in turn. It was the kind of scream that you just don't hear: You also think it. Kamala's ears weren't the only thing of her assaulted, but she was also now feeling a splitting headache that she just had to scream against.

"SHUT THE HECK UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Rolls

Roll Result
1d6 (2) = 2 (Anger)
Kamala Graham | Red Fever (4) | 550C6

Normal Attack
1d100 (66) + 10 + 5 + 10 + 15 = 106
106 damage
Nature Magic | Kamala Graham | 550C6C

Vorpal That Lady: 1458/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[Sol]

☀˚̣⋅ .

115 / 165

Explorer's League Member - Orange Whistle
Red Fever [ 3 ] Someone's feeling a lot sad...

Sol had little time to recover from the siren attack, but thankfully as her body relaxed and her jaw unhinged, the feeling of fear quickly gave away. However, it quickly changed to something else. Something much darker, and much deeper.

From that moment forward, things quickly became a blur. She followed behind @Laylabelle, @Schilva Flasch, and @Frey Elzeiros, jogging behind them with her eyes plastered on the ground in front of her as if it was the only thing keeping her in step. If she was ever spoken to, she would simply nod quietly in reply regardless to what the question was, even if it was something that she usually would say no to. She seemed almost empty, the world around her moving in slower motion than it had been before, the fast turning gears in her head taking up all the space.

Instead of the anger from earlier, something new had sprouted, thoughts spilling out like a well that had been just at the tip of overflow into her brain. Although they were similar to the thoughts from earlier partially directed at a blue figure not far away from her, they had mutated into something more with all the fingers pointing backwards at her.

What was wrong with her? It's all your fault. Why was she so unlikeable? You deserve it, with the way you treat others. Why did she ignore him? It's because you know that he's too good for you. Why did she push others away so much? You're an awful, scary person. Why is it that she kept fucking up? You deserve everything that you are dealing with.

I am the worst.

She was snapped out of her thoughts back to reality as the spider-queen screamed. Instead of shielding herself from the loud noise, Sol immediately slid her finger along her arm quicker than she ever had before, a blood sword forming in air as she rushed forward. Swiping her sword at the chitin in front of her, she strikes as hard as she can.

And then she falls to her knees, sword that she had just been holding a second ago crumbling into dust once more as a choked sob escapes her lips. Her shaking hands rose to her face as she covers herself, hiding the tears that dribbled down her cheeks and in-between her fingers. Except where these tears would normally be barely discernable to the human eye, this time, they weren't.

They were black.

Rolls

Normal Attack
1d100 (49) + 15 + 10 + 10 + 15 + 18 = 117
117 damage
Hemomancy | Sol | 550C6C

Vorpal That Lady:
1341/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[Yugam]

76 / 100

Unaffiliated
Red Fever (4) Fear x10

-30 HP from Red Fever
-20 HP from Dryder Matron retaliation
+26 HP from @Cain Darlite
+18 damage dealt from @Gideon

"Hey, you two!"

Before Yugam even had a chance to think, the man spun around and drew his sword, swinging it wildly at the voice with a wild look in his eyes.

"Hey, hey! Settle down!" the voice commanded, an older looking fellow with a comforting voice and countenance. "Something big is happening, you two should go group up with the others, and bring any others you find on the way with you," he said, before moving past them to find more explorers.

Breathing heavily, Yu took a moment to close his eyes and inhale deeply. 'This is a game,' he reminded himself. 'Everything's fine.'

Everything was not fine.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" the man shouted over the miserable screeching of the undead spider lady before them as he covered his ears and screwed his eyes shut. 'C'mon man, this isn't like you, you gotta move,' a voice in his head said as others leapt into action around him. 'Move! It's just a game!'
'Yeah, but it's gonna fucking hurt!' said another voice.
'Since when has pain ever held you back?'

The Dryder began to screech again, drowning out the voices in Yu mind, replacing it with a deafening ringing that set alight all the neurons of his virtual brain, sending sensations of pain through his body. Someone else (@Bluebird ) began to sing, and another (@Herculean Drakecon ) taunted the monster. Everything mixed and jumbled together, creating a cacophony of sound.

"Would you all just shut UP!"

The dark-haired player drew his katana, his thumb pressed to the blade, slicing the soft flesh and slicking the edge with blood. Droplets of scarlet flung themselves from the arcing blade, crystalizing in the air into small bullets, pelting the undead Matron with little effect.

Rolls

Roll Result
1d6 (5) = 5
Yugam | Red Fever (4) | 550C6C

Counter
1d100 (6) + 0 + 0 +10 + 15 + 18 = 49
49 damage
Counter failed. No additional damage dealt and no damage reduction
Hemomancy | Yugam | 550C6C

Vorpal That Lady: 1292/2200
Play Sheet Link

 

[Blader X]

56 / 100

MIT Member (0-Fixer Rookie)
Red Fever (4) Disgust
-30HP Emotional Bingo Damage
-40HP Retaliation DMG
+26HP from @Cain Darlite Healing (Later in post cycle, TY Cain!)

A lot had happened but Laylabelle now found herself fighting a psychic screaming spider ghost. She should have seen this coming in the foreshadowing from the rivershark, beetle shell shield, glowmoss, and Schilva.

More seriously though, Laylabelle's heart ached at the sound of the psychic screams. She would even be willing to try and help the creature, if it wasn't in the process of killing her party. Laylabelle had one job, and that was to guide others to safety, it didn't matter if it was in real life, or this real life. Yes, they were both real life, wake up people!

Laylabelle's eyes scanned the field from the backline. There were too many people overextended, but she couldn't help them all. One at a time and trust the others. That was what it meant to be part of a team.

Laylabelle found what appeared to be a beastkin summoner. @Kamala Graham

"Maverick! Goose! Iceman! Help her! I'll provide support!"

"BOOF!" x3

Laylabelle saw her three Wolf-o-Wisps move in front of Kamala where they howled in spirit resonance to try and stave off some of the awful sound.

"Ghhh, just hold stead Lay... and take the shot!"

Gritting her teeth, Laylabelle found the point where the two spirit wails met, the doggy and the spider ones, and let loose a powerful spirit arrow.

We can't keep this up much longer... hopefully someone figures out something while I do what I can...

Laylabelle was getting woozy, but a Fixer never left until all were returned safely.

Rolls

@Plutopia
Roll Result
1d6 (6) = 6

Laylabelle | Red Fever (4) | 550C6 (1-2: Anger, 3: Sadness, 4: Joy, 5: Fear, 6: Disgust)

@Plutopia
Normal Attack
1d100 (67) + 10 + 0 + 25 = 102
102 damage

Guard Arts | Laylabelle | [B]550C6C[/B]
@Kamala Graham = PROTECTED (Retroactively reduce incoming damage by half, +20hp)

Vorpal That Lady: 1190/2200 (STAND BACK I'M GONNA VORP....!)

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