As a quick foreword; This Quest will be using vanilla Dark Souls II as its setting; I do not own...
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Priority: Drangleic - A Mass Effect/Dark Souls II Quest
- Thread starter Riddle78
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Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
As a quick foreword; This Quest will be using vanilla Dark Souls II as its setting; I do not own Scholar of the First Sin. Furthermore,I have a very deep,working knowledge of Mass Effect's lore,and have a fairly comprehensive grasp of what's going on in Dark Souls II. Furthermore; Be glad I didn't settle on Adept Shep; You don't want someone who hates primary needs mechanics to be implementing a primary needs system. So,let's have a fun little crossover quest,eh?
Which is why you were on the Citadel now,getting your ass kicked by a VR combat sim.
The Turian VI chimed in as,once again,you were kicked out of your Super Elite Collectors match,because,once again,five possessed Praetorians mobbed you,with Scion support. Needless to say,it was not fun. However,you felt that you were getting closer.
"Commander Shepard,this is your twentieth consecutive loss on this configuration. Would you like to change your settings?"
You threw a baleful glare at the VI's projection,a female Turian. You were certain that a Turian would consider it to be attractive,but you personally could barely tell the difference between the sexes of the species. Your reply was immediate,and rather expected,
"No. If I tone it down,I won't get better,after all."
You approached the weapon bench,which was used to configure the loadout that you'll use inside the simulation. Stroking your chin in thought,you considered your options. Collectors rely on armour and biotic barriers for protection. So,you need to counteract those,which mandates a diverse loadout. Not exactly difficult. You select your favourite close quarters weapon,the Graal Spike Thrower,and throw on both the Shredder Mod and High-Velocity Barrel; Overpenetration of this magnitude ensured that the concept of cover was a fantasy,to the weapon. Combined with the weapon's ruinous stopping power,the barrel attachment meant that it outright ignored several layers of defences. One fully charged shot to the face was more than enough to kill even Scions.
Next was your general purpose weapon; Without question,the best in class for you was the N7 Typhoon; A "light" machine gun only in name,this monster was more at home mounted to a vehicle than at a soldier's shoulder. And the weapon was able to overpenetrate light cover without assistance,making just the ultimate jackknife in your arsenal. You attach a Piercing Mod and Extended Barrel to further accentuate the weapon's biggest strengths; Stopping power,and penetration.
Next on the docket was the Javelin,a sniper's weapon of Geth design. With enough stopping power to rival even the legendary M-98 Widow,this thing allowed you to reach out and touch someone... Regardless of cover. Installing a Piercing Mod and High Velocity Barrel,you more than triple the weapon's penetration depth,meaning that with the weapon's proprietary high-resolution thermal scope,you could identify targets behind cover,then turn their heads inside out.
Finally,almost as an afterthough,you select the M-358 Talon as your sidearm; Cerberus might be rotten to the core,but you're not one to say no to a good weapon design; This tiny pistol fires a spray of high velocity projectiles like a heavy shotgun,providing more stopping power than even the venerable Carnifex or Paladin. And its ammo blocks were even configured as a revolver's cylinder,as to ensure waste heat would not cause jams. Offhandedly slapping on a Piercing Mod and Cranial Trauma System,you turn the thing into a savage head-exploding pocket shotgun.
You briefly entertain the notion of packing a submachine gun,but decide against it; Anything an SMG can do,any one of your other weapons can do,and better.
You quickly select your armour; Hahne-Kedar everything,and the Kestrel Helmet.
"Alright,I'm ready. Hit it."
The VI gave an affirmative,and engaged the simulation. You step through the threshold in your naval officer's blues,and wait for the simulation to begin in earnest.
What you got wasn't what you ordered.
You were alone,as far as you could tell without seeing. So,you open your eyes,and pick yourself up. The first thing you notice is that,indeed,you were lying on a stone platform,seemingly the remains of some old,ruined gazebo. You were in a clearing,surrounded by grass tall enough to reach your waist,though on three of four sides,it quickly surrendered to sheer drops. The fourth side led to a path between a pair of rocky outcroppings,which was also the direction of the local light source; The fissure in the distance suggested that you were in some sort of cave,though the fact that the plateau you were on being surrounded by enormous trees threw that suggestion into question.
You quickly examine your belongings; You're still wearing your dress blues,though your kinetic barrier projector was missing from your belt. Your Graal Spike Thrower was folded up at the small of your back,and a quick examination revealed it to have a fresh thermal clip,though you had no others in your possession. Furthermore,the shotgun had the Shredder and HV Barrel mods that you so enjoyed. You lacked any of your other weapons,however. Much to your relief,you had your omni-tool,though it seems to have had almost all of its functions removed; It seems that all it can do is fabricate blades,and function as a flashlight. Without your armour,you had precious little in the way of protection,and your medi-gel was missing with it.
You were caught in every soldier's nightmare scenario. No intelligence. No support. No materiel. No supplies. In potentially hostile territory.
Why does this shit always happen to you?
Taking a moment to sigh to yourself,you wonder what would be worse? An interview with al-Jilani,or this. After a moment of thought,you settle on the interview being worse; That woman was a fucking bitch. It was only by some miracle that you didn't break her jaw,yet. You begin a slow approach to the path through the rocks,wary of ambush. It was the only intelligent choice; If you stayed put,you were a sitting duck,and death by exposure or malnutrition were likely. Moving out at least offered the potential for everything you needed.
You reach the opening between the rocks without incident,and are greeted with yet another clearing; This one had a seemingly well-trodden path running through it,and piles of bones were scattered about. You spotted movement in the grass,but it seemed to be moving away from you; Whatever it was,it seemed,didn't seem all too keen of picking a fight with a person. Still,you cross the clearing with caution,and alacrity. Furtive animals rarely stayed so for long. You reach the rope bridge on the far side,and gaze down over the side; What you see is hardly comforting. While yes,there was water down there,there's no telling what was in it,how cold it was,or if there was a current... Not to mention that the surface was about fifty feet down; A plunge would be like slamming into concrete.
You cross the bridge,thankful that it was solidly built; The boards creaked and flexed,but they didn't crack. Taking a moment to examine your new surroundings,you see that,once again,you only had one way forward; Through a wooden door that looked right at home on some sort of country cabin. Seeing no other option,you slowly approach the door,stepping carefully up the wooden porch,and peer into the lit window. Within,you see three elderly women sitting at a table in front of a fireplace,with a younger woman moving about the space,seemingly their caretaker. As of present,she was scooping some sort of stew into wooden bowls for her charges. One of the crones gestured with her hand,causing the maid to nod,and approach the door. You inhale sharply through your nose,and duck back,getting ready to fabricate an omni-blade. However,it didn't seem to be needed.
"You may come in,ser."
The maid opened the door,and stood to the side,gesturing into the home. Slowly straightening yourself,you lower your arms,and put the omni-tool to sleep. You step past the maid with a quiet word of thanks,and into the abode. The space is circular,and rather crowded; The centre of the room was dominated by a table with four chairs,which the crones occupied three of. The perimeter of the room was home to a large fireplace and cookpot,a set of wooden stairs going up,and assorted odds and ends. Everything here made you feel as if you were in Earth's old Middle Ages. Then,one of the crones spoke,
"Heh heh heh,what are you sneaking around for,my dear?"
Before you can reply,the old woman turns to face you,her mouth splitting into a wide,gap-filled grin.
"Oh,my! Your face!"
The crones have a laugh,apparently at your expense,and the rest begin to speak as well.
"The face of the curse."
Curse?
"It's an Undead."
Wait,what!?
"An Undead has come to play. Heh heh..."
Her low chuckle broke into a light cough,but another hag quickly continued.
"They all end up here. All the ones like you. You spoke to that kind old dear,didn't you?"
Alright,that's that. Time to cut this off.
"I'm sorry,but what?"
You interrupt the hags,and they seem genuinely taken aback; Hardly surprising,considering the tone you took.
"Curse? Undead? What 'old dear'? None of this makes any sense,to me. And what,exactly,is wrong with my face?"
It took a moment,but the hags recovered.
"Already so close,I see... Such important knowledge,gone. Forgotten. Can you at least remember your name?"
As you were asked this question,the maid approached you with a plate of polished metal,most likely iron or steel,and she handed it to you. Looking at the polished metal,what you see stuns you; Your face is hideous! Your skin is a sickly green,with patches missing,revealing your muscles and cybernetics underneath,glowing a ghostly white. Your eyes were featureless,which was unsettling.
You return the mirror to the maid,and answer,
Give your name.
[] Jane Shepard.
[] John Shepard.
Furthermore,to save us some time,what is in the wagon outside?
[] A torch.
[] An arming sword,blade snapped halfway down,ten faintly glowing stones,and torch.
[] A broad-bladed arming sword,ten faintly glowing stones,and torch.
[] A short-bladed arming sword,a slender curved sword with a single edge,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A flanged mace,a hand chime,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A knife,a quiver of bolts,a fat sack,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A knife,a gnarled stick,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
As an N7 operative of the Human Systems Alliance,Commander Shepard has received some of the best military training in the Milky Way,and has more experience in war than any three other soldiers in the galaxy put together. Furthermore,as a commissioned officer,Commander Shepard is also in possession of a university degree,considering that the Systems Alliance is based on the Canadian Armed Forces (Remember that BioWare is Canadian). However,very little of this would actually translate into Dark Souls. Bear this in mind; Shepard might have the stats needed to use a weapon,but Shepard more than likely will not have the skills to use the weapon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 0 - This is Dark Souls
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 0 - This is Dark Souls
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Citadel,Armax Arsenal Arena on the Silversun Strip
You're Commander Shepard,one of the finest examples of humanity in the galaxy. You've served admirably as an N7 elite soldier,and arguably the single most capable,and decorated,soldier in the Systems Alliance Navy. Name a weapon,and you know how to use it,service it,and combat it. It can be said that you live and breathe war; It's certainly dominated the last four years of your life,after all. Death be damned. That's certainly an accolade that only you can claim; You've survived death. Well,not exactly. You were dead. But,you got better. You've killed thousands of Geth. You've killed a rogue Turian Spectre. Twice. You got spaced,burnt up in re-entry,what was left crashed into the crust of a frozen planet,and you subsequently got back up. Two years later. But you still got back up. You've mastered driving both the M35 Mako and the M-44 Hammerhead,and honestly can't understand why some people consider the former to be impossible to drive in difficult terrain. You've done great things,including shouting at a bunch of fuckwits in hazard suits to acquit a member of your crew of treason,convinced the Space Punisher to abstain from punishment,killed a Thresher Maw with a handgun,and,most importantly,headbutted a Krogan Battlemaster. You're more machine than man,at this point,as evidenced when David hacked your brain. And now,the Reapers were trying to conquer the galaxy,as they do every few thousand years. However,thanks to your warnings and preparations,the galaxy at large has managed to stall them; An amazing feat. And in light of this feat,the high brass has elected to give their single most overworked asset a mandatory,non-negotiable break.
Which is why you were on the Citadel now,getting your ass kicked by a VR combat sim.
The Turian VI chimed in as,once again,you were kicked out of your Super Elite Collectors match,because,once again,five possessed Praetorians mobbed you,with Scion support. Needless to say,it was not fun. However,you felt that you were getting closer.
"Commander Shepard,this is your twentieth consecutive loss on this configuration. Would you like to change your settings?"
You threw a baleful glare at the VI's projection,a female Turian. You were certain that a Turian would consider it to be attractive,but you personally could barely tell the difference between the sexes of the species. Your reply was immediate,and rather expected,
"No. If I tone it down,I won't get better,after all."
You approached the weapon bench,which was used to configure the loadout that you'll use inside the simulation. Stroking your chin in thought,you considered your options. Collectors rely on armour and biotic barriers for protection. So,you need to counteract those,which mandates a diverse loadout. Not exactly difficult. You select your favourite close quarters weapon,the Graal Spike Thrower,and throw on both the Shredder Mod and High-Velocity Barrel; Overpenetration of this magnitude ensured that the concept of cover was a fantasy,to the weapon. Combined with the weapon's ruinous stopping power,the barrel attachment meant that it outright ignored several layers of defences. One fully charged shot to the face was more than enough to kill even Scions.
Next was your general purpose weapon; Without question,the best in class for you was the N7 Typhoon; A "light" machine gun only in name,this monster was more at home mounted to a vehicle than at a soldier's shoulder. And the weapon was able to overpenetrate light cover without assistance,making just the ultimate jackknife in your arsenal. You attach a Piercing Mod and Extended Barrel to further accentuate the weapon's biggest strengths; Stopping power,and penetration.
Next on the docket was the Javelin,a sniper's weapon of Geth design. With enough stopping power to rival even the legendary M-98 Widow,this thing allowed you to reach out and touch someone... Regardless of cover. Installing a Piercing Mod and High Velocity Barrel,you more than triple the weapon's penetration depth,meaning that with the weapon's proprietary high-resolution thermal scope,you could identify targets behind cover,then turn their heads inside out.
Finally,almost as an afterthough,you select the M-358 Talon as your sidearm; Cerberus might be rotten to the core,but you're not one to say no to a good weapon design; This tiny pistol fires a spray of high velocity projectiles like a heavy shotgun,providing more stopping power than even the venerable Carnifex or Paladin. And its ammo blocks were even configured as a revolver's cylinder,as to ensure waste heat would not cause jams. Offhandedly slapping on a Piercing Mod and Cranial Trauma System,you turn the thing into a savage head-exploding pocket shotgun.
You briefly entertain the notion of packing a submachine gun,but decide against it; Anything an SMG can do,any one of your other weapons can do,and better.
You quickly select your armour; Hahne-Kedar everything,and the Kestrel Helmet.
"Alright,I'm ready. Hit it."
The VI gave an affirmative,and engaged the simulation. You step through the threshold in your naval officer's blues,and wait for the simulation to begin in earnest.
What you got wasn't what you ordered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Location: Unknown
You come to. Somehow,you were knocked unconscious. But how? Your mind snapped into overdrive; Were you attacked? Was the arena hacked? Again? For all you know,you could be surrounded by hostiles. So,without giving any indication you were conscious,you turn the rest of your senses outward,attempting to gather critical intelligence. You were prone,on your front. The ground beneath you was rough,and cold,like stone. It certainly felt as such to you bare hands and face. And it smells like stone,too. You could feel a light,yet persistent breeze,and hear rustling foliage. Were you in a park? Straining your ears,you feel you can also hear some sort of disembodied heartbeat,slow and steady. Quite opposite to your own. However,you couldn't hear anything that would suggest intelligent company. Were you alone? Under observation? Or were they just that good? Or stupid?
You were alone,as far as you could tell without seeing. So,you open your eyes,and pick yourself up. The first thing you notice is that,indeed,you were lying on a stone platform,seemingly the remains of some old,ruined gazebo. You were in a clearing,surrounded by grass tall enough to reach your waist,though on three of four sides,it quickly surrendered to sheer drops. The fourth side led to a path between a pair of rocky outcroppings,which was also the direction of the local light source; The fissure in the distance suggested that you were in some sort of cave,though the fact that the plateau you were on being surrounded by enormous trees threw that suggestion into question.
You quickly examine your belongings; You're still wearing your dress blues,though your kinetic barrier projector was missing from your belt. Your Graal Spike Thrower was folded up at the small of your back,and a quick examination revealed it to have a fresh thermal clip,though you had no others in your possession. Furthermore,the shotgun had the Shredder and HV Barrel mods that you so enjoyed. You lacked any of your other weapons,however. Much to your relief,you had your omni-tool,though it seems to have had almost all of its functions removed; It seems that all it can do is fabricate blades,and function as a flashlight. Without your armour,you had precious little in the way of protection,and your medi-gel was missing with it.
You were caught in every soldier's nightmare scenario. No intelligence. No support. No materiel. No supplies. In potentially hostile territory.
Why does this shit always happen to you?
Taking a moment to sigh to yourself,you wonder what would be worse? An interview with al-Jilani,or this. After a moment of thought,you settle on the interview being worse; That woman was a fucking bitch. It was only by some miracle that you didn't break her jaw,yet. You begin a slow approach to the path through the rocks,wary of ambush. It was the only intelligent choice; If you stayed put,you were a sitting duck,and death by exposure or malnutrition were likely. Moving out at least offered the potential for everything you needed.
You reach the opening between the rocks without incident,and are greeted with yet another clearing; This one had a seemingly well-trodden path running through it,and piles of bones were scattered about. You spotted movement in the grass,but it seemed to be moving away from you; Whatever it was,it seemed,didn't seem all too keen of picking a fight with a person. Still,you cross the clearing with caution,and alacrity. Furtive animals rarely stayed so for long. You reach the rope bridge on the far side,and gaze down over the side; What you see is hardly comforting. While yes,there was water down there,there's no telling what was in it,how cold it was,or if there was a current... Not to mention that the surface was about fifty feet down; A plunge would be like slamming into concrete.
You cross the bridge,thankful that it was solidly built; The boards creaked and flexed,but they didn't crack. Taking a moment to examine your new surroundings,you see that,once again,you only had one way forward; Through a wooden door that looked right at home on some sort of country cabin. Seeing no other option,you slowly approach the door,stepping carefully up the wooden porch,and peer into the lit window. Within,you see three elderly women sitting at a table in front of a fireplace,with a younger woman moving about the space,seemingly their caretaker. As of present,she was scooping some sort of stew into wooden bowls for her charges. One of the crones gestured with her hand,causing the maid to nod,and approach the door. You inhale sharply through your nose,and duck back,getting ready to fabricate an omni-blade. However,it didn't seem to be needed.
"You may come in,ser."
The maid opened the door,and stood to the side,gesturing into the home. Slowly straightening yourself,you lower your arms,and put the omni-tool to sleep. You step past the maid with a quiet word of thanks,and into the abode. The space is circular,and rather crowded; The centre of the room was dominated by a table with four chairs,which the crones occupied three of. The perimeter of the room was home to a large fireplace and cookpot,a set of wooden stairs going up,and assorted odds and ends. Everything here made you feel as if you were in Earth's old Middle Ages. Then,one of the crones spoke,
"Heh heh heh,what are you sneaking around for,my dear?"
Before you can reply,the old woman turns to face you,her mouth splitting into a wide,gap-filled grin.
"Oh,my! Your face!"
The crones have a laugh,apparently at your expense,and the rest begin to speak as well.
"The face of the curse."
Curse?
"It's an Undead."
Wait,what!?
"An Undead has come to play. Heh heh..."
Her low chuckle broke into a light cough,but another hag quickly continued.
"They all end up here. All the ones like you. You spoke to that kind old dear,didn't you?"
Alright,that's that. Time to cut this off.
"I'm sorry,but what?"
You interrupt the hags,and they seem genuinely taken aback; Hardly surprising,considering the tone you took.
"Curse? Undead? What 'old dear'? None of this makes any sense,to me. And what,exactly,is wrong with my face?"
It took a moment,but the hags recovered.
"Already so close,I see... Such important knowledge,gone. Forgotten. Can you at least remember your name?"
As you were asked this question,the maid approached you with a plate of polished metal,most likely iron or steel,and she handed it to you. Looking at the polished metal,what you see stuns you; Your face is hideous! Your skin is a sickly green,with patches missing,revealing your muscles and cybernetics underneath,glowing a ghostly white. Your eyes were featureless,which was unsettling.
You return the mirror to the maid,and answer,
Give your name.
[] Jane Shepard.
[] John Shepard.
Furthermore,to save us some time,what is in the wagon outside?
[] A torch.
[] An arming sword,blade snapped halfway down,ten faintly glowing stones,and torch.
[] A broad-bladed arming sword,ten faintly glowing stones,and torch.
[] A short-bladed arming sword,a slender curved sword with a single edge,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A flanged mace,a hand chime,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A knife,a quiver of bolts,a fat sack,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[] A knife,a gnarled stick,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
Vigor: 13
Endurance: 6
Vitality: 11
Attunement: 9
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 16
Adaptability: 9
Intelligence: 7
Faith: 7
Equip Burden: 19.2/55
Soul Level: 39
Next Level: 3,149 souls
Endurance: 6
Vitality: 11
Attunement: 9
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 16
Adaptability: 9
Intelligence: 7
Faith: 7
Equip Burden: 19.2/55
Soul Level: 39
Next Level: 3,149 souls
As a note; Shepard lacks a hyperspace pocket. Whatever Shepard picks up has to be carried,or stowed properly.
Dress Blues Jacket: Torso armour. Equipped.
Dress Blues Pants: Leg armour. Equipped.
Omni-Tool: Key item. Context sensitive.
Graal Spike Thrower: Weapon. Equipped.
Thermal Clip: One. Equipped.
Dress Blues Jacket: Torso armour. Equipped.
Dress Blues Pants: Leg armour. Equipped.
Omni-Tool: Key item. Context sensitive.
Graal Spike Thrower: Weapon. Equipped.
Thermal Clip: One. Equipped.
Armour and weapons will behave very differently from Dark Souls; Instead of numbers,it will all be qualitative. As such,expect combat to take a bent towards reality. Also,I really need the accordion code,and I can't seem to find it. Anyone care to point me at the BBCode thread?
Dress Blues Jacket: Cutting defence (Sub-par)/Piercing defence (Nonexistent)/Impact defence (Nonexistent)/Sorcery defence (Nonexistent)/Lightning defence (Nonexistent)/Fire defence (Nonexistent)/Dark defence (Nonexistent)/Bleed defence (Nonexistent)/Poison defence (Nonexistent)/Curse defence (Nonexistent)/Petrify defence (Nonexistent)/Poise (Nonexistent)/Weight (2.6)
Dress Blues Pants: Cutting defence (Sub-par)/Piercing defence (Nonexistent)/Impact defence (Nonexistent)/Sorcery defence (Nonexistent)/Lightning defence (Nonexistent)/Fire defence (Nonexistent)/Dark defence (Nonexistent)/Bleed defence (Nonexistent)/Poison defence (Nonexistent)/Curse defence (Nonexistent)/Petrify defence (Nonexistent)/Poise (Nonexistent)/Weight (1.6)
Graal Spike Thrower: Piercing damage (Death)/Strength requirement (15)/Dexterity requirement (5)/Range (Short-Medium)/Ammo (Thermal Clip-3:1)/Stability (Poor)/Physical defences (Mediocre)/Magical defences (Nonexistent)/Weight (15)
Thermal Clip: Count (1)/Loaded (Graal Spike Thrower)/Shots (3/3)
Dress Blues Jacket: Cutting defence (Sub-par)/Piercing defence (Nonexistent)/Impact defence (Nonexistent)/Sorcery defence (Nonexistent)/Lightning defence (Nonexistent)/Fire defence (Nonexistent)/Dark defence (Nonexistent)/Bleed defence (Nonexistent)/Poison defence (Nonexistent)/Curse defence (Nonexistent)/Petrify defence (Nonexistent)/Poise (Nonexistent)/Weight (2.6)
Dress Blues Pants: Cutting defence (Sub-par)/Piercing defence (Nonexistent)/Impact defence (Nonexistent)/Sorcery defence (Nonexistent)/Lightning defence (Nonexistent)/Fire defence (Nonexistent)/Dark defence (Nonexistent)/Bleed defence (Nonexistent)/Poison defence (Nonexistent)/Curse defence (Nonexistent)/Petrify defence (Nonexistent)/Poise (Nonexistent)/Weight (1.6)
Graal Spike Thrower: Piercing damage (Death)/Strength requirement (15)/Dexterity requirement (5)/Range (Short-Medium)/Ammo (Thermal Clip-3:1)/Stability (Poor)/Physical defences (Mediocre)/Magical defences (Nonexistent)/Weight (15)
Thermal Clip: Count (1)/Loaded (Graal Spike Thrower)/Shots (3/3)
Knives: Master.
Arming Swords: Untrained.
Curved Swords: Amateur.
Thrusting Swords: Untrained.
Spears: Competent.
Lances: Amateur.
Hammers: Untrained.
Axes: Untrained.
Katanas: Untrained.
Fist Weapons: Master.
Unarmed: Master; Makes James Vega look like a total bitch.
Halberds: Untrained.
Scythes: Untrained.
Twinblades: Untrained.
Whips: Amateur.
Greatswords: Untrained.
Ultra Greatswords: Untrained.
Curved Greatswords: Untrained.
Greataxes: Untrained.
Great Hammers: Untrained.
Bows: Untrained.
Crossbows: Master.
Greatbows: Untrained.
Arming Swords: Untrained.
Curved Swords: Amateur.
Thrusting Swords: Untrained.
Spears: Competent.
Lances: Amateur.
Hammers: Untrained.
Axes: Untrained.
Katanas: Untrained.
Fist Weapons: Master.
Unarmed: Master; Makes James Vega look like a total bitch.
Halberds: Untrained.
Scythes: Untrained.
Twinblades: Untrained.
Whips: Amateur.
Greatswords: Untrained.
Ultra Greatswords: Untrained.
Curved Greatswords: Untrained.
Greataxes: Untrained.
Great Hammers: Untrained.
Bows: Untrained.
Crossbows: Master.
Greatbows: Untrained.
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DON'T SCARY
Hope is the road to disappointment....
[X] Jane Shepard
[X] A knife,a gnarled stick,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
We never been a sorcerer before.
[X] A knife,a gnarled stick,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
We never been a sorcerer before.
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[X] Jane Shepard
[X] A knife,a gnarled stick,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[X] A knife,a gnarled stick,a scroll,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
We're totally going to fist everything to death.
Big Heart
Warm-blooded
- Location
- I don't know, a freezer somewhere or something
[X] John Shepard I'm a real square peg-round hole sort of guy
[X] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
I figure, the axe is an easy weapon to learn, the bow gives us some versatility, and Shepards stats would indicate this loadout will work out pretty well for him, other than the adjustment period.
[X] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
I figure, the axe is an easy weapon to learn, the bow gives us some versatility, and Shepards stats would indicate this loadout will work out pretty well for him, other than the adjustment period.
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OfSpaceandTime
Chaotically Inclined
- Location
- Ohio
- Pronouns
- Anything non-rude.
[X] Jane Shepherd
[X] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[X] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[X] John Shepard I'm a real square peg-round hole sort of guy
[X] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.
[X] A handaxe,a short bow,a quiver of arrows,ten faintly glowing stones,and a torch.