This Quest was born of several things. First was that the Great War era of the RWBYverse isn't...
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Chapter 1: The Blow,Part 0
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
This Quest was born of several things. First was that the Great War era of the RWBYverse isn't explored. Second is that the continent of Mantle,where Atlas resides,is similarly unexplored,though I have a hunch that will change in the fourth Volume. And third,multiple times in the past on other sites,I've attempted to run an RP based on this concept in the past,each and every time imploding because key players,or even entire teams,flaked. So,I've decided to cut out that particular problem,and tweak it for Quest format. So,some things to bear in mind;
-Technology: This is RWBY,so technology's interesting. However,it can be safely assumed,at least two generations before RWBY's modern age,that technology's fairly primitive in comparison. There's no CCT System. Scrolls and other personal computing devices do not exist. When you see "Airship",think "Prydwen" or a zeppelin. Effectively,think Cold War era technology,for the most part. Though,weapons tech would be significantly more advanced,as necessity is the mother of invention. No robots or battlesuits. At least,no battlesuit that made it out of the concept model phase.
-Politics: This is the Great War era. Nobody's truly at peace with everyone else. Vacuo and Vale have constant border skirmishes,as Vacuo wants Vale's fertile land. Mistral constantly raids Vale and Mantle for food,water,and raw materials. Mantle stands alone,forced to use its comparatively small military to keep the Grimm from just seizing the continent. The only reason why Vacuo isn't raiding Mantle is because of the forsaken continent between the two landmasses. What a time to be alive. And all before television. No joke,by the way.
So,with that out of the way,let's get this train rolling!
The Kingdom of Mantle,surprisingly enough,has it slightly better than everybody else. They only suffer raids from a single enemy,Mistral,though that's only because Vale has more than their fair share of fires to put out,and the living Hell that is the forsaken continent lies between Mantle and Vacuo. However,the kingdom's small population,and thus,the comparatively small military,is forced to pursue domestic pursuits,both in keeping the Grimm under control,and to keep Mistral's raiders off the continent,both with varied success. The Mantle Armed Forces,led by the General's Council,is further divided into the Land and the Naval Services,with General Cromwell Verigund being the most notable of the generals,because of his skills in both combat and leadership,as well as his outspoken stance on the recent demilitarization of Mantle's culture.
The King of Mantle,who reigns from the great city of Atlas in the continent's fertile lowlands,is protected by an elite order of knights,called the Atlesian Knights. The best individual warriors on the continent,maybe even on all of Remnant,the Atlesian Knights serve as,first and foremost,the protectors of the Crown. Handpicked by the Grandmaster from the Pharos Graduate's Tourney,and,less frequently,volunteers from the Mantle Armed Forces,their initiation is gruelling and designed to filter out the best from the best of the best. Every year,the Atlesian Knights accept only a tiny handful of persons into their ranks,usually never any more than one or two. In the fortress-city of Pharos,nestled in the foot of the highlands of the brutal land,one such Knight-Initiate was standing at attention,awaiting inspection. Dressed in her polished maroon-trimmed ivory armour,with similarly coloured and maintained equipment arrayed before her on a table; A kite shield,bearing the crest of the Knighthood,with a firearm's barrel poking out the top. A halberd,with what appeared to be a high calibre revolver built into the head. And,finally,a simple side sword and dirk. The brown-haired Knight-Initiate scrutinized her equipment with her equally brown eyes,searching for even the tiniest imagined fault. Seeing no flaws,she turned her iron glare to herself,trying to find a hair out of place in the tight bun on the back of her head,or a stain on her meticulously cared-for teeth. Nerves,primarily,while she was left to sweat in the barracks while her superior prepared for the day ahead.
Elsewhere in the great castle,a woman patrolled the top of the sole gatehouse in the outer wall,of four. This great edifice overlooked the sole entrance to the great Castle of Pharos; Rooktower Bridge. A feat of engineering,it spanned seven hundred metres,or thereabouts,and while it was large enough to comfortably march an army across,it had no cover,making it the ultimate killing field. Below the bridge was a great canyon,separating the nearby town of Lyse from the great plateau upon which the castle was built,this canyon teemed with unholy life; The Grimm infested the pit,and the caves within,mandating constant vigilance from the Silver Order,an order of independent warriors whose sole purpose was to defend Mantle from the Grimm,like the Silver Eyed Warriors of old. This woman atop the Rooktower Gate was indeed a member of the Silver Order,and elected to stay at the castle,for the selfish reason of staying close to her best friend,who stood sentinel on the far side of the great bridge. This woman,in stark contrast to her peers,was a walking kaleidoscope; Head to toe,she was tattooed in vibrant inks,her attire was equally colourful,and she had crystal-laden jewellery wherever she could fit it. Her hair was a stylish mess of layers,with an opalescent sheen,and crystal beads tied in throughout,culminating in a crystal ring at the end of a ponytail that reached her rear end. A leather bandoleer,covered in pouches,was slung across her torso,and a belt,equally pouched,sat firmly on her waist. A leather duffel bag sat open nearby,with large,colourful objects inside. In her hand,he held a flanged mace,with a great,two-handed haft,making the weapon five and a half feet long; A whole foot taller than the woman who held it. The longmace's head held a large yellow crystal within it,betraying the nature of the objects in the nearby bag. Seeing nothing amiss on Rooktower Bridge,the colourful dwarf turned,plucked up her bag,and continued her patrol of the wall.
However,the vibrantly painted woman should have directed her attention inward,as insidious souls were at work in the Lowtown of Pharos. A man,wearing a face-concealing gas mask,and voluminous hood,was huddled over a workbench,beside a still. Foul fumes filled the workshop as the man mixed his insidious off-yellow mixture. Metal canisters littered the room,all bearing fire and explosion hazard warnings. Across the room was another workbench,host to assorted metalworking tools,littered with small metal shapes and Dust of all kinds. Lying in a heap,the corner was occupied by a harness; The shoulder pads bore weapon barrels,the backpack held metal canisters and nozzles,pointed down. Attached to these canisters via hoses was a pair of handheld weapons,with two barrels each,though each one seemed to be designed to fire some different projectile. This workshop,though spartan in design,held a single decoration; A banner hung upon the wall,bearing the image of a bloodied wolf's head. This man sought a solution. And that solution was revolution. Talk was cheap. And that's all anyone did. His own brothers cast him out for his line of thinking. Were they truly so broken by their overlords? Were they truly so weak as to be appeased by the "gift" of their own kingdom? It was a miserable island of sand and mud,with no natural resources to speak of. No. They were weak. They refused a proper solution. They were content to be treated like animals,sent off to a cage when they misbehaved. The man smirked under his mask. Soon,the overlords will know what it's like to offend an "animal". Not every animal responds well to such poor treatment. And every enabling soul on this Dustforsaken rock will know. Him and his other half,they will deliver a true future to their people. A future born in fire.
All the while,the King of Mantle made preparations to come to Pharos,as is custom,to preside over the Graduate's Tourney at the Silver Order's academy. His Knighthood was sent ahead of him,to prepare for his arrival,and General Verigund requested attendance as well,and was granted permission,for both his loyal service to the Crown,and as a personal favour with the Grandmaster of the Silver Order,Aren Hilmarsson,an old friend,who will be arriving ahead of time with his own security force,as is fitting of a man of his office. The stage was set for great events. Nobody knew,but the future of Remnant began today. Joy and sorrow. Plenty and desolation. Greatness and ruin. The world will be consumed by the fires of war,and emerge changed.
Tomorrow begins today.
Pick your protagonist.
[] The Knight-Initiate of the Atlesian Knights.
[] The kaleidoscopic dwarf of a Silver Order guardswoman.
[] The revolutionary chemist.
-Technology: This is RWBY,so technology's interesting. However,it can be safely assumed,at least two generations before RWBY's modern age,that technology's fairly primitive in comparison. There's no CCT System. Scrolls and other personal computing devices do not exist. When you see "Airship",think "Prydwen" or a zeppelin. Effectively,think Cold War era technology,for the most part. Though,weapons tech would be significantly more advanced,as necessity is the mother of invention. No robots or battlesuits. At least,no battlesuit that made it out of the concept model phase.
-Politics: This is the Great War era. Nobody's truly at peace with everyone else. Vacuo and Vale have constant border skirmishes,as Vacuo wants Vale's fertile land. Mistral constantly raids Vale and Mantle for food,water,and raw materials. Mantle stands alone,forced to use its comparatively small military to keep the Grimm from just seizing the continent. The only reason why Vacuo isn't raiding Mantle is because of the forsaken continent between the two landmasses. What a time to be alive. And all before television. No joke,by the way.
So,with that out of the way,let's get this train rolling!
- Leonidas
~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One - The Blow
~~~~~~~~~~~
The world of Remnant is in a turbulent state. The Faunus were recently granted their own kingdom,on the newly christened continent of Menagerie. Each of the four major kingdoms have their own internal issues,as well as constant skirmishes with others. The average citizen lives in constant fear of both the Grimm killing them all,and foreign soldiers sweeping in and annexing their homes. To escape,civilians busy themselves with sports,games,drink,and radio dramas. The Powers That Be wage wars both against the foreign hordes,and the monsters in their own backyards,unable and unwilling to divert resources for the betterment of the common citizen.Chapter One - The Blow
~~~~~~~~~~~
The Kingdom of Mantle,surprisingly enough,has it slightly better than everybody else. They only suffer raids from a single enemy,Mistral,though that's only because Vale has more than their fair share of fires to put out,and the living Hell that is the forsaken continent lies between Mantle and Vacuo. However,the kingdom's small population,and thus,the comparatively small military,is forced to pursue domestic pursuits,both in keeping the Grimm under control,and to keep Mistral's raiders off the continent,both with varied success. The Mantle Armed Forces,led by the General's Council,is further divided into the Land and the Naval Services,with General Cromwell Verigund being the most notable of the generals,because of his skills in both combat and leadership,as well as his outspoken stance on the recent demilitarization of Mantle's culture.
The King of Mantle,who reigns from the great city of Atlas in the continent's fertile lowlands,is protected by an elite order of knights,called the Atlesian Knights. The best individual warriors on the continent,maybe even on all of Remnant,the Atlesian Knights serve as,first and foremost,the protectors of the Crown. Handpicked by the Grandmaster from the Pharos Graduate's Tourney,and,less frequently,volunteers from the Mantle Armed Forces,their initiation is gruelling and designed to filter out the best from the best of the best. Every year,the Atlesian Knights accept only a tiny handful of persons into their ranks,usually never any more than one or two. In the fortress-city of Pharos,nestled in the foot of the highlands of the brutal land,one such Knight-Initiate was standing at attention,awaiting inspection. Dressed in her polished maroon-trimmed ivory armour,with similarly coloured and maintained equipment arrayed before her on a table; A kite shield,bearing the crest of the Knighthood,with a firearm's barrel poking out the top. A halberd,with what appeared to be a high calibre revolver built into the head. And,finally,a simple side sword and dirk. The brown-haired Knight-Initiate scrutinized her equipment with her equally brown eyes,searching for even the tiniest imagined fault. Seeing no flaws,she turned her iron glare to herself,trying to find a hair out of place in the tight bun on the back of her head,or a stain on her meticulously cared-for teeth. Nerves,primarily,while she was left to sweat in the barracks while her superior prepared for the day ahead.
Elsewhere in the great castle,a woman patrolled the top of the sole gatehouse in the outer wall,of four. This great edifice overlooked the sole entrance to the great Castle of Pharos; Rooktower Bridge. A feat of engineering,it spanned seven hundred metres,or thereabouts,and while it was large enough to comfortably march an army across,it had no cover,making it the ultimate killing field. Below the bridge was a great canyon,separating the nearby town of Lyse from the great plateau upon which the castle was built,this canyon teemed with unholy life; The Grimm infested the pit,and the caves within,mandating constant vigilance from the Silver Order,an order of independent warriors whose sole purpose was to defend Mantle from the Grimm,like the Silver Eyed Warriors of old. This woman atop the Rooktower Gate was indeed a member of the Silver Order,and elected to stay at the castle,for the selfish reason of staying close to her best friend,who stood sentinel on the far side of the great bridge. This woman,in stark contrast to her peers,was a walking kaleidoscope; Head to toe,she was tattooed in vibrant inks,her attire was equally colourful,and she had crystal-laden jewellery wherever she could fit it. Her hair was a stylish mess of layers,with an opalescent sheen,and crystal beads tied in throughout,culminating in a crystal ring at the end of a ponytail that reached her rear end. A leather bandoleer,covered in pouches,was slung across her torso,and a belt,equally pouched,sat firmly on her waist. A leather duffel bag sat open nearby,with large,colourful objects inside. In her hand,he held a flanged mace,with a great,two-handed haft,making the weapon five and a half feet long; A whole foot taller than the woman who held it. The longmace's head held a large yellow crystal within it,betraying the nature of the objects in the nearby bag. Seeing nothing amiss on Rooktower Bridge,the colourful dwarf turned,plucked up her bag,and continued her patrol of the wall.
However,the vibrantly painted woman should have directed her attention inward,as insidious souls were at work in the Lowtown of Pharos. A man,wearing a face-concealing gas mask,and voluminous hood,was huddled over a workbench,beside a still. Foul fumes filled the workshop as the man mixed his insidious off-yellow mixture. Metal canisters littered the room,all bearing fire and explosion hazard warnings. Across the room was another workbench,host to assorted metalworking tools,littered with small metal shapes and Dust of all kinds. Lying in a heap,the corner was occupied by a harness; The shoulder pads bore weapon barrels,the backpack held metal canisters and nozzles,pointed down. Attached to these canisters via hoses was a pair of handheld weapons,with two barrels each,though each one seemed to be designed to fire some different projectile. This workshop,though spartan in design,held a single decoration; A banner hung upon the wall,bearing the image of a bloodied wolf's head. This man sought a solution. And that solution was revolution. Talk was cheap. And that's all anyone did. His own brothers cast him out for his line of thinking. Were they truly so broken by their overlords? Were they truly so weak as to be appeased by the "gift" of their own kingdom? It was a miserable island of sand and mud,with no natural resources to speak of. No. They were weak. They refused a proper solution. They were content to be treated like animals,sent off to a cage when they misbehaved. The man smirked under his mask. Soon,the overlords will know what it's like to offend an "animal". Not every animal responds well to such poor treatment. And every enabling soul on this Dustforsaken rock will know. Him and his other half,they will deliver a true future to their people. A future born in fire.
All the while,the King of Mantle made preparations to come to Pharos,as is custom,to preside over the Graduate's Tourney at the Silver Order's academy. His Knighthood was sent ahead of him,to prepare for his arrival,and General Verigund requested attendance as well,and was granted permission,for both his loyal service to the Crown,and as a personal favour with the Grandmaster of the Silver Order,Aren Hilmarsson,an old friend,who will be arriving ahead of time with his own security force,as is fitting of a man of his office. The stage was set for great events. Nobody knew,but the future of Remnant began today. Joy and sorrow. Plenty and desolation. Greatness and ruin. The world will be consumed by the fires of war,and emerge changed.
Tomorrow begins today.
Pick your protagonist.
[] The Knight-Initiate of the Atlesian Knights.
[] The kaleidoscopic dwarf of a Silver Order guardswoman.
[] The revolutionary chemist.
Last edited:
WiseFoolOfDeath
Little Death
- Location
- Nowhere
[X] The revolutionary chemist.
Time to change the battlefield
Time to change the battlefield
- Location
- nz
[X] The revolutionary chemist.
- Location
- Pittsburgh PA
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] The kaleidoscopic dwarf of a Silver Order guardswoman.
- Location
- Philippines
[X] The revolutionary chemist.
You had me at SCIENCE!
You had me at SCIENCE!
[X] The revolutionary chemist.
For SCIENCE
For SCIENCE
[X] The kaleidoscopic dwarf of a Silver Order guardswoman.
The chemist is working for revolution, not SCIENCE. Accept no substitutes.
The chemist is working for revolution, not SCIENCE. Accept no substitutes.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
[X] The revolutionary chemist.
[x] The revolutionary chemist.
SCIENCE! In All the Wrong Ways!
SCIENCE! In All the Wrong Ways!
ChaosTheVoid
Beyond the Outer Gates
[x] The revolutionary chemist.
Viva la revolution!!
Viva la revolution!!
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
The vote is still open. Just giving a tally up to this point.
-Revolutionary chemist: Top of the pile,by a considerable margin at ten votes.
-Kaleidoscopic Silver Order guardswoman: Second place at three votes.
-Knight-Initiate of the Atlesian Knights: Bottom of the pile,at two votes.
Two of these characters promise big boom on a regular basis.
-Revolutionary chemist: Top of the pile,by a considerable margin at ten votes.
-Kaleidoscopic Silver Order guardswoman: Second place at three votes.
-Knight-Initiate of the Atlesian Knights: Bottom of the pile,at two votes.
Two of these characters promise big boom on a regular basis.
Chapter 1: The Blow,Part 1 - Meet Leonidas
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
Leonidas,White Fang Radical
Castle of Pharos - Lowtown
Kingdom of Mantle
Continent of Mantle
Perfect.
You returned to your workshop,casually discarding the pipette onto the work surface. The mix was perfect. Regular ignition sources won't do. Only extreme temperatures will get it done. Which is exactly what you needed. You pull a large,jury-rigged carousel from a pile of equipment,and place it near the still. You load the empty brackets with some of the metal tanks that occupy the room,and slip a funnel into the ring that sits on the top of the contraption. Finally,you connect a hose to your still,and deposit the other end into the funnel. Flipping a valve,you step back to examine the workings of the system. The still and hose were free of leaks,which was good. Otherwise,this workshop would be a bomb waiting to happen. The funnel,as well,was intact. As the tank filled with its cargo,the bracket slowly began to sag. After a bit,the sagging bracket produced a loud click,jumped back up,and the carousel turned.
Some fuel continued to flow merrily,onto the floor.
I need to install a grate...
Regardless,the second tank aligned perfectly,allowing it to fill. You nod,and leave the workshop. You lock the door as you leave,and tromp up the stairs to the ground floor of your home,leaving your mask and hood by the door. It was simple,with a kitchen,a living room,and a hallway with stairs. Such was every home in Lowtown,the oldest part of the city within the walls of Pharos. Here,the poor lived. And that meant it held 100% of the city's Faunus population. You step into the main hall with your attention towards the front door,as always. Both to check if oyur wife,Perri,was home,and to make certain unwelcome guests haven't come to call.
The latter were a pressing concern,considering current events.
However,it was those events you were preparing for. With the Silver Order's Graduate's Tourney rapidly approaching,the King of Mantle would be in attendance,as would one of his greatest generals,Cromwell Verigund. You step upstairs,intent to shower yourself before your better half came home; You reek of the workshop. You step into the shower,intent to purge the scent of flammable fluids and caustic agents from your built physique,and especially from your voluminous mane of golden hair. It took a good half hour; You wanted to be thorough. Stepping out of the shower,you towel yourself off,and head for the bedroom,and the sight within brought a light to your amber eyes.
Your better half,Perri,was home,changing from her field kit. The brown feathers on her elbows were visible for only a moment as she pulled on her white shirt. As you stepped into the room,her head snapped,as it usually did,to look at you,beholding you in those featureless,glossy black globes that were her eyes,the skin around them naturally a pale,baby blue. You pull your wife into an embrace,which she reciprocates,and as you pull away,she gives you a quick peck.
"So,Leo,how goes your prep work?"
You chuckle as you fetch clothes of your own from the drawers. Leo,her pet name for you. Short for Leonidas. The both of you lacked surnames,much like many citydwelling Faunus; Surnames were for nobles and farmers. Pulling on some jeans,near-identical to Perri's,you turn your head to face her,wearing a triumphant grin.
"I've cracked it. I finally cracked it. I've mixed a fuel that the enemy won't be able to ignite easily,but can still be readily used,with the right hardware."
As you pulled on a blue shirt,your better half pumped her fist in excitement.
"Excellent! Now you can actually start getting ready for when His Lordship comes to town!"
You chuckled as you stood up from the bed,upon which you sat while you dressed yourself.
"And what about you,my dove? What'd you find out?"
That dove comment earned you a lighthearted punch to the shoulder.
"I've learned that Verigund's coming to town before His Lordship."
You whistled. You weren't expecting that; It would be better for security if the both of them arrived and left at the same time; Fewer events to run security for,and fewer opportunities for malcontents,like themselves,to sabotage the affairs of state.
"Any idea why?"
Perri cracked you a grin,and gave her reply.
"Actually,yes. Apparently,he wants to go over the security provided by the Silver Order,and the Atlesian Knights,then provide his own layer of security with the Mantle Armed Forces. Needless to say,the Silver Order's happy with the arrangement; They've always been the sort to accept outside help. But the Knights're in a huff. Honour,and all that garbage."
Perri gestured to nothing as she finished her report,showing her disdain for the concept of honour. You shared her contempt,to a degree. Honour and principle were inseparable concepts; Without one,you lacked the other. But if those principles,your honour,hampered your ability to fight,then you were inviting death. War was for the honourless and unprincipled. Certainly,a single Atlesian Knight was a force of nature on the battlefield,but more often than not,their honour held them back. That fool notion that they can be better than their enemies,just by acting a certain way. Such arrogance.
"Well,then. That's an angle we can make work,I think. Still. We're well on our way for His Lordship's arrival next week. Anything else,my love?"
Perri nodded.
"Yeah. It seems Grandmaster Hilmarsson put that DeVreis woman in charge of the Silver Order contingent of the guard for the event,and she's deputized that traitor Bither over in Lyse,and plans to pull her in for recon duty during the tourney. And,finally,the Atlesian Knights brought one of their Knight-Initiates,Hooper,to take part in security as part of her Trials. Penwood,her Sponsor within the Knights,is in charge of their contribution to security."
Your wife counted off on her fingers as she delivered this news,before finally concluding,
"And that's everything,"
She leaned in,and kissed you again,before stepping into the upstairs hall.
"My cute kitten."
The next week...
You approach the trio guarding the gate leading up to the Keep,where the Graduate's Tourney was being held. Over the past week,you were tirelessly producing more and more fuel,and integrating it with your weapons however you can. You were going to send a message. The Faunus people won't be pacified so easily,not with a barren rock off in some far-flung corner of Remnant. Out of sight,out of mind? They'll regret that line of thought. Meanwhile,Perri continued her espionage on the Silver Order,Atlesian Knights,and,when they arrived three days ago,the Mantle Armed Forces.
Perri's intel on them was thinner than the Silver Order and the Atlesian Knights,and understandably so. Not only were the soldiers in the Mantle Armed Forces always ready to fight intelligent foes from any front,and the best on Remnant,these soldiers in particular were General Verigund's personal regiment,the Special Tasks Group,his own personal pet project. They were the best and brightest in the Forces,and when they landed in their airship on Rooktower Bridge,they practically annexed the castle,nearly doubling the standing garrison with their own numbers alone.
All Perri had on them was that the STG's efforts were coordinated in unison by both the general himself,and his second-in-command,Colonel Jackson Knives,and that they were particularly guarded against espionage,often physically removing unauthorized personnel from the vicinity of their posts,from the lowest commoner,to wealthy nobles,to even members of the Silver Order. One checkpoint team very nearly opened fire on a particularly belligerent Atlesian Knight,before a different Knight happened upon the scene,and dragged her away.
Really,nothing that the two of you could use. Still,two out of three isn't bad. Not at all.
The three people in charge of checking the people heading to the Keep were representatives of each force occupying the city; An Atlesian Knight-Initiate,a junior member of the Silver Order,looking about eighteen,and a corporal from the STG. They broke the crowd up into three lines,and were asking for either passports or tickets. The Keep was where the Silver Order operated from; It was here where applicants spend at least four years of their lives,learning everything they would from an ordinary school,as well as everything they need to combat the Grimm. And it was in Pharos Keep where they housed VIP's,like the Knights,General,and His Lordship. And here,they held their tournament.
Casting a quick,subtle glance across the crowd,you saw precious few Faunus,and all of them attempted to line up to be met by the Silver Order second year,as she was,understandably,the most likely to be sympathetic,and honestly review their papers. You examine the young warrior,and note her practical clothing,how every movement prompted the rasping of chain,and the weapon at her hip; A seemingly-simple whip,made of corded leather and twine,though the amber stone at the pommel betrayed the weapon's nature as a Dust-fuelled electroshock weapon.
Monitor,or Anchor. I'm leaning towards Monitor.
The Knight-Initiate wasn't Hooper; According to the latest from Perri,she was sticking close to Penwood. This Knight-Initiate was a stone-faced man,large as a mountain. His armour was bulkier than that of his peers,by a significant margin,and his weapon hung from his hip; It appeared to be a knobbed great club. You had no intelligence on this man,though just by looking at him,you knew that if he became a problem,you'd be hard-pressed to dispose of him.
The corporal was easily identified,thanks to his name tag; He was apparently a Corporal Sterling. He wore his combat uniform,which included ballistic armour,complete with helmet,and he wore Arctic-urban camouflage patterns. A knife was sheathed at the centre of his chest,point up,a sidearm hung from his right hip,and a carbine hung from a sling across his shoulder and torso. However,much like the mountain of a man he was checking papers with,he was also a complete strategic unknown,much like his entire unit.
As you examined the checkpoint guards,you noticed,too late,that you made it to the head of the line,right in front of the soldier,who was currently waving a noble through,after examining his passport.
"NEXT!"
You stepped forward,and presented your ticket to the tourney,procured by your lovely wife. She didn't discuss how she got it,and you didn't care to ask; The less you knew about her covert operations,the less that could go wrong if things went south.
You marched your unarmed self up to the soldier,who halted you with an outstretched hand,palm out. As your hand went down to retrieve your ticket,the corporal barked,
"No admittance,cat. Turn and leave; We don't accept stolen tickets."
Well,you expected that from the Atlesian Knight,as they're a bunch of stuck-up noble fuckbuckets to the last. But the soldier? Middle class,and a civil servant? That's new. However,the plan mandated that you get into the tournament's audience. How are you going to do it?
Select One
[] Get violent. Write-in your opening gambit.
[] Incite the crowd. Write-in the gist of your speech,and how you want the speech to effect the crowd.
[] Bulldoze him with force of personality.
-[] Aggressive.
-[] Charming.
[] Blind him with logic.
[] Appeal to the Atlesian Knight-Initiate.
[] Appeal to the Silver Order Initiate.
[] Appeal to both of Sterling's peers.
[] Leave,and find an alternative.
[] Blockade runner.
[] Write-in.
Random Member
Gardener of Human Happiness
- Location
- Behind You
[X] Blind him with logic.
Big Heart
Warm-blooded
- Location
- I don't know, a freezer somewhere or something
Alright, I'll just change my vote to one that's far less meta.
[X] Appeal to the Silver Order Initiate.
Most of the other faunus in the line are going to her, so she's got far greater odds of being sympathetic to Leonidas. It's not like we'll be the first one coming her way today really.
[X] Appeal to the Silver Order Initiate.
Most of the other faunus in the line are going to her, so she's got far greater odds of being sympathetic to Leonidas. It's not like we'll be the first one coming her way today really.