Fantasy Advance of Giants (Attack-On-Titanish, Needs Members)

[SirFlabberghaspy]

This is a dark, gritty roleplay. People will die, people you're trying to save, people by your side, and people you love. No one escapes without some kind if injury here, so if you're ready, please step inside.


Information in the Overview.

 

[SirFlabberghaspy]

Eh, I guess we can. I'll just fill Squad 3 with NPCS until someone comes along.


 
A large explosion went off, sending Merrick and Meld hurling through the forest, before slamming into the ground and stopping with thuds in unison. Meld looked around him as he got up, running over to Merrick, who was on the edge of consciousness.


"No!", came a voice, "Stop! Stop it!"


Meld turned to watch as another life was taken by the monster, that great monster, with it's wide smile, it's terrifying eyes, and it's creepily calm expression that betrayed it's situation. It snapped the person in half, and the others were too late...


"You....."


"You pathetic shit stain...", Meld muttered...


"I'll kill you!"


-PRESENT-


Meld sighed as he viewed the large cluster of squads in front of him, all standing before the Historic Forest in anticipation. They had met at midnight, and set camp to rest. But now that everyone was energized, they were eager to get to know each other, unlike the anti-social Meld, who kept to himself.


He was currently reviewing a map of the Historic Forest, towns, a city, and at least eight hundred miles of dense and loose forest, with hills scattered throughout it. It was a landscape that would prove helpful in tactics, but could also get in the way, especially with it's sudden changes of hot and cold in temperature...


Once again, Meld began writing down pre-planned tactics on many pieces of paper, taking up twenty by the time Squad 3's Aura had finished cooking for everyone, which might have been the best part of the morning.


Merrick approached Meld, who only nodded as he put up his things and set them into a cube, one that was distributed to every Knight of Historia, a bag of unlimited holding (it's an artifact from DnD, it can hold anything smaller then a table within it.


And with that, Meld set off towards the others, ready to eat and discuss their situation.

 

[Seymour]

( @too much idea @XxCrimson DynamoxX @KaiaWolf @The Zombie , tagging to let everyone know)


Amelyn hadn't exactly been quite conscious when they trudged into camp last night. And, as she woke up, it seemed as if she hadn't even had enough time to properly set up her tent before she fell asleep. Pulling herself out of the jumble of her unfinished tent, Amelyn searched for her shield, which she promptly found under her pillow. Around her neck, as always, was her Symbol of Herrin, displayed proudly atop her chestplate. Straightening the rest of her armor and not bothering with her wicked hair, Amelyn headed towards the center if the camp, where the smell of food attracted her.


-------------------------------------------------


Iriiah watched as the camp awoke and mulled around the campfire, waiting for breakfast to be served. Due to her being Drow, she was naturally nocturnal, preferring the calmness of the night to the blinding light of the sun. Squinting through the light breaking through the trees, Iriiah attempted to continue reading the reports she had in front of her. She had requested a dossier of every member of each squad, and had only received them a few hours ago, just as they were making camp. With a sign, she rolled up the last dossier and stored it in small black bag at her side. Pulling her mask over her head to shield from the sunlight, Iriiah descended into the camp.

 

[The Zombie]

Ildin was amongst the first in the camp to wake, though he had to admit it hadn't been entirely by choice. The previous night as everyone made camp a Knight of the Rose had come around to all of the archers seeking volunteers for a small hunting party to go out just before first light and try to find some wild game to add to the cook's pot. The Maelnoor knight had eagerly agreed to join them, seeing a hunt as a chance to show off his skill and perhaps earn some small amount of favor with his superiors. Needless to say, Ildin hadn't expected first light to come quite so early, much less the awakening he got before it. Tired as he was he still managed to bring back a pheasant and two large hares, but he nearly collapsed at one of the small camp tables near where the cook was set up when they returned. A moment later a tin cup of some steaming liquid was sat before him and he was told to drink up. The bitter, black liquid was barely consumable, but he finished it quickly.


He forgot what the stuff had been called, but he called it a miracle.


Now he was wide awake, alert, and going full steam as he stood off to the side and out of the cook's way juggling a few of his throwing knives and humming a tune common to travelling performers. Small glints of light flashed and disappeared as the metal blades sailed back and forth in an arch above the tall knight's head. The whole display might have appeared more impressive had all but the edge of his blades not been abraded to prevent them catching light. It didn't matter at the moment, however, because he was doing it to keep himself entertained until more of the camp came alive. He just could not sit still long enough for that to happen.

 

[Hoax]

Birds are terrible creatures.


Or at least they were in Ellis dream. All beady-eyed and bloody-beaked. Pecking and clawing, eating dead things. Generally not pleasant to be dreaming about.


Turning over uncomfortably, the woman's half-awake state made the last few moments of sleep more vivid than usual. Her dreams weren't usually very interesting. but maybe it was the change of scenery, or the sudden difference of people around her. For whatever reason, her sleep had been intruded upon by winged beasts during the night.


Blue eyes blinked awake, fully this time, and she groaned. Not loudly, as she'd much like to avoid people hearing her, but with enough volume to satisfy the displeasure.


Hauling herself into a sitting position, Ellis ran a hand through her dark hair, listening for any sounds of people already awake. Her answer was the smell of cooking, and the very beginnings of muffled conversations.


Standing up the rest of the way the young knight quickly dressed and exited the tent, making her war towards the growing smell of food, stretching her stiff limbs as she walked.