Setting
A Rock Hard Land for Rock Hard Men.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
The Rockaverse is a part of 
Lords of Rock.
11 Characters Here
Syra Onnet [118] A thrall who seeks more from life.
Captain Ash [23] A man gone wild, either by lust, by wars, or by the desert sun. Or maybe he's just clinically insane.
M'Kama [14] Life and death, two sides of the same coin. With that in mind, he crafts his own luck.
Horik [4] The desperate desolate explorer
Talideth [2] A devout believer, an empty vessel.
Qunith [2] A Sudean Divine now in the servitude of the sinister Waste Witch.
Seru [1] A soldier who lives for Cobran.
Tackel [0] An oasis of justice in a lawless land.
Frey [0] A violent child in a violent world.
Otis Lariat [0] A young Guardian with boundless optimism.
Start Character Here »
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Palavan, the Ulfirian, glared up at M'kama from the sandy ground. "...Your people shot me and took me prisoner." Palavan breathed out sorely. "Now you want me to keep myself alive only to experiencing a more excruciating death... so I can tell you of Sceptre's secrets."
Palavan fingers dug into her ribs, holding the blood in. "You aren't safe... you aren't safe..."
Palavan fingers dug into her ribs, holding the blood in. "You aren't safe... you aren't safe..."
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"No...it was the self proclaimed 'Crown Prince' Theory's men that shot you," M'Kama explained slowly. "We saved took you from them and are leading you to safety and proper medical assistance. I also don't know what this Sceptre you're referring to is," M'Kama stated, bluntly once more.
"You aren't safe... you aren't safe..."
These words happened to amuse M'Kama the most. "This is the Rock, offworlder. You're expected to know you can die at any given moment from age three.
"You aren't safe... you aren't safe..."
These words happened to amuse M'Kama the most. "This is the Rock, offworlder. You're expected to know you can die at any given moment from age three.
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Palavan managed to let out a wheezing laugh. "Death will be a most favourable fate... if the Sceptre isn't returned." Palavan squinted, gritting her teeth as the pain continued. Tears had begun to flow. "If you're not the faction who shot me... what gang do you represent?" Palavan asked. Sand blew over the desert at her words. "...Are you with the witch?"
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"Not everyone on the Rock belongs to a gang, offworlder," M'Kama corrected, unlatching his flask of wine form his hip to see if there was any left in it. Empty...what a shame. "What witch? There are many who claim such a title on the Rock. There's a witch in South Mierdo Town for instance. She sells a good luck charm, called the "Feet of Fish." I don't know what it does, but it's said to work wonders for people with a crippling condition..." M'Kama trailed off.
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"I'm with Cobran," Seru replied, ignoring M'Kama's ramblings, "These two helped me get you out. There were 3 more of my people, one o'them lost his life to get you."
There was a grim silence after her words. Seru bit her dry lip, thinking over Eren's death. She wondered if Khada and Bones got out safe.
"Cobran is a place for people with no place," she said, eventually, "You'll fit right in. What's this about a witch?"
There was a grim silence after her words. Seru bit her dry lip, thinking over Eren's death. She wondered if Khada and Bones got out safe.
"Cobran is a place for people with no place," she said, eventually, "You'll fit right in. What's this about a witch?"
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"Cobran? That's another... Rockian tribe?" Palavan stopped, glancing down. "The witch came before I got shot... she held me... and then she took something-" another pause. "You," Palavan said, looking up at Seru. "Listen to me very carefully... I need to get this bullet out, and I can't do it alone. If I tell you what to do... can you remove it?"
Palavan licked her lips. "If you save me I'll tell you of the witch."
Palavan licked her lips. "If you save me I'll tell you of the witch."
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Seru hesitated, looking down at Palavan's bullet wound and at the blood blossoming on her uniform, "I'd rather you tell me about this goddamn Sceptre 'n that big gun y'all crash landed here," she frowned, "I don't really care about witches. Voodoo magic and all that shit..." she glanced at M'Kama, "Erm, no offense."
Seru rolled up her sleeves and tied her bloody and matted hair up. Her hands hovered over Palavan, squinting at the woman nervously before looking back to Horik, "Oi, you're the one with the medkit. Wouldn't you be more qualified for this sort of thing?"
Seru rolled up her sleeves and tied her bloody and matted hair up. Her hands hovered over Palavan, squinting at the woman nervously before looking back to Horik, "Oi, you're the one with the medkit. Wouldn't you be more qualified for this sort of thing?"
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"I want you," Palavan interrupted. "I want you... Cobran. The witch... is the gun." Suddenly another yell of anguish...
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"I want you," Palavan interrupted. "I want you to do it... Cobran. The witch... is the gun." Suddenly another yell of anguish...
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"Aight, fine," Seru lifted Palavan's shirt slightly to where the bullet wound was, grimacing as she pressed against it, "Tell me what to do."
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"You know, townspeople tell me I'm confusing," M'Kama stated, leaning back slightly on the ant to glance at Palavan. "But what you said is tantamount to complete nonsense. As she let loose another anguished cry, he turned around more and looked to Seru. "I'll stop the ant. Your hands need to be steady," he stated, letting the beast rest for a bit and sit down.
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Palavan reached out, her bloody hands grabbing Seru's. "Okay... alcohol, do we have any? We'll need it," she said. "We need a knife, and fire. And a cleaning cloth."
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"Uhhh..." Seru looked to M'Kama and took the cloth he offered, "Thanks. Hey wizard, can you start a fire?"
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Otis had escaped the battlefield, and Schittle, and now found himself in the grasp of the desert. The sun was setting fast, nothing but sand at every angle. Desolate sounds, lifeless. Otis continued to move as the sun grew lower, the night cold beginning to set in, and as he did he began to hear voices. Not the voices of Girthfield or the others that had escaped, but the voices of surviving cannibals.
They were hungry savages, lamenting the loss of their tribe, hoping they could still catch a feast out in the wild. Scrawny, one remarked about Otis. Food was food, another replied. They were hiding in the dune behind him. He could hear as they prepared to launch their assault.
Suddenly out of the darkness the cannibals leapt, four of them, running forward to devour the boy they'd chased into the abyss...
They were hungry savages, lamenting the loss of their tribe, hoping they could still catch a feast out in the wild. Scrawny, one remarked about Otis. Food was food, another replied. They were hiding in the dune behind him. He could hear as they prepared to launch their assault.
Suddenly out of the darkness the cannibals leapt, four of them, running forward to devour the boy they'd chased into the abyss...
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"I'm not a wizard," M'Kama noted to Seru as he drew out a torch and held it in the air. Scraping the torch with a small stone, a flame was soon lit, illuminating the ever darkening night sky. "I can keep the fire hovering above. For a light and for whatever else you need to fix her up..." M'Kama looked around at the darkness surrounding them. "Nights in the expanse of the desert are ominous nights..."
With his free hand he drew three cards from his pack and placed them face down on the ant's back. Turning them face up, he began to read their contents. "There's a large chance we could die here from a sudden ambush," he stated casually to Seru and Palavan before putting the cards away. "I hope you can work diligently in potentially hazardous conditions."
With his free hand he drew three cards from his pack and placed them face down on the ant's back. Turning them face up, he began to read their contents. "There's a large chance we could die here from a sudden ambush," he stated casually to Seru and Palavan before putting the cards away. "I hope you can work diligently in potentially hazardous conditions."
The desert was often a quiet place. Nothing but sand and the wind. Explosions, crashes, those things are not quiet, the noise and excitement of earlier was starting to wind down however.
In the distance though, a light humming, rumbling, sound could be heard. Distant, and low, but also approaching. As it so happens, steam powered, armored coaches are also pretty bad for noise pollution.
"Hm hm hm hm hm hm on a metallic horse with no name.... Where did I put that confounded little... AH! There you are!" The posh sounding gentleman exclaimed, picking up a loose revolver round from the floor. The carriage was a bit shaky, made more 'precise work' a bit more difficult. He'd have to work on the suspension later. But for now, he had people problems to deal with.
Captain Ash was a firm believer in collaboration, but these desert cannibals and other gangs, they never went to a proper school! They never learned about organizational effectiveness, or anything like that! No, today the only collaborating that would be happening would be between these bullets of Ash's, and their heads.
He stood up, slammed a door open, and leaned out to get a better look. And aim.
There, on the right, he spotted four jump out of the sand and start chasing towards someone. Was it a gang member? A survivor? Well he'd just have to ask him politely. After.
With a quick spin of his hands, he was holding two revolvers, firing both with precision, and a bit of random madness. "Come on you little buggers! I've got a piping hot meal for you!" He fired off about 3 shots with his right, and 2 with his left. He saw at least 4 of the 5 hit a target, but only two of the cannibals so far, and only torso hits. Slowed them, but they were still moving. Another pass perhaps?
Oh most definitely.
Ash kicked away wildly at some levers, managing to get the awkward metal beast to make a turn, crashing through some dunes as he emptied the rest of the rounds. The two he already hit were now down, and one other seemed to be wounded too.
In the distance though, a light humming, rumbling, sound could be heard. Distant, and low, but also approaching. As it so happens, steam powered, armored coaches are also pretty bad for noise pollution.
"Hm hm hm hm hm hm on a metallic horse with no name.... Where did I put that confounded little... AH! There you are!" The posh sounding gentleman exclaimed, picking up a loose revolver round from the floor. The carriage was a bit shaky, made more 'precise work' a bit more difficult. He'd have to work on the suspension later. But for now, he had people problems to deal with.
Captain Ash was a firm believer in collaboration, but these desert cannibals and other gangs, they never went to a proper school! They never learned about organizational effectiveness, or anything like that! No, today the only collaborating that would be happening would be between these bullets of Ash's, and their heads.
He stood up, slammed a door open, and leaned out to get a better look. And aim.
There, on the right, he spotted four jump out of the sand and start chasing towards someone. Was it a gang member? A survivor? Well he'd just have to ask him politely. After.
With a quick spin of his hands, he was holding two revolvers, firing both with precision, and a bit of random madness. "Come on you little buggers! I've got a piping hot meal for you!" He fired off about 3 shots with his right, and 2 with his left. He saw at least 4 of the 5 hit a target, but only two of the cannibals so far, and only torso hits. Slowed them, but they were still moving. Another pass perhaps?
Oh most definitely.
Ash kicked away wildly at some levers, managing to get the awkward metal beast to make a turn, crashing through some dunes as he emptied the rest of the rounds. The two he already hit were now down, and one other seemed to be wounded too.
Syra rubbed the back of her head as she sat up. "Great, more tunnels..." She sighed. She had had enough of these particular tunnels for a lifetime. The cannibals had been working on their network of tunnels for years, burrowing under the town of Schittle in order to feed themselves. Everyone knew what happened to a missing person, but no one ever seemed to want to speak of it. Thankfully the space they'd managed to find themselves in was unoccupied, and Syra hoped it'd stay that way.
"Well, now what?" She asked no one in particular, "Obviously, we can't stay here..." She said meekly, her fighting spirit starting to wain in the presence of strangers. She wasn't used to speaking her mind out loud, and she was afraid those present would quickly reprimand her. "Sorry, you already know that..." She finished sheepily as she looked down at her feet.
"Well, now what?" She asked no one in particular, "Obviously, we can't stay here..." She said meekly, her fighting spirit starting to wain in the presence of strangers. She wasn't used to speaking her mind out loud, and she was afraid those present would quickly reprimand her. "Sorry, you already know that..." She finished sheepily as she looked down at her feet.
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"Now will ya' shut the hell up, ya' stupid thrall!" Hedon screamed, backing away from the corpse slowly. "I don't, I say, I don't do well in tight spaces."
"Is that right," Girthfield replied pulling his blade out to face the ground, his shadow like a dragon in the fire-light. "Well, funnily enough, the three of us don't appreciate being attacked by a warlord with no jurisdiction." Girthfield stepped between Syra and Frey. "Names, all of you," he said."My name is Tiber Girthfield. I'm here to protect you."
"Is that right," Girthfield replied pulling his blade out to face the ground, his shadow like a dragon in the fire-light. "Well, funnily enough, the three of us don't appreciate being attacked by a warlord with no jurisdiction." Girthfield stepped between Syra and Frey. "Names, all of you," he said."My name is Tiber Girthfield. I'm here to protect you."
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"Sage," Seru gave M'Kama a pointed look, "Don't suppose those cards reveal when you're gonna introduce yourself?"
Picking up the cloth, Seru looked down at Palavan and gave her a ready nod.
Picking up the cloth, Seru looked down at Palavan and gave her a ready nod.
"Syra, Syra Onnet," Syra replied quickly, on instinct. Hedon's words hadn't phased her, she was used to the harsh treatment afforded by the men and women in Theory's army. Girthfield seemed powerful. but she wasn't sure where his true allegiance lay, and the other woman he'd saved seemed like she could take care of herself, Syra envied the thought. All she wanted to do was run, but she had no idea where she'd go. She longed to return to her home, but it seemed impossible, even if she were free of Theory, freedom seemed like little more than a dream.
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"It's a devil man!" One of the cannibals screamed in terror and he thrust out a hand. The powers of the earth Phoenix rumbled through his blood, transferring through the earth and creating a sinkhole underneath Captain Ash's vehicle, causing it to crash suddenly.
Meanwhile, more cannibals appeared, surrounding the metal carriage and howling.
"That's not great," Otis remarked, sliding down the sinkhole to the door of the steam-powered vehicle, now spraying steam from what was surely a damaged engine.
"Hey you in there, y'all right?" Otis asked, peering into the vehicle.
Meanwhile, more cannibals appeared, surrounding the metal carriage and howling.
"That's not great," Otis remarked, sliding down the sinkhole to the door of the steam-powered vehicle, now spraying steam from what was surely a damaged engine.
"Hey you in there, y'all right?" Otis asked, peering into the vehicle.
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Girthfield rose an eyebrow at Syra. "Sorillian?"
***
"Real trusting, aren't you?" Palavan whispered, her eyes going between her three captors. "Wash the knife with alcohol." Opening a puch Seru did as instructed, drink dropping off blade into the desert.
"Okay," she took Seru's hands, placing the left one beside the wound, where she could feel the outline of the bullet. She then pulled Seru's right hand forward, it wielding the knife, and put the tip into the wound. "What you're going to do is dig the knife and press the bump, that's the bullet, against the knife. Then you push the knife out with the bullet on it."
Palavan stared up into Seru's eyes. Red eyes, brown iris, tiny pupils- scared for the pain about to come. Palavan held onto Seru's hands tightly, keeping them in place. "One, two, three." Palavan gritted her teeth as the knife went in.
***
"Real trusting, aren't you?" Palavan whispered, her eyes going between her three captors. "Wash the knife with alcohol." Opening a puch Seru did as instructed, drink dropping off blade into the desert.
"Okay," she took Seru's hands, placing the left one beside the wound, where she could feel the outline of the bullet. She then pulled Seru's right hand forward, it wielding the knife, and put the tip into the wound. "What you're going to do is dig the knife and press the bump, that's the bullet, against the knife. Then you push the knife out with the bullet on it."
Palavan stared up into Seru's eyes. Red eyes, brown iris, tiny pupils- scared for the pain about to come. Palavan held onto Seru's hands tightly, keeping them in place. "One, two, three." Palavan gritted her teeth as the knife went in.
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"She asked a question and I gave an answer..." M'Kama noted, as he took a peach out of his pack and fed it to the ant. By the time he turned around, he saw the bloody impromptu operation was already underway.
"Where are you from offworlder?" M'Kama asked loudly, figuring that Palavan would rather concentrate on anything else than being opened up with a knife. "Your accent's different than most I've heard."
"Where are you from offworlder?" M'Kama asked loudly, figuring that Palavan would rather concentrate on anything else than being opened up with a knife. "Your accent's different than most I've heard."