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Challenge: the Praetor

a topic in Vffekt's Challenge, a part of the RPG forum.

A challenge to all Roleplayers that wish to see their limits and grow from there.

Challenge: the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Wed Dec 20, 2006 8:07 pm

[align=center]Prologue[/align]

Ever since the Praetor learned of Vffekt's challenge, he's been investigating it. He searched the world over for a place suitable to study on the subject, and when he found none, he decided to build one of his own.

From all over the globe he began collecting books with any information relevant to the gods, demons, magic, the elements, and anything else related to Vffekt.

He researched how Vffekt has been able to do everything he's done since his return and how it could be possible to recreate these, or even simulate them. He even discovered what Vffekt was like before his return, and the events leading up to his death.

He's created many theories and strategies on how to overcome the challenges and topple Vffekt himself, but as time pressed on around him, and as he watched warrior after warrior fall again and again, he slowly disproved them; finding fatal flaws in each one.

As time passed, he continued to build his library. He filled it with knowledge from every corner of the world and even built himself a place to practice when he would come across some new magic or idea, and a place to test his own inventions.

He eventually came to call this place Castra (home) for he rarely ever left it anymore, and only when he needed some specific tool, book, or food that he couldn't grow.

The man who would one day be called Praetor by the world almost became a hermit, completely obsessed with a goal he likely would never reach. So realizing this, one day he closed his books and looked at a bust of Vffekt himself that hung in his study and said to himself, "If I can't defeat him, then I have no place among the Praetoriani... and if I can, then no one will ever stand to oppose us..."

Satisfied that he had nothing else to learn from man, the Praetor set his goal to the Challenge, assured that victory would mean the realization of his life's dream...

((it's kinda drama-whory, I know, but it's only my prologue, I'll make one more post to start the story itself *nods*))
"WAR does not decide who is right, WAR decides who is left..."

Characters:
[multiverse] the Vagabond (modern)
[multiverse] Sonny Peterson

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It Begins...

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Wed Dec 20, 2006 8:48 pm

A city lies half in ruin, smoldering and desolate. What was once a beautiful hill-side kingdom, is now a horror of war, smashed into the very mountain that once nuzzled it.

The deeply worn road leading out of the city is littered with carts, debris, and the fallen bodies of those who fought to protect it. As the Praetor wandered down that very road, he stopped and surveyed the scene, shaking his head in dismay.

He thrust his walking stick into the ground and turned over the body of a fallen knight to read his insignia and find out which kingdom he belonged to, muttering to himself mostly, as his words would be of little consolation to the man before him, "... If only you didn't fight back, all this could have been avoided..."

"The two saddest words in the English language..." he continued with a poetic quote, "If only..."

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Wed Dec 20, 2006 9:12 pm

The ruined city was torn apart by something fierce, a mass effort by many dark forces. Even now, energies from the Void remained, lingering, infecting other magical sources within their ethereal reach. The air was thick with the scent of blood and human waste. The ruins themselves were seething with the latent energies of darkness' curtain.

The soldier's eyes were fogged with blindness, horror that would drive him mad an instant before his soul departing this realm, in order to feed their ranks. The pieces of building that sagged under their own weight revealed no bodies in the homes. The citizens were safe and out of sight. Perhaps kidnapped, taken for nefarious purposes. But, according to the Praetor's research, every non-military inhabitant survives the slaughter.

There was no physical evidence of any attackers, only their victims. This could be taken as an evidence in itself. Not even a footprint other than those of humans could be found, there were no tracks indicating anything other than a riot or civil warfare. This Vffekt was clever.

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Thu Dec 21, 2006 6:08 am

"... how disgusting..." he shook his head and looked away, soaking in everything around him as he explored.

In reaching the city he took an old cloth and wrapped it around his face to cover his mouth, "I'd read that the energy of death could be potent, but -this- is no less than palpable..."

He explored the town itself with very little interest, only planning to stop should he come across any powerful, rare, or unique artifacts amongst the ruin. He was not interested in the town itself, but rather what secrets may have been left here, purposefully, or by accident.

"... You are quite efficient, Vffekt... but even the gods are flawed," he muttered to himself as he scavenged through the debris, a common practice for the Praetor, "... everyone makes mistakes, especially underlings. Everyone with power knows, if you need something done right..."

((He would first find whatever libraries or museums the town had, in order to better understand it's personal culture. Then he would head up to the royal keep and investigate how the local government worked.

He's looking for patterns in Vffekt's movements. Trying to find out where he'd likely hit next and when, and trying to ascertain why he chooses his targets. He suspects the targets have something in common, like a particularly righteous or maybe corrupt leader.

I don't expect him to find anything particularly useful, but I think it'd be better for you to know what he's up to, so you can more easily form your plot.))

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Thu Dec 21, 2006 3:49 pm

What he would discover would be little he didn’t know, but much confirmation of what he would expect. This country was like most others, with one man or a small committee in charge of the people, and giving the people no right to decide who led them and where. The taxes were above average, but not unfair, and the people were moderately happy, though mostly uneducated. A Spartan country, this one, and a powerful one at that. Wiped out seemingly overnight, indicated by the still-falling buildings.

The movements of the Army seemed to be able to attack in a few places on the world simultaneously, as if split into sections, or even divided armies. Nothing indicated how large the forces were, nor what type of soldiers it bore, save for the testimony of the citizens who had witnessed and fled the scene. Demons of every shape, size, and type. The horde of demons would decimate those that went against them, intending only to usurp and drop the power the country held, and move on.

Vffekt’s next point of attack was certainly a mystery, but one clue was left behind. At the very edge of the city, the opposite from where the Praetor had entered, stood a man in a red coat. Thin fabric, no armor, but the coat was of unique and immaculate design. His hair was suspended like horns on his head, swept backward, his tan skin indicated a much warmer climate, and his brown eyes indicated his origins in a different part of the world. This man stood, his eyes focused on the horizon.

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Fri Dec 22, 2006 2:51 am

Having finished what he came for, he decided to move on. He'd not yet gathered enough information to accurately predict where Vffekt's armies would likely hit next, so through process of elimination, and simple random luck, he picked his next destination.

He raided the town's remained for traveling supplies, cloths, food, and other essentials. He was ready to make way again, but he thought it'd be best to set out in the morning, rather than to travel at night, so he began to scope out a suitable shelter here; that's when he spotted the strange man at the cliff.

"... A survivor?" he thought at first, but dismissed it, "Anyone left would have run if they weren't taken... Maybe he's someone more like me..."

He pondered the matter for a short while before coming to the conclusion that he needed more information. As he approached the man he did his best to seem weak and decrepit; he kept his mask to hide his youth as he leaned on his cane and hobbled as he walked.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Fri Dec 22, 2006 4:08 am


The man would not turn to face the elderly man whom would approach from behind. It was stupid to come from behind and present one’s presence, but it was not as if there was anything in the area left to fight over. No reason to keep one’s guard up. This young man was handsome and in the prime of his life. Cheeks supple and smooth with the softness of untouched and inexperienced youth. Also, as one would draw near, they would get the same feeling one gets approaching a blazing hearth. Heat blasting your face, but not painfully. A hot air surrounding this man, warm and not unkind.

He spoke with a fair voice and the faint hint of an accent carried from Spanish regions, “It is nice to know that some life still permeates this land, good sir.� Turning to face him as the older man would near him, and bowing to show the man some respect, “My name is Bel, and I was told I could meet you here, wise Praetor.� His brows lifted, a warm smile on the face which would carry Vffekt’s enemies to an early and ashen grave. “My Lord told me that you seek to know more? I am well known for my own studies, and if you have any questions…�

Leaving the offer hanging, he had made it quite known that the man’s identity was not to be hidden from those whom researched as diligently as the Praetor prided himself to do. There was much to learn from these beings, as wicked or insane as they might seem. It was only at this point that the fear-inspiring aura of Demons would be felt from Bel’s core. He was by no means an evil being, but there have been many a beast before him that took the guise of a benevolent human.

Bel’s hands were uncannily smooth, especially considering what the Praetor would know of this man. The name would chime a bell on the other man’s memory. This was a reported leader of one of the primary battalions. An extremely potent being beyond most mortals’ reckoning. Beings of this scope were rarely able to gain access to the earthly realm for any extended time, yet Bel was here and said to have been here for a few years at least.

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Fri Dec 22, 2006 7:59 pm

He stood upright as he stopped a safe distance away and gave up on his disguise, "Mundane charms are no match for anyone with keen senses, but that doesn't explain how you came to know my name..."

In one sweeping motion he removed his mask, coat, and bag, tossing them all to the side, "Then again..." he paused, "You're not so ordinary yourself, are you?"

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Sat Dec 23, 2006 1:23 am


As the last words would slip past the Praetor’s lips, thick gauntlets slid from beneath the loose red-green sleeves and coat his fingers in the ruddy metal. It gleamed only subtly, the claw-like gloves tipped with razor-sharp ends. Plated to overlap with itself in layers of heavy crimson metal. Both hands curled into fists at his sides, before relaxing. The cloth tail that hung from the rear of his coat flicked at the tip, resembling life though it were simply a part of his attire. Then again, his entire attire was a strange, unknown, soft yet armorous fabric.

His eyes were calm, his expression mostly flat. The heavy boots sagged into the earth as a blazing energy would be felt on a deep level of one’s consciousness. Something inhuman, beyond the spectrum of melee combatants, and within the grasp of only celestial beings and those of exceptional race.

“Nothing is ordinary, save for death itself. You should know that ordinary is just a thin veil humans cast over the trifling matters. Such things are irrelevant to the degree that they’re not worth mentioning.� His body burst in a small flash of flame, and revealed itself at the very lip of the cliff.

“The question is, are you worth mentioning?� He grinned mischievously, before his body gave way to gravity and vanished over the edge of the cliff. If the vagabond was to come to see him fall, there would be nothing but footprints to show that he’d existed at all. Deep footprints, coated with thin veils of steam from the extreme heat that contact with Bel would cause. Footprints showing that when he’d vanished, he was simply moving beyond most being’s capacity for sight.

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The Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Sat Dec 23, 2006 1:25 pm

"Am I worth mentioning?" he pondered, "... am I worth remembering?"

He stayed put, choosing not to move any closer to the edge of the cliff. In fact, he stayed exactly where he stood and thought about the man's parting words for a long time before moving again at all. Then when he came to his conclusion, he nodded and spoke, "I will be remembered... but not for the reason you will be."

When he was finished he knelt down and scooped up his belongings before leaving this place to return to finding his prior tasks.

'He doesn't seem to think I'm a threat at least... but still... perhaps I should tread softly and put effort into concealing my presence...' he thought to himself as he continued his work, and he finished his inner monologue out loud, "Until the time is right..."

((I'm going to assume the Praetor knows this man's name and general information about him from his studies thus far *nods* I have one more post to make))

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The Praetorian Logs

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Sat Dec 23, 2006 1:51 pm

[align=center]The Praetorian Logs[/align]
the Praetor wrote:I arrived safely at my destination, but I'm glad that I was late. It seems the entire town was destroyed overnight. As usual, every combatant was killed, and every civilian was missing; text-book symptom's of Vffekt's army.

I found no notable clues to help my quest in the town itself, these warriors are highly skilled and extremely efficient. However, I did find something else.

One of Vffekt's generals, Bel. He seemed to be waiting for me, but why i do not know. He is obviously not of this world, but how he's accomplished staying in this realm for so long is still a mystery to me. Perhaps his contract with Vffekt allows him to remain here, or perhaps who I saw was not the true Bel; either way, I need more information.

He seems to be aligned with fire, though I could be mistaken. He may have a temper, so I should make our next meeting as short as possible; should we meet again.

For now I will travel West, long the mountains. I hear there's a small town that sits on one of the many rivers that flow from this range. They won't have much to give me but a warm bed and meal, but if anyone from this town survived, I think that would be a likely rendezvous.

~ Veneratio quod Palma


((The journal that he carries with him *nod nod*))

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Wed Dec 27, 2006 1:38 am


His journey was not effortless, but it was uneventful. Finding himself only a few days later full of warm food and standing in a moderately maintained bedroom. The air in town was still, without even the hint of a breeze. The river nearby flowed serenely and the townsfolk were dotted with family from the great city just conquered. They didn’t seem panicked, nor were they without worry.

They spoke of a man in red, whom strode through the battlefield without a flinch. Casting great Heroes aside where mighty demons would perish. Their armies could be destroyed with this man alone, but he seemed without a care as to what happened around him. He was followed from a distance by a flame, which took the form of a woman as it passed. The spirit of fire itself, it would swallow those who sought to attack the man in red from afar. The locals had come to call him the Red Prince, due to his handsome face and regal poise.

The villagers didn’t seem to fear their stories, as not one of the families were slain, save for the few that were cousins to the foreign hired soldiers the Lord had used to protect himself. He did not trust his own people, and so those people would not waste their breath mourning him. Each person had found themselves with enough money in their purses to get by on for some time. Somebody had slipped everybody a sum of gold, yet none were inquisitive enough to question it.

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Wed Dec 27, 2006 4:19 pm

The Praetor was quite interested in the king himself, about his personality, his quirks, and his hobbies. He still hoped to find a pattern amongst the attacks, maintaining that Vffekt was a man of logic and wouldn't attack completely randomly.

His questions, as he investigated would focus on the time leading up to the attack, rather than the attack itself. Who was their king, who did he deal with, did he have enemies, foreign or domestic, on and on. He perused his agenda, knowing questions like these wouldn't go unnoticed, but he did his best to do so without drawing too much attention.

On the final day of his stay he sat in his rented room with all his notes and a large map of the continent in front of him. He was diligent with his notations, even the map itself had scribbles and marks to show where, when, and how Vffekt had already struck.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Mon Jan 01, 2007 4:20 pm


The man would discover unique circumstances. A few enemies, a few allies, but nothing either nefarious nor righteous. The leadership, like those of every other country, was left in the control of a limited number of people. As with the other kingdoms and townships, the leadership was absolute and unquestionable. Although the King distrusted his own citizens, he never brought unecessary harm upon them.

Vffekt's pattern, on the map, revealed multiple armies across the world. Not attacking the strongest first, but from outward in. From the farthest reaches of the world, his forces pressed across the world with no difficulty, the armies of humanity holding a meek struggle. The army of Demons was with a short leash. Although their attacks were precise and swift, bringing a sudden victory under an hour in most situations, civilians were left unharmed. In fact, the only confusion was that civilians that fought back seemed to vanish as the demons left, no harm yet done to them.

Reports now arrived among guards in the village the Praetor resided in that strange creatures were sighted on the fringes of the next town. Things that lurked in the shadow, at the edge of human sight, and vanished before they could be seen. Children spoke that they were monsters, while adults denied it entirely out of fear. An attack was to come soon, it was across the nearby river, a few miles away.

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Tue Jan 02, 2007 6:16 pm

the Praetor wrote:The refugees from the town seem, for the most part, unharmed. When I questioned them, they spoke at length about a mysterious man in red.

I'm sure the man they saw was Bel, the man I met during my investigation. If I continue tracking Vffekt, I know I'll eventually have to face him again, and defeating him may prove to be a challenge in and of itself. Then again, he -is- a demon, so it may not be entirely impossible to strike a deal with him; so perhaps I should try to find some sort of leverage to use against him...

In the mean time, however, a mysterious phenomena has revealed itself to me. Mysterious shadows, or Harbingers as I've come to call them, tend to appear just before Vffekt's armies. Perhaps they are scouts for Vffekt, or his generals, or perhaps they serve some other reason entirely. In any event, I need more information before I can make a judgment.

Fortunately, I may have just the chance I need for such an investigation. The Harbingers have begun to appear before a nearby city. It's too far to walk if I plan to catch them, so I'll employ an alternative method of transportation... I just hope I arrive before it's too late.


The first light of dawn broke over the horizon as the Praetor finished his meditation. He closed his books and stood up, facing the open window. Then, instead of sleeping, or even collecting his belongings in order to leave, he closed his eyes to concentrate and he began to cast a spell.

"Deus Phasmatis quae sceptrum quattuor flamen, audite meus citatio quod respondeo..." as he spoke, a gentle breeze began to blow around his presence, that quickly grew in speed and ferocity, "Mutuo mihi vestri spiritus, quod veho mihi ad meus fatum!"

When he finished his incantation, the wind around him erupted into a vortex that swept everything of his from the room into itself. A moment later this whirlwind, along with the Praetor and all his belongings, forced its way out of the window, closing the shutters behind it and leaving the room spotless and clean, as if the Praetor was never there. The only thing he left behind was a few silver to pay for his room and board.

((Using the Stormwind Rider (the spell he just cast), he should arrive there at least twice as fast as he would on foot. This all depends on if he has to move against the natural air currents of the land, but you mentioned the air here was dead, so he shouldn't have too much trouble.

Though I was wondering if I can give the Praetor some contacts. Considering his travels and personality, he would develop ties in various cities and such, these are people he could go to whenever he needs information, or help in some way.

I can leave it up to you to say which cities I can have them in, but I would like to have them as a resource to use as I face the challenges. Is that alright?))

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Wed Jan 03, 2007 1:12 am


Swept across the sky in a wind of his own creation, the Praetor was guided towards the large township across the river and a small field of farms. The farmers were absent, and the fields were left untended. The town itself seemed empty as well, but the peeking face of a child could be seen in some windows. Hiding fearfully, the citizens were aware of the coming tide. An assault that was delayed in coming. From the corner of his eye, but invisible to the Praetor’s direct eyesight, lithe and thin creatures could be seen dwelling between shadows, moving like the wind and without sound.

The air was dead still here, the clouds still and thin from time left unmoved. They would not bulk and spill their refreshing wash yet. This place was forsaken by nature this day. On the horizon, the vision of massive beasts came and went as if never there at all. The winds would not move and the skies would not wash their crops. The attack was imminent, and the tension in the air was palpable.

One of the Regent’s most trusted advisors would also be an old companion to the Praetor, knowing him on a mildly personal level and comfortable in entrusting him with newly received and confidential information. It was known to this man that the Praetor had no malevolent designs.


(( You can make any NPC’s you think will assist in the continuation of the story, and I’ll be making dozens for my various purposes. Try not to let them assist in combat unless I say it should be so. ))

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Wed Jan 03, 2007 5:30 pm

The Praetor landed himself outside the town, trying his best not to damage the buildings or even the crops in the farmland.

"Quiet..." he muttered to himself as his belongings fell to the earth around him, "... too quiet..." >>

He collected his things and readied himself for the walk into town, "The town must know what awaits them, perhaps they are wiser than the last and they plan to surrender..." he looked at the scene before him and shook his head, "Still... in any event I should at least make sure Darius isn't planning anything too foolish." and with that he set off toward the city and the royal keep within. He knew his welcome from the villagers would be then than amicable, but he'd hoped he would be remembered and welcomed by one of his old friends.

((I went ahead and gave his contact a name, Darius, for ease of writing and reading))

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Vffekt on Thu Jan 04, 2007 9:23 pm


The town was still, there were no guards at the perimeter, and none at the Advisor’s private abode. He had no political power himself, so he was unafraid of the coming invasion. Other advisors, family of the King but without right to the crown, were always left unhurt. Although he poured his tea in the quiet study near the front of his modest house, he was deeply concerned with the turn of events. He was a friend to the Regent of this place, and had advised him to surrender his control over the people.

Forcibly retired earlier this morning, Darius was only concerned that the Regent’s loyalty to his people was clouding his judgment and endangering his very life. The front door of his house was locked heavily, but a hidden key was always to be found by his most trusted friends and confidants beneath a mat of false grass in his front yard. Hidden cleverly in the well-tended area of flowers and grass, this key was a skeleton key to most locks in his abode.

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the Praetor

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby vagabond on Mon Jan 08, 2007 11:20 pm

((Sorry for the delay, I lost the internet for a while there... turns out it fell behind the couch >> anyway...))

The well-manecured grass infront of Darius' estate rustled and flatened under an unseen force as what looked like footprints slowly crept accross the lawn.

The Praetor, using simple spells to conseal his presance, stopped just under the window at Darius' study and with a quick word and a soft touch, he unlatched the window and gently pulled it opened. His cloths made no sound as he climbed through the window and even his feet were silent as they touched the hard wood floor inside.

Unfortunately, as he started into the room his magic suddenly failed. With a bright flash and the sizzle of energy, his spells were ripped asunder by ambient countermagics set into place by Darius.

The Praetor stopped in his tracks and gave a sigh and Darius laughed without having to look to see who was intreating in his home, "You are welcome to use the front door, that's why I leave you a key, you old fool..."

"Darius..." the Praetor repplied, shrugging his shoulders, "That just wouldn't be my style, now would it?"

((You're welcome to play Darius for this part, I just wanted to get that intro ^^ *nods*))

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