[Real RP!] - Have Party, Will Travel

Totally haven't forgotten about this place, never, totally not, who's telling you otherwise!
here is my poor excuse of a post, not much to work with due to my own fault so deal with it ^^
The half-orc will be better explained in one of the upcoming posts of Phoebs, its her NPC.
Minor G'modding allowed for this post by Phoebs..
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Turning to the remnants of a doorframe, Scelus exited the ruins of the hut as he still had some steam to blow off. Being pent up living inside a righteous man's head was not doing Scelus good so instances like these were always good for him. Too bad for Iras that Scelus took these kinds of liberties whenever Iras went unconscious.

Though, all things considered Scelus did want more of a challenge than a group of shambling zombies, they were fun and easy to kill but like stepping on ants; only fun for so long.
Setting fire to some buildings were fine and ok, Iras didn't completely support taking out buildings that did not need to be taken out but he knew from experience that the more Scelus got to vent today the easier he would be to control in the near future. Walking around in the village, Scelus toyed with the idea if leveling the local cathedral, more of a personal thing than any real reason to actually do it; demons and holy-ground are not friends. Iras managed to talk him out of it but it was only a hairline-with from it.

Rounding a buildings' corner Scelus saw something, it was no undead but rather a fairly tall half-orc, or something of the kind. Scelus started running towards this red-haired creature with only bad things in his mind.
"Scelus, no! That is not a zombie!" Iras tried to talk him out of his plans.
"Fuck you, Iras! I'm doing this!" The thought answered the man who tried to stop his demon-side with no effect.
In most cases Iras would be able to force control, but Scelus had the upper hand in this case, the destruction and mayhem he has caused has only given him a firmer grasp on control.

Darting towards this woman one could feel the lust for slaughter emanating from the demon, and it was only heightened when the half-orc turned her head towards the incoming doom.
As Scelus was about to hit her, a slap by the woman's huge hand onto Scelus' demon arm broke his balance, making him tumble over and roll on the ground. Slightly dirt-covered he got back to his feet with an even larger grin. Echoes of Iras' voice in Scelus' head of orders to stop were ignored as the demon crouched.

Kicking off with all his might Scelus aimed to use the increased speed and his full strength to crunch the redhead's chest, though he vastly underestimated the creature.
Stepping towards the incoming punch she put all her weight into a single punch, at this point Scelus realized that her arms were longer than his… And there were nothing he could do about it..
A grunt of strength was heard from between the tusks of this woman as a fist almost the size of Scelus' head collided into him, all that energy going towards her fist as well as all that weight behind her punch almost made Scelus' bones fracture, and as a head-to-head collision between a small car and a cargo-truck; Scelus started traveling backwards and only stopped after he had torn through a farmer's house and was ass-deep into the neighboring stone wall.
"What…. the….. fuck…." was all the demon managed to mutter out with his now double-gurgling voice, while his face showed a level of confusion and broken ego that he had never shown before.
Iras managed to regain control at this point, only to step into a world of pain he had not felt since before Scelus moved into his body. The demon's blood had started healing at the split second of the impact so he would be fine in a few minutes, but as of now it hurt like there were no tomorrow.

Managing to drag his ass out of the stone wall, he fell forward to the muddy ground, coughs of pain commenced and was done worse that each cough hurt, but each cough also made him hurt even more, so a nasty circle of pain was created for a minute.
"I'm *cough… cough* Sorry! *cough* I'll explain… later…" Iras managed to literally cough out towards the paled skin half-org through the hole in the building between the two. He hoped she would not continue since as he was now he would have serious problems retaliating. He might have stood a better chance against her without underestimating her, but such is the ego of a half-demon that see's himself a demigod….

Iras coughed his way though this, and though it was very slowly starting to feel better, he was not there quite yet.
 
The door of the church opened with a thud, almost knocking Raz back and a mountain of a woman in white and cream nun's robes stormed out.

"Drat it all!" she grunted in a throaty, orcish voice. "Everyone of you living idiots, get inside the church, NOW!"

She was big, with an off-green and gray skin, a large square face and a mess of bright red hair peeking through the nun's humble headdress while her yellow eyes were flashing with frustration and she gnashed her teeth with a pair of visible tusks that could make a boar feel emasculated.

"Rachel!!" someone shouted from in the church. "Don't go out there!"

"Get in, quickly now gal!" Rachel said and gently shoved Raz into the door with a massive hand. Raz was a tall woman in her own right but this half-orc girl made her seem small.

"Oh you monkey-sucking thing..." she muttered and turned to face one living person darting right for her with a maddened grin.

Rachel was keen enough in the holy magic of her order to sense what was going on with this guy, he was possessed! Likely more work of that blasted lich. "I'll show you, trampling in my village..." the half-orc snarled and reeled back her arm, thick as a tree-trunk and balled her massive fist, saying a quick exorcismal charm. She backhanded the charging thing and then with the same fluid motion she punched him under the jaw, sending him flying.

"And stay down!" she grunted after him. Then she lifted her skirts a little in a proper lady-like manner and with a thick but still very fine leg kicked a zombie off its feet and into a wonderful arc before it crashed onto a roof. Then she squinted a little, looking at the graveyard.

"Ooh, Saint Helfrida's Mantle, is that Ryan over there? I haven't seen that wee bard in years," she muttered. "YOO-HOO!!! RYAN! IS THAT YOU, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!?"

Over at the cemetery, Ryan paused with killing zombies just enough to look over at whoever called his name. He grinned widely and waved back completely lackadaisically.

"RACHEL!!" he shouted back over the din of zombie groans. "I'LL GET OVER IN A MINUTE! ZOMBIES TO KILL!"

"Yeah I heard ya," the nun sighed, putting her hands on her waist and standing straight to her full, big size. It was a wonder that nun's habit didn't split at the seams.

She trudged back into the church. "You guys have caught us at a bad time. That moron lich is making a mess of our little town," she sighed to Raz and the others. "Are you all with Ryan?"
 
OOC: @Technocrat: :cry:

IC:

Raz was used to looking down at people.

When the great minds hired by the Duke at Morris began planning what the perfect soldier would be like, they came up with a few criteria. First was strength. A soldier had to be strong enough to subdue an opponent but strength wasn't everything. Lack of strength could be easily compensated for with the right training in martial arts, but it never hurt to have it either. Of course, agility was a must as well. However big and beefy a soldier may be, the inability to move out of the path of an attack seen coming a mile away would get you a dead, strong corpse, so that had to be factored in as well. So speed and strength were a must.

And then of course, there was height. The taller a soldier was, the more leverage they had on a smaller opponent. Which followed the very obvious logic that the taller a person was, the longer their limbs would be, since limbs are of a certain length in direct proportion to their body. A longer reach meant that a soldier could attack with a blade from farther away, keeping themselves in relative safety while their opponent had a foot of steel to get around before even being in range to score a scratch.

All this planning went into the eugenics program at Morris, and the scientists charged with the breeding and selection were very, very good at their job. Raz was strong and fast -- she could break a neck in a few seconds if in the right position and she could dance on a rope while juggling if need be.

And of course, she was tall. It was a little inconvenient for a while, since she towered head and shoulders over all women and most men. But she adjusted fairly well once she was cast out into the world. She learned to speak softly so as not to appear so intimidating, and while she couldn't do anything about the rigidly straight posture, she kept her shoulders relaxed and in general tried to keep her body-language as non-threatening as possible. (Which is to say, not very.) But no matter what, people always seemed a little nervous and awed by her height and men (particularly the short ones) especially seemed to be intimidated when she had to bend so very far to hear what they were saying.

Raz was used to looking down at people.

This was the first time she'd ever experienced what it felt like to be the one looked down on.

All she could do was blink as the massive nun emerged from the church, not quite sure if there was something in all that squishbag juice in her hair that was making her seeing things. And then the woman effectively bitch-slapped a rather burly man halfway across the cemetary.

"There is just no possible way my mind would be so fucked up as to hallucinate that," Raz muttered. Louder, she said, "Yeah, that's Ryan alright. We're with him--" Here she had to stop and take out about eight or so zombies that were getting close and making the reek a bit more than she could bear. After planting her foot on the chest of one and yanking her sword out -- taking a few ribs with it, annoyingly -- she turned back to Rachel, idly shaking some gore off her blade. "Anyways, yeah, we're with Ryan. That bastard owes me a bar of soap after this." She glared at the horde of zombies. "I hate squishbags."

Raz squinted at the battle and cupped a hand around her mouth to bellow, "HEY, TALI! GET YOUR PERKY ASS OVER HERE, WE GOT A SITUATION THAT CALLS FOR A BADASS MAGE!"
 
Tali was still half way out of it and half way wondering how a Half-Orc could ever become a nun when she heard Raz call out to her. For the last little while Tali had been off in the distance absent mindedly taking everything in. Everyone seemed to underestimate how much zombies terrified her. They didn’t realize that for the last little while she had been having a nice long conversation with herself about the whole situation. For a while she debated with herself on the concept of zombies and the concept of running away. There were even times she argued with herself about the ethical points of bringing down a zombie. However, hearing her name yelled snapped her out of it.

Of course, it was Raz who had done it. However, next to the Orc lady, she didn’t seem so demanding anymore. “WHAT?” Tali didn’t much like it when conversations with herself were interrupted. “If you need me to do something, I will do it. However, I am not going to hold back. Each and every one of those stupid things is getting its head removed by my lightning. I do not want them touching me at all.” She folded her arms against her chest. “And I am not perky, fatty.”
 
Raz gaped. Then she glared.

Then she drew herself up to her very impressive six feet and three inches of height and looked mortally offended.

And pissed.

Yeah, she definitely looked pissed, too.

"FATTY? WHADDAYA MEAN FATTY!?"

Now, here's something not many people know about Raz. She was very conscious about her weight and appearance. It was one of the few things in her life she'd always been able to control and she took pride in her figure -- because though it wasn't super-model by any means, it was still a very nice figure indeed. As she would put it, she may not have a sense of ethics, social norms or even properly sequenced DNA, but she DID have a fine ass and a body to go with it. And besides, Jazz would blush a great deal whenever she wore something a bit more revealing or form-fitting than usual and that was more than enough to make her strut with pride for a week.

In short, Raz considered her body to be the only appealing thing about herself and her entire life had been spent acquiring perfect control of said body.

But what this all really boils down to is the simple fact that she didn't react well when people called her fat.

In fact, the last person to do so suffered a concussion and three broken bones. Others around that person also suffered a similar fate and she'd been charged a hefty sum the next day for damages done to the bar, the boat and the sidewalk.

Raz took an infuriated step towards the horde of zombies that stood between her and Tali. "HOW'S THIS FOR A FATTY!?" she shouted and threw her sword into a nearby zombie.

Then she undid the clasps on her armor in seconds, tossed it aside and tore off the shirt she wore beneath (which was already soaked in zombie juice, so it didn't really matter that it was destroyed.)

And now Raz was standing at the brink of a zombie horde wearing only jeans and a very feminine, very lacy and a very pink bra.

Has it been mentioned that Raz has been in pretty extreme physical training all her life? No? Well, she has. And the results are nothing to snort at. Raz had the kind of lean, fit figure that most athletes get when they're gunning for the Olympics. Lots of lean, rolling muscle that meant all business, not for show. This was a figure that could kill a score of foes in the shortest amount of time possible.

And, in fact, this is exactly what Raz began to do.

Snatching her sword out of the zombie, she spun around and started slashing away at them with a dancer's grace. In fact, she turned the combat into a sensuous sort of dance itself, swaying her hips excessively, throwing her head back and sliding under a clumsy arm-sweep from a foe when a simple side-step would've done. Some of her moves were particularly impressive, especially the one where she that neat trick of making it look like a wave was undulating through her arms, all while managing to slice a zombie's head off with one hand and break the neck of another with the other hand.

She moonwalked over to a group of zombies and proceeded to take them out with long sweeps of her sword, arms bending and wrists gliding around her like a ballerina spinning across the stage. Zombies fell before her in droves. Many times she came within a hairsbreadth of being struck, only to shift her body ever so slightly to avoid the blow. She was, amazingly, dancing and fighting at the same time, moving to a beat that didn't exist and yet had a familiar rhythm to it, much like war.

Then, just a short distance from Ryan, Raz made her finale. She spun like a dancer, one foot gliding across the slime-covered cemetery grass, and went to one knee. Here showcased her flexibility by cutting zombies in half from this position as she did a elegantly swung her sword behind her by swinging her arm over her head, again much resembling a ballerina pirouetting, and sliced up a score of zombies in the process.

But she didn't stop there -- she carried the swing through, all the way around until her right hand nearly reached the left side of her body. Just before the momentum of the swing would be lost by the obstacle of her own torso, she gracefully twisted to her feet, managing to make it look like it was the power and momentum of the sword that had pulled her up. As she did, her body making one graceful spin parallel to the ground, her feet caught a zombie in the chin, snapping it's neck.

Then she was on her feet and let the sword finish it's motion, neatly slicing a zombie in half.

And suddenly, the cemetery was much quieter -- all the zombies were gone, reduced to little piles on the ground, with Raz standing in the middle of them all, the hand holding her sword at her left hip, and her other hand above her, hand turned in and fingers splayed like those latin dancers do all the time.

She held that pose for a moment, then turned a smug smirk on Tali as she slashed her hands down and outward at once, flicking cold zombie blood from her sword. "Can a fatty do that?" she demanded. Without waiting for an answer, Raz spun around and stalked back to the church, the area between Tali and building now quite free of zombies, though more would soon replace them. "Come on, I cleared the way for you. Ryan, stop playing around with that zombie and get your butt over here."

Still muttering and grumbling, she stomped across the swath of destruction she'd created. Suddenly, she screamed and jumped rather impressively, twisting around to kick the head of a zombie that had grabbed her foot. "SONOFABITCH!" The zombie's head went flying as her boot connected with it. Breathing hard, she took a moment to let her heart rate come down. "I HATE it when these things do that!"
 
The graveyard was largely clean of zombies now -- and absolutely full of body parts. Ryan panted, standing on top of a bulky pedestal that used to hold a statue. He'd used it to crush a particularly portly zombie.

"Ty! Raz! Where the hell is everyone? The graveyard's clear, I think the church's safe now! We can use it as a base to see what in Poseidon's salty balls is going on!" he shouted, jumping off the pedestal and sheathing his sword. He saw Raz...and the color of her bra, and it's contents. He raised an interested eyebrow but thought it wiser to keep his mouth shut. After all, Raz was on a rampage and he'd rather not have to fight her.

But she really does have great knockers. Lucky Jazzy! he thought.

He was surprisingly clean for having slaughtered a lot of zombies in a short time, mostly because by using his blood armor and his sword, he kept them at a good distance. He felt a little uneasy though, like he could sense another demonic presence nearby, but it was pretty faint. He headed for the church, where he saw the towering nun in white robes approaching.

"Rachel! Rachel, you saucy sister you!" he said with a big grin. "You look gorgeous!"

"Ryan! It's so good to see you, you little fucker!" the half orc woman said and picked up up from under the armpits like she'd pick up a child. She smacked him two crossed kisses on his cheeks and held him back to look at him. "My God you look so thin, what the heck happened to you? What are you doing with this medley of people?"

Ryan seemed to take the man-- er, nun-handling with a certain degree of amusement even as his feet dangled off the ground. "I was a prisoner. Freakin' warlock was using my blood for some experiments. Stupid really. I got busted out and took him down with these guys. Say, what's been going on around here, Rachel?"

Rachel put him down at last and balling her massive hands she put them on her waist. "We've got a lich problem. Dipshit showed up three days ago and we've been swimming in zombies and stuff ever since. I've only had a peep at the guy, he seems pretty... well, ordinary as far as liches go but I have a feeling he doesn't quite know what the heck he's doing... It's been three days, you'd think by then he'd start pulling up bone dragons or undead hellhounds."

Ryan scratched his head, puzzled. "Funny... I got a look at him too and I was wondering how long he's been here. Any idea if he's set up some HQ in town?"

Rachel sighed. "I haven't got the foggiest, Ryan, sorry."
 
Last edited:
@Technocrat Red Fox Setsuna F. Seiei

OOC: *glower* You can post know. Also, we'll be reintroducing an old char soon.

IC:

Raz stomped across the battlefield as Ryan greeted the giant, who he was apparently friends with. She was still muttering under her breath as she put her armor back on; there wasn't time to put another shirt on so she may as well just go in her bra. At least Ryan had the wisdom to keep his mouth shut about the color.

It had been a gift, okay?

Anyway, she didn't want to lose another shirt to squishbag juice. She jammed her sword into it's sheathe and, blithely ignoring the reek of zombies and the reaction her display had cause, stormed into the church.

She stopped in the doorway at what she saw.

Off in the corner, a familiar, vaguely demonic face peered at her. "Clair? Holy shit, you must've gotten scooped up by the teleportation traps in the castle. What were the chances of seeing you here!"
 
Clair glanced back, looking almost cheerful as she saw Raz, who she hadn't seen since she had wandered away from them at the castle. "Oh hello!" she grinned almost happily as she took a seat on a zombie corpse, straddling it as if it didn't reek and crumble under her light weight. "Yeah, the teleportation spell fucked me up. It was like I was going on a flight and then I ended up here with all these...zombies."

She pulled her sword out of the zombie's throat, wiped it off with the dirty rags the zombie had been wearing, and sheathed it again, before entwining her fingers absently while staring at the sky. She spent a few seconds like this before looking back at Raz.

"Oh yeah! I have a question! Aren't zombies like...not allowed around here? Holy grounds and shit? And what made them show up here? I know zombies don't usually come around by themselves. Don't tell me I'm dealing with a necromancer here..." She grimaced. "They're really hard to kill and they taste horrible. I'm not really hungry though so I guess that won't be a problem."
 
Tali was almost scared for her very life as Raz stood up. She looked absolutely livid with her. “FATTY? WHADDAYA MEAN FATTY?!” She walked over to the zombies that stood between her and Tali “HOW’S THIS FOR A FATTY?!” From there, she threw her sword into a zombie and did the one thing that Tali would have never have seen coming. She took off her armor and the shirt she wore under it. The only thing she still wore was a pair of jeans and a very pink and lacy bra. Tali simply stood there for a little bit. However, once she managed to figure out just what was going on, she blushed and turned her head. She couldn’t help but notice that Raz had a rather nice body. She mentally kicked herself in the head for thinking it.

As Raz started killing every zombie in sight, Tali simply started doing the same. The only difference was that she was using fire and lightning and ice to kill zombies whereas Raz was using a sword. Tali wasn’t moving very much from one location as she kept zapping the heads of zombies that got near her. Luckily for her, not a single drop of their blood landed on her. Once they were all gone, Raz looked back at her smugly. “Can a fatty do that?” Tali couldn’t help but giggle and mutter under her breath. “Yes, I think so.” After a while of once again Tali mentally dozing off, she followed Raz and Ryan back to the church. Inside was the somewhat familiar face of Clair. After Clair asked her questions, Tali couldn’t help but be rude about it.

“That is probably a simple urban legend. I am pretty sure if they wanted they could come in here at anytime and still manage to eat your brain… if you have one.”
 
Ryan peeked past Rachel and grinned at Clair. "Well hey there! I'm glad to see you got outta Morris okay!"

"Morris?!" Rachel blurted. "You got your skinny little pervert ass over in Morris!? I told you that was bad news!" the half-orc groaned and facepalmed.

Ryan grimaced. "Wasn't my bad! Anyway!" he grumbled. "It looks like we're not gonna no peace of mind while this warlock's running around. Rachel, how come the paladins haven't descended on this place yet?"

"I have no idea, hon. I think it's got something to do with the Abbey of Cicercia up north getting blown to bits during that warlock trial last month," the nun replied.

"So I guess we're gonna have to clean up this mess," the bard sighed.

Rachel held her hands up. "If you will, what's left of the village will be at your feet, sweetie. Please do something. I've got holy magic but a lich is way outta my league."

Ryan shrugged and looked at the others. "Well... I'm game..." he said, with a questioning look to the others. "Oh hey, Rachel, you guys still got that two-way scrying font?"

"Yes, but it isn't working now. Too much necromantic interference, I think," Rachel shrugged. "Why, you need to send a message?"

"Uh, yeah, but I guess it can wait. Hey, guys," he said, turning to the others again. "Does anybody know how to track magic? Necromantic magic, specifically? It'll make our lives a hella lot easier."
 
Raz had seen many a strange chair in her travel but a zombie had to be the most unusual. She quirked an eyebrow as Clair straddled her zombie-corpse-chair.... thing. "Got me sister. I didn't think zombies could come on hallowed ground either but hey, I only ever took them out in graveyards and jungles. Maybe these are religious zombies?"

She shrugged and leaned against a pillar, doing her best to wipe some zombie gunk off the bottom of her sneakers. "I think it's a lich necromancer. At least that's why Ryan said. I have no idea, I just kill people."

Raz listened absently to Ryan and Rachel while she fiddled with the straps of her amor, fitting it around her more snugly now that she was shirtless. "If it means I can get a hot shower by the end of all this, I'll take out that lich personally. And hey, free drinks, right?" Without waiting for an answer, Raz turned to Tali. "Hey, Tals! You heard the man, get to sniffing necro magic. It shouldn't be hard, right? You could probably smell it a mile away."

Raz stopped for a second, looking like she'd missed something. "Hey, where did Cerden and Aaron go? And that paladin guy? Are they still dicking around those zombies?"
 
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