AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic - [Forest of Despair] A Sign Placed

*A signboard is firmly entrenched into the ground of the Forest of Despair, in plain view of where the slaughters were reported at*

*Etched on the sign is a message occasionally punctuated with spelling errors*

Good morning to the Banites!

Did the absolute failure Resator tell ye about his not so glorious encounter? I wouldn't be surprised if he did not… for ye Banites sure have a knack fer covering up or avoidin yer embarrassments!

I bet ye lot have been sacrificin adventurers who were merely honing their skills on the wolf abominations. How big an’ mighty of ye!

Two of yer fellows tried ta extort money from me, an’ I’ve been kind enough to let it pass. But with tha latest incident with the incompetent Resator, I DEMAND 10 million gold pieces, which I will then distribute equally amongst the innocents you have killed “apparently in my name”. Otherwise yer embarrassment will never end... and it’s already getting stale fer me.

Since I’m just an average adventurer who squared off with a couple o’ ye clowns who’ve been havin’ a good time killin’ adventurers probably in training, I’d be doing you all a favor and rate ye lot according to competency, so ye can reshuffle yer order. From the LEAST INcompetent to the MOST.

Rank 3 –

Tha Sneaky coward named Vaylek, or so I’ve heard from the people I’ve spoke to. This fella tried ta backstab me and failed miserably. TWICE.

But at least he managed ta use the gap between his teeth ta whistle for tha fat Banite coward to be gutted. I like his spirit, so that makes him the least incompetent of the lot, as impossible as tha might sound.

Rank 2 –

I heard a Shark merchant mention the name of this blackguard fella. Resator.

Two words ta describe him. Absolute Failure. He be tauntin’ me in town all day and didn’t know how ta appreciate me magnanimity, guess his specialty be producing promises o’ gold from his mouth that his arse can’t cash.

Utterly slain and humiliated in a fight which he initiated with me in Wiltun. What OY COMPLETE FOOL!
*shaky handwriting probably due to laughter at this point*

Well I’m sure The Cordorian citizens and Guards would know more of tha spectacle.

I’d rank this joker number 1, but I’m sure the Banites would outdo themselves in their idiocy.

Rank 1 –

To be added when Bane gives ye bunch mer free tickets out o’ death.

You think tha was over? Ye lot be wrong. I’ve reserved a special Tier for tha most incompetent of you clowns.

*apparently written with as much flourish as the writer can muster*

The Tier of Ultimate Incompetence –

This fatty here be called Daiton (I think, for I do not remember the names of pork). I’ll keep it simple and short and ye lot can decide how skilled this self proclaimed “Lord” or “Inquisitor” is.

Here’s what he did:

Ambushed me. Hid behind Greater Sanctuary TWICE. Still managed to lose. Got his head chopped off.

Four losses an’ ye’re still at it. Don’t embarrass yerselves further. Cough up tha 10 million, an’ ask tha fat banite bastard ta give up his mantle already.

P.S. You poor lot may pay in installments, for I saw the sad Resator savin cash to pay tha Shark merchant fer some Wulf fat an a bastard sword.

Signed,
Obsidian Aermannen

*A human shifter happens to stroll by as he notices the sign, He whistles impressed as he reads thought the content. In disbelief and shock me manages to shrink to halfling size as he spots the name on the bottom*

::He snarls for himself:: Oh (cencored)! The Dread Inquisitor won't be pleased hearing this!

I better make a copy and ...Let somebody else show it to him. ::He swallows::

A green-haired witch reads the line with amusement: :"Got his head chopped off."
"Chopped it off and didn't put it on public display? Amateur."

*Vaylek happens upon the sign, soon realising it was made by Obsidian, he has a quick glance around to see if he's present. Looking back down at it, he shakes his head and snickers wickedly*

Stupid prick. Yer days are numbered, Obsidian.

...Oh well, more fun fer me. More blood and gore in Bane's name until he either shows himself or someone hands him over. Them's the orders and I aint about ta start disobeyin' now.

*He jogs off northbound, rapiers drawn*

*A particularly distracted, Red haired elf sees the notice and frouns a bit.*

Seems the banites are just making everyone mad, maybe they'll just turn over and die and i wont have to waste arrows...

*she makes a quick copy of the sign and walks away*

Aserral comes across the sign, he frowns slightly as he reads the sign before taking mental notes of the names of the Banites mentioned.

Well that was useful to know.

*a small, shapely hin in black and green happens upon the sign and, as she glances through it, starts laughing quietly to herself, the sound tinted with a smug darkness, though she simply shakes her head and walks off without commenting*

A woman in white and gold, face covered by her helm, reads the sign silently. An elven male in black fades out of the darkness next to her, red eyes glowing wickedly from the slits of his helm. There's nothing but silence for a moment as the two regard it, then pad away swiftly.

*As he waits for word from a particular someone, idle chatter seep into his helm whilst in the Amia Forest mentioning the sign with chuckles.

He curiously strolls to view the sign himself. After reading it, he leans to swipe his palm across the wood, dusting off dirt. No aloud comments are made. Already knowing full well how cowardly Banites are, he finds the satisfaction in others realizing it as well.

Just as calmly, he returns to the Amia Forest to wait.*

*Silithia sees the notice and writes a note on the sign*

Obsidian, you seem competent. I could use a bodyguard like thee, seek me out around the traps, Silithia.

*A crude note is added to the sign.*

"I am disappointed to see that the Salandrans have failed to apprehend and heal the seemingly mentally unstable individual known as "Obsidian Aermannen".

Obsidian, I understand your frustration after the Church of Bane first apprehended you as an innocent bystander, and proceeded to sacrifice you.

I also understand that your aggrevation likely became worse after I killed you in the Amian Frontier.

But really, your lies and slander are getting tiring. If you truly want to become famous, then perhaps you should actually do the acts of heroes which you claim to have done.

You have yet to kill me, and you won't ever be able to do it.

All that you're doing, is endanger other innocents due to your false claims.

So far, you've knowingly allowed 10 innocent victims to be sacrificed while you maintain this farse.

These sacrifices will continue until you either STOP HIDING IN CORDOR, someone hands you over to the Church of Bane, or you pay the debt which was presented to you.

How many more innocent victims are you willing to sacrifice just to fuel your propaganda of lies and slander, just to benefit your own false reputation?

More so... I am greatly disappointed by the so called "noble" Knights of Kohlingen.

Yaston Sylgerand himself, after having been addressed with the issue that is Obsidian Aermannen, seemed to have no issue with the number of sacrifices and common grief which Obsidian is inflicting upon the isle.

The Black Hand stands strong, and does not tolerate nor accept the conduct and behaviour which Obsidian Aermannen is employing.

From now on, -anyone- who is seen speaking to, hiring services or otherwise interacts with Obsidian Aermannen will be considered as a supporter of his heretic cause, and will be killed and sacrificed.

And trust me, the Church of Bane has enough employed spies to keep us fully informed of Obsidian Aermannen's current affairs and anyone who participates in them.

How much of this chaos and disorder, caused by Obsidian Aermannen, will this isle tolerate?

The Church of Bane insists on solving this matter as soon as possible, yet Obsidian Aermannen seems persistant in allowing innocents suffer to his treacherous benefit."

A young women with red hair, tattoos, clothing and a use greatsword swung across her back comes across the sign and laughts. 'By Tempus they should just go for eachother throats!' She then wanders off mumbling something to it seems herself.

A young woman with balck hair, dressed in the colours of the Salandran Temple, wanders by and pauses to read the sign and the added scrawls. Tapping her foot she says under her breath " Oh dear, I realy think everyone on this island needs to be commited to the mental health wing.... Everyone". Shaking her head to herself she wanders off.

Obsidian wanders past the sign, glances through the content of the message and stifles a laugh. Choking back on a piece of snot, he proceeds to withdraw the bastard sword which was involved in the grisly task of decapitating the author of the note, places the tip against the sign, and with moderate force, etches a line under these two sentences:

“ye Banites sure have a knack fer covering up or avoidin yer embarrassments!”

“clowns who’ve been havin’ a good time killin’ adventurers probably in training”

An additional note is tacked below:

*written in large firm fonts, perhaps indicating extreme incredulity*

Famous? An act of heroes? For gutting and decapitating you?

Don’t flatter yerself Daiton. Or whatever yer name is. Perhaps the act of slaughtering pigs has been elevated to that a divine deed. If that’s the case, I’ll be sure ta bow ta the next butcher I see!

The finality of the encounter is:

Yer death was very real, yer decapitation was very real. Ye were outwitted, outplayed, and very outclassed.

Suck it up aye? Oy understan’ it’d be a tad difficult doin’ tha act after what yer dad probably subjected ye to when ye were a young un’.

The only lies are yer grandiose dreams of supremacy and self-import. Says quite a bit about yer mental state aye? Lord o’ killin’ new adventurers in trainin’!

Waitin’ fer tha 10 million, and an additional million fer each new adventurer ye kill.

Signed,
Obsidian Aermannen

The portly figure saunters off whistling a merry tune, casually tossing and catching a small pouch of gold.

::Viktor wanders up, spotting the sign and the various grafitti on it, he burst out in anger, would you be close you would hear him from afar::

How dare he! Obsidian is a monster, More of a monster than Darthion Illys for provoking the banites! How dare you let this continue!

I shall hunt you obsidian, and i shall tuck your head in as a reward, for you spit in the face of evil and then flee the consequences, having others feeling the horrible wrath of bane.

I call upon all Hoarites to strike him with vengeance in your hearts, and justice as your intentions.

Cut him in ten pieces for every innocent that died by his cowardness!

Hang the remains from a tree, for the pride he have shown!

Blood by blood!

::He scribbles down what he had said, and wanders off cursing::

The gold-and-white clad woman looks again to the dark-clad elf at her side, nodding to the notice about Hoarites.

"What do you think, Master?" she asks calmly.

"I think it's time to batten the hatches, child."

After the short exchange of words with the woman clad in gold-and-white, the elf in black colors turns his back to the wooden sign, looking thoughtful for a moment, then spin around and strikes the sign with his palms, the impact bending the legs the sign stands on, breaking them and sending the pile of random notes into the pits of the Forest of Despair. The man remains calm during and after such display, heading off.

"Come, my child. We have much to do and much less time to do it."

A figure in black leathers moves (well enough to avoid notice by most) through the trees, pausing to inspect the notice of which news has reached around the isle. Raising a delicate hand it affixes a small, gold-bordered placard to one side of the sign before glancing around nervously and disappearing again.

Quote:

Life brings pleasure and brings pain
First one, the next, then back again
But look to joy and not to strife
To keep the hurt and fear from life
Though we must live by nature's rule
Who makes himself a slave's a fool
Bow not to those who make you kneel
With mailed fist and iron heel
But cast those fetters off and dance
Let Love the joys of life enhance

Silithia, seeing the notes and the like, scattered about the ground, she reads each one with interest.

"See what thee have done Second Speaker? You allowed your apprentice Fzoul, to spawn upon the far flung corners of the globe...it is why I do not trust you or your legacy..."

She walks on, going off in search of Obsidian.

[Forest of Despair] A Sign Placed - Warning to the Banites

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