RP:The Only Good Bug

Hello, and welcome to The Only Good Bug RP! This rp was starter by Rorin and features a small adventure through the woods to find and destroy the source of an infecting scourge that recently began plaguing the southern forests. The title is a reference to Robin's favorite movie Starship Troopers, and the following notice was posted by him on the tenth to gather players. Admission ended September 12, and the players will be tagged as follows.

Kelay Tavern

(A notice from the desk of the mayor is posted asking for help, looking quite prim) Seeking adventurers to destroy the sudden appearence of a species of beetles that is terrorizing the southern forests. Please, if anyone can help us end the source of these dire insects, come help us. You will be rewardes upon completion of the task. Let us band together as a people to squash this threat quick and precisely! (An addendum by the local sherrif follows, written dark and heavy in blotches of ink) Wanted: Three to six applicants. Task: Find and destroy source of threat. Reward: to be recieved upon completion. Threat level is presumed low, investigation required, Rangers, mages, druids, warriors, knights, palladins, and spellblades preffered, any may apply. Meet in front of the tavern, early on the twelfth of September. Bring your own weapons. Prepare for a small journey at least.

Kelay Way

The Sheriff, rather a deputy standing in his place, was a rough looking little old dwarf, decked in armors and lazing about in a chair. Finally noticing people had gathered, he would rise with a grumble and shout "all right, ya bunch of" he would mumble some insult, "Get in line, allaya. Lemme have a look atchya." After the assembled had lined up he would begin asking questions, "all right whos a ranger? And whos a mage? Hold uo your hands one at a time dangit." He would watch and grumble to himself, spitting, "any questions from ya or do yall have the testicular fortitude to squash a few piddly bugs on your own?" He clearly didn't have a particularly high view of their task and looked as though he believed to be wasting his time. Rorin- suited in full tough leather armors head to toe with a half irom face mask that left only his wide oprn crystalline grey eyes tinted with blue to watch the people coming in closely, having hishaving his own measure of disdain for this 'deputy'. An official who acted like this wasn't vefy official at all. He stood in line like the rest, happily waiting- he had managed to get a lot of sleep and wake up early just for this. His first adventure without his knight, and in this new world. He was honestly pretty excited.

Draben | Being intrigued by the written notice found inside the tavern, the elf had decided that he would investigate. A surplus of bugs was certainly far from a stable ecosystem, and Draben felt as if it was his duty to seek out balance for the local flora and fauna. This, however, was not what he was expecting. Barking orders grumpily, a dwarf began to ask for occupation and credentials. Half-heartedly, Draben’s hand raised at the call of a ranger – as if the bow fitted snugly to his backside was not indication enough. He did not speak however. Instead, he chose to spend his time examining those around him who would be working with him in order to repel the unorthodox threat.

Orikahn shoulders his way out of the tavern, sneering and reeking of strong spirits. The massive cat is every bit of seven feet tall and three hundred pounds of lean muscle. His fur is striped black and coffee brown, a bow and quiver hang at his back, a medicine bag at his side, and a garland of humanoid sculls at his hip. From beneath the shadows of his hood, fierce eyes glint, and the bright enamel of his saber fangs glares in sunlight. It takes him a moment to adjust to the harsh outdoors after the very dim tavern interior; he grimaces, shielding his hooded face from the sun, and in that brief moment of hesitation, the sherrif shoves him in line with the other bug-stomping recruits. Orikahn, stumbles to. Did he stumble of his own accord? Was he pushed? Best to just growl and hope no one notices. Of course he meant to be here. Of course that was on purpose.

Skylei :: News travels fast round these parts – indeed, it had been the major topic of conversation the previous evening in her usual haunt – The Whaler’s Bar in Cenril. There was a job to be done, and likely some pay for doing it. Since her… injuries, Skylei had stayed away from physical work, choosing instead to lock herself in a library or study with naught but tomes for company/ But something about this job had intrigued her. Large party, easy task – a nice easy break back into the part of her life that she missed most – she’d packed her bag that night and left for Kelay in the early hours of the morning. Before they’re called to order, the half-blood had stood away from the crowd leaning against the wall and observing, a well-crafted longbow resting in her left hand. She pulls a face at the treatment of the party by the Deputy; he clearly had no idea who she was. “Ew.” Skylei verbalises what they’re all thinking as spittle lines the face of the Deputy. Arms fold lightly across her chest as she falls ungraciously into line and she ignores the request for her to raise her hand. Just by looking at Skylei it’s obvious she’s a ranger; elven, clad head to toe in worn leathers and boots made to hike tricky terrains, and decked with a bow and arrows. She won’t indulge the ignorance of others, but does slide herself alongside Draben – making sure he stands in between her and Orikahn. That guy is terrifying.

The Deputy eyes them over in turn, making appropriate grumbles and expressions due to his observations. He would walk and stand in front of each, sizing them up. "All right, you all brought a weapon. Good. I see only one of you is fit for a trek- but there's enough of ya. More might find ya later so be expecting a few new arrivals." He would would over to the six foot, armored and armed man with a large pack bundled with items. Rorim unconsciously stood a little straighter as yhe dwarf sized him up. "All right you- you're the only one who brought supplies as posted- so you get the map." The dwarf would almost shove a paper into Rorins chest where his gauntleted hands fumbled to grab it. The dwarf would look at everyone else. "Hes captain. Any questions?" Without waitung for an answer hed continue, "go find the bugs and kill em. When ya do that find me at Sheriffs road." With no real goodbye he would wave them off and start to trot down the street. Rorin would be left confused and a bit consternated as he held and looked at the map, stuttering but still sounding gruff through hjs mask, "uh, uhm, all right- uh- mmy names Rorin and it's nice to meet you? I guess we're all hear to find ans crush the beetle menace." He sounded a little more sure of himself, "swahndu Ii have the map. Any one want it? I mean- ii don't uuhhobject or anything." He would shuffle, hoping theg weren't staring at him.

Draben | These were strange times for the elf. Curiously, he watched the exchange between the disgruntled dwarf and those around him who would become his temporary associates. The strangest of parties, he didn’t doubt. Handing a crumpled piece of paper to another man, the dwarf scuttled off. Fantastic. Giving a firm nod to the man, Draben remained mute. Idly, he began to finger the daggers at his hip as he waited for his apparent captain to issue out orders. This should be painless, it’s just a bug infestation, after all.

Orikahn rolls his shoulders and his neck, joints popping audibly. The little, soft people (with crunchy centers) were babbling about... bugs? Kahn sniffs noisily and spits a wad of phlegm into the dusty street. His eyes settle upon Rorin in overt scrutiny. Kahn wipes his feline muzzle on the inside of his elbow. The sabercat has about three seconds of patience, and the paladin wastes it on stutters. "So we kill them?" Kahn's deep basso rumbles out, and he looks to the others for conformation. "We kill bugs." Needing some kind of confirmation or validation, he glares at Skylei, picking on the one who seemed to shy away from him earlier. "Right?!"

Skylei and Orikahn have one thing in common at least; a short patience span. Eyeing the group, Skylei sees no one -less- qualified to lead the group than the stuttering paladin. She approaches, offers her name – “Skylei” – but no niceties and then cranes her head to eye the map. Eyes scan the page, commit the details to memory and then the half-elf nods, “We go this way, right?” She would phrase it as a question, but the fact of the matter is that, before anyone has a chance to respond, the half-breed is already walking away from the group in the direction she had indicated. As she passes Kahn, she’s hit with his question and pulling a face in visible discomfort she would pause and make eye contact, “Yes. We are going to kill the bugs. This way.” Then she would continue on her way.

Rorin appeared to have little say in any matters, but he was honestly fine with that. He would look at Orikahn and more steadily say, "yeah, I guess so. Just find and kill the bugs," he watched Skylei present herself and partially tilted the map towards her. After a quick check of the conpass, he confirmed, before noticing she was walking walf and began trying to catch up.

Stomp the Yard

Fenced-in Yard

Rorin and the group would arrive in a bit of a strange local. A garden met them, surrounded by a white picket fence. Crows and a vulture perched on the roof of the nearby house. Whaf was once a peaceful scene has turned strangely grisly. The many vegetables here are prayed upon by alien grubs, unrecognizable worms or maggots the size of human babies, some larger. In a sudden twist one would rear up and open its maw to reveal a throat of razor sharp teeth and a blackened back shining in the sun. It would wiggle strange stubs and propel itself towards two others that look like it- landing mouth first on the carcass of a dog that they were devouring rapidly. Near twenty of them currently resided here, only five or so looking shelled. The smell of rotten meat and greens is on the breeze, and crunches and shrieks fill it as well as the creatures fight fir food. Rorin is slightly repulsed, unknowing what to say about these creatures. "They look like larva?" He would guess, but they were far larger than aby he had ever seen. Some were almost the size of toddlers. The yard has been picked clean of grass and a few other gristly meals of small animals dot it. "How should we dk this?" He would ask any tactical opinion if the group.

Draben followed his new band of bug slayers through the village, brown eyes clearly occupied by internal thought and not with the task at hand. Immediately trailing the half-elf, Draben’s nose began to twitch as a foul odor began to permeate through the air. It was a familiar scent for the elf – the scent of death. Turning the corner into some unknown family’s garden, the source of the stench revealed itself. Horror briefly flashed across Draben’s features before he quickly suppressed it, and then the elf chose to finally speak. “Those are no ordinary insects. Or, at least none I’ve seen.” Maintaining his calm, nimble hands slowly draw the blades from his waist. Brown eyes turn to the awkwardly appointed captain, Rorin, before meeting with the remainder of the group. “Make the call, shall we kill them?”

Rorin said to Draben, "Of course we kill them, just...how? They're disgusting it looks like pirahnnas had babies with leaches."

Orikahn follows with palpable reluctance, brooding over the possible note of rebuke he had sensed in Skylei's tone. Whether real or imagined, it earns his fellow ranger a spot of Kahn's "watch" list. The trek is surprisingly short, and the sabercat is surprised to be stopping already. "Hmm?" He grunts. There's just enough time for him to begin looking confused before, wham, the stink of death a rot smacks him right in the jacobson's organ. "Blagh." Amid much tongue smacking and grimacing, Kahn draws out a wineskin of grog and takes a sip, washing the unwelcome scents from his palate with pungent spice and potent liquor. Swish, swish, swallow, spit. "Twah." He hawks the boozy wad through the air, a groggy glob that sails in an arc and lands, splat," right on the head of one of the overgrown grubs. It recoils and flexes its stumpy little body in warning. Kahn snorts, snickers, guffaws, and does his best to hide his laughter.

Skylei wouldn’t deny that the sight before them is disgusting and the stench is nauseating. But even more nauseating, in Skylei’s mind at least, is the fact that that their so-called leader can’t even come up with a concrete plan on how to wipe out the containment. She turns away from both Draben and Rorin and rolls her eyes, pretending to be fiddling with the attachments on her bow. Yes, the bugs are slightly larger than the average – but Skylei hadn’t really expected anything less. Who hirers a band of mercenaries to take out a minor pest problem? But still, these bugs are smaller than the average person – and people really aren’t that hard to kill… She throws out some options and thoughts, “Do you want to set up a containment zone and burn the yard to the ground? Do you want to drown them? Do you believe we need to separate the brain from the body? Or drain their blood? From the size of those carcasses, I would assume that they are utilising some kind of poison to take down their prey – or some kind of swarming mechanism… either way, I don’t think I’d want to get too close…” As she speaks, the half-breed reaches into her pack and pulls out a small black-purple swirling pendant and places it around her neck. Then she would wait for instruction, forcing herself not to laugh at the wineskin incident.

Rorin was thankful someone had actual ideas. He looked at the yard- "23 of them exactly. 8 of them have... Shells? Lets not burn it, this is someones yard, but I think we'll have to destroy most of the body. It's definitely swarming so- everyone with a bow fire support, Orikahn- you and I should charge forward and lure them into attack. Then duck and cover while our archers barage them. Ready?" He would raise sword and shield and wait to have any questions or comments before charging in.

Draben | Suppressing the impulse to grin, Draben swiftly removes his bow from his back and begins to set an arrow. Carefully, he trots several feet to the side in order to facilitate an unonbstructed field of fire against the strange worms. Confident fingers lock the arrow in place and begin to gently tug on the bowstring, although internally the elf believes this plan is half-baked. With a sigh, he chooses to speak again: “Would it not be more prudent to just clear them with arrows? There’s enough of us armed with bows to just back far away and clear them all before they can get to us. There’s no need to immediately engage.”

You said to Draben, "After watching that one clear twenty feet in a couple of seconds, bows alone won't be fast enough. They're pretty fast so without something else to focus on- us- they'd spread out. A few might still but let's hope not."

Orikahn realizes he's being addressed and shoves the stopper back in his wineskin. "Hrm?" The full brunt of his attention settles once more on Rorin, and, ah, right. "Yes. We charge them." Selective hearing in full tilt, Orikahn mentally and physically prepares himself for a death-and-glory romp though gooey bug corpses. He flexes, groans, and stretches, putting his many, mighty, MANLY massive muscles through their routine courses. After this gratuitous display, Kahn signals he is ready with a blast of air from his nares. Last, but far from least, he flexes his pawlike mitts to unsheathe his rather cruel looking claws.

Skylei :: Whilst grateful for the attempt at leadership, Skylei is underwhelmed by the choice of action. As to the comment that it’s still someone’s yard, the half-elf sighs and mutters, “It’s really not much of a yard, is it…” but resigns herself to the request that she merely shoots some arrows into the fray. She would break away from the group, find an appropriate tree that bordered the garden and swing her way up into the lower branches. Once she was sufficiently perched, the half-elf would confirm that she had a sufficient line of sight and wait for the onslaught

Rorin had not actually hears if Orikahn agreed or not, having paid more attention to Draben. He wasn't quite sure why he was leader- hopefully this plan would work and he would feel a little more concrete in such a position. The closest line were eight of the bugs- spread out to munch on veggies, wriggling and writhing as their multiple throats and rows of teeth grinded and gorged. Seeing Skylei take her mark, the squire would begin shuffling, readying for battle as he tensed up and moved about. "All right one, two," after a moment he would scream and start rushing in, hoppping the fence with ease, making plenty if noise to draw their attention. The bugs would look up and screech, shaking as they appeared tensing to jump the thirty or forty feet space.

Draben backpeddled quickly, not wanting to be anywhere near the bugs when they chose to lunge at the party. The elf gives a simple shrug to Rorin’s words as he draws the bowstring to its full potential. Kicking himself, he watches the woman scale the side of a tree with practiced ease. Quietly, he would wonder why he didn’t choose to pick a more advantageous position. His slim frame gently bumps the edge of a fence, and with a slight chuckle, the elf hops over the barrier, hoping it will serve as some protection from the hungry worms. With Rorin’s countdown, scream, and charge, the bowstring is released. A single arrow sails through the air with an audible whistle, plunging through the body of the disgusting creature and pinning it to the earth as it tensed up in order to meet Rorin’s onslaught. Without a moment’s hesitation, Draben notches another arrow and draws the string back, ready to deal out more death to these overgrown scum.

Orikahn let's Rorin get to "one" before leaping past him and roaring, fangs and claws flashing alike as he barrels toward the bugs. Hands spread wide, he catches one that leaps his way, slicing it into surprisingly neat disks that tumble through the air and splat messily on the lawn. The next larva that springs for Kahn gets a facefull of furry knuckles, breaking nearly all of its spiny little teeth and sending its mushy little head right through its wriggly butt with an audible "pop". Several others manage to land on the cat, attaching themselves to his chest, side, and legs. Kahn bellows in savage rage. He plucks one off, his red blood already mingling with the larval mouth-goop, and he throws the grub like a projectile, throwing a perfect spiral. The bug collides with another midair, and the resulting impact splatters ichor down the feral feline's front. Satisfied with this outcome, Kahn plucks off another and readies his improvised grub grenade, looking for the perfect target.

Skylei::From up in the tree, Skylei has an exceptional view of the carnage that occurs below her. As neither of the initial attackers seem to be struggling, the half-elf satisfies herself with picking off the stray bugs that lurk around the edges of the pack. Each of her steel-tipped arrows is set alight with a quietly muttered incantation before being aimed at the point where Skylei can only imagine the bugs ‘nape’ would be. Do bugs have napes? Skylei finds herself quietly contemplating the questions of arthropod biology as she attempts to take out as many of the sliming creatures as she can. She underestimates the amount of force needed to cleanly take the head from the body with the first hit and one of the bugs ends up charging, as though beserk, around the yard with its head only half-attached to the rest of its body, and a body on fire. Once she’d realised her mistake and corrected her draw, Skylei barely needs to move as she picks aims at the bugs with the natural ease that only comes with handling a bow for most of one’s life.

-There was a post here. There's not now-

Draben | Initially, the situation seemed routine and dull. The presence of these strange creatures had made the issue certainly more pressing, however the elf assumed the threat would be dispatched handily. After the first few arrows had been fired, however, the engagement had inexplicably turned for the worse. The wounds of the worms seemed to only trigger some sort of strange transformation! Sprouting from the bloodied bodies were flailing appendages, making the creatures more lethal and ominous than their prior forms, and prompting Draben to quickly fire his arrow at the leader of the pack – who was heading straight for the perched elf at an alarming pace. Inhaling sharply, Draben sprinted northward, running parallel to the fence that served as his only defense from the creatures. “Regroup!”, he shouted, as his brown eyes searched for a more advantageous position to hold.

Orikahn blinks in alarm at the first metamorphosis, and he selects it as the obvious target for his grub-in-hand, throwing the razor-toothed larva like a gooey javelin right for its recently transformed broodmate, putting his weight into the toss and hoping do some real lethal damage. Now to address these nasty suckers that have attached themselves to his fine, fuzzy form. Using claws and, where applicable, teeth, he begins working to gnaw, pry, slice, or otherwise deal with these bleeders. "Gr. Hah. Mmmph. GRAAAAH!" The cat's frustration is evident, and if he doesn't begin making progress soon, he'll be out of the fight

[Some edits required]