Fable - Ask Fear and Loathing in the Land of Barrows

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Sky Rending Tiger | Hundred Ivory Sovereign | Four Sealed Sage
"Join me," said the tyrant of Mount Hoa, the Sky Rending Tiger, Hu Ji.​
"Okay," said Zhi.​
Now he was rid of Iron Gong and Green Poet and every other issue that had been on his register. Half-Blade Zhi came up the steps after Ji. He attempted to look indifferent, but anyone with the proper perception would have more accurately seen a rat scampering to the top of a pile of gold. He sat in a seemingly random spot. When his stomach growled, a similarly random attendant bought him a bowl of soup.​
Just as Zhi started sucking down noodles, he observed in the arena a dainty fellow digging through one of the corpses. Hunger obliviated whatever impact this would normally have on his appetite. He still felt disgust, though. Apparently it was a necromancer down there. And the lizard was just staring at him instead of chopping the necromancer's head off while he was busy.​
It was exactly as he suspected. All that trouble to break out the ultimate power and it was still just some guy. A hapless sack of scales! Zhi considered weeping into his soup to enhance the seasoning.​
Exactly one moment before the necromancer started hurling bone darts everywhere, Zhi helpfully said "Watch out," through a mouthful of noodles. Projectiles stuck into the steps all around him, but the Half-Blade himself was unharmed.​
 
"Welcome, Half-Blade," Ji says without sparing Zhi a glance. He says nothing else, as if the Half-Blade's novelty has already worn off and his interest in the swordsman passed.​
The tiger's maw gapes from a loud, drawn out yawn. He lazily slouches back in his seat as the new pair in the ring engage in a contest of words. He idly scratches the armrest of his seat with a finger as he patiently awaits the fighting to begin.​
It presents him the opportunity to ponder allowing one's opponent to prepare their most honed techniques. While the necromancer ravages the sage of blade's fresh corpse, the tiger thinks of stomping down on his head. He imagines that the Half-Blade would jab the broken, jagged point of his sword at him in a single fatal stroke. Neither would pass on the opportunity.​
Only the Half-Blade understands the tiger.​
Everyone watches but none leap into action as the necromancer attacks Ji. The reverence for the tiger is born of fear and intimidation, not of love nor compassion. As such, there is a collective intake of air in anticipation of the tyrant's death.​
With the urgency of waving a fly away, Ji lifts his hand off of the armrest and holds it out in front of him with splayed fingers. Rather than being pierced by the shards, he is dusted with calcium particles. He and the young Jaha, who remained close to his side, are unscathed. He lowers his hand.​
The silence is broken by the tiger's chilling timbre.​
"Impressive. You may fight now."​
 
Last edited:
A futile blow from this shaman of bone.

So much knowledge accumulated in the shaman’s mortal span, all useless in the face of one simply more powerful. The law of the jungle.

Another breath through the nose sent curling wisps of fog from Xun’s nostrils. He should not answer the tiger in like kind. But Xunlóng, Caller of Calamity, often did not do as he should. That was why he was here, despite the teachings of the Wise Celestial Master.

Violence begat violence begat violence begat -

Another deep breath. His body grew warm. Above, dark clouds gathered swiftly.

The rope binding Xun’s wrists began to smoke and blacken. Xun moved his hands and the withered bindings simply fell apart.

Thick thunderheads occluded the skies and cast the festival goers into darkness. The chanting and dancing drew to a still in the biting mountain air. A sudden energy coursed through the village. Hair stood on end.

“Enough,” said Xunlóng, then he spoke in a language they would understand.

The Sage brought his palms together in a clap that reverberated across the village. Six tongues of lightning came down from on high in brilliant, blinding forks of blue. They smote Iron Gong and his minions in the blink of an eye with the crack of an explosion.

Thunder rumbled in all its dark grandeur.

The air stilled.

The clouds rolled away.

Light shone down.

Six corpses smoldered beneath Mount Hoa.