Heroes of Ilira: A Royal Mess - RP Topic

“…And so, after what had to be quite the trek for some among them, our band of unlikely allies arrived at the gates of Castle Dravalong, an invincible fortress that has stood for centuries. It is here where they would receive their noble charge from none-other than king Oswulf Pencot, sovereign of the land. Surely this would be a momentous day for…”

Oh, Richard?

“Mother, I’m in the middle of something here! Can it wait?”

Is that any way to speak to your mother? Come down here and finish your dinner, young man, or it’s the woodshed for you.

Sigh… “Coming, mother. I’ll be back later. I’m sure you can handle yourselves for a little while…”


“I’m coming! You’re on your own for now. Farewell!”

Standing in front of the massive iron gate, you would see a young man dressed in a royal red and white tunic, who was accompanied by a few royal guards. The man looked a little confused by the composition of the group that stood before him, but he seemed to wave it off rather quickly.

“Welcome, honored guests,” he said grandly. “I am prince Eric Pencot. We have awaited your arrival with great anticipation.”

Pings and such

@Ghid @DuneToa @wild_toa @MakutaOisli @TheMOCingbird @GoodGuy2006

If this seems a little… well, pathetic, I’ve been incredibly tired for the past week due to my one cat keeping me awake at night demanding that I get up and give him food. So, long story short, I’m tired and can’t write. But, this has been delayed enough already and I probably won’t get a good night’s rest for the foreseeable future, so I’m going to get it started now and hope for the best.

And, Ghid, one word about how long this took and you’ll be fired so hard you’ll be cleaning cinders out of your Akaku until the end of time, plus an additional three days…


I am going to die.

Usually his feet didn’t hurt this much from a simple walk, but Basil Tuffin was convinced his soreness was undoubtedly caused by his being horribly unsure of what was about to happen affecting the way he traversed. His initial joy upon reading the letter and finding out the KING wanted to see HIM for a mission which sounded an awful lot like an ADVENTURE, he was barely able to contain his joy. But the date of arrival was set far out into the future, and as time passed joy turned to passivity, and passivity to fear.

Was this a trap? Had the King been informed of the six times he had to spend the night in jail for peddling, and the four that he had escaped, making his soldiers look like absolute chumps? Had his repeated performances of tying dead animals to a stick- I mean, Magic, brought the law too close to his activities? No, of course not; there’s too many people here for it to be a sting operation against One person. Too many unsavory characters and weirdos. Besides, those type of folk are in very short supply - most people are normal, right?

But what if it’s a sting against ALL of us? He gripped his staff with both hands as tight as he could, nervously leaning into his hands as he did so. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone here was a criminal of some kind, and the King devised this plot to net us all in one fell swoop. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit.

Oh, be real! Basil straightened himself, puffing his chest out to appear brave. The King probably has no idea what’s happening with anyone and just wanted someone handy to run a couple errands under-the-table. It’ll be fine-

Basil shrunk back down on his staff.

I’m already dead.

Sussy ooc moment


btw I expect a raise for all the pillows I had to foot the replacements for


In the distance, the sound of wind careening off of metal, and the sound of heavy, deft footfalls, echoed across as a figure came into view. Clad in spiked armor, he slowly approached the gates. His name, Uro.
Ah, The Mighty Eric Pencot. His mind crackled, Hopefully, his deeds are better than his name… He cracked his knuckles. Uro was known for many things, his constant care for blades, always being prepared, his armor constantly being stained, and his unhealthy obsessive nature with finding an equal. When he first received the letter, he was consumed by the excitement, that this meant he could fight a worthy opponent, and the subtle amusement of the fact that if he had to return the letter, they’d finded just as drenched in blood as he was. But, as he traveled, a trendril of dread filled his mind, that perhaps the King, being as grey as he was, would just want them to find him a box of tissues, or his glasses. Which would be pathetic.
If it was a trap, he would enjoy the slaughter. But a menial task would not require a warrior. No one was as pitifully stupid to not understand that, right? If it was a rite of passage, it would be acceptable.
But it would all be suspicions and false claims until he reached the castle, and proved these thoughts right or wrong.

As more of the gates came into view, he saw a little creature, barely half his height, cowering behind what seemed to be an oversized stick, compared to its size. His emotionless helmet glared at the tiny one, as he towered over it.
“Little one.” Uro boomed. “Did you also receive a letter, instructing you to this fortre-”

He approached the Prince, looking down on him.
“What use could your sovereign have for a knight, such as myself?”
Uro asked inquisitively.


To one side of the group that had arrived at the gate, John Scaroni leaned on a walking stick, his face a mixture of appropriate respect for the son of the King, and excitement for the future.
Could they have it in their minds to hire my firm to redo some of the castle? Maybe even the whole building? I see that the gate, at least would need no modifications. Hmm, he thought, his eyes roaming over the massive stone structure rather than paying attention to what Prince Pencot was saying. As he looked, he thought he could see opportunities for at least one massive change to the facade: replacing a large coat of arms on the keep with a stained-glass replica.
It would add some visual interest, he thought. Bring some light and color to such a large building, and give the royalty some more… pizazz.


It did not seem physically possible for someone to squash down voluntarily to a height of just under six inches, but Basil was making his most dedicated attempt to in response to the inquiry from Uro.

I did not see him there before. Maybe, if I believe really hard, I can sink into the ground and disappear forever and ever.


Eric briefly eyed Uro over, keeping his expression neutral. It seemed a bit odd to him that a knight would allow his armor to stay in such a messy state, but that wasn’t any of his business.

“All in due time,” he replied patiently. “The king wishes to deliver your charge himself.”


Rupitydumble was quite confused. The king had called upon him specifically, the great Rupitydumble, had he not? Was that not what had been written in the king’s letter? What use was there for these others? Ah! But of course - they must be his bodyguard! After all, what was a great wizard without his entourage of a knight, two common-looking folks who simply must be his squires, a… troll… hmm, the treasurer, surely, a… a golem. Best not to question that one. And the final member of course being…

Why is there another wizard?

Wait… no, no, no, that’s no wizard - it’s a child! And looking closer, he saw that the child was in a rather poor shape, specifically in that he looked quite like a bat. He was quite certain that he was looking at a child, however. Though the reason why said child looked the way he did was a question that lingered on Rupitydumble’s mind. Perhaps magic? He had heard tales of dream-fulfillment potions (something that didn’t work, mind you) having adverse affects, namely turning people into that which they fear most. Could this be the root cause? Likely not.
Rupitydumble considered the thought further, however. Eventually, he realized he had been staring into the distance, and for quite a long time at that… He had been imagining what a futuristic world with dream-fulfilling drugs would look like, but he stopped himself midway through his story (just as the funny octopus man was saying something) to refocus on the matter at hand. Who were these other people? He must get to the bottom of the matter. He elected to start by speaking to the strangest of the group, the small child… thing. While some would think it more wise to speak to the prince, Rupitydumble very obviously would not agree with those people for his own strange reasons.
As was customary to do when speaking to someone, Rupitydumble walked over to the child. Once in front of the child, he revealed from his satchel a potato, which he offered to the child. After all, gifts tend to positively incline people towards you in most circumstances. A positive inclination would produce useful information. He would wait to see the child’s reaction before proceeding, to be sure his plan had worked.



Basil rotated around the stick in pancake position until the pink-garbed wizard was fully visible, towering over his compressed form. I was right about there being weirdos, at the minimum. Did he wash some white robes with red socks or something?

Basil’s glowing eyes stared blankly at the offering presented to him, the individual responsible not showing any sign for concern, simply presenting it as a gift. With significant hesitation, Basil extended a hand from his shrunken stature and gripped the potato, half-expecting it to blow up in his face.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

…Okay, the first time was a yam, but still.


Upon reaching the castle gates, Winston came to find there were in fact, already several people standing around, including one who seemed to have come from the castle itself. Waddling his way across the final distance to his destination, he comes to a stop just behind a set of ankles, finding they belonged to a short cloaked figure tightly gripping a staff and potato.

Reaching out to nudge Basil on the back of the leg with his cold, stone fist, Winston murmurs “Hey you there, shortie with a stick, fill me in on what I missed”


Yeah I definitley delayed my response to revive this RP a month in, totally…
I was going to write a response once a few people had sent things in but I ended up forgetting… sorry yall


Basil shivered from the cold of the stone, glancing at the small creature which had made contact with him, then to the void space between the two fellows he was with.

I’ve been surrounded.

“Uh,” He looked back at Winston, his art still outstretched towards Rupitydumble, potato in his grip. “I uh- p- potato.” He brought it down to present to Winston as evidence of the truthfulness of his statement.


Once the child took the potato, Rupitydumble took this as sign he was peaceful. Just as he was about to speak, a little rock walked over. Rupitydumble considered offering the rock a potato as well, but he didn’t think Mr. Stone would be able to make very good use of it. He elected to instead simply wave to the pebble boy.