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Lunaris has always been a frontier town. As the first settlement built upon the discovery of the Taen subdimension, it has seen its share of adversity. From normal threats like bandits, to a city-sized hydra bursting from beneath her streets, the city and its people fought hard to get to where they are now. This has bred a spirit of self reliance among the populace, and until now there has been little more than a token city guard to keep order. But recently it has been made clear that more is needed. A devastating string of crimes taking place over the span of a day has highlighted the need for a rapid response force, as well as a formal law enforcement apparatus. Enter the Lunarian Protectorate. For our very first official Law Enforcement agency, we need recruits! All positions listed in the lore page are available, but right now what we most need is a Sheriff! Applicants should be tough, independent, with a history of combat or police experience. Apply now! @supernal May I have a banner pls?

Araborn watched as the dead began to rise and charge towards them, he blocked out there words, these that charged them are not people, they are puppets he told himself, and so it's time to cut the strings, Araborn let out a wave of arcing energy that tore through the strings severing many then continuing and severing more, Araborn was frozen when the Star started to come down, it was all he could do not to crumple with fear, that's when he heard the voice, and the star launched blowing a hole in the mountain, as the explosion sent him to the ground he finally got control of his muscles and stood up as the pieces started to rain down, he took a deep breath and with a tell released a charge once again, but this was much more powerful, he waved his staff and bolts of lightning shot out arcing from Boulder to Boulder blasting them to smaller less dangerous pieces, he stumbled a bit and leaned heavily on his staff almost completely drained

The rapidly decreasing amount of life in the vicinity wasn't particularly concerning to Aya. She had smelled things that were more stomach churning than sensing death around her, and the place she grew up in was notoriously dangerous- to the point where walking around armed was encouraged. She had seen Scarab Sparrows swarming someone, Ruby Backed Gorillas rip men apart, a ship being completely destroyed by a sea monster with the only survivor shortly after being dragged to the depths. The only thing she thought of it was that Caeceila was going overboard, and needed to restrain herself. She didn't say it since the wyrman (Wyrm-Woman) was having a gay 'ol time in her slaughter spree, and Aya didn't want to find out whether or not she was in the midst of a blood-rage. Undoubtedly, it would be included in her report later, and any endangered species being killed would result in trouble for the Glassman family. If not trouble from the government, from certain pro-life organizations. Several of the others had commented on Aya's harsh judgement of herself. It was easy for them to say that she was useful. They all could fight, and Aya being able to heal was a safety net. If anyone other than Dauner knew she could also resurrect, the safety net would be even larger. "Thank you." Aya said while raising her cup of tea to her mouth. She took a sip and then said "But you should understand that my abilities aren't as simple as all of yours, no offense intended. I'm completely incapable of using magic. The power I wield isn't fueled by mana or any other form of energy produced by Valucre, and isn't useful for practical combat, interrogation, or disabling the Enrelle." she didn't sound sad at all. She let out a sigh "This staff is a religious artifact that connects me to the god I'm contracted with. It cannot be wielded by anyone else, and it being stolen would result in many unnecessary deaths- the blood of which falls on my hands. There are many stipulations associated with me being able to wield it and direct its power. One of those stipulations is that no part of my anatomy is to be removed, examined, altered, or tampered with by anyone- not even myself. The next is that my magic cannot work on certain individuals, of which the Enrelle are one. My earlier curse only worked because the Enrelle were separated from the Yuuja." a moment's pause was given before she then said "So, per the moment, my only practical use is healing and blessing. However, Mister Dauner has obtained an immunity to my blessings. He would need to personally request it from me, otherwise it would backfire." Aya knew that her explanation of her powers was extremely vague. She intentionally didn't specify why it was that the Enrelle had a resistance to her, why Dauner was immune unless he requested a blessing, or all the various clauses in her contract. She also didn't say what the staff being stolen and the death of potentially thousands had in common, nor would she specify them at the given time. Any questions for specificity would result in her saying "I am unable to answer that at the moment." and leaving the subject where it lay. During their bus ride to the border, Aya sat in the front of the bus for no particular reason. She felt uneasy, but couldn't tell why. She wasn't anxious about going to Doughton, and wasn't afraid of anyone around her. She wasn't worried that someone would try stealing her staff, and she wasn't concerned about anything relating to the mission at all... she was just... uneasy. Still, she remained stoic and showed no signs of feeling this way. When they got to the border, it was made known that the guards would have to search the boxes in the back. The driver tried to dissuade them, but it seemed to be going poorly. Aya got up from her seat and told the driver to open the door, letting her get out and come around to where the guards were. "Pardon me, Sir." she said in a soft, innocent, and very sweet tone with a smile that could give a healthy man diabetes. "My name is Aya, and I'm a priestess from the Shrine of Judgement. These are my identification papers." She reached into her left sleeve and pulled out a rolled up page that had a piece of cylindrical wood at the top to keep the paper from crumpling. "The items in the back are designated for providing aid to the city, but lose potency when exposed to sunlight. I understand you have an obligation to ensure the safety of any beyond this point, but opening those crates would result in me having to return home to acquire more, which would lengthen the amount of time this city and their guardsmen are without them." The guards looked at each other, then at Aya's documents that had a seal at the bottom from the guy in charge at the port, then at each other again. Not much was known about the Shrine of Judgement this far east, but the guards knew an official seal when they saw it. "Can you tell us exactly what the haul is?" one of them asked. "Disinfectant, sterilizing agents and healing solvents, Sir." Aya replied. The men both looked at each other again and handed Aya her identification back. "Alright. Have a nice day, ma'am." Aya bowed to them and said "The same to you both." before going back on the bus. The only reason it worked was because Aya used a logical argument, and appealed to the guardsmen's sense of urgency. The mentioning that some of the supplies were for injured guards reduced their desire to delay their aid, and Aya's natural cute charm, level tone, and innocent demeanor all aided in reducing their guard even further. In combat, Aya was mostly useless- in negotiation, she was the devil with a silver tongue. If anyone had accused Aya of lying, she would reply with "A saint is no more worthy to judge the sins of man than a noble is to judge the plight of the impoverished... But I did not lie. The Enrelle are an infection that Mister Argi is aiding to remove, I am a healer, and it is most difficult to be stealthy in broad daylight, especially when your hiding spot is revealed." At the entrance to the airship, a woman was waiting with arms crossed, sitting on a crate. Nigh perfect skin, straight, black hair, maroon eyes, a shrine maiden's garb- a one-to-one match for Aya's appearance. Myuil immediately flew away from Aya and over to her twin and landed on her lap. "Oh dear..." Aya said with a somewhat concerned expression. She approached her sister and asked "I trust you've been on your best behavior?" Her sister shot a glare at her and said "I trust you haven't gone and fucked yourself, yet?" despite the venomous words, her expression was just as neutral as Aya's. It was almost like that kind of thing was her standard greeting. "And what's with the rat pack? Can't sleep alone?" she was obviously referring to everyone in the group. "Don't tell me you went and charmed them all into-" "I do not use my power on the undeserving, no." "Humph. I would've. Well, the old hag-" *CRACK* Aya showed her absolute first display of violent intent and malice for the entire trip by whacking her sister on the head with the broad side of her staff. "I don't care how you address me, but you will not disrespect the Shrine Mother." Ira rubbed her head and looked at Aya with a sour expression and muttered "You're lucky my magic's sealed." to which Aya said "You're lucky I didn't remove it entirely when I sealed it. Now, why are you here, how did you arrive, and were you followed?" "The old-" Aya raised her staff for swatting number two and Ira paused "-The Shrine Mother..." Aya lowered her staff "...sent me to make sure you didn't draw too much attention to the shrine. I went through the main entrance with this, and I was followed but that guy's a frozen pile of ash, now." Aya took the false ID that Ira had, noting the name was 'Joanne Du' Arches' and looked extremely official. "Very well. You are not to leave my side." Aya turned to enter the ship with Ira following behind, and Myuil flying to lay on Aya's head. Ira's head was much too dangerous for him. By this point, it would be obvious that Ira was the Yin to Aya's yang, and the only thing so far that could make Aya irritated beyond her ability to hide it. It would also be evident that Ira wasn't the respectful type... or the gentle type... or all that approachable. Some time later, while Aya and Ira were in the mess getting some food, Aya was approached by someone who was slightly unsettling but far from alarming. She asked a peculiar question, inquiring as to whom Aya served. Aya said "I serve no one, and everyone." in a very calm tone. Ira immediately said "Yo, sis. I don't like this bitch. Lemme kill 'er." to which Aya said "You will do no such thing." almost immediately after. The being's attention had turned to Argi, which was just fine with Aya since she didn't have much business to do with her. She didn't like the energy it gave off, but her distaste for it wasn't so grand that it warranted sicking her destruction-happy twin sister on her. @danzilla3 @Dauner Light @Meraxa @The Alexandrian @Thotification @Vilhardt

hi! name's Garlic! This is really my first time on valucre but not my first time rping,, although I haven't rped in a long while so I'm rusty as hell! I like making up critters and taking badly timed naps. Nice to meet ya!

These weren't mere run of the mill heroes he had added to the vast tapestry of tortured souls he had grown accustomed to. A curious interference severing some of his tethers and causing animated corpses to lose their leashes. A whistle from their abhorrent master causing the rest of the tethers to be released; the undead becoming far less sedated and clawing their wretched fingers against the solid shields of their defenders. His influence over them broken and only adding to their collecting defense. The unfortunate soul however, used up a great deal of might in mitigating his master's work. The wave of terror this unleashed might brought upon was nearly as potent as his displays at Last Chance. He could feel the disguise wane and crack as eyes of putrescent orange broke through the surface of his face as he tasted upon the monk's terrified chasms of immeasurable sorrow. The cataclysm of mountainous rocks cratering the grounds around them as ally and foe were crushed alike. A shadow visage slashing behind the 'necromancer' and splitting a boulder in twain; each chunk hurtling into the grounds on either side of his stride as he made his way toward courageous prey who dared take his loyalty for desperation. The blur of movement behind him vanishing amidst the continuing hoards. Pillars of magma snaking forth and consuming his unholy horde in terrible ashen agony. The form Kru'Gorah had taken beginning to creak and groan as bone broke through skin; the terror he was breathing in as such destruction laid waste to the monastery. The bandit shaking off this wave of over-stimulation and raised his blackening hands; his disguise was failing because his body's natural response to it's food source. If all he had to do was keep any evidence of his faction out of this then perhaps he could put some of that cunning he had learned from Dredge to work. The blackening hands reducing to bony fingers that produced a terrible visage. The head of a billowing dracolich firing from the flesh sloughed hands of the bandit and careening into the dirt; it's snout plowing a cascade of corpses and dirt into the volatile snakes of magma. Vito' eyes catching the uprooting of ground scouring the earth next to the caster; an attack launching from their side flank as the ground gave way to something that split into one of their shields and reeled back with unnatural strength. An attack from multiple sides as the bandit focused upon the dracolich advance from the front. A squadron of bandits attempting to take advantage of this opening despite the danger of the magma; The dragon freezing the corpses and earth into a frigid mass that wrught massive pyres of steam. Kru'gorah knew that he would have to keep his physicality in check otherwise he would be made out and fail his god king, but they could not credit evidence of his involvement based solely on the work of...his tail could they? The tail a wide spaded masterpiece of destruction with metallic, chitounous material making it's guillotine edge a deadly adversary. The tail continuing to hide underneath the bed of blood soaked earth as it flung forward again and rammed into another proud shield. "It is easy to fight for those already dead; To protect those still alive brings true dread" He cackled with a strained voice of choking restraint, a weak body such as this beginning to crack at the seems against his corruption. The bandit snapping his leg bones back and swinging a heavy kick into the dracolich's skull and smashed it against the wall of ice it was creating; shattering the ice into a razor hail that created a concussive wave around the snakes themselves. "Am I not what you train for? An ultimate terror smashing upon your door? what are YOU WAITING FOR?" @Rabbit

As Leon began to go deeper into the village it was then that he noticed the black star. His eyes lifted toward the air, and his eyes locked onto the Black Hole sun. The Electic eye had already began to eclipse the city gave the horrid feeling of dead and emptiness. He suddenly stopped his eyes locked onto the eclipse his hand shaking violently. The Flames that suddenly shrouded the town, The screams of the villagers and the sense of dread. It all felt too familiar to the alien. The visions of his own past crossing his mind violent at almost a mile a minute. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fist as he attempted to gang some sense of his sanity. No he couldn’t let this get to him, not yet. This was nowhere near as catastrophic. Not personally anyway. Suddenly, an explosion. His was knocked out of his shellshock when the explosion hit, It was good that he finally took notice, as a chuck of debris from the mountain itself was closing into him. He had to react quick, he reached into the back of his back, and ripped out the guitar that was in it. It was safe to call it a guitar, in the strangest sense of the word. The body was clearly just an axe, which seemed to glow blue violently as the Guitarist swung it in a vertical slice. The whirling vibration that came from the blade of the guitar made slicing through the flying rock easy. Which luckily split in time for Leon himself to avoid it. It was then that he had enough, whoever was causing this had already split his nerves past the time. He had only managed to stay afront and see what was saw that a nearby mage. "Are you allright?" @Araborn Kirom

The trip to Dougton was mostly uneventful except for that fateful meeting right after they disposed of the yuuja but before they began the trip. Upon reaching dry land, Shishi and her sister had been visited by a pair of suspiciously questionable individual each of them riding a big black motorbike. They stopped before the two sisters and words were exchanged. "Fucking special delivery for miss goody two-shoes," spat the taller one of those individuals as she threw something silver and metalic at Shishi. "Good. Right on time," Shishi replied. Of course, did not miss the act and easily caught the thrown object. It was the key to one of the bikes as the taller individual was already dismounting it. Then the other suspicious person, the smaller one dismounted from her own bike and handed it to Shishi. After a series of grumbles and nods, the two suspicious individuals mounted on one bike and left the other one for the two sisters. As their figures retreated, the taller of the two suspicious individuals would turn back and flip Shishi off before finally leaving for good. Despite that rather absurd encounter, the two sisters would proceed to ride the solitary motorbike with the duffel bag in tow. The two sisters joined the group at the campsite but the older sister kept to herself as if satisfied with playing with her half-jelly, half-slime pet in the background. While Shishi was mostly concerned with her older sister's lack of social skills, she payed no heed to her sister's shape-shifting pet which seemed to be reenacting their previous battle with the yuuja but in a smaller media. Shishi chose to be the more sociable person this time and thus sat with the others while they ate, leaving the bike and the bag with her older sister. She did enjoy the meal but the current happenings around them made her lose her appetite. The small specks of animal life in their vicinity seemed to be dropping at a rather alarming rate, leaving the forest much quieter in the process. Soon, one might notice the severe absence of animal and critter sounds around the camp site.

Rozharon Paralios @EmpressOfficial • 2 hours Visited #Norkotia to finalize trading agreements (thanks @GrandExecutor!) Decided to try the local cuisine afterwards 🍔🥤 REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE plz note this tweet is not canon, not even soft canon lololol. though roz has definitely visited norkotia at some point to try out a burger.

𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 First name: Starts with a D... Surname: Starts with a T... Monicker(s): The Man in The Drains, Drainage man, Drainy, Drain Race/ species: Clump of moist hair possessed by a vengeful spirit Gender: Male. Age: Unknown but has been haunting drains for at least four years. Occupation: None. Alignment: Chaotic neutral 𝑨 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌 Appearance/ physiology: Drainy’s physical body is primarily comprised of wet matted hair held together into a roughly humanoid shape by that special gunk you find in shower drains, trace remains of blood, and ectoplasmic matter. On the front of what passes as his head is a pale, hole-ridden plate resembling a shower drain cover. This plate is made entirely of flexible ectoplasm and can be bent and squished as Drainy squeezes through narrow spaces. Every single hole of this plate serves as eyeholes, unblinking but twinkling with an odd vigor. Loose strands of hair fall over and cling to their face plate. The number of digits on his extremities vary but usually number at 2-3 for convenience. The thicker the strand, the easier it is to control. However, too many different appendages is, of course, confusing to consciously control for a ghost that can barely remember their own name. Through the hair, one may spot flashes of red - the dried blood of a dying man which forms the “heart” of this being. Typical Attire: Naked in the drains but will don a dirty oversized raincoat and black rain boots when traversing outside of the drainage system. 𝘼𝙨 𝘼 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 Personality: Although Drainy was born from a thirst for vengeance, he does not remember who (or what) caused his death aside from the fact that he died cursing powers above. All he recalls of his life are his initials (D.T), the fact that he was a dude, and vague recollections of various moments spent with faceless friends and family. As such, all the bitterness and hatred that holds together this spirit ends up being directed at ...anything. He is simply an angry little mess. Distrust and skepticism, especially towards religious organisations, dominates his disposition towards others. Drainy does not make friends. Doesn’t matter that maybe he might want a few… but he would never admit that! Never! Drainy believes in divine powers, gods and demons, and he will try to pick fights with them if possible. Not a wise choice, but then again he literally does not have a brain. When given something to be angry towards, reasonable or otherwise, he loses whatever common sense he has and tends to act brashly. That and his pettiness knows no bounds. When calm, however, he does appear to have some sense of strategy and often plans out his haunts beforehand. Despite his openness in expressing anger, Drainy has difficulty expressing other emotions. To show sadness or remorse is to show weakness, or so he believes. And thus Drainy bottles up all his emotions into a molotov cocktail of feelings that he throws when provoked. Of course, that's not exactly his kneejerk reaction to all other beings dead or alive. He has a soft spot for bugs and smaller critters. Likes: Dark, narrow spaces. Bugs. Piano music. Dislikes: Blinding light. Dry spaces. High temperatures. If you pee in the shower, he will personally strangle you to death. Abilities: Flexible and able to squeeze through tight spaces. Able to form additional prehensile appendages of hair. Already dead and thus cannot be killed, only exorcised. Can reform out of any wet clump of hair. Crawls and slides very fast. Weaknesses: Easily flustered by nudity (which sucks when one haunts bathroom drains). Weak kicks and punches. Clumsy feet. Stench can easily be detected from 2 metres away. Flammable. Overly rash at times History: — to be added — Current goal: To find who or what killed him as well as to fulfill whatever new grudges ends up holding along the way. 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 Equipment: A plastic knife and fury. A lead pipe, 1.2 metre in length, that he uses as both a weapon and a place to stuff himself into when needed Inventory: Indefinite number of cockroaches that live inside him. Chunks of mould.

Not trying to barge in on anyone, just want to say, intriguing convo here!

⍟⍟⍟⍟ Mission Status ~ AvailableMission Title ~ Defend the Witches CovenMission Location ~ Moss ForestMission Reward ~ Enchanted jewelry + witches familiar + Bonus ???Mission Requirements ~ 1 Page Minimum + 2 participants Description ~ A coven of witches can be found at the center of the Moss Forest, an isolated group who've practiced their art there for centuries. Unfortunately, in recent times they've come under heavy attacks. Its been discovered that their settlement is located above a rich mineral source, leading to back and forth fighting with outsiders for the land. Falling on hard times, they've requested outside assistance until they gather their bearings. Defend the coven for the requested 2 weeks. For a bonus reward, attempt to establish good relations. Mission Status ~ AvailableMission Title ~ Hunt and Kill the False HydraMission Location ~ Unnamed village, east of LunarisMission Reward ~ Gem encrusted gold statue + ???Mission Requirements ~ 8 Post MinimumDescription ~ A recon scout into a village which had fallen silent reported back, stating the village had fallen into a state of insanity. Scholars have researched into the matter, believing the village to have fallen under the control of a prior monitored false hydra. Use whatever means necessary to exterminate the creature. It is desired that minimum casualties occur, but will not result in any penalty. Research into false hydras is highly advised.

Pyrrah was a unique breed of hound girl. Her dark skin, fierce eyes, and wild hair, all uncommon, especially as far into the lands she hailed from. Pyrrahs story was simple. She was at some point taken into captivity. In this phase of her life, she was eventually sold, or if she was being honest she was stolen, considering the poor bastard never got his coin. An undisclosed round later, as there was little if any paper trail on her ave for the records Celine had. She ended up in the care of one tycoon who if asked what he did for a living, it would be easier to ask what he didn't do. As this woman she'd come to know just now was named 'Suh leen' sat down. Her ears were kept low, a sign of submission among canines. Pyrrah had little to her name save for the iron top that held her large breasts up, and a matching piece of armor just below it. In addition, there were shackles around her writs and ankles. As she sat in the car then entire back in dipped as if a man 3 times her size sat. She did also have a brown shawl on for decency. Pyrrah had strictly been kept 'untouched' for the sole purpose of reselling. As it went, something in good condition only appreciated. The last freedom afforded to her was that she kept her name long ago. As the woman spoke. Pyrrah looked over briefly, the words were not uncommon. She wanted so bad to exclaim that she was a proud hound from places this human would die. But instead of doing so she nodded silently before muttering a single "U-understood ma'am". She silently mouthed the words upon arrival. 'fah tall see duck shun'. Pyrrah unfortunately never learned to read very well. Hardly at a childs level if one was honest. But, a guard dog, a dancer, a stripper, a pet, or just a warm body for relief... none of those required you to do anything with reading. Only use her body in various ways. As the pulled up, she'd look up at the clubs doors from the car. Her collar and leash taken by one of the womans apparent employees. She was led inside, and quietly behaved. A bouncer would come out, quickly greet them with that businessmans smile. Of course, Pyrrah quickly followed after. The employee left her leash in the hands of one of Rykers men, as this was not his business, it was for Celine, Ryker, and anyone Ryker wanted involved. The hound had a bad feeling. She didn't sit, she'd been taught it was rude to sit without being offered and even then... she didn't know Celine or how she would feel about that. @Witches Brew @Better Than Gore @Tenkai Matsumoto

Slowly becoming wary this is how the thread is gonna end:

@Michael Bloodfang I would like to point out that it’s a no-rules RP, so the villains are allowed to be OP too. It doesn’t only have to be PCs that are OP. But although allowed is the word, we’re embarking on a shared narrative. I can see where you’re coming from, and why you’d feel like your actions didn’t do anything.. But I would suggest that you keep an open mind, accept the other players’ actions and look for more possibilities to play around in the story - like a creative writing exercise. And I would like to remind that you are also allowed to control Henry, or any of the NPCs. We haven’t had any issues till now, and I would hate to see this fun RP be locked into unnecessary conflict. It’s good that we know your sentiments now @Michael Bloodfang, and we kinda sorta know @zackrobbman‘s ideas. Would like to remind everyone that since it’s a shared narrative, the story direction will keep changing, please don’t be upset if you have to adapt your plans to the ongoing narrative. If you find that it’s not something you like, then this RP may not be for you. That’s not to say that you’re bad or anything, it’s just that this may not be your cup of tea. There are plenty of other areas on Val where there are more structured/planned out stories, and this thread is a break from that. Also, light-hearted! If everyone is on the same understanding to that, then onwards we forgeeeeeee!

For roleplaying in a general sense, anti-magic does not tend to be dramatically interesting because it falls into the "no u" category of powers. We should be following improv rules and saying "yes, and" instead of "no u" whenever possible. For fantasy terminology, anti-magic is lame in a funny way. It's like calling an insulator anti-electricity. No dude, that's rubber. For roleplaying in the world of Valucre, it's like spending hours of your life to watch MCU films and not see superpowers, except you're spending months of your life to not have fun playing your super wizard. Embrace being a snowflake. For the lore of Valucre, if you follow the laws of magic, then magic happens. Genii loci > someone saying "no u."

I like to draw! I also used to like making/designing costumes, but it got expensive and I’ve lost a lot of motivation to upkeep my hobbies over the last year.

"FIRE!" Another volley tor the barbarians to shreds, tho more still came. Their axes and swords crashed against his platoons shields walls, the crash echoed throughout the alleyways. Rear spears skewered the enemy, their bodies dropping onto the cold cobbled floor. A second wave charged, approaching in their usual screaming frenzy. Vito slammed his sword-staff on the ground, summoning a barrier of rock spikes similar to a cheval de frise around the building. More bodies were impaled, but offered little to deter the enemy as they climbed over his stone spikes. "YOU AND YOU, HEAD BACK AND CALL REINFORCEMENTS!" The two kraul simply nod, immediately flying off into the distance. Vito turned back, swinging his weapon to summon a wave of fire. The enemies were engulfed in flames, screaming in pain and joining their comrades dead on the ground. The near vicinity went quiet, tho distant screams and cries continued. "Report on the injured." Vito turned to the building entrance, surprising the kobold medic taking a break. "We're about halfway through, are more coming?" The kobold's breathing was deep, heavy and tired. Struggling to get his words out. "I don't know, but keep up the good work. If more refugees come, we'll deal have to do our best." He turned back, looking out at the tiny battlefield before him. A small field of corpses laid about, some civilians killed by the raiders. But it was nothing new, just another day in the life of the little settlement leader. Vito flung another wave of fire, charring all of corpses. The group suddenly noticed a flash of light sitting above the town, many turning their focus away to shield their eyes. A star of unknown origin sat above, giving off a bad omen. But the raider could leave that mess to his friend, Vito's job for now was to keep morals high. "LET THIS BE A LESSON TO OUR ENEMIES! THIS IS THEIR FATE! THEIR LIVES WILL MEET A PAINFUL END!" The group roared, morals still high. For now... Iohmar chuckled as the wraiths screeched in pain, music to his ears. The small group of heroes had formed a mighty power, together turning the tides of the war. "I am clearly not a rabbit, foolish wraiths!" The tabaxi only then out the corner of his eye noticed the small star forming above, turning back to see the wraiths retreating. Despite his years of practice into the arts of dark magic, he'd never seen such a thing. He quickly summoned a shadow shield above him, giving himself cover from the aerial bombardment. Starring through the shield, he just simply could't focus his attention off of the star. Almost as if it were calling him in, tempting him.

Temptation.... Rising.....

⍟⍟⍟⍟⍟ Mission Status ~ AvailableMission Title ~ Stop the Beholders FightingMission Location ~ The WetlandsMission Reward ~ Enchanted uru weapon of choice + vakar armor piece of choice + enchanted cloth + chest of gems Mission Requirements ~ 20 Post Minimum + 3 ParticipantsDescription ~ For 3 days tremors had been recorded within The Wetlands, screams of pain sounding like that of banshees and rumors of bursting lights. No one knew what was going on, until recently. A main showed up at Kuiperal beaten, bruises and claiming to be the escaped slave of a crazed giant eye . His cries shined light upon the issue. It is now known that two beholders had built their dungeons next to one anothers and during expansion had made contact, resulting in territorial conflict. Their battle continues to cause devastating tremors, take up arms and stop them before it gets worse!

I am enjoying reading this thread so far. Keep it up folks. With this Enrele thing gaining traction, I wonder if she should have some central area where we can link to all of the threads pertaining to the Enrele threat that has a list sorted chronologically so we can see all of the wonderful effort that has gone in to building this thing. 👀

Summary: Seeking to clear her property of hostile fauna, Halisera Dali requests the services of the Naho Raiders. A witch named Enid approaches Halisera and volunteers her aid in the process, believing the matriarch will help her find the object of her divinations. Together, with the help of Captain Elliot Kessler, they venture into the Dali caves to dispatch the Brumak nesting in its depths. A furious battle ensues, quick but not without peril, and the trio manage to drive away the Brumak after sufficiently wounding it. With the job completed, the group decides to return to the surface. Halisera grants Enid further access to the tunnels for future investigation. Opportunities and Consequences [C] - Driving away the brumak clears enough space for House Dali to begin mining operations [C] - Collecting brumak shells will make more armor available to the Raiders; Halisera takes enough for a shield [C] - Collecting spilled brumak blood Enid will work with Dali to create a monster repellent [O] - The caves are open to sanctioned exploration deeper in the network (aka Dali occupies it and randoms can't just stroll around) @Csl @supernal @Gil

lol I'm playing final fantasy 14 so I totally get this, but tbf this thread had not been designed around having 'tanks' and 'healers'. If it was so I would have set a requirement on the number of people who would take either role. It's more of individually and ability-wise, what skillsets your characters would have, allowing a degree of customization (coming out from the first thread where everyone is homogeneous).

CENTAURS Dan's centaurs were less than happy. One couldnt see out of one of his eyes, the other had a friend that couldnt see out of one of his eyes. So, they decided to shoot the flying boy out of the air. @Akiris Ed's centaurs were considerably less happy than Dans. And everyone else's, really. Thankfully, the dragon in question had no appetite for eating things that were non-bipedal and so, he flicked his head, and chucked the centaurs across the arena. The Furies followed, but stopped themselves in the air. @P.N.See Vlad Dracula's centaur was understandably upset by him casually swatting one of the duo aside like he was nothing, and decided that maybe this person should not be alive anymore. And so, like any decent person, he decided to rid the world of Vlad. Or, at the very least, hurt him very badly. He galloped toward him, holding his spear out like a lance, preparing to skewer him. @Dolor Aeternum Same vampire species, different name, the centaur still alive fighting Soryn Markov was equally upset. At Soryn, of course, but also at Megaera for muscling in on his fight. Though this was quickly remedied. So, he lined up a shot, took careful aim, and fired. @Tyler The centaurs, having been successful in their endeavor to exterminate the Narkotian Brigade that has another name with infinite 'a's, then converged onto Jack, who was the nearest to them. Conveniently, he already dealt with his two centaurs, so now he has two more. Joy. They both fired twice rapidly, aiming to severely injure Jack. @Fierach Due to Sheryl's broken nonsense, four centaurs were wounded. The two focused on her found that being wounded wasn't fun, so they decided to make this as quick as possible for her. They both aimed, and fired two shots in rapid succession. @EpicRome23 Ilene, though having defeated one of the centaurs, was not finished yet. She had the second to deal with, and was not very happy with her. Maybe the adventurers would notice a pattern here. The centaur aimed carefully, and fired on her, intent on killing her outright if he could. The ones fighting Surus were equally irritated. They lived for hunting large, stupid animals. Why was this one being such a pain? One got up from being knocked down. The other got up, aimed carefully, and fired. Charlie's Centaurs started to go and attack someone, but for some reason they couldnt decide on who to attack. So they spend the turn deliberating. The Furies Megaera and Alecto were flung from the Dragon's mouth, and stopped in the air. The both glared at Ed with the most malicious hatred many of the crowd had ever seen. Alecto flew at Ed, screeching with an ear-shattering pitch, with speed close to Dan's, and extended her hand. Alecto gripped Ed by the throat, and carried him into the air, almost 30 feet in the air. She point blank shrieked at him, wearing at his sanity if he could not resist her influence. After which, she would toss Ed into the air, and flip in the air, building up force, and axe-kicking him in the gut, and sending him careening back down. Megaera simply waited her turn. Though, not happily. Why the hell did Alecto get first dibs? But, after the attack, success or fail, Megaera did the same. She flew at Ed, hand outstretched. Tisiphone, pleased with Charlie's demise looked for a new victim. She decided on Vlad. She flew to him at great speed, and attacked, coming in close to latch her fangs into his neck. Good Gods the irony. Alvumaar The dragon did NOT like being force fed. It hurled the contents out of its mouth, not particularly caring one way or another about what happened to them. He looked at the combatants, to see who looked the most appetizing. One was really short. Not much more than a light hors d'oeurve. One, was a barefooted flying boy. He seemed interesting, but looking closer, Alvumaar found that he was quite skinny. Not an incredible amount of meat, and even less fat for flavor. Then he saw someone. Someone with a shotgun. THAT one would be who he chose. Alvumaar raised his massive hand, and brought it down on Vlad.

Yes! The final round! Commence fictional child abuse! Time to slap some naughty kids...

The longer he persisted himself to gander Martis felt inclined to believe this bloody place was uninhabited by earthly beings. In fact with the Chthonic energy he could feel the night creatures of the region scrutinize him, recognizing his half tainted vampiric blood and fearing it. The spruce varon scanned the vicinity from behind the cover of an overgrown pine throughout the lushness of what seemed nearly a hundred trees in a twenty foot radius. Only the peaking rays of the moon find itself exposing the backside of his blue tailcoat and his golden cascading hair. He was wronged. Splitting the airy silence of night was a woman's voice, a natural heir for leadership as she questioned the noble Keeper. The mysteriousness from the forest no longer felt foreboding in it's brokenness. Cervantes had been discovered conviently on his own lack in this moment of time, the predator became the prey or was it vice-versa? Bat-like sonar felt almost everything in his radius scanning as far vision permitted him the details around from what little to no light couldn't provide. However, he seemed to have missed the scent of blood blossoming into the air shortly after his shadow-step. Chasing the sound of the voice almost concomitantly, the spirit of the woman erected from her conjuration. The glimmering man seemed compelled to this calling, some eerie coldness that crawled human men spines however, this particular authority felt to be no threat persay. Not to a Dhampir. "I am. Martis Cervantes, may you call me. " He spoke, so eloquently and confident. Beyond the mortal intelligence of man and in his own sense of pride. It was then staring into the ghostly image of her sage tresses and carmine changing eyes, he found himself listening far more than intended, coming to grips he truly had just begun his journey. In between her breaths he went following in his slight not so perfected Spanish-English accent. "Then it is for you, I've traveled from the Glen in search of. Four witches? A banshee spirit" As she bled her words further for the need of his help, fruition struck. She was the beacon. Now in front of him she was, resting against the very base of the tree he sought coverage behind his golden eyes conspired with her own, his angular expressions denoting an agreement words no needed to openly express. The supernatural stared further into her plume eyes, their need of urgency and his existence there with her was nonetheless reassuring. He was not a Pureblood as he served his master, but surely there was something the Keeper could do in his mind control and art of suggestion. "I am glad, the hiding and seek is now over. Don’t worry, I do intend on giving you my full aid from hereoin, Luna. Representing in the behalf of the Choisel vampires." As she shifted her direction speaking on reward he nudged himself from the tree and began to follow slowly in step and into the darker bowels of the forest. Pointing in the way of the West beyond what his eyes could see, soaking as much information into his memory storing it as it was received. Finding an inscription was next if he'd wish to seek any more clues on discovering the Sisters whereabouts, or atleast he assumed it to be the way. One step closer he felt more obligated than ever to seeing this through.

OOC Music [Recurring] CRACK! “NOOO MY STICK OF TRUTH!” She screamed in horror like in one of those horror films where the murder-man kills the girl’s boyfriend in front of her eyes by gouging his eyes out with a toothpick before cutting his head off with a toothbrush. Well, the gooze had done something not entirely too dissimilar when it grabbed a hold of her own half of a toothpick and broke it in half so that it became a quarter of a toothpick and toothpick. “WHYYYYYYYYY” She received no answer, not from the gooze or the Fates or the two men who were too busy dancing in the air or waddling on the ground to worry about her stick of truth. One of them, for sure, had even since stolen her sword, so that kind of said something about the kind of people that she kept company with and weren’t no mistake. Of which, that man was no longer airborne but had decided to go for a swim, and her observer could only ogle in horror as she spotted her sword float and sink like in one of those Doby-Mick films about the oversized dolphin and the harpoon that pierced its belly and brought Doby-Mick into the water all wiggly-wiggly. Still my chap a silver ticket of a film if ever I saw one old boy I do so say OH MY GOSH She couldn’t complete the thought, a thousand walnuts of worries plaguing her brain as the gooctopus’ tentacle sprang forth toward the sick man to slap some sense into his sluggish form. Well, it might have done him some good, alongside some much needed oatmeal to settle his stomach, but the dismay lay in the gooze’s own gooey brain as it received the sensations of acid eating away at its...gooze? The woman clapped her hands in glee. She didn’t know these pools, hadn’t bathed in them, didn’t see a lifeguard, packed no bikini, but it was evident that where that tentacle had splashed it had in turn splattered itself with the kind of liquid that would make a perfect prop for a horror movie. The sick man, meanwhile, appeared to be loading his crossbow with these-and-those and things in between. Suddenly, it all clicked! just like her stick of truth had cracked! That man was coating his bolts in the acid. The other man was...swimming or something but otherwise doing something useful. The crossbowman was on the other side from where the woman was standing, still a prime target for the gooctopus, and there that woman was, without sword and without stick. So, she resolved to do the only thing that she knew to do in this situation. Her phallic counterparts seemed to have more knowledge about their enemy and their environment than she did, and both of them were armed with crossbow and stolen sword where all she had was a makeshift lamp slung over her shoulder. Aghhhhh gaga-pa-dooda-gup “FUGGABUH!” She exclaimed toward the gooze. If it had ears then “had” was the keyword because clearly they had long since melted away. So, she tightened one boot and pulled a knife from the other, brandishing its twinkling point toward the gooze. “YOU’RE JUST A BIG FAT GOOZER-MOOZER WITH SLUDGE FOR BRAINS AND I WANT A REFUND!” With that, the woman dashed toward the very edge of the pool and lunged. A blindly flailing tentacle was moved away just in time. She stabbed again. Another miss. KAI-AY-PA! This sucked. Stabby-stabby-stabby— “FUMOFFU!” She sliced the air and a tentacle swinging within it. The gooctopus shuddered. At last, its attacker had attention, for however long it might last. It shifted through its gooey water, shooting a tentacle for her face. She dodged. Another for her leg. She skipped. The third punched her stomach and she “Oof!”d before falling backwards. All in all, though, the distraction might have been all the time that the crossbowman would need to load his weapon of acidic destruction and for his best friend to do...whatever he was doing all this time. As for the woman, well, she was beginning to regret the squid that she had for elevenses. Fumoffu...

Let's see... Mother's HP is 6, 1 dmg goes from Challara, 2 dmg from Barristan, 3 dmg from Mistress... Ladies and gentlemen... We got her.

Jaw Finder sat at the table, over hearing the soft bodies talk back and forth about nothing important, at least as far as Jaw Finder was concerned. This amount of thinking and noise making about something that is so simple otherwise wouldn't go anywhere except for these nests and colonies that soft bodies build where everything grinds to a halt from constant pointlessness. eventually food came, alongside some that came for the green chested soft body. Jaw Finder knew that soft bodies heated things to make food soft like they are, which was just sad, but gave unique scents to taste. Jaw Finder's tongue was taking the opportunity to taste the smells of the breakfast, extended and hovering over the food and then quickly wrapping around the trout. The whole fish then shot into Jaw Finder's mouth and was tasted and eaten in a matter of seconds. The rest of the meal did not fare better as Jaw Finder pretty much inhaled each and every part of the meal as the soft bodies around them went on about semantics. How ever, despite how quickly jaw Finder was eating, there was remarkably little mess as things were just going quickly from table to mouth. "soft bodies following of 'ideals' unnecessary burden. action with instinct and survival yields greater efficiency. unlike Soft bodies, I does not need to be given 'ideals' only understanding of the identification of 'evils'" Jaw Finder snatched a fly out of the air with their tongue.

Relevant!

HELLO GARLIC =D Garlic is an old friend of mine. She's also a great artist and is fantastic with designing lovely creatures. Be nice and say hi!

Flying straight towards the Yuuja's chest, Dauner loaded his magic into his right sword causing statics to build up around his right hand the sword it held. When he was close enough to the Yuuja, he thrust his sword at the beast yelling, "Demon magnum". The tip of his sword hit the Yuuja's chest causing a blast as the force caused some extra damage to it's chest breaking off the piece of it's skin that had been hit. The Yuuja's body eventually bent backwards as it attempted to return into the deep. Argi fell into its mouth finding his way down into its stomach. Dauner then landed on the water as he kept his speed up until he reached the ground. Gozen followed him back to shore. Not too long after the Yuuja had gone deep, Dauner noticed its aura disappear. "Seems like it's dead now" he said to himself. Argi came swimming onto the ground shortly after that. There was a strange bird that seemed to have come with Argi and just like a few creatures that roamed Valucre, this one was strange. It could speak human language. Dauner walked towards it as it conversed with Argi, only managing to hear the final words they exchanged before the bird flew off. The bird later return with the others right behind it and arriving one at a time. Finally it seemed like it was time to set out for Dougton on their adventure to take down the enrele hivemind, Aleth. After Paul was done talking, Dauner clenched his fist in front of him with a grin on his face. "Ok. Let's go beat the enrals" he said raising his arm with his fist still clenched. "This is gonna be fun!"

Welcome to Valucre! The New Member's Guide should help with the confusion, but if you have any other questions you can pop into the Outreach AMA (as the title says you can ask them anything) or shoot questions in the chatbox, since the community in general is pretty helpful. What kind of rp/genres do you like?

Oooh I see. My character isn't interested in joining anything cause she's a rebel that hates authority in general and is pretty much a super soldier that hates everything and keeps doing bad stuff. (If you count bad stuff such as stealing and maybe punching a baby and stealing their candy.) Basically, she's a rogue super soldier who may become a problem eventually. She doesn't exactly obey people as such, last time she did, she disobeyed them anyhow. *COUGH* Tia *COUGH*

Hell, Aveline has combat experience; she's even a combat sniper with a necklace of many HOG's teeth (a certain type of sniper trophy). If anything, she would want the VCF to oppose her SOS in chalk-round force-on-force exercises.

I'll win this time. Exodia... OBLITERATE!!!!

I can't draw btw so I pay people to draw for me. Got two done in the past month or so. Renji, Arashi's dad. And cause I'm a big My hero academia fan.... Renji as Endeavor and Arashi as All Might. I should really post that Arashi ref but it isn't finished yet.

I'll still be active, presuming I don't get killed in the finisher round somehow.

I think this a good moment to point out that not all these encounters need to be friendly. I’m more than comfortable with a few fights as long as they don’t end up falling into competitive pvp. That sort of thing just isn’t my jam.

At this point Ed could only come to the conclusion that at least two of the furies were hopelessly retarded. Overly critical? Nah. You really have to fuck up if you get ambushed by a goddamn elephant. Or, decide to wait your turn when the one who is supposed to be suppressing your soon to be victim gets ambushed by the goddamn elephant. Surus on the other hand, is a very good boy. Ed tossed Meg Griffin by her shadow onto the awareness challenged Alecto in a vicious downsmash and then would keep it up with the end goal of literally murdering the two on the ground without allowing them to rise. It may have been a bit late to turn things around, but Ed would be damned if he was going to go out quietly like THE ASSHOLES WHO PUT THEM IN THIS SITUATION BY GIVING UP. Spiking his magic, Ed prepared to pull off one last doozy of a trick. Hopefully he wouldn't regret not having it later, but he regretted not being able to save the one person that went down actually fighting now. It would be a near thing, as should his physical condition drop any lower he doubted he'd have the spare focus left over to also suppress the furies. "Thanks." Ed meant it. The furies were as strong as they were stupid. Unfortunately, they were very stupid and he honestly didn't like his odds in a head to head slugfest without some sort of edge to lever the scales. Thanks to the Shadow Guard and Surus, Ed was given the opportunity to turn what should have been a frantic series of hopeful evasions into a definitive retaliation.

"Am I bad for being careful?" Reis glanced at Tana irritably. He was still expecting an attack, though there wasn't anything he could've done about it if she'd tossed a knife right then and there. The fact that she hadn't seemed like a good enough way to say that she didn't require him dead - yet, at least. He limped a little closer, leaning down to pick up what looked like a gold tooth. It was disgusting, holding something that had been in the mouth of someone else, but Reis had gloves. That, and the kobold side of him didn't exactly care where it had been. It was shiny, and that was enough. He wiped the thing free of dirt, and slipped it into his pocket, looking embarrassed. "I just don't want to die. I like being prepared for everything. If we'd been prepared, we wouldn't be nursing wounds, now would we?" Khada watched the other thief as she rooted around the warehouse, looking for something worth stealing. Apparently, there'd been nothing, judging by her lack of shiny items when she returned. That was a bummer. There were definitely more buildings elsewhere in the city that likely had other valuable things, but nothing especially close, it would seem. Khada sighed in defeat, prepared to turn and leave the building. He needed to go, and there was no telling if there would be more goons running along shortly. He paused when he heard Tana's offer, though. "Um. Fine, I guess." He left the bit where he warned her not to attack him unspoken. That would likely make her annoyed, and more likely to attack him. Part of Khada wondered why he'd agreed to stay. He was hurt, and she was dangerous. Everything here was dangerous. Still, he wasn't about to leave this place empty-handed. Not to mention, Tana still reminded him of his sister a little bit. It was refreshing to be with someone as deadly and sarcastic as her. No one was on the same level as his sis, though. The kobold limped past Tana, looking here and there for any crates they might have missed. The ones that weren't decimated, of course. "Perhaps we should try another building?" Reis suggested. "If they kept relics anywhere, I don't think they'd be in a warehouse. They'd likely be on display somewhere. It's a long shot, but there still might be some old artifacts left around their main buildings. It can't be completely empty.

What!? I have a patent on that! Where's my lawyer!? I think it varies greatly on universe too. For example, one can view science as explained phenomena and magic as unexplained phenomena (a pretty common interpretation). I tend to think of Science as working within the laws of the universe (even if they seemingly subvert reality, it would be somehow done using methods and materials from within reality), whereas magic is a complete defiance of reality or simply is outside of reality. But practically-speaking, they really just aesthetic in practice when it comes to fiction. The Thor movies tried to bullshit that they were "science" early-on, but by the later movies they were just like "aw fuck it" and gave up and just stopped trying to pretend. Much of the powers in movies like Thor Ragnarok simply have no scientific explanation because they stopped caring about that, and it was just "space magic" again. lol But yeah, this! Honestly, having a system is in and of itself the best way to avoid "OPness", really, since a system will have rules and limitations. It's why I love how Star Wars (classic Star Wars, not the Disney bullshit) had it that you had to train for years to be able to use the Force, and even then, most Jedi and Sith were still vulnerable to some extend. And because force-sensitivity was so rare and because it took so much to train in it, powerful forceusers were limited to maybe a few thousand in a galaxy of billions/trillions of people.

"Free me." The mental command rang as clear as a bell in Ankou's mind; the words nearly stopping his heart. Lilith hadn't sounded distressed, but he knew her. For her to openly request help, even in the form of a demand, meant she was in a desperate situation. The thought caused a new kind of fear to well up within him. A helplessness that he had not felt since he was a small child, unable to save himself or anyone else. "No more." Tapping into the power of the Mind Stone, he effortlessly pinpointed his leaders mental signal. Willing open a portal, he appeared at the entrance to a cave; the entrance filled with rubble. His mind raced at how to get through before he finally settled on an idea. Drawing deeper on his Aura of Death than he had since the fight with the Peacekeepers, he also used Mori to channel energy from the Abyssal plane before unleashing a pulse of necromantic energy into the cave. Stone may not be alive, but all things decay eventually. The rubble filling the cave began to erode, turning to dust as it was bathed in his Aura. Soon the collapsed passage was once again clear. The stone had been worn away in a great circle throughout the cavern. To those who could see him, Ankou would have appeared like a specter of death. As the aura dissipated, and Ankou began to revert to his normal form, he began to explore the cave. Lilith was resilient enough that she shouldn't have been too badly affected by his display of power. "Lilith?"

We are this canonized!

Whichever would work better for your narrative. In the original post, she was only asking for people from Hell's Gate, but we could easily swing it so she also asked Emile to assist at the end of their escapades in Dougton.

I'm brand new, and willing to talk over Discord. Heckapupper#0261

I haven't been keeping pace per say but notice how much care you're giving to Ventrix and hey that's shout out worthy Whoo high five!

Reminder just as we head into the weekend @Die Shize

Alright, so a few more bits of timeskipping that can of course be narrated for your own purposes - especially the standoff at the checkpoint, which you guys are free to resolve however you want - to get to the juicy bits: Negotiating with a being that claims to be a goddess. @Vilhardt @Priestess @Thotification @The Alexandrian @Dauner Light @danzilla3 @Rabbit too if you want since this is on your ship

The day after the Dougton raid, regardless of the outcome. I do not believe Caeceila will be captured/killed in that thread due to her mastery of the ultimate technique, and I suspect the same is true of most, if not all, of the characters involved.

OOC Music The Iron Wolf Black holes where eyes should have been gazed out from a steel skull, two slits of darkness above a snout forever sealed, beneath pointed ears that never heard a beat. The helmet was a poor imitation of the real thing, truth be told, where what was real was bone and flesh and fur that breathed with life in a forest that teemed with it, but the symbolism was not lost on the beholder. Hands warmed by beating blood held the cold metal between them, and above them were amber eyes that gazed with longing to see. Man and wolf stared each other down, two heads that could become one in a moment, with one movement of slipping helmet around hair, but that moment was not to be. Not now. Not yet. For now, it was all Vadrian Dawnwood could do to see his soul reflected right back at him from the darkness of two holes where eyes should have been. The Wolfshelm was as much a helmet as it was an heirloom, carried through the generations of House Dawnwood, worn by the Iron Wolf, who today was the very man that cradled the helm in his lap at the edge of his bed. He had worn it a number of times before, gazing at himself in the mirror, trying to figure out if it were man or beast gazing back at him. He had worn it for ceremony, greeting the peoples of Tryhold as their patron animal that went far beyond mere motif. He had worn it for combat, leading the forces of House Dawnwood into battle against those of House Cardell. He would not wear it today, but it might yet still wear him. The Wolfshelm had been a gift from the Wolves of Wolfwood Forest all those years ago. The Goran had settled within the trees, those who walked on two legs to keep the four legs in check, and then came the men of the realm, House Talus, to threaten both Wolf and Goran. The Wolves could not leave their forest, their place there was too paramount, too important, and the Goran were not yet ready to venture much farther from the wood they watched. All too fitting, then, that the Knights of the Dawn had decided to defend the forest and its people from those bent on conquest. The Goran’s leader and the leader of the Dawn Knights met on the battlefield for the first time, yet it was not their blades that joined but their hearts. Myra Wood was her name, chief of the Goran and Warden of Wolfwood. Ser Lanias Dawn, Grand Master of the Order of the Dawn and Baronet of the Dawn's Keep, was his, but he thereby left his hold and settled in the lands that adjoined with Wolfwood Forest, and he and his people became the Dawnmen. Through the marriage of Myra and Lanias, the Goran and the Dawnmen formed a union, the new House Dawnwood was conceived, the seat of Dawnwatch built and the lands of Tryhold established. And all had lasted up to this day. As he sat there staring at empty sockets, Vadrian cracked a smile, recalling those words like his father had spoken them yesterday. The son had learned much of what he knew from the stories of the father, ones that were never just stories. As the Blade of the Dawn, Vadrian wielded Daybreak, the ancestral longsword of the Knights of the Dawn. Yet, he also held Wolfshelm, the ancestral helmet of House Dawnwood. With this helm in his hands, the Dawnwoods carried the spirit of the Wolves wherever they went, and when a Dawnwood wore this helm he became the wolf. The Iron Wolf. He had to be more than that, he knew. He also had to be the Earl of Tryhold, the Lord of Dawnwatch and the Seigneur of House Dawnwood. He had to serve as a regent of Orisia, the Island of Summer, with all the strength and honor that flowed through the veins of a Dawn Knight—or else his titles and names would mean little and less. With a deep sigh that settled some nerves, Vadrian let the reminiscing lead his mind to the mission. From the Feast of Blades, his father might recall the Blade of the Dawn soon enough, one would hope, and the Iron Wolf would in turn be brought to mind by consequence. Would it be enough? I know who I am, Father. Do you? Do you remember your position? Do you remember yorur people? Do you remember your place? Do you remember Orisia? Do you remember your words? ‘A New Dawn Rises’. So where have you fallen, Fendrin Dawnwood? The steel helmet in his hands was as still as stone as Vadrian shook his own head, remembering the last words that his father had given him: “The people of this island are bred and built for summer, for warmth and sun, for swimming in the lakes and toiling in the fields, as you were bred and built to be my son. But a father must take his leave like the leaves from the tree that holds them, and though this island and its people may know their summer like the sons they seeded, little do they know that soon the sun will set, that dawn will turn to dusk, and winter is coming.” The curtain rippled against the wind just then, a chill creeping in from the outside, sweeping over Vadrian’s shirtless body as he searched Wolfshelm for an answer. After the wind blows and the rain falls and the sky crackles, the dawn cracks and the sun rises, and what was once so dark a night becomes a new day as bright as a fire fed by wood. Vadrian rose from his bed, set the helmet upon the stand that held the rest of his armor, and paced over to the window, drawing the drapes. The day greeted him, a cool breeze tickling his face and hair. Predator’s Keep was a forest of wood and metal viewed from the Dawn Komturie that rose above. Farther off, the world was a silent mystery, horizons dangling from cloudy skies, as cold and distant as a father who had abandoned his son. Bring on your winter, my lord—and recall, if you do, the name of our island. With that, Vadrian closed the drapes and got dressed in attire that did not quite warrant a suit of armor. He slipped on a long-sleeved shirt of orange linen over gray trousers, pulled on boots of black leather and locked the door on his way out. The wolf within would wait, silent and still, while the man ventured throughout the keep of another predator to listen, to learn and to live.