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  1. 5 points

    -=Walking in a Winter Wonderland=-

    How many can make the claim of representing two separate nations? He doubted there were any aside from his own siblings. Corvinus’ seedline had acted as a bridge between the Houses Melisende and Cartyr. Two of the arguably greatest families. One producing a line of noble heroes and Kommandants, who had saved the entirety of Renovatio from falling. The next had produced the greatest Ucissore in history, and the woman whose hands helped in building the Kadian Empire. It was such a unique extended family, that even he was unsure of what to think about it all. This would be his first political engagement since his graduation into the Bravada. Naturally he had been schooled in the affairs of nobility, such was the case when your mother and father sat at the height if the most advanced nation to grace Valucre’s skies, or when your grandparent ruled a vast empire. Still his confidence in his learning did little to assuage the pressure that seemed to stifle his heartbeat. He was here, alone, representing two nations. Their reputations fell on his shoulders and would either be spoken of in respect or derision based on his success. It was quite a bit to take in, even though Asher had more than enough confidence. He took a deep breath outside of the great entrance of the DuGrace castle. Sure, he had a lot of weight on his shoulders, but he would not have been chosen to see this through if they doubted his capability. He used his free hand to straighten carmine locks, brushed back away from his face. He was a handsome man, though youth still clung to his features, it was hard to miss the sharp structure of Corvinus, and his height. Though he found he was not the only man of great stature in attendance to this celebration. He stepped into the great throne room, after showing he was unarmed, and realized he stuck out like a sore thumb. In a sea of white and pearl hues he was like a drop of blood on the snow. His red suit made him distinctly noticable, a mixture of deep crimson with black accents. Finely woven from fibers of primal alloy. His sister had chosen it for him, and he wondered if she had done so on purpose to make him stand out. He fought the heat rising in his cheeks, looking embarrassed now, there was no turning back. He continued his steps, confidence filling opal eyes that took in the impressive display of the snow and decorations. No expense was spared he thought, it was proof enough that the Orisian people adored their queen. It brought thoughts of the former ruler and his aunt Lemoine to mind. He hoped she was alright, it had been a long time since he had heard from her. He glanced down at the box held in the crook of his arm. A beautiful gift that matched season in which this coronation was taking place. Valsee wood from the Cold South, an intricate inlay of Kadian jewels and Renovatian primal alloy. On its face was three seals, the imperial seal of Kadia, then the seals of the houses Cartyr and Melisende. Just as he was a symbol of these nations’ unity so was this gift. Both nations recognized Gabriela’s right to rule, and in doing so extended a hand of friendship and well wishes. Politics were such a complicated matter, but it seemed he had no choice but to indulge in them. Besides he had always wanted to visit Orisia, where his grandmother and father had first met.
  2. 4 points
    Irene Gabriela DuGrace “There are a pair of dwarves that are anxious to talk to you,” said Marie. She looked up from her clipboard and arched an elegant brow at Gabriela. “Dwarves?” Gabriela repeated with a perplexed frown. “Yes,” replied Marie looking rather amused, “--and they seem particularly anxious to talk to you. I would get to them quickly if I were you. Also your fledgling, Vivian and her husband. They arrived earlier in the day and are being housed in the west wing. The green-eyed beauty seemed more than a little disappointed that you wouldn’t meet with her before the coronation.” “Yes, I imagine she would be. I’ll make it up to her,” Gabriela turned back to her vanity and finished putting on her pearl earrings. She didn’t wear makeup, there really was no need other than in instances when she wanted to appear more human and a little blush on the cheeks or rouge on the lips managed to make her appearance less unnatural. However, due to her pregnancy and the valiant attempts of a whole team of doctors, Gabriela was looking far more healthy than she had in the past. Keeping up with a strict diet was having astounding benefits. Her flesh, pale as always, was once more brightly lit from within, and the even the hairs that made up her dark brows and thick eyelashes seemed lustrous. There was color in her lips, a healthy and light pink that matched the splash of color on her cheeks. And her hair, usually quite glorious regardless of her state of health, was now utterly divine. Pregnancy and all of it’s nasty hormones had ended up with at least one upside. Her hair appeared thick, silken, and strong -- as if obsidian stone had been woven into impossibly thin strands and set loose from the top of her head down past the swell of her bottom. “Maybe she’ll agree to having tea with me sometime this week, that is if she doesn’t have plans to leave immediately after the celebration.” “I do believe she will be sticking around,” said Marie without much enthusiasm. “Beyond that, everyone you would expect is here, save for Raphael and his mate, Zenahriel. I can’t imagine our dear cousin will miss your big day, but he may not show up until later.” Gabriela had moved on to fix the sleeves of her dress upon her shoulders. She nearly stopped, but managed somehow to follow through with the pretense of not being concerned about what Raphael did. She didn’t want so much as to question why Raphael would be late for fear of giving away how much she had come to depend on him and his presence. That was hardly the sort of information she wanted Marie passing along to the Carmine Emperor. Marie waited, she took note of what she saw, and then moved on without skipping a beat. “Some other notable people you might be interested in...Corvin’s grandson has made an appearance. Some youth with a long list of unearned titles and an attitude to match, I am sure. He’s here representing both Kadia and the Cold South, so if he wants to dance -- you better dance with him.” “Grandson!?” Her golden eyes were fixed on Marie again, drinking in the sight of her unabashed amusement. The golden elder, as Gabriela had taken to calling her female cousin, was enjoying this too much. The oddities of the world seemed to fill her with pleasure, and telling Gabriela what to expect and how to react to it all was just icing on the cake for her. “How in the bloody hell does he have a grandson?” Gabriela asked hopelessly, her pretty face twisted up in a disapproving scowl. “And Corvin has the audacity of calling us unnatural,” she huffed and turned away once more, not really upset with the Kadian Emperor, but quite annoyed. There was absolutely nothing natural about that particular family… “Yes, well, you be nice to him. Beyond that, there’s a lovely young woman here -- Raveena, I believe. I figured you’d be quite interested in catching up with her. And finally, we are expecting some dignitaries from Port Caelum.” Gabriela had stopped listening at the mention of Raveena. She hadn’t thought much about the woman since her return to Orisia. Not out of a lack of concern -- once Raphael told her that Raveena had survived and was on the mend, she felt much better about it. But rather than linger on the events of that day, she tried her hardest to keep her mind from wandering -- wondering. She felt a sudden and ugly urge to open her journal, which sat on her vanity next to her hair brush, and stroke her fingers across the rough surface of that little piece of paper. She is here. She is here. She is here. Her fingers all but itched in a nervous sort of anxiety to feel the tattered edges of the parchment. “--Cousin Gabriela, are you ready?” She blinked at her reflection. She looked severe and haunted, with her eyes half-lidded and her mouth pressed into a serious line. Her hand sat on the vanity top with her fingers curled into a tight fist to hide the fact that she was trembling. “Yes, I am ready.” ~*~ The singing of the choir ended on a gentle upbeat note, and then a collection of men gathered on either side of the center aisle of the throne room, the plush black carpet had somehow been kept from being snowed on, although it was speckled in white here and there. Their presence on either side of the carpet, and for the length of it from the door to the throne, caused people to quickly move away and make room. In perfect unison the men, dressed in black, readied their golden trumpets, which once held up unfurled and revealed the banner of the DuGrace house -- a black flag upon which a dragon in gold was painted, with three crescent moons above its head, also in gold. They announced the queen’s arrival with a deep and colorful force that caused even the most mischievous child to stop what he or she was doing and turn their full attention to the royal doors. They had been open all along, but no one had been paying attention, so no one knew for how long the queen had been standing there -- watching them all. There was time enough to feel the bondage. Imaginary chains wrapped all around her body. She felt them thick and heavy on her wrists, her ankles, and around her neck. The billowing of her family’s crest painted upon those black flags that swayed to and fro on the trumpets of the men announcing her arrival made her envision herself as a dragon. Suddenly she wasn’t some petite beauty, a fragile creature of uncanny perfection -- pale of flesh, lovely of hue. No, she was an ugly thing, but vastly powerful. Her flesh was unpiercable, covered in diamond-strong scales of black, while her elegant neck transformed into a long and curving thing that channeled and delivered molten fire. And here she was, a slave to these creatures -- these pathetic and faithless creatures. Once upon a time she had loved Orisia and she had loved it’s people. She had called them her children, but that was long before she knew what it meant to truly be a mother. There would never be another being whom she loved as completely as the tiny creature that stirred in her womb at this very moment. He was the only one who would ever understand her, who would ever really know her. For he felt the same constraints because heard them echoing in the beating of his mother’s heart. This joyous occasion was the same spectacle she had seen almost a year ago when she had been forced to come and witness Lucis’ coronation. These gluttonous people who came into her home, drank her wine and ate her food. They celebrated without knowing an ounce of the sacrifice that went into any of it. They didn’t know, and couldn’t begin to fathom, what she had given up in order to take the throne once more and wear their crown yet again. But it was not for love of them this time, and perhaps that would make all the difference. She now saw them as spoiled and ungrateful children. They had quickly forgotten the world that they lived in just six years ago, and beyond that, the endless trials that she suffered in name of them in order to maintain the precious equilibrium she had managed to bring to all. They didn’t know, but they could have guessed -- they should have guessed. How anyone, much less a whole nation, could share in the ignorant belief that they were somehow owed a peaceful existence was beyond her. That they could exist without stopping to think about how their lives had ended up as they were seemed a foolish mistake. But she would take partial blame in all of this. She had coddled them. She had done everything to protect them from the realities of the world. But all of that ended tonight. If this was her cross to bear -- if she had to wear the Orisian crown in order to ensure the life of her child, then she would do so but she would do it in her own way. She would not be queen to a nation of belligerent and rotten children. Her dress was a hard thing to describe although the sight of it was surely astounding to most. It was beautiful, but in a strange way. It was not soft and flowing, it was not elegant in her usual way. The dress was silver toned and speckled with white-clear crystals. The strangest part was now near the hue of the dress was to her own skin tone. The dress was made of jagged patterns across her chest, with pointed off the shoulder straps. Everything about her dress seemed prickly and unapproachable. Anyone who wanted to lay hands on her would find themselves challenged by the task, as it seemed the whole thing was made up of slender pieces of sharpened metal and pointed glass. Someone, somewhere had once called her an Ice Queen. Tonight she took up the mantle with pride. The original dress had been fitted all the way down to the knees before spreading into a mermaid-type of skirt. Because of her swollen belly, she had the dress altered into an empire waist that did away with any constraints that might have caused her child discomfort. It meant there was more material, more metal plates, more pieces of sharp crystal and glass -- making lovely music as she began to move forward into the throne room. Like a wind chime, she walked in a soft melody of her own making with a loose skirt that fell over her rounded stomach and draped down and behind her, following in an impossibly long train. Her hair was woven into a braid, through it a silver chain of pearls and diamonds glittered as it swayed from side to side across her mostly exposed back. She walked without smiling across a carpet that was speckled with snow. As she drew near to each pair of trumpet players, who stood across from one another, she watched them fold down onto a knee, until at last she reached her throne. It was nearly white with snow. The four knights turned to her and also lowered themselves onto a knee, save for one, who moved forward at a respectable pace and offered thee queen a hand. She gladly took his offered hel and stepped onto the dais, and then, after turning back to the throne room finally saw fit to smile at all her guests. “Thank you so very much, all of you, for joining me on this very special day. Please, continue with the festivities.” A small hand, pale and perfect with glass like fingernails shifted into the air and wove royal authority. The singing immediately picked up again, the servants went back to floating their heavy trays to every person they saw empty of hand. She sat down very, very carefully, and set her hands upon her lap. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position -- sitting upright with perfect posture with a big, heavy belly sitting on your lap and a nearly full-term baby stretching it’s cramped limbs inside of you -- but she made it look easy nevertheless.
  3. 4 points
    Hey everyone, big news post, tl;dr a the end (but please read the whole thing. I know this is really long but I take a lot of time to write these out and I'd appreciate your attention to these info dumps >_<) First of all, we're gonna be moving on to event seven soon (come January) and with it comes some changes. No longer will threads be limited to members who join in right at the start, threads are now open to anyone on the crew at any time over the course of the thread's existence that feels that they have something substantive to add to the storyline. I'll still be coming up with and providing scenarios (though as before this duty is available to anyone who wants it on a case-by-case basis) and we'll be doing away with the month-long time limit as well. From now on, threads will run for as long as it takes to finish them. If you feel like a thread is running too slow for your tastes, than feel free to jump in and move the plot along! Obviously, with these changes there exists some potential for chaos, but I believe that we can all work together to create a cohesive storyline together. Additionally, with this change, all previous threads from months prior are re-opened to their original members to finish them out. Now, these threads will remain closed to except to their original inhabitants, and I apologize for that, but going forward we're all going to be able to work together on each new thread! Next up, we will be saying goodbye to several members who have unfortunately proven inactive, and effective immediately the positions of Enforcer, Engineer, and Gunner are all taking new applicants. Additionally, as usual, new positions are available for creating as long as you can explain to me why that position should exist on the Aria. You may notice that the position of first mate is now occupied by an NPC. This character, one Talia Arkinson, is an old friend and ally of Cecil's. She's a diminutive human woman with a reserved temperament and a penchant for careful consideration. Expect more details soon about the specifics of her character and appearance, but know that Talia is always available for use in threads involving Aria members as an NPC. Simply ask me about what role you need her to fill in your thread and explain to me what your plans are and then feel free to write with her in your thread. Next order of business, I'm looking to turn the Aria into an official club, so get hyped about that. However, to accomplish this, we need 60 canonized posts. We're about half way there, but I need finished threads to make this happen, about 30 more posts worth. These threads need to fulfill the requirements for canonization, which means they must have a summary post at their conclusion detailing their effects on the world at large, as well as notable consequences. The easiest way to generate these consequences is to create some kind of quest resulting from the thread, and submit it to the board leader for wherever the thread takes place. The other easiest way to impact canon is to go on quests or pursue artifacts, both avenues open to enterprising members of the crew. Finally, event seven itself! This storyline takes place in Cutpurse Cove, and as stated earlier, is open to everyone. The crew is on shore leave, and Cecil and some of the crew spent the evening partying and drinking. This is all well and good, but things got a little out of hand, and now the Captain and some of the crew have woken up in an alley with pounding hangovers and clouded memories. Last night was clearly pretty crazy, but the details remain hazy. Together, the crew will work to remember or figure out exactly what happened last night, and maybe how much trouble they got into. Writing in this thread will be a bit tricky, since it's a frame story featuring a group of characters in one moment remembering what happened in a previous instance. However, I believe that we're up to the challenge. Look for more details when I make the first post! So, tl;dr: Event seven coming. Open to everyone, as are all events from now on. Will run for as long as it takes to finish the thread. All previous main event threads are now open to finish between the members who were originally part of them, time restrictions waived Several crew members have been dropped for inactivity and we now have Enforcer, Gunner, and Engineer positions available! We are now introducing Talia Arkinson as the first mate. She's an NPC available generally to the crew for use in Aria-related threads. Look above for more info We are now trying to turn the Aria into a site official club, so let's get some canon threads out there! We need 60 posts and should be about halfway there Event seven details coming soon. Will take place in Cutpurse Cove after the crew wakes up from a night of partying and merry-making that's left everyone more than a little fuzzy and hungover. That's all for now folks. Thank you so much for reading this, I know it's long but take the breadth as an expression of my excitement and dedication to our project. I'm looking forward to working with you all in the future, and hope to get everyone involved together in threads from here on out. P.S. @Hidden_Hood if you're still around, I would recommend following this thread to make sure you stay updated about what's going on. I think I made sure everyone else is following as well, but if you're not, I would highly suggest that you do so.
  4. 3 points
    I am looking for one to two other members to join my character Berkant in stopping a Dougton caster who summoned a creature that they cannot control and is on a rampage. This quest was acquired by Berkant through the Terric Oracle as roleplayed in A Nomad's First Steps - Berkant sees it as a mission handed to him by fate, but understands he is unlikely to be able to handle a magical beast on his own. I'd like to roleplay out our characters meeting, somewhere between Hell's Gate and Dougton and then move on to the quest itself.
  5. 3 points
    ▶ [In between Hell's Gate and Langley Keep] It had been three days - only three days and Berkant had already found himself hopelessly without direction. He had known the exile of the youth from the tribe was coming and still he felt unprepared, but still the inevitable wheels of time had pushed him out of the only world he knew. The greener lands south of the Wasteland were foreign, the people he had encountered were strange and materialistic, focused on what he could offer them rather then cooperation for it's sake; it was all so different - that spoke nothing of the massive metropolis that was Hell's Gate, something he had avoided at all costs, its towering structures like spires defying the clouds above and its constant noise almost overwhelming even miles away from it. "Was this really the only choice? How must I proceed?" He uttered to himself, his form slumped against a tree and his head down, hidden by the large hood of his jacket. Doubt had plagued Berkant for the better part of the day, the aimless solitary wandering weighing heavy on the nomad - the lack of community was hard, and the lack of a defined goal toward his migration left him wondering why his tribe believed this would be preferable to dying alongside his kin. In his hand Berkant held a scrap of folded paper, his fingers rubbing over it idly as his mind wandered - remembering what his mother had told him to do if he ever felt lost, aimless in the world. 'Listen, my son; the world beyond us is vast, confusing and dangerous. If you are ever without idea write a secret down, build a small fire and then add a drop of blood to the parchment - then burn it. Make sure my son that the secret is true, and deep - something you want none to know. If you follow it true the fire will flare, its hue becoming green and an oracle will come; ask it for direction in this world and it will guide you.' His mother's words echoed in his mind, as it had been for the past few hours - it was not that he did not trust his mother, but did Berkant truly want his fate decided by a mystical entity he had never seen nor heard of before his mother spoke of it? It was this childish rebellion that had kept Berkant in his struggle, fighting his desire for being master of his own fate against the need for direction in a world too vast and foreign for him to manage alone. "I understand, Mother." Berkant muttered to himself, his mind made up. Gathering up some kindling at his side Berkant sparked the fire to life with practiced efficiency, the small light of the flame dancing across his face and inside his hood and coating him with a reassuring warmth - a sign to Berkant that his choice was the right one. Drawing his left thumb to his mouth Berkant bit hard, pinching the skin and tearing it - blood pooled quick and Berkant allowed a single drop to fall onto the folded piece of parchment. Without looking at the secret within Berkant cast into the flames - his guilt at the contents of the secret leaving Berkant assured the oracle would answer.
  6. 3 points

    [Quest] Bogus Booty

    Aboard a ship disembarking from Casper, Terrenus Wiz leaned back, resting his head against the cool wood of the ship's interior. He kept his eyes open and focused on a gnarled bit of wood he found staring back at him from a support beam. He had tried fighting the nausea by closing his eyes but that only made things worse, until someone had been kind enough to let him chew on a bitter root they guaranteed would calm his turbulence. It did help some, but Wiz was convinced that emotions were at least partially to blame for his seasickness. This wasn't just his first time on a ship. It was his first time away from Terrenus. He had associations, but no living family to speak of, and very few flesh-and-blood friends. His closest companions were the spirits which engaged him from his grimoire, the memories of ancestors long dead, and the few friends he had made in his lifetime were not only few, but were new. Yet, despite how tenuous his living memory was in Terrenus, it was nonexistent in Alterion. There he didn't have so much as his name written in some obscure legend. There he was nothing and had no one. Wiz kept a bucket in his lap for when things spiraled out of control – this was one of those times. Alterion; on a maglev racing towards Izral. Wiz was excited. This vehicle's motion was so much smoother than the boat he could hardly believe it. He was reminded of its extreme velocity only when he glanced outside of the window and saw, not individual features, but smears of color blurring together. The young mage was one of four total passengers in the car; the cheapest seat he could find. He occupied himself by reading through Merwyn's diary after discovering that the wizard had not only written in code, but also in ambigrams, so whole pages of his thought revealed new insights when read at different angles. Despite his fascination Wiz couldn't help but allow his mind to stray to the moment that started his incredible journey, when the Lady had written to him about the job. He cared that it paid something, because without funds he couldn't rent a lab or afford material components or experiment with complicated spells. But he cared much, much more about the fact that it sounded like he could do some good. Save a life. Help a people. Brief flashes of white mixed into the abstracted palette of landscape outside of the maglev cued Wiz to start gathering his things moments before the train began to slow. They were pulling into Izral's tundra, and he wanted to get to the rendezvous point early. He hoped to grab a hot potato prior to their departure to Tekwell. Tekwell, Devla Desert You wouldn't call Tekwell clean, exactly. Industrious was a word you could use shamelessly, but comparing the green engineering of Terrenus to the unpaved roads and smokestacks of Tekwell painted some very clear differences between the two. Wiz didn't care. Born to a remote village practically untouched by the federal government, everything he could lay his eyes on in Tekwell added a new wrinkle to his brain. He was particularly fascinated by the metal men, which he considered to be men, on the basis that they seemed to hold comparable rights to organic humanoids. They not only did work, they owned shops. Wiz even heard of one metal man described as being a 'stand up guy'. Fascinating. Wiz was so absorbed by the sights around him that he embodied the soul of a rookie and didn't watch where he was going. He ran face first into the slightly greasy mechanic overalls of a man who also hadn't been paying much attention to the path in front of him. "Watch where you're going kid." The man put his hand on Wiz's shoulder and pushed him to one side without a second thought, continuing on his way. Wiz had to skip on one foot to keep from losing his balance and called out after the man. "Sorry about that mister! It's just so damn pretty here!" That was the first time that he cursed without being in pain or danger, but it wasn't like anyone here could possibly know who he was. Wiz was feeling a little bold. He turned his attention back to the group just as they entered the shop, crowding in behind them before the door swung back into place. The debriefing which followed was curt, establishing the critical elements quickly: an officer had been kidnapped but they didn't know why or by whom, rebels have been smuggling contraband through goods, and mercenaries had been brought in for extra muscle. Wiz might have fainted if being on Beast's side didn't comfort him, so instead his face paled a few shades. "Oh. Well. Wait wait, hold on a second." The next thing Wiz knew he had a hat in his hands and they were walking out of the shop. "I –" They had been told where Niles Cook worked and, roughly, where the repair shop was located in Tekwell. Images of the smell of grease and a nametag pushed themselves to the fore of Wiz's mind. He looked up and could see the mechanic's distracted face as he pushed him to one side. "I know what Niles Cook looks like. We should . . . start there?"
  7. 3 points

    -=Walking in a Winter Wonderland=-

    When the Queen made her arrival, Gerrak felt nervous about his chances. Of all the things to go wrong, his assistant abandoning him at his time of need was one that hurt the most. All the old dwarf had tried to do was help her to move on from her pain, and this is what she does? The youth of today was impossible for him to understand, and it most certainly didn't leave him with a good taste in his mouth. He could not wait for her to make a return, he needed to do this and do this quickly. Already he could see others preparing themselves for seeking an audience with the DuGrace monarch, and the dwarf would sooner be damned before giving up a chance to speak first. It was a powerful move, one that would speak volumes of the dwarves from Tazarek and hopefully move the Queen towards being favorable towards them. With his hand leaning hard on his cane, he respectfully waited until the ceremony was finished, then walked over to her for the whole court to see. "Your Majesty, I have come seeking audience with you, in the hopes of creating a bond between both the dwarves of Tazarek and the people of Orisia." He made sure to make the distinction of Garrek's people and the Tall Ones that lived here on the island. Soon the whole of Valucre would know the dwarves have returned, so he would never deny his people that recognition whenever the chance struck. "It is my dearest hope that an accord can be struck between us, so that we both may benefit." The eyes of strangers and enemies were piercing down on him hard, but he would not waiver. His people's future was more important than the glares and leers given to him from the shadows. Dwarves have always been forced to stand against incredible odds, be it the eyes of nobility or the swords of soldiers. Like any other moment where this is the case though, he would stand his ground. "Our people are going through a new age of expansion and exploration. For too long the world has been without the presence of dwarves, and we will not be content with fading away in the background. It is in this interest, that I request myself, and many other dwarves looking to immigrate, be allowed to settle upon Orisia in order to find a new life and a new home for our kin." Even at his advanced years, he could hear the whispers spawned by his declaration. A new group was asking permission to enter into the political theater of the summer island. This would mean an entirely new potential ally or enemy to those wishing to advance themselves in court. Unlike other lords and ladies though, the dwarves operated by different standards, different rules, and were not so easily swayed by the same weaknesses of the Tall Ones. "If it please the Queen, I would ask to rejoin my master in this cause." A voice said, and Gerrak turned to see with great joy that Serta was there, her face a wondrous mask of political neutrality which betrayed no hint of her past emotional difficulties. With grace and poise, she would join Gerrak and help him to kneel before the queen, saving him from making a fool of himself in front of the court. When they rose, she reached for her pack, taking out the gifts they would present to the Queen. "In honor of this glorious day, Your Grace" Serta said as she removed a steel tome bound with three silver rings. "We have brought tokens of our friendship, the first being this book, which holds within it our language, our history and the stories we have told each other, passed down for generations." The book was constructed beautifully, with hard edged geometric designs that spoke of unity and strength. "May that book be a symbol of our willingness to being a part of your culture." Gerrak was more and more impressed by the way Serta was handling herself during all of this. Not a single word was stumbled over, not a single custom of respect was overlooked. Only when the queen had given her opinion upon the first gift, would the dwarven woman bring out the second. This one he held doubts about, but knew if anyone could present it well enough, it would be Serta herself. Pulling out a small bronze box from her pack, she gingerly presented it to the queen, placing it upon the floor gently before speaking. "With this, we hope to present unto you our proof that we are a people of strong ingenuity and creativity. You shall soon see the wonder of dwarven craftsmanship, as I tell you a story of love and bravery." Pressing down on a button on the right side of the box, a gentle melody began to fill the room as the story began. 'Once there was a maiden, whose heart was pure and filled with light.' She said, and out from a slot in the top of the box came the outline of a beautiful dwarven woman. The maiden had two long braids going down her left shoulder, her hands clasped over her heart as her eyes were closed as if in prayer. 'Her heart was captured by a brave and noble warrior, who loved her as she loved him.' From another slot came the outline of a dwarven warrior, a mighty beard, a helmeted face and a strong armor clad body wielding an ax in both hands. 'One day, when the warrior was out in the countryside, he discovered a dragon. He was a large thing, with great gnashing teeth and claws that could pierce through steel as if it were paper.' From the center of the box came a larger outline, this one of a powerful dragon with wings spread and fire spewing from its maw. The outlines moved in jerky circles, the warrior moving towards the dragon as the maiden kept her distance. 'This dragon coveted the warrior, taking him as his prize in order to keep and admire when he wished. When the maiden heard what had happened to her beloved, her anguish could make even the stones cry out.' The melody went into a darker tone, expressing the heartache and sorrow felt by the maiden. Serta never missed a beat, even as a tear began to well in her right eye. 'So to save her beloved, the maiden went to the dragon to plead for its life. The dragon refused, and told her she had nothing of equal or greater worth to exchange for the warrior. He was mighty and strong and noble, what could possibly compare to such traits?' Edging closer to the dragon, one could almost feel the sadness ebbing off the box. 'Desperate, the maiden told the dragon she would offer herself as an exchange, and began to sob in pain. By the magic of the love she held for the warrior in her heart, her tears were not simply water, but shining droplets of platinum. Such a display moved the dragon, and tempted his greedy heart greatly.' Once more the outlines began to move, the warrior now distancing himself from the dragon as the maiden moved closer. 'To save her love, the maiden sacrificed her freedom and her life to being a possession of the evil dragon. They say her tears can still be found out there in the world, and all who hold them in their possession are able to feel the tremendous sadness within them, just as she felt that sadness for her greatest love.' The music stopped, the outlines slid smoothly back into the box at their appropriate places. Silence filled the room, and the dwarves waited with baited breath as to what the Queen's decision would be. They had made their case, now their fate would be in the hands of the gods.
  8. 3 points

    -=Walking in a Winter Wonderland=-

    Raveena leaned against the pillar, feeling the press of lights to her backside. The voice floated to her and she offered a half-smile, "Actions have consequences." She stated, turning the mug over and over with her gloved hands, careful not to stain the pretty ivory color with chocolate, "I was simply in the right place at the right time." Rowan had kissed her, some daring affirmation of his affection for her and suddenly the rebellion had made sense. His fury at her, the way she had endangered herself. It had all resolved that night in the Kadian winter. Six months, and she thought he had abandoned her as her bodyguard. He had come to rescue her before she--tiny thing that she were--made a spectacle of punching her nephew Koji in the jaw. He had been disguised then, and she didn't know it until he teased her. Burdened. That is how she felt. He had presented her with a lovely dress of woven spidersilk, gossamer and featherlight--yet stronger than Kevlar for her protection. She had spent the night with him as he tended to the misery of her headache from Corvin's influence, and awoke to being alone. She worn her dress--and how she loved it. How whimsical and lovely she felt to wear it, incandescently happy that she were for Rowan's return. That was when she happened across Gabriela in the gardens, tucked and hidden away like a creature of loveliness that could not be seen. She could not remember her disdain for the Empress, for Raveena was far more compassionate and empathetic than Raven ever was; She was the Sefirot Reborn, an incarnation of Binah herself: The Mother--and with it the feminine, guardian energy that came along with it. Raveena had obstructed the view of their would-be attackers, and as a consequence of consoling Gabriela, she nearly had her arm blown off as two Kadian rounds explosively tore through her bare shoulder. Raveena lifted the mug to her lips and sipped the hot chocolate. It had cooled, and yet remained rich and creamy. She wondered, briefly, if there were trees that carried the cocoa bean on the island. It didn't seem impossible, but it touched on how little she recalled island life and how little she knew of Orisia's exports. Raveena lifted her gaze thoughtfully, "Renji," She tried the name out slowly, careful to enunciate it as she had. "Reennjjii," She tried it again, when she was sure that she had it. "I like it, there is energy to it. I am Raveena. Terran born in the Eastern Mountains but I consider Genesaris home." Trumpets caught her attention and cut off her line of thought, her gaze returning to the four knights who knelt for the Queen and Empress. It was perhaps by reflex--and an oddity to witness--that Raveena formed a fist and cross it over her chest just above her heart. It was her own salute to Gabriela not as a politician, but as a soldier. War was coming, whether the Orisian Queen knew it or not. She, like thousands of others, would serve. Only then had Raveena looked at the Queen, and at first glance she thought enchanted ice had been cast on her. As though chunks of ice had exploded to life on her body, the empire style dress was a lovely piece of threaded glass and metal. Gabriela was spared no expense in the lavishness of design. It highlighted the pale radiance of her immortality. The Queen sat with practiced poise and the caroling resumed, the snow fights raged on and Raveena turned back to the new-found companion, cradling her mug once more, "You've traveled a long way, what do you do that you can travel abroad?" There was a prickling of her skin on the nap of her neck, and she could feel Rowan's eyes on her. It was less a knowing, for she never knew when the Spider had eyes on her. Here, now, she felt it more than she knew it--and she couldn't deny it delighted her to be aware. The Chimera had a preternatural allure to him, as he was something primal and monstrous--and he cared very little who was subjected to such a force. No doubt he had eyes on Renji--and as such, would put a bullet in him if he seemed to so much as suggest himself as a threat to the Queen. "Your home--it is an island, is it not?" Her smile did not diminish, and it made her seem more lively than her tired nature suggested. The Rising Queen of the East, they called her. What good was having a moniker and title and making acquaintances with other people with other monikers and titles if your boyfriend shot them all to death because he didn't like the look of them? It was endearing in its own way. Rowan was fiercely protective and possessive of her. She feared for any man or woman to bat their lashes at her, lest they drop dead. Please don't shoot anyone, she silently pleaded. @Afro Punk
  9. 3 points
    Dolor Aeternum

    Safe riots and kidnapping

    Lunara’s comment concerning his expectation of her caught the being off guard for once. Had it not been that it came several moments before the door burst open, Agony would have been the starting point of failure for this challenging plan set forth by Isidor. The large black knight recovered quickly, readying his scythe that seemed to undulate wildly as if it was an extension of what his body was truly made of. His body tensed and as soon as some of the portions of the door sprayed across his frame, he dashed forward. After Lunara’s quick blinding attack on the orc’s vision, Klarth desperately tried to rub his eyes, managing to drop one of his shotguns. His free hand attempted to reestablish a hold of one of his shotguns, fumbling a bit with the pistol grip as his lack of vision made any hand movements hard to initiate. Klarth quickly yelled due to the pain “I cant see! I cant see! What the hell….” The orc was loud in his complaint regarding his vision which annoyed Agony as the creature’s volume would surely be loud enough to alert someone further inside the hideaway but perhaps not clear enough to suggest that this hideaway was being attacked. Klarth’s large finger inched closer to the trigger of his remaining shotgun, elevating the weapon just a few inches before a sharp pain was felt on his neck. Agony’s imposing form moved with an unnerving amount of speed before Klarth felt the scythe cleanly cut through his neck. The blade’s force was controlled, cutting through the sturdy bone of the orc with a precision that tacitly displayed Agony’s ability with the weapon. Klarth’s bulky head launched itself in the air only to luckily fall on Klarth’s body before it rolled to the floor. The thud of the orc’s skull on the floor would have piqued the curiosity of anyone nearby or underneath them. Agony looked past Klarth and per Isidor’s plan, continued forward at a dead run, taut muscles once again propelling him forward. Gauntlets gripped yet again onto his scythe as he moved to cross the next threshold, waiting for Isidor's magic retracing to provide some more insight.
  10. 3 points

    The Silk Road

    Excitement found itself pulsating through his body the moment he laid his sight upon her. The shards of primary colors that made up his iris slid in an out of his pupil seemingly randomly, her fluid frame bathed in an array of auras, and oh what an aura it was. Beauty like this was to be experienced, not just looked upon, and doing so ceased any effort for suppression. His mouth parted slightly, while his tongue slid across their surface. " ♫Oooh,♫ Kiyoko, the one that got away. " His voice emerging from a shadow cast by a nearby structure 20 yards ahead of her while simultaneously stepping out into the light. Foregoing his usual attire, his body was hidden underneath a large black coat. Thick ebon strands laid about his head in an unruly state, lips stretched out into a familiar smile. His aura could have been construed as ominous, but his physical demeanor revealed no such thing. His approach was calm, yet confident. Unstable, but confined. His presence was a conflict to the senses, yet charming to those that heeded his beckoning. He'd stop 15 yards from her, arms behind his back with his left hand clasped around his right wrist. " I've been looking for you for quite some time now, yes I have. " His voice carrying an eccentric eloquence, an apparent trademark of his. She was indeed perfection, like the other one, and this moment washed over him in equally spaced out waves of euphoria. His search was over, and his prize was mere yards away from him. His thoughts darted left and right. His mind cataloging her most specific details, taking her in as much as he could. Vibrations meant different things to different people, and although he held no opinion on the matter, there he stood excitedly searching for her frequency.
  11. 2 points

    Hyperion City

    Hyperion: The High Kingdom Queen: Raveena Jhanavi Senaria Contact: Deus Ex Aizen "Our sun sets to rise again." Geography Topography: Hyperion has been built against and on top of Thesdan Ridge. Thesdan Ridge is a mountain range that is as follows: Elevation 14,300 ft (4,359 m) Prominence 5, 812 ft (1,771 m) Population 252,529; 75,759 Enlisted The sun-dappled forests of Hyperion are a four-season wonderland. Rich blooms of springtime wildflowers come in all colors and sizes, while brilliant Emeri flowers light up the high-elevation meadows in summer. Autumn brings its own fiery rewards with quilted hues of orange, burgundy and saffron blanketing the mountain slopes. In winter, snow-covered fields and ice-fringed cascades transform Hyperion into a serene, cold-weather retreat. Hyperion commands an elevation high enough to see the Great Pine Barrens as a mesmerizing backdrop, harboring more biodiversity than any other forests in the Terran East. 4 miles west is a trail that leads to the tranquil Ponkapoag River. The Thesdan Ridge offers breathtaking views of the South Sea, with Predator's Keep to the West. On a clear day, it's possible to see Dead Peaks, the highest peak in Terrenus. Cityscape: Hyperion sprawls 10 miles in nearly every direction from its high rise plateau. A meshing of Matreyan and Terran culture pepper Hyperion, which is officially known as ‘the High Kingdom’ supposedly because it sits on a visible ridge. Arcadia hosts all the splendor of the regency and nobility. The newly built Corinthia district proudly hosts the new-found reputation for civic and militaristic domains, while Kastoria is sprinkled with several fine institutes of learning and cultural understanding. Messenia holds its reputation for being a powerhouse in research and development, while the famous Laconia district hosts a colorful array of businesses and merchant guilds. Beyond the walls of the city lay the four quaint villages that are quietly budding to life: Athadas, Vinosea, Imradel, and Brehill. Climate: Hyperion climate features warm summers and cool winters with a narrow annual temperature range. There is no dry season in this section, precipitation ranging from moderate to heavy, and the forests are temperate, especially in the Great Pine Barrens. Flora and Fauna Hyperion is a magical place to reconnect with nature. Days here are spent hiking past shimmering waterfalls and traversing well-worn paths alongside boulder-filled mountain streams, followed by evenings dining in the Atrium of Lights as stars glimmer overhead. The city’s abundant plant and animal species create memorable opportunities for wildlife-watching, whether seeing Braix grazing in the early morning light, watching the eerily glowing Chelae skitter down the mountains in the dead of night, hunting wild Calcatrix or perhaps admiring the Imperial Gardens and swooning over the scarlet brilliance of the Red Maple trees, or the various species of the Imperial Lotus bred by Raveena herself. Demographics Culture: A marriage of the remnants of Matreyan culture and the Terrenus way of life was at first met with resistance. The Matreyan culture, once regaled for its connection to the elements, the patient understanding of the value of life was marred by decades of slavery and genocide, leaving much of its culture undefined and in ruins. Many of the holidays, minor religions and customs are predominantly Matreyan, with major Terran influences. Many of these religions, customs and superstitions are celebrated and taught based on varying beliefs and influences, chiefly Gaianism. Economy: Despite being new, the Hyperion economy has reached stability. This is primarily due to its system of self-sustainability as well as carefully handled imports and exports. By welcoming in and rehabilitating liberated slaves, Raven has formed a system that allows immigrants to gain their citizenship by learning a trade that the city can benefit from. By focusing on supporting local economy, the city has thrived on business while maintaining amicable relationships with neighboring towns and cities and abroad. Several forms of currency can be found, brought over from the city’s original denizens of Sigil City and Matreya. For more information on the Hyperion Economy, see Chapter III of Kingdom, Rising: Concerning the Economy Parks and Recreation Landmarks and monuments Major Companies and Institutions: Arcadia – Citadel Corinthia – Civic District Kastoria – Academic District Messenia – Warehouse District Laconia – Trade District Government The Enforcers - Exclusive to Raveena. Many of the original Enforcers from Sigil City followed her to Valucre when she was promoted to their General and later Commander. Enforcers are volunteering Civilians who wished to have basic military training and law enforcement training to keep the streets safe. The Aralim - The Imperial Military, encompassing the Alethea Air Force and the Genesarian Naval Fleet as well as the Queensguard. This superior force serves as the military strength of the Hyperian Empire. The Web – A wetworks asset spearheaded by the King Consort himself, Rowan—better known as Agent Spider—has retained the best agents in the field to work under him in the shadows. A retinue of talent of the highest caliber, these refined individuals mix style, class and lethality with efficiency. Education Education is free, though taxation is higher to sustain this balance. Those who focus on their trade or work over their education come off as having more of an empirical mindset about the city’s workings. Hyperion boasts the budding vocational institute, the Hyperion Academy. Intent to rehabilitate and have her people thrive, Raveena herself invested in their education, focusing on the written and spoken language, creating a renaissance for the next generation and giving birth to the visual arts that dominate the city to this day. Transportation Roads and Highways: Hyperion sits several miles from major highways, but has constructed several local roads that cascade down the mountain and spread into the Great Pine Barrens, that follow the river to Ponkapoag Lake and lead to the east coast by skirting around the Forgotten Woods. The nearest major highway leads one to Ashville, with Last Chance to the south and Palgard to the far west. Rails/Subways: None Riverways: River Sine is the nearest river, eventually leading to Ponkapoag Lake and Timber Creek. Cab: Transportation in Hyperion is chaotic and varied. The most common method is by foot, the rik'shaa, as well as steam and spellcycles. Private: Personal mounts such as Thestrals, Horses, Dire Beasts, and Wyverns are scattered among the population. Upperclass citizens that can afford one have motorized bikes and/or vehicles. On the rarest occasion, outside of the Noble Houses, a personal airship is used as a method of transportation.
  12. 2 points
    thot patrol cziri

    hello there!!

    hi guys!! i'm a pastry chef that also loves to write to express my creativity!! nice to meet you guys!! cziri!!!!!!!!
  13. 2 points

    Bogus Booty OOC

    I woulda blushed if reactions had that option. May have to look into that now!
  14. 2 points
    As Walker treaded forth with his comrades-- taking into account Nikki's opinion on a very likely possibility. "If that's the case, I can cast a spell known as Detect Magic to confirm such a thing. And then-- if need be break out of such an illusion by disturbing the main focal point where the magical flow resides. That way the illusion would be unstable. Only an idea however in a situation like that. Taking a moment to look around his surroundings-- wildlife that may have lived in such a forest must either be prayed on by the creature or working with them. Such a thought seemed likely but there could be a point where creatures of the green would attack them. Gritting his teeth-- Walker would remain at his guard, keeping his eyes open and mind focused.
  15. 2 points

    Bogus Booty OOC

    Phew that was a close one. Hopefully I didn't flub on any super obvious details and as I said, am now active and ready for whatever rounds!
  16. 2 points
    The change had come suddenly. A sweeping wave that had left Elllen feeling drained and exhausted. Noticing this difference took longer, mostly because prior to the event she'd already been feeling much the same. A day spent in a dead mage's abode investigating some odd magical phenomena had gone awry in a truly spectacular fashion. The succeeding series of events left the researcher in what felt like, and may very well have been, a near-catatonic state, and even now, a week later, she wasn't feeling fully recovered. Consequently, it wasn't until she'd tried restraining the odd spirit she'd encountered on her way out of town that she realized something was truly, deeply wrong. Her wells of power and magical energy felt harder to access than usual, and she found herself unable to draw from it as deeply as she was used to. The end result of these circumstances was that the leash of magical energy she'd sent at the spirit wasn't nearly as strong as intended. If everything were operating as normal, the magical tether would have restrained the spirit and linked it to her, at least temporarily, giving her an opportunity to figure out what exactly it was. Instead, the beam of energy failed to attach properly, and the odd spirit shrugged it off. The creature in front of her was truly a strange one. In some ways, it reminded her of an oracular guide, but twisted, in a way her mind had a hard time wrapping itself around. She'd found the miserable entity while leaving town, her business in Doughton over and done with. She'd been intending to report back to the central lab in Hell's Gate for a while now, and this had seemed like the time. Now however, there was another site of interest here. She'd encountered... it, just after leaving the last of small farms on the city outskirts behind. The entity staggered around in a grove of trees, giving off the impression of being lost, but beyond that she could glean no more of it's thoughts or intentions. The creature was alien, in a way nothing native to the plane she called home could be. Clearly, it was some variety of outsider, though the exact nature of which she remained couldn't yet glean. In some ways, it resembled the beings she knew as spirits, the small, semi-conscious masses of magic and energy that inhabited the places in between the 'real' world and the Spirit Realm. It shared with them an ever-changing form that deflected the eye and boggled the imagination, and it's magical signature registered somewhere along the same range as well. There were differences too, however. The entity created a displacement effect in the physical world as well as the magical one, as evidenced by the damage to the surrounding are, and it gave off quick pulses of energy in a format that Ellen found entirely unfamiliar. She'd studied the entity from a distance at first, warily as she could, but it had made no aggressive moves, simply stumbling about in some kind of stupor. It's ever-changing number of limbs and other assorted body-parts would have mattered little, had it been an average spirit, but this entity, whatever it was, found itself subjected to the laws of physics, making navigation impossible in it's tumultuous state. Eventually, it became evident that the spirit lacked the requisite senses for perceiving it's surroundings, and Ellen found herself taking pity on the befuddled monstrosity. Perhaps something had happened to drag this entity into a world wholly foreign to it, or maybe it was the result of someone's horrific experiment. Stranger things had been created or called at the behest of a rogue mage, one of which she'd just finished dealing with herself. The researcher had to suppress a shudder at the memory, and with a grim determination to prevent another such event, she had set to work rectifying the piteous creature's situation. She'd gone about drawing a circle first, using a quick utility spell to turn a regular stick into an implement for crafting very, very minor leylines and then creating a seal of binding in the area around the entity. When she was finished, the magic circle was almost ten feet in diameter, and included the entire ranging space of the befuddled spirit. It wandered about the space, still unaware of Ellen's ministrations. Next, she had reached out the spirit, sending a magic tether to try and make contact with the entity. This, was where things went awry, and Ellen had the gut-wrenching realization that something fundamental had changed about the world around her sometime when she hadn't been paying sufficient attention. The tether had failed to connect properly, but it had gained the beast's attention, and now it thrashed about in a blind frenzy, smashing itself against the trees around it, as well as the magical walls created by the binding circle containing it. A bead of sweat dripped down the researcher's brow as she watched the creature flail around. Whatever was making magic harder for her to draw upon was also affecting her circle, but for now it was holding. She could feel some strain on her willpower at each impact against the magical walls, but she had the reserves to keep this up for quite a while yet. Now, as long as no one interrupted her concentration or disrupted the magic circle, she should have plenty of time to wait for the entity to calm down, giving her ample opportunity to study it some more and then send it back from wherever it had arrived.
  17. 2 points
    Akuma Hyuuga

    till death do us part.

    He had approached the edge of a response before he was interrupted. Akuma was notoriously hard to sneak up on, let alone surprise. The voice coming at him over the stillness of night was attached to a man who had managed to do both----or, men rather. His focus had changed, his ears had drank in the contents of the dialogue and by it's conclusion Akuma's mood was soured and his intent had changed. Nothing the man said rattled or phased him, it had been made clear that others had been killed. That they were targeting The Kitakokou. Was there really anything else after that point, that required much thought or rebuttal? Akuma would respond though, he was reasonable, they were men after all. "Worried about my life? Im only worried about how much of your blood i can avoid getting on this outfit..." Slowly the glasses on his face were removed and stowed within an inside pocket. Those 1Eyes of Legend were affixed to the speaker within the bunch, and advertised not a single ounce of fear. They did shift over to Ouza momentarily. They displayed confidence in her, not concern and the nod he gave her was one of affirmation that they were about to engage and take life----together. Akuma's fingers undid buttons on the the suits for added comfort---And the cool flare and awesome wind it's gonna pick up during what was sure to be a paramount show from The Kitakokou's own----Right hand man. Any pondering of his findings of or lack there of life force or anima within the man before him was kept under a stoic and face devoid of readable characteristics. Akuma was trained that way, bred this way, honed and galvanized in combat to be machine like and calculating. He didn't have room or the capacity to be surprised further---Now was the time to get rid of a threat. A threat to the two he held closest---Rin and Kaede. To the lands and people that have welcomed them thus far with open arms. To the woman at his right---to whom which a perfect date with had been ruined. The change in temperature was symbolic, the only thing colder was his mood. The malice. The killing intent. He was ensconced in it. His first Steps would cue the war song of this confrontation. Right now it was harder to harmonize the insurmountable might lying dormant within him. There were doors. Large metaphysical, proverbial doors that existed and had been shown to him. A Path, forged anew, a power, a birth right he was once forsaken from now to be embraced in full, ---And he was NOT at his physical best to indulge. He could taste it though. Like some temptress, reaching out from the beyond, like a being of light to rest a soft kiss on his lips and leave a lingering taste. This was apparent--the way his eyes flickered some. They were illuminated---lateral veins running the length from their corners to his temples. A barely visible but present floral formation present in them that wasn't the normal for members of his clan. Now was the time to get down to it... BOOOOOOM!!!!! A massive concussive expansion from the explosive 23rd step, and a [Peerless Brawler] achieves what can only be described borderline inhuman speeds, Instantaneously in a mad blitz across the 20+ meter gap between them, the visuals on his actual body? Close to impossible to visually track, however his foot-falls into the ground could be seen albeit they were akin to machine gun fire hitting the ground.
  18. 2 points

    Blairville chaos event - full!

    Beyond the Doororc's room there's a somewhat long, winding doorless corridor. Opens up into a large room. Combat encounter vs several Red Envoy. Keep in mind I'm not the official storyteller, so free license all round, but I'd suggest from the shout that some measure of prepared attacks greet the group as the reach the room. 3 doors in the room not counting the door-less hallway. One will contain basic short term supplies, one is the escape room, and one is a containment room intended for high value item storage (Bruga). ------------------- Basic layout outline with as much fluff as possible removed.
  19. 2 points
    Tobruk - 4/10 - Raw Demonstration of Power ...Krrrk! A hatchet slid inside the log's body and stopped itself, having barely crossed the half of the path intended. Followed by a scarce jeering, it was pulled out with the same cracking sound, leaving the fissure behind it. "Seein' that for days, human." - the quartermaster grumbled wearily. - "Is that really an excuse to let you be?" Yet the blacksmith stood silent. He hadn't shown the results of his trivial yet burdensome work. Yet. Despite of the gathering rain, there were few bystanders willing to see the man who dared to dispute with the demon quartermaster. Known for his nefarious demeanor, he usually doesn't take lightly any move against his iron will. An average human would be reduced to pile of mangled meat and bones, should he say something against the demon. And yet there he was - a muscular one-eyed man that was just one head shorter but otherwise comparable to the quartermaster. Among the crowd there were mostly living beings: the undead were not interested in such conflicts. Tobruk wiped off the sweat out of his forehead and put aside his axe. Then he reached out for the second one - the one tool worthy of nineteen metal pieces, as the blacksmith would suggest. Though the hatchet had already been cooled down, Tobruk could still imagine the warmth of the furnace, circulating across the blade and dispersing into a harsh wood. The new tool in the hands of master would be always felt differently than the worn one. As Tobruk had readjusted the grip onto axe handle, he rose it above the damaged log with a short "Hhhha!" swung it downwards. KKRRAAACK!!! Two sides of wood flew away from where the axe had landed. Aside from uneven crack left before, there was a near-perfect cut, smooth as ice. People around the tiny square couldn't hold their amusement before the blacksmith and his craft. Only the quartermaster's face had been left emotionless, though one could notice that the corner of his wide lips had raised for a moment. "Cheap tricks!" - he muffled. - "It's obvious you hit it with full force with the same damned axe." "My deepest apologies, sir". - Tobruk responded. - "But they ARE different." "Hmph... You better watch this." - The demon grabbed an old axe and a space log. He squeezed the handle until the wood started to splinter loudly then he swung the axe down upon the log. The wood instantaneously fell into chip spreading across the circle and forcing the audience to step back. "And that's how it's done!" - the quartermaster exclaimed, pompous and full of pride, which was natural for his kin. The audience move its gaze on Tobruk with awe. One careless word - and his skull would be chopped in half next. At some extent, Tobruk understood that too. The quartermaster's sheer strength shouldn't be underestimated. But the effort Tobruk made to lighten the people's burden must be justified... by the people themselves. He was doing this for the sake of the common cause, after all. "Truth be told, sir..." - the blacksmith spoke. - "With your undisputed might you could handle with this tool. But what about them?" - He moved his arm around, pointing at the audience. - "They are obviously deprived of such trait." Then he waved at the man in the crowd, calling him to come to the middle. A confused man in worker robe cautiously stepped forward, while skewing at quartermaster's massive figure. “Let him give it a try.” - Tobruk spoke and lend his hand holding a sharpened axe. - “We always give an opportunity to the willing.” The demon’s eyes squinted at the worker who was just a regular meatbag to him. Whatever jape that hairy barbarian came up with, it was definitely made to bore quartermaster to death. “Just do your thing, peasant.” - he grumbled at a worker. By the time the man grabbed Tobruk’s axe with his hands shaking, a gathering rain had finally fallen down upon the camp. People left uncovered shriveled up under the watery stream. The quartermaster, intolerant to any form of water element, shuddered and let out a few curses, wishing for this spectacle to end. Tobruk alone did not complain about the change of weather. After spending hours near furnace, the night rain gave more than the night itself. The blacksmith closed his eyes and felt himself transcending above the real world he was in. Former worries and eerie assumptions had been washed away. All he could feel were the coldness of the rain and the sound of fine metal slicing through the wood. “...Interesting.” - a distorted voice came from far, far away. - “Such a puny man, but the result… You’ve certainly impressed me with your craft, human.” “BUT!!!” - deep demonic voice drove Tobruk’s line of thought into the harsh material plane. - “There is only one axe, and I asked for twenty. Therefore, you failed with your task. And when someone does fail...” The quartermaster’s face stretched out in creepy smile. Those bystanders that happened to witness demon’s judgement knew what was coming next. “But the metal you gave me...” - Tobruk parried without hesitation. - “I couldn’t make more good axes with a metal so poor… Therefore, as much as I hate it to say, this is your fault as we-- But before Tobruk could finish his sentence, a huge fist rushing toward him was burnt into his conscious right before it went to nothingness...
  20. 2 points
    Fair enough. Thought though, new plot idea, maybe Ellen is conducting research near the city on a rogue spirit, and someone points Berkant to her. He interrupts her and she flubs the spell, causing the problem in the first place. The rogue spirit flees to Doughton and wreaks havoc and the two have to work together to contain it. Kind of an ironic, self-fulfilling prophecy kind of thing. If Berkant hadn't interrupted Ellen, the quest never would have occurred, but also the two never would have met. Maybe fate and oracles working in their tricky way. I dunno, just an idea.
  21. 2 points
    Perfect - as for how they meet up I find that quite simple. Berkant is from a tribe, what do tribesman do when problems are afoot? They tell everyone. He is just going to walk into Dougton and start telling people, literally anyone - that the Oracle told him Dougton is in danger. He has no way to know that isn't normal or the right thing to do. He'll probably also ask about strange mages - your character is a stranger and a mage.
  22. 2 points
    My character is a hunter gatherer tribesman turned adventurer, he is fairly unlikely to be able to pay. Also - due to the nature of how he acquired this quest, it will be playing out in an order in which the authorities won't be offering it as a quest for reward, but instead Berkant and crew will be reacting to it almost as it happens or even potentially before. I figure assuming Prest does join up your character could get involved just because he is in the area - but as for directly hiring him that is out of the scope of my character currently.
  23. 2 points
    I, on the other hand, offer my character, Jack The Eyeless, as a hunting companion. He happens to be stuck in Dougton for a while, so he might help hunting down the beast... for a reasonable price, of course. He also has a wolfbot as a pet, but its presense in the party may not be mandatory.
  24. 2 points

    Winter Wonderland

    Will have a post for Lunara tonight! Self-musing: Should I bring Elisha into this? I haven't used her ever since she'd been turned by Raphael.. hmmm..
  25. 2 points
    Hey there Berkant! I said hi already, but I'd like to echo the greeting again! Along with that, I'm offering my character Ellen to join Berkant in his quest. She's already in Doughton, but she might be leaving town when she runs into Berkant. She'd take any recommendation from the oracle seriously, and would certainly be willing to help out, for curiosity's sake if nothing else. She might not exactly be the type of character your looking for to RP with Berkant, and I understand if that's the case, but if you are willing than just let me know. Either way, looking forward to hearing your response!
  26. 2 points
    With a subtle nod, Walker would prepared two wide scale spells of the abjuration school however keeping one of them on hold. Weaving the patterns of the bulwark within the arcane flow that resides around them. Creating a vast matrix mentally into a grand magical array that would bolster with arcane power. "Greater Mana Ward." He would say calmly with a honeyed voice. In a flash, an hexagon crystal-lattice made of condensed arcane energy along with runes of protection against major level spells and cantrips as well as a vast pool to tank concussive blows that would put any normal man to death. Each ward would affect the whole party and lasting an hour and thirty minutes. His subtle body burning with magical power and ready for the task at hand. Reaching behind him, Walker would pull two objects from his pouch. one ring, and a sort of bracelet each item having a very dense magical aura. Slipping the first ring on his finger, which appears to be black with the blue of the late night sky. The ring seems to consist of hilt-less sword blades in a circular formation each fixed with a number of runic glyph on each of the six blades, a fairly large ring with only a singular gem at the epicenter of one blade aspect. The other item is a cerulean and silvery bangle, with the appearance of gilded shields, heavily warded on all three on the shield boss. "Let's do this thing." Walker said with the utmost confidence and gung ho.
  27. 2 points

    Happy Birthday to me.

    Happy Birthday to me.
  28. 2 points
    Student? Whoever said 'student'? That invitation went out to everyone. In the world.
  29. 2 points
    Ok, so, I got a really rough sketch-in for my character and got her enrolled in the Academy, but I've run out of time tonight! Nooooo! I will have a post up tomorrow, I promise!
  30. 2 points


    All along, man's greatest weapon has always been the source of creation. There was no need for all this arcane and machinery. We try our hardest to outsmart mother nature. But in the end, Gaia always triumphs. - Crow Basics Name: Drake Uldaran Sobriquet: Crow Age: 34 Alignment: Neutral Benign Gender: Male Race: Human Relationships Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Relationship Status: Single Known Family Chris Uldaran | Father | Deceased India Shadowsong | Mother | Deceased Richard Uldaran | Brother | Deceased Appearance Height: 176cm Weight: 75kg Hair: Brown Eyes: Hazel There is no one thing that stands out about Crow. One could skim across his figure, notice the calluses on his fists, the roughness of his skin, the scar below his right eye, and remember none of it. There's so much to him, that there's nothing to him. His cheekbones are high and the structure of his face is sharp. Coupled with his muscular and toned body, he is quite the epitome of the human specimen. His eyes are sharp and angular, allowing him to perform a cold and unnerving "death stare". Personality One would struggle to get this man to open himself up. But for those few that have tried and the fewer that have succeeded, they would immediately have noticed his cynical behavior towards all that try to get close to him. He is an overly cautious man with a strong distaste for impracticality. He has a history of being dishonest when his dishonesty is justified, as well as a tendency to be insincere. However, he has a strong sense of righteousness and justice, although he never really involves others in his plans. Sometimes, his overconfidence gets the better of him, and he readily assumes that he’s correct most of the time. He has a tendency to regard his opinion as the morally superior one, due to his past of upholding justice at any cost. Equipment Cloak "Dissipati Peribunt" The cloak of vanishing is a fabric made from ultrafine L.R.I, allowing it to be almost completely transparent, apart from the swishing of the cloak that sometimes changes the refractive index of the objects behind it. When Crow covers his entire body with the cloak and stands completely still, he will become transparent along with the cloak, allowing him to blend in with his surroundings. However, the slightest movement given off will cause a ripple in the cloak. The refractive index change caused by the ripple is easily detectable by a sharp eye. Spear "Mortem" Mortem translates into death, which is often misinterpreted as bringing death to the enemy. Rather, it brings death to energy, whether it be magical, kinetic, or sound. Mortem's sharp purple tip is made from Auryl crystals. Upon wounding a magic user, the spear begins to sap the magical energy from the caster, converting it to heat energy which causes the spearhead to be able to inflict severe burns. The tip is mounted on a 6ft mokume-gane shaft, which is able to withstand high amounts of heat energy that comes from the tip, as well as being resilient against impact. Nth Claymore The Nth Claymore is forged from Nth, which can be inferred from the title. This causes the 4ft weapon to be very light and easy to swing, although that does compromise some of the crushing damage that can be caused by its momentum. Abilities Minor Regeneration Factor Given sufficient periods of recuperation, Crow is able to regrow entire lost limbs and recover from what should be a fatal injury. This is provided that he his primary organ (his heart) is still up and pumping. Even if he is to lose most of his body including his head, he is able to grow it back provided that his heart is still intact. However, without his heart, he cannot regenerate. Avian Telepathy His God-given gift and the source of his Sobriquet, Crow has an additional sensory organ that allows him to share the same communication channels that birds use to communicate. The one drawback to this is that most birds lack the intelligence to reply effectively, whilst most of the more intelligent birds like eagles and hawks are too defiant to cooperate. He has found that the most responsive birds are the crows, as they are intelligent and numerous enough to perform complicated tasks in exchange for the promise of food and water. Techniques Mortem "Iron Stance" Crow stabs the tip of his spear into the ground, gripping it tightly. This stance allows him to keep his footing through a torrent of non-physical knockback attacks. Summoning Whistle Crow calls forth one of his animal companions. Crow Avatar Crow calls upon a fraction of his flock, which begins to circle around him. The swirling creates an upward motion, sufficient to lift Crow off the ground. Once in the air, the flock continues to spiral around him, forming the avatar of a giant black bird. In this form, Crow is able to project beams of purple energy from the mouth of his avatar, using the tip of his spear to generate the mana to do so. The avatar is also extremely strong, able to tear buildings apart just by crashing into them. The crows appear to absorb shock much better when packed together closely. However, they are still animals and will fall victim to that of which a normal crow would. Animal Companions Horse "Red Rabbit" Red Rabbit is an Arazura racehorse that was freed from an illegal horse race betting den in Genesaris. It is 7 feet tall and weighs 2400 lbs. Its skin is reddish brown, hence where it gets half of its name. The name "rabbit" was given to it because if its incredible jump height of 3 meters, as well as its ability to leap across 10 meter wide rivers without touching the water. It has the stamina to run at a consistent pace of 80km/h for 3 days without stopping for food, water or rest. The Flock The Flock is a legion of crows, population currently almost 3000. Crow travels around with at most 300 of them at a time. They are able to perform many types of tasks, such as message delivery, giving of signals, and ravaging enemies.
  31. 2 points
    @Metty Blind, sightless wide eyes remain fixed in the general direction of 'forward' while their wielder uses his other senses, both physical and otherworldly, to scan the room before him. The person in question wears a lightweave kimono with red-and-white african prints, underneath which is a black round-neck shirt and white trousers. The wearer of these rather strange clothes is a rather effeminate young male, his snow white hair in a short bobcut, fangs peeking out of his currently-smiling lips. He normally wouldn't smile so widely, even with the festive period, but his long-lost half-sister next to him feeling excited to be here and even more excited to be surrounded by snow brings the rather uncharacteristically big smile to his lips. Shortly after their reunion, Arashi had invited him to this event, Adaba knows how far away from Terrenus, and wanting every chance to spend more time with her, he'd agreed. That was scarcely the only reason, though. Chioto Oum, the main ambassador of Ash'eh, had decided to stay behind and help Ash'eh with their own Harmattan Festival, with a promise to be there were he able and a plea to Renji to go in his stead. The corporate scout-for-hire was only too happy to accept. And speaking of the snow! The black young bloodkin is glad he's here to 'see' the snow, a phenomenon of nature scarcely seen in his home city's tropical weather, though his excitement is more subdued than his sister's, merely bending down to pick up a bit and feel the frosted flakes run between his fingers. "Fascinating, indeed." Every bit as fascinating as the myriad of races and species present in this party. The older of the two turns to his younger sister. "Arashi. I will be people-watching until de Queen arrives. Have fun, dear sister." Despite himself, though, he can't help but stand in place for a bit, smiling at the sight of his sister thoroughly enjoying the snow. The blind electrokinetic 20-year old finally turns away, making his way through the crowd like someone who wasn't born blind, his head facing one general direction while his other senses did the work of 'seeing' for him, granting him 360-degree vision within range. His request for some hot tea quickly obliged, Renji makes his way towards one of the festively-decorated columns, hoping to quietly watch the proceedings. @Deus Ex Aizen To be entirely accurate, Renji has another reason for choosing the particular column he chose to lean against while people-watching: he'd sensed a lady nearby, one whose tiredness and weariness was very clear to him. He of all people knows what it's like to feel so tired, in his own case due in no small part to his years-long battle with his inner evil self, a persona which had just recently been extinguished. Her weariness and need for rest, one he can relate with, is the reason why he's decided to go share her column, leaning on one of the adjacent sides, mug in hand. With his blindsight, he scarcely needs to face the hall to see, after all. "You stand like one with de weight of de world on her shoulders." He begins, by way of conversation. "Almost like you recently escaped death. I know de feeling." After taking a sip of tea, he offers her his hand. "They call me Renji, I am from Ash'eh, Terrenus. You?"
  32. 2 points

    Winter Wonderland

    I’ve returned. Posts pending.
  33. 2 points
    “I suppose Uncle thinks this should be a good chance at gaining some experience.” He said quietly, opal eyes scanned the paper in his hand. It dictated his orders to join the group seeking to hunt the Wyrm, and to protect Southern assets. This made sure that none of them were spies, and not to allow the creature to leave the region alive so as not to be used as a weapon. Pretty simple, thorough even, with other suggestions penned in. The rest was left to his discretion. A lot of trust, rare given the usually direct and heavy handed nature of Neronius. Either way someone representing the Cold South needed to take part, if only for political reasons. Normally a Legion would have been sent out, split into multiple hunting parties, and then flush the beast out into the open. Sadly that option was not on the table. The rise of beast attacks had been steady, and with the borders needing to be watched, there was little resources that could be spared. Regardless the threat could not be ignored. Using his authority in TESA, Nero had chosen his nephew to take on the multifaceted task. The name Melisende carried weight, and allowing Renovatio to also take part in it kept the military relationship fresh. It also helped that he was adamant in being chosen. Eager to prove himself a capable Bravada, and killing a Wyrm would be a nice achievement and stepping stone to Galaxy class. Something caught his notice, a distinct scent on the cold crisp air. The scent of burning wood, of smoke. A fire? His attention turned to the direction he was headed, where the call for would-be hunters to gather originated. Not good. The smell was much too strong to be chimney smoke, and there was the distinct tinge of burning flesh just beneath the surface. Not good at all. He ignited the letter, red-gold flames devouring the paper hungrily, and released it to fall. He grabbed the large, obviously two-handed blade that stood sheathed, leaning against the tree beside him. Whatever was going on, he was beginning to get the feeling that it might be related to the Wyrm. His gut instinct was usually right. Asher set off at a jog, his Renovatian magitek armor allowing him to plow through the snow with relative ease. He could see the smoke now, the orange glow of fire, the sputtering flash of embers as the flared and died during their ascension. It was no normal fire, the heat was too intense, felt even from this distance. It wasn't long before his suspicion was confirmed. IceStone tavern was aflame, the roof gone and the walls toppled inward, as if crushed. No fire caused that. He rushed forward after slamming the sheathed blade into the ground, the sounds of shouting and screams signaling that there were some survivors. At least some could be saved, though he had no doubt that many had already died in the initial attack. Immediately he made his way to what had been the entrance, barred now by the debris of a collapsed roof. Gauntleted hands heaved and pushed it out of the way, using his own natural strength, supplemented by his armor he made as short work of it as he could. “Hey! If anyone is still alive try to get to the door quickly, I can clear a path.” But for how long? Asher guessed he would soon find out. He seeded his senses into the flames, felt their deep hatred and need to consume. Its resistance. Whatever had created this fire was strong, and full of rage. At last he subjugated enough of the flames to split a path leading from the center of the tavern. “Hurry!” He shouted against the heat and roaring fire.
  34. 2 points

    Hai hai I'm a new guy

    Thanks, I'm every much enjoying the RP opportunities that I'm getting. @Prestississimo
  35. 2 points


    @Prestississimo, he already has! Literally after being on the site for only two hours, this guy's great!
  36. 2 points

    Hai hai I'm a new guy

    Hey there JaviD'Arcana, sorry for the lateness of this greeting, but welcome to the site! It looks like you've already jumped into things, and supernal's already lent a helping hand, so I can't offer much more than greetings, but I hope you'll accept them all the same. I hope you enjoy your time here on Valucre, and I look forward to seeing what you add to this amazing world we all share!
  37. 2 points
    Mickey Flash

    OOC Queen's Party

    No matter that I felt like writing. Been super busy, and watched as kids' desktops were set up. They got them for Christmas. Is it crazy that I have three desktop computers, and three laptops in my small two bedroom apartment atm? I'll try again tomorrow.
  38. 2 points
    All right! Time to dust off the old fingers and actually get around to being a productive member! (Having failed to do so for who knows how long, endless apologies.) Looking forward to making this a fully-fledged official club!
  39. 2 points

    Oh, hi. I missed you all.

    Oh, hi. I missed you all.
  40. 2 points
    Summary post for purposes of canonization (No necro I swear!) Long Summary: The Aria and her crew spend a tumultuous afternoon evading capture by Terran authorities after a failed raid on a shipping convoy. To escape the persistent military vessels, the captain, Cecil Duer orders the pilot, Duke, to fly the Aria into a growing storm-front. With the help of their lookout, Claire Revauld, the pilot brought them safely through the stormy skies into the eye of the storm. However, once there, the crew find that they are not alone. A great leviathan is prowling the eye of the storm, a massive serpent that owns the sky. The magnificent creature ignores them, at first, but the crew comes up with a daring plan. Using Claire's magic, they draw the serpent's attention, and then Duke pilots the ship out of the storm, right into the pursuing Terran military. The serpent engages the Terran ships, and the Aria uses the confusion to slip away, ready to loot and plunder another day. Short Summary: Pirate ship evades capture by Terran military by flying into a storm and awakening the ire of a magical beast inside the maelstrom. This leviathan pursued the pirate vessel out of the storm, and the villains used the creature to distract the vessels pursuing them, fleeing in a manner most cowardly while the brave Terran military engaged the massive creature in pitched battle. Notable Consequences: Unknown to the Aria's crew, the leviathan escaped the battle with the military, wounded, but still very much alive. In fact, this encounter has enraged the beast, and it has taken to preying on any airships and sea vessels that it finds in it's territory over the Southern Sea. The military is attempting to hunt it down, but it remains difficult to engage unless it thinks it can win the resultant conflict. As a result, traveling by sea or air in the Southern Sea is a risky proposition right now. Between heightened military presence and the omnipresent threat of the leviathan, traffic both official and unofficial is extremely dangerous. These perils have affected Casper harshly, making goods harder to acquire in the city as merchants remain apprehensive about using sea and air routes to make deliveries to the coastal port. Additionally, the Terran military has expressed interest in information pertaining to the Pirate Vessel known as the Aria. Anyone with details is encouraged to come forward. Opportunities: First and foremost, the leviathan has to go. It's terrorizing shipping and making in incredible nuisance of itself. This is no vermin, however. The leviathan is huge in size, five to six times longer than the average airship and almost as wide. It is known to posses a powerful freezing breath, and is thought to be able to generate sizable storms. Dealing with the beast would almost certainly be a Class A difficulty quest, not to be undertaken lightly. Additionally, goods in Casper are growing more expensive as time wears on, and while this is hard on the inhabitants, it does present an opportunity to any enterprising merchants looking to make a quick buck, or any traders willing to brave the dangers of the waters around the city to make a delivery.
  41. 1 point

    Updates: Canon & General

    Update to southern sea "Consequence" is a new addition not just to the update thread but to the canon process, so members can expect to see these integrated and announced more explicitly going forward
  42. 1 point
    Sounds good Berkant! I think in the immediate sense Ellen would fail to find the traveling nomad particularly interesting, no offense, just the way her character is written, but if she caught hint that something powered by fate or magic was afoot she'd be on it instantly. So, how would you propose our two characters meet up? I don't have any immediate ideas, but I'm certainly willing to brainstorm. I could come back with some thoughts in a couple of hours if you don't have anything right up your sleeve. Also she'd definitely be willing to write him a recommendation, depending on how all of this goes down. She'd probably even travel with him there. I was having Ellen head to the Academy soon anyway. Hoping that I can drum up some interest in some guest lectures.
  43. 1 point
    The bard was not the only one who was alerted by the distress call. Crow mounted his reddish brown steed in a hurry, forgetting completely about the game of darts that he had been challenged to. The man was a cheater anyways. Snatching up his 6 ft long spear, "Mortem", that rested against a barrel, he swiftly made his way to the site of the raging battle. But as he drew near to the fight, the things that he saw caused him to hesitate. A woman lying badly wounded on the ground screamed to the high heavens as she slowly bled out. Half her body was gone, there was no saving her. Crow rode on. Next he passed a dwarf being pushed backwards by a dragon of some sorts that was able to stand on two legs. At this rate of mindless evolution, soon horses would be trotting around on two legs as well. Barely batting an eye, he leapt off of the his steed, slamming the dragon in the torso with a powerful horizontal kick. He rolled and pushed himself back to his feet, leveling his spear as the dragon shuffled back in confusion. In the corner of his eye, Crow saw the terrified patron taking advantage of the confusion and scrambling away. He sighed to himself. He recalled all the times that he had saved someone not knowing that they would dip out the first chance they got. Suddenly, he was thrown backwards by a blow that he barely blocked with the shaft of his spear. He shoved Mortem into the ground, steadying himself. His thoughts had distracted him. Again. The dragon wielded a spear that was much longer than his own. It thrust the spearhead at him, an attempt to skewer Crow in the abdomen. He sidestepped it skillfully, leaving Mortem still embedded in the ground. Overextension and oversight were two things that could not be compromised on. And this reckless attack by the dragon would cost it its weapon. Crow unsheathed his claymore and grabbed hold of his adversary's spear, before slicing through the shaft as if it was made of paper. The dragon pushed forward in confusion, shocked by the loss of his weapon. Crow followed up immediately, slashing the claymore into the dragons side. It did less damage than a pebble would against a brick wall. Crow grit his teeth. The dragon's armored scales were much too strong for his sword to penetrate. It reared up and unleashed a powerful wind blast that knocked Crow backwards. Lunging forward, it clawed at his wrists, trying to disarm the ranger. For a moment, they grappled with each other, before Crow deftly released his blade, ducking under the dragon's swiping claws and rolling back a mere metre where his spear still stood. He wrenched the spear out from the ground and shoved it deep into the soft underbelly of the dragon. Whatever sense of victory the beast had from claiming Crow's claymore was now lost. It backed up quickly, tearing itself free of the spear, but leaving a bloody gash in the middle of its stomach. Rearing up with its chest high, it brought its wings down along its sides defensively and roared. Crow backed up, whistling sharply. Amid the chaos, his reddish brown horse dashed past the battling warriors and took its place beside him. He leapt atop and straddled it, raising his spear in a defensive stance against the dragon, daring the beast to run itself through onto his wicked blade. (1.5/3 to a Dragonkin Cultist)
  44. 1 point
    Bohemian Eagle

    [OLD] Revelations Over Catnip Tea

    Arashi's disappointment is mirrored in Renji's own face. He had never forgotten her, yet she had forgotten him. That was to be expected, what with the trauma she'd had to go through. That doesn't make it hurt any less, but seeing as he's also had his own share of trauma, he could understand, and says as much. "It's understandable you don't remember, what with de trauma you had to experience. I had my own share, I saw my father get murdered and it affected me. I scarcely remember those days, even the things I did..." His voice is somber as he says this, keeping quiet afterwards to stir his tea some more. Slowly, his dark-skinned hand stretches forward to rest atop her fair-skinned own, a smile starting to form on his lips. "Chin up, little sis, dis is cause for celebration, for we are reunited. We can start making up for lost time. First, pull your chair closer, let me hug you for de first time in years." And he'll indeed give her a big hug, should she move closer. "So what is de first tin you remember? Your first memory ever?"
  45. 1 point

    Taen HQ

    You don't get a badass name like the Reaper In The Dark by collecting bottle caps, lol. Seriously though, if I went too far, I can go and rewrite it.
  46. 1 point
    Pasion Pasiva

    -=Walking in a Winter Wonderland=-

    Vivian Alazar’s laughter broke the spell of her sour mood. Whatever this ridiculous circus ended up being or becoming, so long as she was there with him -- what did it matter? There were always moments when she was utterly overwhelmed by the realization that somehow they had beaten unimaginable odds and found a way to be happy together. In a world filled with so much turmoil, tragedy, and drama something as simple as a happy ending seemed like a total impossibility. She had only to look at her creator to know how blessed she was, and in short she still felt a heavy debt was owed to Gabriela for everything that had happened. Three centuries ago when she was no one and nothing she couldn’t have dreamed of happiness, but here she was -- hand in hand with a creature she would have never met if not for the Black Queen of Orisia. That woman deserved her happy ending, Vivian thought though the slight frown upon her face did little to express the deeply empathetic feelings she was suffering through. “But my love, some of us would love to see that part of you.” “I’d love to see your reaction to another man enjoying the visage of my bottom,” Vivian replied with a teasing smirk that stretched her thin lips into a sensual expression. They had been married for a little over a year now, but she still had the same appetites for him as always and the sight of his muscled legs bulging against his tailored trousers as he bent to gather the snow she had asked for made a certain hunger stirr in her soul. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit, and was the perfect embodiment of elegance and counterbalance to her more crude sexual appearance. “Although I might do just about anything to make you break a sweat, darling.” Her smirk melted into a grin as she kicked a little snow in his direction. “You don’t plan to throw this at our dear Queen, do you?” He kissed her cheek and she took the opportunity to steal the snowball. “Am I that transparent? Have I become so predictable…” she turned away from him and glanced toward the throne. “Of course I plan on hitting her with it. All the shit she’s put us through this past year alone surely justifies my desire to ruffle her feathers. No?”
  47. 1 point

    Winter Wonderland

    Bring whatever ya want compadre. I'm ready.
  48. 1 point
    ╔═════════════════════════════════╗ Terric Torqhril Nomands ╚═════════════════════════════════╝ The Terric Torqhril are a nomadic tribe migrating from the Badlands to Shawnee Glacier, with most of their time spent in the Wasteland. With total population numbers under sixty individuals they are a dying culture and ethnicity, and have recently begun a mass exodus of the young - sending them out into Terrenus proper as they come of age in hopes of allowing their children a future, even if the tribe itself will soon be no more. ╔═════════════════════════════════╗ Culture ╚═════════════════════════════════╝ A hunter gatherer society the people are calm, loving and deeply familial - the children never leave their parents, and family groups sleep in the same temporary structures. The steadily declining numbers of the tribe has resulted in the Torqhril beginning to separate the family structure key to their culture, sending the children away from the tribe as soon as they are considered capable of self sufficiency. This varies by individual, but is usually between 18 and 20 years of age - during that time the children are taught staff fighting and survival skills, and given a limited overview of the world beyond the tribe. As the Torqhril keep no written history and tell no tales of their past it is unknown even to the current members what the history of the tribe is - some hints can be gained from their traditions of right of passage, clothing style and other such quirks. Religiously the Turqhril are nature spiritualists, believing the world itself a deity in the literal sense; that the planet itself is a massive God which they live upon, gaining from its bounty life. They bury their dead, returning them to God in the literal sense - they do not mourn, and a death in the tribe is treated as joyous occasion, where the group tells tales of the deceased; oft exaggerated, and then feast. When they awake the next morning the deceased is never mentioned again. All children at 13 must join forces and cross from the Wasteland through the Badlands to the coast where a suitable piece of driftwood is gathered and returned to the tribe where then the entire tribe takes the children on a Suujali hunt - after killing the Suujali the driftwood is coated in the mucus of the dead beast and left to 'cure' in the harsh sun, where it becomes a flexible staff as durable as steel. These stave are the only weapons the culture seems to employ, using them for hunting, self defense and as simple tools. Lifespan of a Torqhril is fairly short, around forty years on average - death is normally due to food shortage or unusually harsh weather. As simply an ethnicity of humans it is believed they could live as long as any other human given proper medical care and environment. The Torqhril have shown no magical abilities of any kind, and have no traditions of any kind that hint that they have had any such abilities at any point in their past. As warriors their staff techniques are highly advanced, with many techniques focused on fighting men despite the Torqhril having no direct competitor in environment and limited to no internal conflicts. This hints to a culture of warriors when Terrenus was filled with nomadic tribes, and other cultures do have ancient stories of war with a tribe resembling the Torqhril. Their is some evidence to suggest the Torqhril were once a civilized culture that regressed to a hunter gatherer society, but academic debate rages on the validity of this theory. In terms of naming convention the Torqhril are unique - giving the children both a masculine and feminine name before their birth; once born their gender decides which of the two becomes their first name and which becomes their middle, their sur name is then decided at adulthood by their 'profession' within the tribe; with all current generation children being Derviş, Torqhril for 'Last'. Due to their limited number and recent decisions, the current surviving members of the Terric Torqhril are believed to be the last that will ever be seen - a defunct culture in its final moments. ╔═════════════════════════════════╗ Tradition ╚═════════════════════════════════╝ Baston: A traditional Torqhril staff made of drift wood found on the coasts north of the Badlands, these rough stave are acquired by young men and women of the Torqhril as a right of passage to adulthood, requiring a cooperative journey of all children of age across the Badlands to the shores. A combination of weapon and walking stick the Baston are coated in the mucus of the Suujali which seeps into the porous wood and strengths the wood to greater then that of steel without removing its flexibility. Attire: Traditional Torqhril clothing made of hundreds of thousands of thin strands of the 'body' Nova-Burst Cacti that has been soaked in a mixture of boiled animal fat and blood and then dyed with pigment acquired from various plant life. The interior is then padded with fur or feather from small game. Highly protective against sun rays and insulating the Torqhril wear these clothing from the Badlands to Shawnee Glacier, the unusual thermal qualities of the fiber allowing it to adapt and constrict or become porous depending on the weather. Due to the harsh sun of the region the clothing tends toward baggy in an effort to cover and protect every inch of skin. Decoration and adornment is a sign of a mother's love, as all clothing is handmade - the more elaborate the more care went into each piece. Manşet: A series of varying colored bone bracelets the manşet are Torqhril identifying symbols worn exclusively on the right arm. Used as a means for Torqhril to identify one another if they have left the tribe the color pattern of the bracelets are a sort of 'code' allowing one to know at a glance many things, from marital status to how long they have been away from the tribe. Boynuz: A pair of large animal horns deeply woven to the hair of people of the Torqhril tribe, these horns are memorial to ones parents - worn for life. As ones hair grows it is woven into the horn further, as a result Torqhril people never cut their hair, instead weaving the excess into the ring of the horns. Should ones hair get too long a larger ring is fixed to the horn and the hair woven back into it. The horns size and origin vary from person to person, often passed down for generations. Bag: A simple leather shoulder slung pack, large enough to hold a waterskin, a sleeping mat and various other things. It is the only thing Torqhril people carry, and it is said that if it cannot be carried in the bag or on the person it was not ones possession at all. ╔═════════════════════════════════╗ Members ╚═════════════════════════════════╝ 1. Berkant Aydin Derviş
  49. 1 point

    Taen HQ

    And so, from the shadows, a man; nay, a poor soul, walked amongst friends again with only one thing to say. Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry about my unannounced hiatus.
  50. 1 point
    A Reminder: Please adhere to the elimination rates of the creatures. It paces out the events and keeps things from getting out of hand. Thank you. Lonely Night’s Hand’s magic crackles around him. He lowers his base and then charges forth, tearing through a dragon-kin like his blades were hot and making their way through a brick of butter. He spins around and kicks up a wave of darkness, which surrounds his blades, sucking in the light around him. The man becomes progressively harder to see. Vaddock lobs a swirling ball of plasma through into a Kapak, taking it down and two Kobolds unlucky enough to have set up post beneath its flight. The smoldering corpse takes out the weak infantry. Levhea is cutting her way through a mess of Kobolds trying to surge past. She takes down six with terrifying speed, despite wielding a blade nearly as tall as the woman herself. Gallen raises his staff towards the sky and calls down a bolt of lightning, striking a Kapak and reducing it to ash. The patrons band together and work on taking down some heavy numbers. Between them all, they pull down two dragonkin, a Kapak, and four kobolds. The first twenty-four hours has passed. The cycling of rounds by 24 hours or when all participants have posted begins. I have posted. Once MDTD, SevenShootingStars, and Pickled have posted, a new round starts and people are free to post again. I will be doing my best to post more than once every 24 hours. Kills as of this post: Kobolds: 15 Kapak: 6 Dragon-Kin: 3 1/2
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