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Showing content with the highest reputation on 08/25/2018 in all areas

  1. 8 points
    Almost ready to start folks. Just tidying up some logistics and we should be able to get this thing started today or tomorrow. Looking forward to establishing Illyria with the horrors that are coming.
  2. 8 points

    Varda Hildebrand

    VARDA HILDEBRAND the lights go out, i am all alone; all the trees outside are buried in the snow ♦ ► R O O T S age: 33 race: human occupation: lady headship of house hildebrand birthplace: ursa madeum chosen flower: white rose [ purity, innocence, sympathy ] ► S T E M S height: 5’9” weight: 142 lbs gender: female hair: light brown eyes: glassy grey, sometimes ice blue in the right light voice: smooth and soft-spoken note: looks younger than actual age; it’s all in the genes ► F L O W E R S temperament: melancholic alignment: lawful good traits: a child at heart, shy, genuine, gullible, somewhat ignorant, kind likes: warm soil, seeds, and summer showers dislikes: socializing, politics, and immoral acts ► L E A V E S skills; ♦ managing the house ♦ proper etiquette, befitting a noble ♦ horseback riding ♦ gardening ♦ extensive agricultural knowledge ♦ extensive plant knowledge ► F R U I T S relationships; ♦ jasper ♥♥♥♥ ♦ aspen ♥♥♥♥♥ ♦ nairne ♥♥♥♥♥ ♦ esme ♥♥♥♥♥ ♦ merel ♥♥♥♥♥ ♦ kalika ♥♥♥ ♦ suri ♥♥♥♥ ► S E E D S threads; ♦ the blood we share ♦ the spokes of a crown ♦ a rose grows in concrete [dali] ♦ a.n.t. main thread 1: the arrivals ♦ a.n.t. main thread 2: the treaty of 597 ♦ a funeral with no tears [pluto x hildebrand] ♦ nothing comes from nothing [tankred] ♦ ah, me? ♦ courtesy visit ♦ penumbra ♦ 'tis the golden hour ♦ contemporary movement ♦ the reverie ball ♦ more lands 'till sheathe happens "if these are the cards fate has dealt me, then so be it."
  3. 5 points
    I'm speaking more from the overall Valucre perspective since the scope appears to be applying to the world and not just this nation The fundamental assumption as I see it s one deeply rooted in real world development of industry and technology. Although the more industrialized nations have some benefit in tech and magi-tech, they're also much more massive in terms of area to cover and number of people to address with that distance in mind. Orisia's La'Ruta constraint on technical development makes it so that even if industrial tech existed, you can't bring them in to Orisia (if for example they have a lucrative mineral to mine their low tech methods may be the best regardless of what's actually available outside) and depending on what it is these industrial means are producing, the byproducts may be inadmissible as well This is not withstanding the ability of non-tech magic to able to keep pace with or even outpace technological industry. A factory assembly can machine a car together pretty quickly but an alchemist in the vein of the Full Metal Alchemist lore might be able to make an equally complex machine on pace with larger or more industrialized nations. Notwithstanding that parity, like the ability of conjurers to actually fabricate physical material out of magic/energy/whatever, magic can also very easily be used to explain autarky the world over. Nations and kingdoms that can more easily resist having to join global standards if they simply don't want to (cultural or psychological or moral motivations) because they're able to address their own wants and needs without third party involvement. Orisia (or any kingdom, nation, etc) doesn't need to compete on the global stage to be successful or financially independent Everything about everything here is fictitious so not only is every problem fictional but every solution to it is fictional. The conceits are endless. The word I like to think applies best here here is verisimilitude, not realism. If people don't want to have to address things like tariffs, like me for example because BORING (to me), then that shouldn't be a problem and really so far it hasn't. It comes down to the stories people want to tell. If you (the general you and not the Alexandrian you) want to tell the story of tariffs the option is there for you to build your own kingdom and start using that, and maybe incorporate things like labor laws and interest rates or whatever else makes the story interesting for you
  4. 5 points

    Jasper Hildebrand

    JASPER HILDEBRAND will it save us from our sins? 'cause this house of mine stands strong ♦ ► R O O T S age: 32 race: human occupation: lord steward and bursar of house hildebrand birthplace: ursa madeum chosen flower: hollyhock [ majesty, fruitfulness, ambition ] ► S T E M S height: 6’1” weight: 167 lbs gender: male hair: silky black eyes: light brown, sometimes auburn in the right light voice: husky and lustrous note: looks younger than actual age; it’s all in the genes ► F L O W E R S temperament: choleric alignment: chaotic neutral traits: clever, devious, charismatic, arrogant, thoughtful, cruel likes: fine wine, numbers, and shiny things dislikes: heavy rain, mud, and getting his hands dirty ► L E A V E S skills; ♦ managing the house ♦ proper etiquette, befitting a noble ♦ politics and social etiquette ♦ horseback riding ♦ financial management and accountancy ♦ basic agricultural knowledge ♦ history ► F R U I T S relationships; ♦ varda ♥♥♥♥ ♦ aspen ♥♥♥ ♦ nairne ♥♥♥ ♦ esme ♥♥♥♥ ♦ merel ♥♥ ♦ kalika ♥♥♥♥♥ ♦ suri ♥♥♥♥♥ ► S E E D S threads; ♦ the blood we share ♦ the spokes of a crown ♦ roses red and cruel ♦ penumbra ♦ contemporary movement ♦ more lands till sheathe happens "all things come to those who wait, and ultimately take."
  5. 4 points
    You're absolutely right. From my experience people still prefer handcrafted goods than thsoe that are mass produced, but not every one can afford them. That is where I am going with Orisia as a whole -- a country that caters to more expensive demands. I always imagined it like a much more successful and better functioning Guatemala, the country I was born. Lots od tourism, lots of artisan markets, amazing produce (especially coffee). Magic is secondary, because it is increadibly new. A thing to remember is that La'Ruta was only recently awakened, maybe 4-3 years ago. People are still adjusting to it, prior to that high tech worked fine in Orisia. So as for very powerful magical items? There arent many, people haven't really started exploring the possibilities. But magical in a more raw state? Yes, thats absolutely available and probably moreso in Antigua, in the dragon cementary.
  6. 4 points
    Consider Orisia a producer of fine goods...fine organic produce, rare materials, thinngs that are very old world. For Antigua, I would say producr is secondarily to a rich lumber industry, and subsequently, artisan level furniture -- so lots of carpenters. Beyond that, the Orisian folks are not particularly magical. And while they are very much aware of high tech, especially since Genesaris has plenty of modern and futuristic settings, the people who inhabit Orisia do so out of a deep desire to belong to "the old world" think of them almost as Amish. As for the economics, orisia is absolutely bloated with outside money. Remember that the nation itself is only 5 years old and has not quite found its footing financially, so its currently very much financed by Gabriela's private BUT DWINDLING fortune.
  7. 4 points
    Depends on what the actual question is. I think I might have missed if this was more of a lore question overall or specific to this event since what is going to be occurring is out of the norm for Orisia and will likely change how Orisia as a whole deals with technology. Might bring the out of their 'renaissance' level of technology and bring them closer to the levels of ingenuity and innovation of the rest of Valucre...maybe. Either way, what I can definitely say about this specific event and Illyria going forward is that the synergy of magic and technology is important to its culture and that its arrival into what is Ceyana will permanently affect how La'Ruta operates in that region. So the restrictions La'Ruta usually imposed on technology brought into its 'bubble' are going to be diminished greatly during this event. I am basically allowing everything within reason so anything that has been seen in Genesaris or Terrenus gets a thumbs up minus the sat cannon level items or things that will not be conducive to the collaboration that I am looking for to get things rolling. Now I will leave @The Alexandrian to let me know if I need to dig deeper for an answer (if it pertains to this event or the landmass that is Ceyana) or defer to Pasion (if it has to do with already established Antigua lore and not a question of what is actually limited here)
  8. 4 points
    Hmm... The middle class didn't really develop until the industrial revolution, and until the industrial revolution, there wasn't much I'd consider industry. That opinion aside, I find it challenging to imagine a world in which such industrially disparate nations interact economically without corresponding economic disparity. For example, lets say it takes a certain number of hours to produce a mundane item with such-and-such equipment. Terrenus or technologically-advanced parts Genesaris can likely produce said item at a fraction of the time and cost it would take Orisia to do the same. Terrenus and Genesaris also have the advantage of mechanized means of production which translate directly into enhanced uniformity, specialization, and quality control. The tariffs required to level the playing field would be insane. I can only envision Orisia carving out niche markets for handmade items and exploiting La'Ruta to generate enchanted items to correct for this technological inequity because I can't picture them competing with Terrenus and Genesaris in most sectors. This is why I wish to know what is produced in Antigua. I would assume the city is a hub for powerful magical items if left to my own devices, but doing so in this case would be improper.
  9. 4 points
    She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t do this -- he couldn’t force the world to stop so that he could look into her eyes, take hold of her hand, squeeze her fingers, and whisper subtle threats close to her ear as he forced her to incline close to him with a slight but firm tug. All of the world could not be made to wait while he ensured that she was still with him, when they both knew, she had never been in the first place. What he had, he had purchased with force and gained through conquest. She was with him in so far as he held her agency bound to his will. But he knew that, so why was he asking her this silly question, and putting everything else on pause? The world would not stop for them, no matter how much force, will, or power he tried to use. Instead, it roll right by them, leaving them alone -- and they simply could not be left alone. “What are you doing?” Her gaze flickered toward the dragonic emperor. She smiled at him, even as she leaned closer to Roen, even as more poison-laced honeyed words poured from the devil’s mouth. She wanted to apologize and do what she could to save face, but she couldn’t risk revealing her distress, much less to a complete stranger. “These are friends we haven’t made yet, Irene. They will not love us if you banish them on my approach. After all, you would know best: I am not so bad, once you get to know me.” "Roen," she whispered back, "--stop it before you make a scene." It took just about every ounce of self control that she was still in position of to not pinch her brows, narrow her lids, and press her lips into a line. And then, satisfied with the fact that she was keeping up the appearances with her sweet smile that somehow did not shift or change upon her face, he had the audacity to take her glass and drink it back in a single gulp. It left her hands empty and made her feel naked. Did he intend to have her respond? Was he actually waiting for the sound of her voice… There was a look on his face as the bubbling liquid sloshed about the inside of his mouth, instantly warming simply upon contact of his hot tongue and his burning teeth. He looked so thoughtful in that moment, with his gaze turned toward the distant guests, and his brow firmly set upon a frown. Oddly enough, the waiter who had collected the empty glass seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, as if, almost -- he had been seeking out their attention. And now that he had the glass, he remained, looking pale and nervous as his brown eyes shifted from devil to vampyre, trying to decide which of the two he was going to risk infuriating with a necessary and dire interruption. She saw him and recognized the look. “One day I may need that man. One day I may need all the people in this room…I brought peace to Orisia. We’re on a path of prosperity, and we can bring that to this world. This is where we start, tonight. World peace. They aren’t my enemies - chaos is. Tonight we talk about putting an end to chaos, and I believe through me, we can achieve it. I need you to believe that, too.” Again she glanced at Koji, missing the sight of Roen’s crimson eyes -- narrowed upon her. An emperor from Genesaris, the mainlands of her continent, seemed like a dreadful ally to risk losing, and all for the sake of ensuring he put her in her place. There was an urge to tell Roen to shut up, to simply close his mouth and stand there looking pretty -- or at the very least, non threatening. But there was no silencing the devil, and it was up to her and her along to wear the sort of mask that might convince Koji not to turn and walk away, certain of an understanding of their relationship. They needed to look unified, and not like he was gearing up to dole out punishment because she abandoned her pursuit of, what she considered, to be an innocent man. “Roen,” she whispered his name. “I need you to help me convince them that my way is the right way, not send them off when I draw near. Teach them to love me, not fear me as you do.” His hand lifted, and for a brief moment she imagined it was to strike her. He wouldn’t dare, f course -- not here, not in front of everyone. But then again, there was a touch of madness to him these days. She considered it a severe loss of emotional function, but he refused to give her clue or reason. Whatever happened in the gardens of Kadia, she didn’t know about it, and would have never guessed. The Roen she knew, the one she had nearly loved -- that was the only Roen she accept to be in existence. And this man, he felt less and less like Roen, and more and more like something she could not hope to understand. To her surprise, the set of trembling fingers that had been aimed at touching her face -- brushing across her cheek, or perhaps tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear -- never made contact. She was grateful for this. His touch weakened her on every possible level. It zapped her physically, in the same way that merely being in the presence of a sunbeam could prove catastrophic, it made her heart lurch into her throat, it made the muscles in her stomach tighten and release so quickly that she felt that delightful sense of dizziness that came only from loving someone, regardless of whether you want to or not. “Are you with me?” “Of course,” she replied without having to think about it. This was the easy part. She could lie about the things that he had beaten into her, and a month was just about long enough to learn how he wanted her to sound when they were in public. So she reached out and grasped his empty hands with her own, small fingertips. She sought out his touch, by initiating the contact. These were the things that pleased him, her sweetness, her charm, her submission that she gave to him before others. “You are an Orisia’s champion, you saved my people from impending doom at great personal risk and response. Do not doubt, my love, that there is ever a day when I do not pray fervently for your health and happiness, and the realization of your noble dreams.” He knew it was a lie. He knew she didn’t mean a word she said. Bu would he care? “Please, forgive me…” the man was speaking, the human who had collected Gabriela’s glass out of Roen’s fingers nearly an hour or two ago. He looked so very pale and so terribly uncomfortable. Sympathy softened her worried expression. “Go on, it’s alright,” she answered, stealing another glance at Roen’s face but catching only the sharp edges of his profile. He wasn't pleased. Fearful that looking at him longer than was necessary was having the adverse effect of making her soften to him, she focused all of her attention on the single human servant. “There’s a problem with your son.” “What?” her mask fell. And that beautifully crafted and perfectly set mask fell away as her heart lurched into action from the blood he had warmed in her system. Fear gripped her, stronger than any sentiment she had ever felt for him. Roen fell to the backburner as she stepped out of his reach. “What’s wrong with Philippe?” The hosts of this event had been remarkably kind in providing the wee child with a safe and comfortable place to sleep. Once Roen had explained that they were traveling with their newborn, the gracious hosts had insisted that a day room be provided for the mother and baby so that they could be more secure, especially if any special circumstance should arrive. Little Philippe had been left there with a plethora of toys and attendants, but it didn’t feel like it was enough, at least not to Gabriela. She loathed being away from him. “His governess has urged me to get your attention and request that you join her,” he paused and glanced at Roen. The young man looked pale, as if he had seen a ghost -- perhaps his own. “The little prince is sick. It doesn’t appear to be anything serious, but she wanted one of you to come and check in.” “Yes, of course,” she replied and turned to Roen. Gone was any pretense of submission. She was not about to ask him for permission to go and check on her son. But she couldn’t stop the game, not without serious consequences. He had introduced her to some of those consequences, not so long ago so the pain of them -- physically, emotionally, and even spiritually -- was still fresh and vivid in her mind. So she reached out, she set her cool hands upon one of his arms in that sort of sweet and imploring way that a wife does to her husband. “I will go check. There’s no sense in both of us going, besides -- you might do better without me. Who knows the workings of Roen better than Roen?” She smiled sweetly at him and gave him a loving little squeeze that she hoped enough people would seen in order for her to have fulfilled her quota. And then, refusing to wait for an answer, she motioned for the human servant to go on and show her back to Phillipe. He took the hint and excused himself from the Devil and the Emperor, and waited while Gabriela did the same. “Good luck darling,” she rose to her tippy toes and leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. There, where everyone could see, she lifted a hand and touched his prickly cheek. She scratched at the tender flesh that remained hidden under the ever-growing beard. “I am certain that by the time I come back you will have wooed the entire room.” She left on that note, a half-hearted laugh and a deep and awful worry for her son. Exit Gabriela
  10. 4 points

    [A.N.T] Main Thread 1: The Arrivals

    In the mien, the Gentleman Sage was above all else a figure of grandiloquent eloquence and paramount loquaciousness. In equal parts expectation as it was improversination, the Sage was the Outsider’s quasi-persona, a sort-of mental cant that helped him navigate the social quagmire of events such as these. This was not to say it was a strenuous affixation, however. Roen enjoyed being the Gentleman Sage almost as much as he enjoyed being himself, if not more. When his mind was turned to being engaging, witty, or otherwise conversational in a way that made others both comfortable and inclined to enjoy his company, his thoughts were not on his countless worries, both named and unknown. But when Irene turned her summerset eyes his way and conveyed to him the wealth of her sentiments, he could not help but feel some mild cause of concern. So instead of making some clever remark to Charman Tynes somewhere along the lines of prompting the man not to stand on ceremony, or make conversation concerning just what exactly people were writing about and inquiring as to where he could read along, the Outsider was subsumed by the Orisian Queen and let the mask slip. With his fingers on the small of her back and his attention settled on her warm, expressive eyes, he needn’t delve too deeply into the portents of body language to suspect her sudden unease and concern, and with suspicion came disquiet. A shadow passed over the Outsider’s fast, a subtle contraction of brows and the downturning of his lips hinting at much and more that transpired in the quick and dire interaction that took place between he and his chosen beloved. He was unhappy with her, the ruling Lord of Patia and Marlboro Keep. He was unhappy and he was cautious, and for the first time tonight, revealed to others that not all was as it appeared between the two controversial figures, one fiend and the other vampyre. There was contention and discord, which while was not uncommon between lovers, seemed to hint at things more severe. But their shared look was a brief one, and the discord it sowed between them was quick to be buried between the combined weight of their personal reservations. Whatever their conflict of interests, the two were determined to not reveal it, at least not so publicly. So he looked away in time to see the Chairman extend his hand, and the Gentleman Sage reached out to take it on the Outsider’s behalf. Warm, calloused fingers, as if the Outsider were some laborer and not a sedentary ruler, grasped Tyne’s hand. Webbing to webbing, Roen grasped firmly, shook twice, and let go with the well-practiced ease of an on-again-off-again diplomat. And that was the extent of the conversation. With the deftness of the more seasoned official instructing the lesser experienced one, Irene gave the Chairman an excuse to leave that was all-too-readily received and acted upon. Roen rescinded his hand from the Orisian Queen’s back as he watched the man go, wondering what business he had to attend in a room of so few. Forgetting that Koji was within earshot, Roen waited for the Chairman to deposit his drink and start sampling their host’s food before he turned to face Irene again, piqued. Leaning in close and speaking low, he reached for the vampyre’s hand and linked their fingers together, giving off the illusion of intimacy while ensuring she could not elude him so easily. “What are you doing?” He asked, quiet and severe, though less incensed than he meant. It was hard being upset with the diminutive woman, especially over something so trivial. And her hand was cold in his, like ice on a winter morning. That it sucked greedily at his warmth was immaterial; it soothed the aches in his hands, in the silvery lines she had gouged into them with her knives so long ago. It was poetic that laying hands on her soothed the pains of yesteryears, but there was always a terrible irony between them in most every circumstance. Giving her fingers a squeeze, he leaned closer, whispering for her ears alone. “Why did you drive him away, love? Am I really so monstrous you must drive them from me? Business, mm, yes, he has business. Business with -- why, I think that’s cheese.” He trailed off as did his eyes, regarding Tynes from afar without much interest, only for the effect of theatricality. Irene was as aware of the chairman’s activities as he was. “These are friends we haven’t made yet, Irene. They will not love us if you banish them on my approach. After all, you would know best: I am not so bad.” A pause; the space of a breath between them. “Once you get to know me.” He sighed and reached for her other hand, taking the champagne glass from between her pale, deathless fingers. Chilled by her touch, Roen drank the contents, savored the sweet, somewhat carbonated beverage, and handed the glass off to a passing waiter. Champagne, he thought, was for celebrations. He had yet to see what cause there was for the bubbly, and added it to a list of grievances he would take to their host, should the time arise. Roen shook his head and let Irene’s hand go, and mourned the loss of its coolness and a return to pain while he admonished her not unkindly. “One day I may need that man,” he said to her, still talking about Chairman Tynes. “One day I may need all the people in this room, if for nothing other than to agree on but a single matter. Each and one of these men and women bring a gift to the table, and that is one of new insight and import. That is why we are here, Irene.” The fiend looked at her closely, full of doubt. “I brought peace to Orisia. We’re,” he said, gesturing between them both to indicate them as a pair, “on a path of prosperity, and we can bring that to this world. This is where we start, tonight. World peace. They aren’t my enemies - chaos is. Tonight we talk about putting an end to chaos, and I believe through me, we can achieve it. I need you to believe that, too.” He narrowed his eyes. “I need you to help me convince them that my way is the right way, not send them off when I draw near. Teach them to love me, not fear me as you do.” Roen raised a hand, moving as if he wanted to touch her face, then reconsidered and curled his fingers, unhappy. She was beautiful, of course. Radiant. As perfect as marble. But she was cold, and her smile, though startling in whiteness and a generosity of spirit, was not genuine. It was not meant for him. She was his chosen, yes. But he was not her’s. Perhaps he was expecting too much from the captive that captivated. “Are you with me?” He asked, quiet and reserved. By now Koji was more decoration than person; the totality of those who arrived her tonight might have been of great import to the Outsider, but none were more important than she, the Queen of a small island nation. Insofar as he was concerned, she was key to his machinations. And now was not a time to put her cooperation in doubt.
  11. 3 points
    Yeah, I am sorry theres so little information. The truth is Antigua was never developed and this will be the first time and last time that it is used. So really, there is a ton of creative freedom within those few peramiters that I offered. I really want people to come into this and make it hwir own, have fun, and be as destructive, dramatic, or sentimental as they want.
  12. 3 points
    Thank you all for your responses. I feel that I have a much better grasp of Antigua's demographics and working knowledge of how the denizens of that city would react to a landmass raining down on them.
  13. 3 points
    Some damn fine questions Touching only on those concerning the tech level, Pasion mentions in this post on her AMA that Orisia is "low tech": https://www.valucre.com/topic/38311-orisia-ask-me-anything/?do=findComment&comment=688910 In this one she mentions "renaissance" when describing the setting: https://www.valucre.com/topic/38311-orisia-ask-me-anything/?do=findComment&comment=689845 It's absolutely worth while getting some more specific details around what this means but I hope that serves as a starting point
  14. 3 points
    How normal is normal in Antigua? Like, if the citizens of Antigua were described in a word, what would that word be, and how magical are they? I've noticed that the city seems particularly agriculture-heavy. Are agricultural products the city's primary export? I know there's an industrial sector of the city and a middle class, denoting that something is produced in Antigua, but what? Is this manufacturing, perhaps, fueled by a logging operation? I'm still a tad confused about Orisia's tech limitations. I'd appreciate it if someone would elaborate on allowable levels of technological complexity as I've found conflicting information on this subject. For example, black powder weaponry doesn't appear to work even though the Malice has/had a functional submarine.
  15. 2 points
    The sensation of falling in one’s sleep. It’s always an interesting sensation. The darkness and comfort of rest suddenly cut short by the sharp skip of a heartbeat followed by that fleeting moment of free falling through the air. There’s always a hint of fear or shock that cuts through the dulled senses and pierces the brain’s amygdala. That all but brief moment that this was it and you had died. Death however would of been a mercy for Miss Blonde, because when that sensation was over she had to face her new reality. One where she wouldn’t awake to the familiar feeling of her bed and warm body lying next to her. There would only be the cold hard ground. Dark reflective lenses of a gas mask lay blank and expressionless, it’s hard metallic casing showing no signs of movement simply lay there resting atop a head of long blonde hair. A still silence that filled the air and soon was swiftly ended by a blur of movement and a mechanical cocking mechanism. Sitting up with speed and intensity, Miss Blonde’s gas mask came to life with red flashing LED lights that opened completely to almost express her shock. In her hand was the smooth and engraved .44 caliber pistol that began to scan the room. Something had knocked her out at the height of the party. Something that would have to be powerful to put her under the table. Yet all she could see were the black suit and tie adorned and unconscious bodies of her employees. Her closest lieutenants who she had gathered here for a reason should could not quite remember. Which was odd, because normally the woman had the mind of a steel box. In fact her mind was even protected by the enchantment placed on her mask. So with a few wobbly shakes, the small Crime Lord stood on her feet and kept her pistol firmly in her grasp. From the looks of things they were all still in the cabana club, the small and out of the way bar she owned on Relovian. Which was good, perhaps they all just had too much to drink. Taking her free hand she rubbed her sore and throbbing head and sighed. ”Haven’t has a headache like this since college.” Taking a few steps towards the center of the bar, she looked around for her personal assistant. Finding his slightly pale red hair, the man was doubled over a bench with his drink still held loosely in his hand. ”Orange, wake your ass up.” With a slight kick to his side the man sputtered and soon fell over onto his back and groaned. His face was also obscured by a mask similar to Blonde’s but even through the mask’s robotic vocalizes one could hear the misery of what might be identified as a hangover. ”Wake up the others then call me a speeder home. Looks like we went all night.” Blonde said with some kindness towards the man but still made sure to convey that this was an order. ”Sure thing, boss. Can we get some MandoBurger on the way back? Cause I could use it.” Orange asked as he began to pick himself up from the bench. ”Sure, just call the speeder.“ Placing her pistol back into its holster the woman would proceed to walk towards the front door. Daylight shined through the shutters and slightly illuminated the tropical and playful decor of the bar. About fifteen of her top men were here for what had seemed to be a party in her honor. Maybe they had just pulled off some kind of heist? No, she’d of remembered that. Did they make a big weapon or drugs sale? Maybe a successful auction? Again she’d of known about that. Pacing her way towards the door, Blonde needed some fresh air. ”Boss... there’s a problem. Comms are down. In fact I’m not seeing any signal, anywhere.” Orange said in a worried tone while hunched over a screen. ”Just run a diagnostics check on the system I’m sure it’s just the-“ Blonde paused in shock as she stepped out the door. It all hit her at once. The strange architecture, the smell of the air, and especially the completely alien species that could be seen walking around the streets. Species that her scanners couldn’t even identify, which was impossible. ”It’s probably the what, Boss?” Orange asked as he looked up from the screen towards Blonde. All of it was overwhelming. The information was flooding in faster than her brain could process it all. She took a few steps forward to turn around and look at her bar. It was all roughly the same but rather than being in its normal spot against the coast on the beach it was tucked away in the slums and back alleyways of some sort of sprawling alien metropolis. A few people on the street even approached her. Species that she had no idea what they were or what they wanted. Her hand reached into her jacket to grasp at her pistol while still concealed in her coat. ”You open? Me bredren and me just got off the night shift. Could use a drink.” What looked to be a troll with fiery red hair looked down at the girl and by his side he was flanked by a small gnome and a half orc. ”We’ve never seen your bar before. You guys just open up?” The half orc asked kindly. Blonde could understand them, which was odd. They spoke basic. So slowly releasing the pistol grip, she smiled beneath her mask and the lights on her masked turned to their standard yellow. ”By all means. Come inside, have a drink.” She said with some mild intent in her robotic laced voice. To the more magical adept of Last Chance a powerful and cosmic based magic would light up Blonde’s bar in the invisible residue of powerful magic that could be felt for miles. The city was still recovering from a large attack and there was sure to be people of note in the city. For now though, Blonde would just lead the three men inside.
  16. 2 points

    Miss Blonde

    Miss Blonde General Info BIRTH NAME: Patricia Susan Garter (unknown to all but a handful of people) FACTION: Syndicate RANK:Leader SPECIES: Human AGE: 40 (though looks like early twenties) SEX: Female SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Straightish HEIGHT: 4'10 (and proud of it) WEIGHT: 115lbs EYES: Blue HAIR: Blonde SKIN: Caucasian MAGIC SENSITIVE: Yes Strengths & Weaknesses STRENGTHS Strong willed: Miss Blonde does not have a feeble mind, regardless of her foul mouth and general demeanor the woman knows her way around the underworld. She has taken advanced interrogation resistance classes making her hard to sway through magic or torture. She will do whatever it takes to ensure the job is done and no information is leaked or spilled. Gunslinger to the max: If there's a handheld weapon system in the world from magictech rifles to slug throwers Blonde can adapt and learn it quickly. She prefers to dual wield pistols but she is not to be taken lightly when it comes to rifles either. I can fit in that!: Miss Blonde is rather small, standing at only four ten she can crawl through air ducts, hide in boxes, and fit in most tight spaces. I know Kung Fu: Miss Blonde is well trained in many forms of martial arts and knows how to layith the smacketh down. She has had advanced hand to hand training and she uses her small size and speed against her opponents. Follow me!: Years of experience have shaped this woman and helped her become a strong and capable leader who can take charge of a situation and hold it down. Just call me Doctor Blonde: Miss Blonde has a PHD in mechanical engineering, and masters in a few other scientific disciplines in the field of aerospace design, weaponry of all kinds, and more sinister practices. She can build and craft just about anything if she puts her mind to it. WEAKNESSES I'm 4'10 dude: Miss Blonde is small, she's not terribly strong, and it's easy to pick her up and throw her across the room. While she can still take a beating and give one out, the woman has a disadvantage when going up against a larger opponent. FUCK!!: Patricia can have a temper and the mouth of a sailor. While normally she keeps her composure, when angered or even just out of the blue the little crime lord can swear and throw lose her shit. This can often cloud her judgment and get her into dangerous situations. Fuck it, kill em: Miss Blonde has lost a lot of her morales along the way, where she once would do a job where everyone made it out alive over the years moral bankruptcy has taken that from her. Avarice thy name is Blonde: While not terribly greedy, Miss Blonde will not stop to get what she wants. She's risked the lives of her friends and family to get where she wants to be and that attitude has put her in the position she is now. Physical Appearance APPEARANCE: Often seen in a black suit and tie with a gas mask strapped to her face Miss Blonde carries herself extremely professionally and ensures that she looks on point. Beneath the mask Blonde carries the youthful vigor of her twenties through anti aging technology that she has to go through on a yearly basis. She presents herself to be in her mid twenties however she's really about 40. Biography The story of Miss Blonde begins in an unknown galaxy far far away. In her early years the young girl was daughter to a casino Barron, money was never a problem and she wanted for nothing. Though that would prove to be harmful for the child. Growing up in a non stop party environment, Patricia often used drugs and drank heavily all while burning through her father’s money. This way of life continued until the eventual and proverbial last straw broke the Camel’s back. Being disowned by her parents the now nineteen year old Blonde was beginning to learn the truth that all her friends were simply her friends for her money, access to drugs, and never for who she was. So she needed to get a job, and to be fair at the time she felt that manual labor was entirely beneath her. So she did what any young attractive and desperate nineteen year old would do. She joined the army! Well not the army, but the intelligence agency that supported it. Entering basic training to become a spy, the girl quickly learned that she was a natural. Picking up firearms training, information gathering, seduction, and counter information skills. Patricia soon graduated and was given her first few assignments which mainly consisted of gathering inform on various dangerous individuals who they were currently at war with. This went on for a few months until she eventual met her first soon to be husband who unironically went by the name Romeo. A man who was out to kill her targets rather than arrest them inorder to gather further information. Having clashed heads a few times on missions, eventually the two fell deeply in love with one another and within a few months, Patrica was pregnant with their first daughter Erika. Deciding to take a indefinite leave of absence from her job as a spy to settle down with her husband in a small apartment, something terrible would happen. Reality, the crushing reality set in that this was her life now. Become a stay at home mom. Change diapers. Cook dinner. Rinse wash and repeat until the kids grew up and she was no longer needed. She was only twenty and now having the terrifying feeling thrusted upon her. So Patricia did what no mother to a newborn child only a week old would do. She left. She left Romeo, she left Erika, and would leave her new life to fall back into her old ways of drugs, partying, and drinking to numb her pain and often times regret. This would continue for a year before tragedy struck. Her homeland had been all busy destroyed. The dangerous and deadly individuals she had been tasked to gather information on, they had sacked her birthplace and among the deaths were that of her parents. War has ignited and Patricia needed to rejoin the fight. Returning to her job and insisting that she have a field operations job, the returining spy soon became a deadly field agent and over the course of three years she was responsible for the deaths or arrests of many enemy lives. Having proven her prowess the now veteran agent now at twenty-three years of age had been given a deep undercover task. To infiltrate a massive criminal syndicate known as the Red Ravens and take them down from the inside. Having returned from a battle where she was severely injured, Patrica figured it would be a good place to be until she was ready to return to the front lines. Sadly that day would never come. Rising quickly through the ranks, she eventually found herself as Vice President of the organization after heavily disrupting it and ousting its previous leader in favor of a more hot headed and inexperienced candidate that she could manipulate into driving the organization into the ground. All would be for not though, for the government and nation she worked for would fall to pieces and evil would win the day. Now lost in deep cover with no home to return to, Patricia did what most people would do. She took the money. Making nearly billions of credits, the twenty four year old was rolling in it. She remained on as the Vice President and helped run the organization. Though over the course of a year or so. Though Patricia began to think of the family she left behind, the one that she had abandoned. With her new found wealth and skills she found them. Romeo was now ruler of his own small nation and her daughter was safe, happy, and healthy. It took nearly all her courage, but she approached and returned to them. She was only met with open arms and love. As if she had never left, Patricia was reunited with her family. Years of war and death had hardened her outer shell and with her wall now crashing down as she held her daughter. She would begin to see her ex again until she was once more pregnant with their next child. Now with two children and a crime syndicate to run, Patricia through herself into school to study and learn all she could in various fields of science. She would not be just a criminal for her children. Life was good for a while, Patricia was rich, she had her family, and all was well. This was until the president of the Red Ravens had found out she was an undercover agent. Collapsed government or not, the woman went after Patricia and she was forced to take her family and flee. Now living in the remote and fringe areas of her universe, Patricia did what anyone with two kids and a hefty amount of walking around money would do. She started a company. Reclaimer Arms & Industrial. A weapons, armor, and vehicle company where she personally designed all of their products. Elevating her position and now making money to support her family once more, Patricia was enjoying herself and her legitimacy. Though as we all know, her current life would not last long. Now thirty years old, she had been approached by the her long time friend and prime minister of what was left of their fallen Republic to build an army and outfit them. What was left of their once great nation was now simply corrupt politicians, generals, and other officials. Seeing this as a way to make up for her past sins, she agreed. Absorbing a cloning company, Patricia built a grand army of clones then handed them over to the prime minister. Though little to her knowledge, her once trusted friend was more nefarious than one would believe. Seizing power and taking all private businesses in the sector, her friend angered not only her former enemies, but the CEOs and and leaders of massive companies that all had their own private defense forces. Forces that came down on the prime minster and on her. With her life once again at risk and with a massive bounty on her head. Patricia once more had to go underground. With her husband dying in the ensuing conflict, it was just her and the kids now. And with spending all her money to stay one step ahead of every bounty hunter and person out for revenge, Patricia was once more penniless with two hungry mouths to feed. So she did what she had to do. Patricia took her knowledge of engineering, her criminal knowledge, and she became a masked gun runner with the handle of Blonde. Running guns to dangerous and deadly people and gangs soon turned into her seizing power in those gangs. Those gangs eventually turned into a minor gang with her as the leader. The persona of Miss Blonde was born. Now living a double life as Miss Blonde she would once more find love with one of her employees. While it was a dangerous game they played, she was happy. Elevating her criminal organization further and further, Miss Blonde would have Syndicate become one of the biggest crime organizations to exist that dwarfed the now defunct Red Ravens by comparison. Yet time and time again life always threw a curve ball. Her current husband and father of her third child had been declared KIA in an assignment. Throwing herself into her work and into the business, what was left of Patricia was slowly crumbling. There was only the mask, and there was only Miss Blonde. She had lost love time and time again and this drove her into the darkness. Her powers grew and as she fed her hate. This continued to the point where she was bombing and nerve gassing civilians just to send a message to local governments to stay out of her way. She was a wanted woman and she didn’t care. Having one short fling with equally dangerous and evil men, Miss Blonde looked in the mirror one day and saw what she was. She had become the very thing she hated the most. She had become what took her husbands, what drove her away from her family, and what killed innocent life for the bottom line. She was what her old self would try to stop. Now broken and tormented, Blonde decided to retire. Leaving her life as a Crime Lord. She sold all her greatest trophies and then needed to leave the business once and for all. Calling together a small party with her closest and top lieutenants with her. She needed to commit one last act of evil before she was freed of this life. She needed to kill everyone who had faithfully served her over the years for fear that once she vanished, they might be able to lead any bounty hunters to her. On that fateful night just as everything was coming to a close, Blonde had intended to have the doors locked so she could give everyone in attendance the death they deserved. Not one by poison, but a criminal’s death. Being gunned down in a blaze of glory. But at the last second, everything went black and all were transported somewhere new. Having many of their memories ripped away, Blonde was able to keep most of hers intact due to the enchantment on her mask. They found themselves in the strange new world of Valucre. The entire bar, Blonde’s Lieutenants, and Miss Blonde herself were Dumbfoundead. Being separated from her children, Miss Blonde must now find a way back and make things right.
  17. 2 points

    Of Gods and Men

    Corvinus never thought himself as clever, intelligent perhaps, but never clever. It was that doubt that kept his assumptions logical and in check. He knew that Raphael was behind it, though it mattered little if he truly was; he would have his dues one way or another. It did not matter to the black eyed man from whom the debt would be collected. Rowan would only have himself to blame for the slight, it was unfortunate the Corvinus had grown petty in his old age. A symptom, perhaps; born of the knowledge that time was growing ever shorter. “The very one.” He confirmed, his voice cold and direct, there was neither anger or frustration in his voice. If he felt those things, they were carefully and tightly gripped in the darkness of his self-control. “It has been an eventful time since the wedding, to say the least.” He said, lightly rocking the child in his arms. First his wife’s passing, Cornelius’ murder of Leoa and his subsequent fleeing, and the retrieval of Kaori from Desmond’s grasp. He had been rather quite busy, and his instincts told he would be far more busy in the days to come. “Think of it as a favor to those who have used each other’s for their nation’s and people’s own ends. A matter of course for those of our mind.” He said simply, neither returning or shrugging off the sincerity of Rafael’s words. He didn’t bother to consider if it was genuine to begin with. “Fair enough, I only ask you inform of how it was handled, call it simple curiosity of a slighted man.” He said, waving it away for now. The subject could be continued after Rafael had done as he said, if he actually planned to. Regardless the matter was settled and it would be spoken that the Emperor knew of what had transpired, and who had acted. Rafael was right to believe war was coming, there was no denying that. Corvinus had set his sight on such an outcome as an inevitability now. Koji, Roen, and perhaps even his own son Desmond. He would not hesitate to lay the half-breed self-proclaimed emperor of the Midlands low, along with Celine now. Desmond too would be crushed under heel without hesitation, especially now. Corvinus had doted on his children far too much, giving them the love he never had. In return, two had betrayed him, one going so far as to go directly against him. Desmond had awakened the ire of a man he could only barely comprehend. “While it would be difficult for my people to fully understand given our ideology, they know that there are times in which we must be pragmatic.” He said, pausing for a moment to look at his son. “Very well, Rafael; we will forge an official alliance. There will be an agreement, though.” He stated settling those ever dark and consuming eyes on the Blood God before him. “Koji will inevitably get his daughter back from my grasp. I must eventually allow it, be it of her own volition or through the trickery and guile of his agents. Or through sheer force of arms.” He said. “I am only a man, after all.” He said, a slight smile twitched at the corners of his lips in a self deprecating manner. “In either case, Koji will turn his eyes on the Imperial South, or Kadia. Perhaps even both. As allies poise your blade at his back, and strike him down when he bares his fangs at me, or this one,” He said, gesturing to the child. “should he be on the throne at such a time.” The mixing magic and technology--while profitable--was not his main concern. “And should he turn his fangs to you, I will do the same. And should he do so to someone else, we will take everything regardless.” His tone became cold and cruel. Corvinus did not hate Koji, but he found the man beneath him. Celine who had been not only a part of the plan, but a major hand in its devising had committed a betrayal. Kadia was not Renovatio, he was not Primera. He wasn’t Leoa. He lacked the forgiveness for transgressions and as with his son they will be punished when the time was right. As they sought to take from him, both his pride and his dignity; he would take from them so much more. The hunger of man was vast, whetted and tempered over the millennia of struggle for dominance against the elder species. His was so much more. To stand against him was folly. To betray him was a fatal sin.
  18. 2 points

    [A.N.T] Main Thread 1: The Arrivals

    There was much talk of the strange forces which had been so bold as to attack a major city of the Terran empire. Whatever it is this Legion of Doom was after, it was difficult to divine on it's own. Surely their plans go beyond something as mundane as the robbery of seafaring vessels? It was hard to tell, but what mattered now where definite dangers, not the possible chances of madmen harassing a much larger force than their own. "My apologies for not showing you the proper respect, Your Majesty." Both Oscar and Cassandra bowed in respect to the angelic Empress, though in his heart, Oscar could not find the energy needed to hold real respect for their sovereign. How could he, knowing that she and Titus were responsible for bringing in these outsiders, for slapping everyone in the political sphere of Ursa Madeum in the face by giving nobility to barbarians? He would serve, as his honor demanded, but he could not delude himself into believing that they meant the best for us. That was one of the major reasons that Oscar wanted to have ratified a new constitution for their nation, so someone that was born here and knows the people can govern them fairly. "This Legion is a threat to all Terrans, and should be hunted down before they can do anymore harm. My suggestion would be to use whatever they've left behind for those skilled in scrying magic to locate them." These knaves were no greater than animals, and should be run down like animals. Had he the resources or the manpower he would have joined in such a hunt, but his attention was kept at home, with other villains to worry about. "House Uldwar will be sure to send whatever aid it can to the city of Last Chance to help in their reconstruction efforts." Cassandra always had a heart for helping others, as well as helping refine the image of their family.
  19. 2 points
    I just got new ideas for quests within the zone Illyria will occupy as I am sure there will be items that were previously inert that will suddenly come back to life and may provide some sweet loot to adventurers. ?
  20. 2 points

    Harsh Training (Tiandi Wushu)

    So it seemed that his Master's presence wasn't a great enough distraction to afford him the surprise leisure time he sought to claim for himself and his discovered love interest. Begrudgingly, he silently obliged Master Ren by proceeding back into the courtyard. Glancing to Master James once more, it became apparent that he decided to stick around and observe for himself just what Jinsoku had been up to. Learning to apply his Qi just enough to facilitate the techniques of his assigned style had been one thing, though as Ren began to explain, and even show them another means of application. One that Jinsoku was no stranger to, yet one that he couldn't so easily grasp. It wasn't that he misunderstood the concept, but it was more so his own predicament concerning the Raiju within. The Yokai his body played host to survive by siphoning his Qi/Chi/Ki, and in return it donated him it's own variation of that very energy called Yoki. Some called it demonic energy, others called it divine. Regardless, it was not human, though he wielded it as naturally as Ren had his Qi. After the display, Jinsoku was certain that it would be a task to Master the art, something he had already began to do quite a while before ever stepping foot on this world, let alone within this school. While he couldn't likely yield results in the manner Ren prescribed them, especially considering it was the Raiju's life source, he could imitate the skill more or less, though in past instances he had mostly only done so accidentally. The phenomenon of pushing that illustrious, electrical Yoki out of every inch of his body in order to bolster his prowess; Both physically and metaphysically. This accidental happening was also usually tied to a more or enraged state where he wasn't completely belligerent, but also not completely conscious of his actions. This created an air of doubt and fear that certainly deterred him from trying to get a handle on it, however, Master Ren being the second mentor of his to encourage getting a true handle on his case (even without fully knowing or understanding*), perhaps it was actually time to try pushing himself into the state he feared gradually in order to gain it's benefits without the detriments. After all, it had been about a year and half since her had tapped into his latent potential. A year an a half since the first (and last) time he had killed a genuine, living, sentient being. Perhaps with his time and experience had since then, and with his current level of bonding with the Raiju that called itself Rei, perhaps he was in the best shape he had ever been to attempt this. If nothing else, at least he knew Master James was here. Should he lose control, he could count on James to keep everyone safe including himself. "..." Jinsoku's eyes slid shut as his fist curled shut at his sides. He took a few deep breaths in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Mental preparation and controlled breathing would hopefully contribute to a successful experiment. As he slowly began to assimilate and distribute his Ki, Jinsoku radiated with potential unseen by the naked eyes. Though by the time he managed to completely fill his core, a shift would occur naturally within him that was unfortunately out of his control. By now the Raiju had certainly hollowed out his very soul, embedding itself within Jin permanently. They were more one person/creature at this point than they were separate, for without the Raiju, Jinsoku wasn't even sure if he could continue to live. If he could, he would do so as only a shell of his current self, a man without a proper soul. The tiny hair on the body's of his companions/audience would assuredly become erect, standing on end as electric affinity began to override his prior action. Though he was prepared for such a thing to occur at least, perhaps Master James too was aware of the sensation based on prior training. As the energy built up within him, his form acquire a soft glow compared to the brilliance of the Shangdi himself, though the film around his outer most surface was certainly white in color. Sparks of brilliant azure prowess began to appear seconds apart, scattered various across his body as he filled himself wholly with the Yoki. The sparks grew in occurrence though not in duration as he continued. Suddenly his arms acquired a bend at the elbows, his closed fists hovering just below his ribs. His muscles began to expand as his skin pinked, gradually darkening as his blood vessels expanded and blood coursed faster through his veins. His heart rate increased, adrenaline bursting through his body as he pressed on. Finally his eyes parted once more, opening, yet remaining narrowed with a look of pure determination. His shorter, practically Ceasar cut hair lifted, becoming increasingly spiky, as if it had been wet and styles that way. His charcoal eyes began to illuminate, turning a brilliant blue and streaking with goldenrod flashes that crackled in and out in likeliness to the azure streaks that appeared about his body. His entire body began to feel as if it was flexing, the expansion of his muscles finding their apex as his lips parted in a scowl, yet his jaw remained clenched. A growl found him as the energy continued to increase, only for him to finally release a guttural yell in protest of his own mind telling him he should maybe stop. It was then his back suddenly straightened over his shoulder with apart feet, his knees remaining slightly bent as to refrain from locking. That's when it happened, a goldenrod aura erupted from his body, growing to encase him fully in a fashion similar to a stocked fire in which he was the base of the flames. As he maintained some semblance of control, a smirk formed on his face. Mentally, he gave Rei his gratitude, regardless of if it had actually participated with him in this moment of success. 'Arigato.' While his results greatly varied from Master Ren's, he had virtually done as was directed. His display wasn't as grand as Ren's, though where he lacked in potency, he most certainly prevailed in the purity of his energy.
  21. 2 points

    Steeped in Moonlight (Artifact)

    The change in Ziva's attitude over the past few months was like night and day. Lilith could hardly believe that the werewolf who'd thought to betray her in Casper was now protective of her like a pack mate, enough to place herself between Lilith and an unknown. But what really surprised Lilith was the outburst of anger from the usually calm Ankou. Or, at least, she couldn't really pinpoint a reason for it. He'd never gotten angry at Ziva's for her sarcasm and somewhat disobedient wit. Perhaps he too, was adjusting to his position within her coven. That would explain his earlier Commander comment. Good. Unbeknownst to the two, however, Lilith had chosen Zuruk almost completely because of his chaotic nature. Sure, the creature lacked respect and a type of obedience Lilith desired, but so had Ziva's and Ankou. In timr, the creature would learn or die. But it would prove to be amusing for their coven to take on a lizard of rampage. He would be a good tool of attack, considering politics and schemes were obviously behind his skillset. What Lilith required was absolute obedience and loyalty. For those who resisted, death awaited. For those who accepted, power laid in the close future. Lilith ignored Zuruk's question. Despite the promise of entertainment, Lilith still despites questions. She'd tolerate them to an extent from those who proved obedience, but was never in a rush to answer them. Zuruk's had obeyed her call to arms, demonstrating his willingness to obey for a guarantee of violence, if nothing else. Switching gears, Lilith quickly lost interest since Zuruk wasn't a danger to her, she slammed a fist down into an open hand. "I passed by this city a while back. Not to large but it reveres a giant rock that fell from the sky. Technically its space rock and not moon rock, but that shouldn't prove to much of an obstacle. Small detour but whatever." Normally Lilith would just let people die instead of taking a detour from her own goals, but her coven was her goal was top priority. Thus keeping Ziva's alive as a coven member took precedence over the newer goal.
  22. 2 points
    Jesus. I am sorry for all the typos. My phone...my kids... I'll offer better answers later. But sufficient to say, after this -- Illyria will essentially be a bubble of its own surrounded by La'Ruta. And it will be independent of Orisia. I am leaving it up to Dolor to decide how La'Ruta will affect his country and his technology.
  23. 2 points
    @The Alexandrian aside from getting a feel for the original setting of Antigua was there something else I could perhaps answer for you specific to this event? I haven't explained much about Illyria (the kingdom that will nearly wipe Antigua away in this event) yet but from what I know about Pasion's Antigua it is definitely focused solely on agriculture but the specifics of what their exports are or how their economy works I will leave to her. Illyria is heavily focused on technology and magic together which is why I am allowing the use for this event and will likely continue to allow its use once it gets established in Valucre. I know that every area within Orisia still relies heavily on Versilla and the kingdom proper. Following along the vein of supernal though, I wouldnt want to delve so deeply into all of the framework that allows Antiguans to prosper or how Orisia itself stands against the rest of Valucre. Now as for their specific specialization in magic or other skills, I would lean toward your understanding that they likely hand craft things and produce magical items but given they don't have the infrastructure that other lands do in terms of magical resources or disciplines I would think they have simply found a niche or appealed to the novelty or rarity of their items to make profits outside of Orisia. Orisia is rather isolated both purposefully and just by the nature of how things have transpired so I believe they are self sustaining despite their isolationist ideals. Pasion will correct me if I am wrong. I probably didnt help any just now but don't hesitate to ask more questions. I will likely be able to help with anything specific to this event and how Illyria will affect the area in Ceyana but only have moderate knowledge of Orisian lore.
  24. 2 points
    It's only been 2 of the 4 discussed weeks, so this is just a poke to make sure that in another few weeks we'll be able to see the alliance thread in action @Vansin @Raspberry LA
  25. 2 points

    Repair of the Walls

    Their respite was short lived, a gathering of thirty two or so Chitten coming straight for them, a greater challenge than previously seen before. Now with so many in such a large group, Tor'Gal was certain they could overwhelm them if they didn't pull their defenses together to stop these horrors. Rage began to heat the blood that coursed through his veins, his ancestral anger starting to rise to the surface as the notion of extended battle entered his mind. These were the enemy, and by the grace of Gaia, he would smite these abominations and further cleanse this land of its eldritch filth. Even now though, he had to remain in control, for the good of the mercenaries, for the good of Inns'th, for the good of Terrenus. "Launch volleys!" He commanded, and the sky was once more colored in the variety of offensive magic which sought to destroy their targets with prejudice. This tactic he felt was greatly successful against the mindless beasts who knew nothing of tactics or moving carefully through a battlefield. Every attack counted, every shot that connected meant one less beast to engage with in close range combat. Tor'Gal could not deny that he felt satisfaction in the deaths of these creatures, his sympathy for these living beings nearly nonexistent after battling them for so long. These creatures would only serve to destroy the natural balance of Terrenus, and so their annihilation was necessary if the world was to continue surviving. Had he more time, the paladin would have been able to prepare something substantial for the beasts, but this situation required speed and ruthlessness. He needed to put his all into this strike, to destroy these monsters in order to preserve their defenses, for without them they would have nothing to keep the workers sealing the wall safe. Gathering his willpower, the half orc readied the will of Gaia for when the Chitten got closer, the range of this attack dreadfully short and thus was ineffective at long distances. With his spirit surging outwards through the ground itself, he had only moments to time this correctly in order to maximize the damage it could accomplish. A mighty roar tore its way past the battlefield, and with it came the wrath of the almighty Gaia herself. Shock waves ravaged the landscape at the exact moment the monsters were skittering towards the defenders at great speeds. Spikes of pure rock pierced the shells of the Chitten, mercilessly slaying a portion of them while leaving the rest of the creatures slightly dazed by its effects. At his call, he was joined by the defenders to rush the small remainder of creatures, cutting them down and ending this threat to their beloved homeland. Together they screamed the war cry of victory, once again rebuking the forces of darkness by the leadership of the novice paladin. Pride and glory filled the half breed from head to toe, his fatigue still setting in from the exertion of that spell. They could not continue to keep fighting nearly non-stop, that much the half orc understood, but for now their morale was on the rise, and he himself did not wish to burden himself with his concerns. All that mattered was repairing the wall. So long as that objective was accomplished, any sacrifice could be justified, in the name of their Saint-King, and in the name or protecting their home from the monsters coming ceaselessly upon them.
  26. 2 points

    Allied Nations of Terrenus (A.N.T.)

    I get off of work in a few hours. I’ll have a post up by then. Sorry for the wait, neighbors.
  27. 2 points

    A Fellowship in Frost

    Reitu sat next to Torie by the fire and stretched a bit before reaching into his animal hide backpack. He pulled out a handful of leather strips and four larger pieces of tanned hide, along with a thick needle. His hands worked at creating a set of boots for his tiger friend. Every few minutes he stopped his work to check the fit, pulling aside one of the feline's large paws and slipping it on. He lined the inside with a soft, cottony material to add extra protection from the rough texture of the ground. The whole process took a mere hour for the skilled crafter. Reitu made conversation with the goliath next to him, easily handling both working and talking. His teachers would always tell him that "if you're talking, you're not working," but even as a pup, Reitu was able to focus on his work quite easily as he talked with friends. Physically, he was always behind the other students, but mentally he was always ahead. After carefully washing Torie's paws with water that he had heated to a lukewarm temperature, he dried them and carefully strapped the soft boots onto his friend. The wounds weren't deep enough to call for any serious treatment, but they definitely appeared sore and cut up. The boots didn't have heavy padding, but they would at least offer some protection. Reitu lightly tapped a boot with a finger. "These should work for now. They aren't super sturdy, but they are the best I could do with the materials I have with me." He smiled, clearly pleased that he was able to help his friend. Now that his mind was not focused on crafting, the smell of cooking meat and spices made Reitu aware of how hungry he was. Before he knew it, he was filling a makeshift plate with meat and fruits of all assortments. If the foreigner had to pick his favorite thing about living with the tribe, it would have to be the exotic tundra fruit. They had a unique taste that no other region's fruit could compete with. Once his plate was filled, he sat back down next to Torie and Azul. He watched as the tribe's people joked and chatted with each other. Occasionally he would add to the laughter over a particularly funny comment or reaction. He wasn't much for alcohol, but every now and then Reitu would take a sip from someone's cup if they asked him to try a drink. The spotted humanoid found a family with these people, even though he was physically very different from them. It was an honor for him to be accepted in their community; to have them share their culture and traditions with them, and to teach them in return for their own teachings.
  28. 2 points
    The most adorable semialcrum ❤
  29. 2 points

    Llewellyn, Mathias

    ||General Information|| Name: Mathias Byron Wyrn-Llewellyn Used Name: Mathias Aliases: DOB: 1578AY, 5 November Race: Jupiter Fox Demon Age: 7000+ Visible Age: 19 Sex: Male Class: Sorcerer --Sub-Class: Templar Knight Dragoon Occupation: Apothecary Martial Status: Single Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Alignment: Evil Primary Residence: Llewellyn-Mathias, Hub of Val-Cruxia, Athentha ||Visuals|| Height: 5'6 Weight: 140lbs Hair: Long, down to mid back, braided Eyes: Heterchroma Yellow Black Hair Color: Black&Electric Blue Skin: Flawless Alabaster Physical Condition: Strong [can lift up to 300lbs+] Skin Condition: Flawless Arm: Amberdexterous Voice: Charismatic, Cunning, Honeyed Blood Type: AB- Body Art: Armor: Attire: Weapons: Family: Resistances: Immunities: Weaknesses: Other: History:
  30. 1 point
    Witches Brew


    Hello! My name is Daron, and I've wandered over from Quotev, a site that I have been using since I was 14. It used to be lively and full of roleplays, but now the format on the site has changed so much that you can't even find groups anymore unless you stalk some people. I've been looking for a roleplay site for a while now, and I found this. I think roleplaying is a fun way to get your imagination out with others, and to express certain ideas with like-minded people. Anywho, enough about that. Here's a bit about me: - I'm 20 years old -Aries - I'm a Witch - I draw sometimes, and I'm currently trying to figure out my drawing tablet - I like anime, Harry Potter, Greek Mythology, a whole bunch o' shit - I do descriptive Roleplays, not script. - Dogs are the best things ever, love them to bits. - I looooove to roleplay so if you ever want to just ask! - Still in my Twilight phase (not even ashamed) - I work 35 + hours a week (always tired) - Obsessed with K-pop and Reggaton And I think that's enough about me, if you have any questions just ask, and if you could help me navigate the site that would be very helpful! I hope we can be friends!
  31. 1 point

    Constructing the House Singlance Manor

    Well, that was a miscalculation, the knights were still on their horses. Of course, they also assume that Thurgood is so comitted to this place that he couldn't stand needing to deal with more bureaucracy for that particular place, or assume he doesn't know how to deal with bureaucrats. "Fuck you, and fuck nobles!" Thurgood says as he gets back into his truck. Neither Thurgood nor Aveline call themselves nobles, regard themselves as nobles, nor carry themselves as nobles for one simple reason: they do not respect nobles. They're commoners thrust into a status and role they despise; they look down at nobles, and honestly question Rozharon's judgement raising them to nobility. But here they are, so might as well make the best of it before Rozharon realizes her mistake and rescinds their nobility.
  32. 1 point
    Marishi had been shot twice by that repugnant Francmage. She was down to her last magazine. 4 rounds to her name. “One for me, three for them.” She darted from the table to a pillar and shot one of Francmages lieutenants in the chest. She shot him again in the head to bring him down. “Two more.” She tried to find Francmage in the room. She couldn’t see clearly, the blackness overtaking her. She couldn’t kill him. There wasn’t enough time. She trained the barrel to her temple, closed her eyes and felt the hammer fall. No shot was heard. She opened her eyes. She was nowhere. Naked floating in a sea of black. The memories of her life flooding into her. Eureka. The Anti crystals. Mati, Pandemonium, the sorceress, Vanadiel, Gilgamesh, Kagero, Tenzen, Rae. She remembered now. Too late she thought woefully. She remembered her vision being cut from her eyes and the feeling of steel buried in her chest. She remembered dying. “You’re hard to find, Marishi Ten. Your mind flutters through multiple realities at once. A woman adorned in white approached her. Pure white toga. The clothing of old. Her hair was red and her eyes lit as fire. She was slender of build, but radiated heat. Such heat. Waves distorted the air around her. “Do you know who I am?” She asked Marishi. She remained quiet. She didn’t want to speak. “Do you know who I am and why I’m here?” She repeated. Marishi stammered “N-no. I don’t know your face. I have nothing you want. I am nothing.” The woman came to stand within inches of Marishi. The flames licked her skin, but they didn’t burn. “My name is Phoenix. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? I am one of the last great avatars of the world. We stand on the brink of destruction. The eve of collapse. You have been brought to a special place in the world. With an entire army nipping at your heels.” She said. Marishi replied “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my time has passed and I have failed in my charge to keep the only one I care about safe. Will you be ushering me into the next life?” Phoenix stared at her. She didn’t laugh or move, but there was a hint of amusement to her tone. “You succeeded. Far better than you could have imagined. Your bravery inspired the last of my kind to rally one last time against the darkness that would engulf us all. You know of whom I speak.” Marishi quietly mouthed “Ultimaceia”. Phoenix nodded. “So she calls herself. You are as nothing to her as you are now. Even Rae, unbridled with Fenrir at her side and summons at her disposal would be crushed. She cannot hope to stand against her.” Marishi snapped “So you’ve come to tell me in my limbo that all is lost and we are forever doomed. I will not have my vengeance against Francmage nor Mati or the sorceress. Then why are you here?!” Phoenix’s eyes widened “The fire that burns in you, girl. It’s unquenchable. I am here to offer you something of the likes Fenrir offered your wife. I offer you my loyalty. I offer you the flames to rise from your ashes and smite your enemies down with divine fire and death.” Marishi was dubious. “I know your kind. You never offer something for nothing. What is it you want? What is it you shy away from telling me.” Phoenix turned around. “Perceptive. I will live within you. We will be as one. I will share your soul and you shall share mine. Not a fragment. My entire being. It will grant you strength comparable to Rae. For a time. You are dead. That cannot be changed. I can breathe life into you. If my own spirit wanes, you will return to ash. When your duty is complete, you will return to ash. If you are bested, you will return to ash. You cannot escape death. But you can hold it back for a spell. I offer this bargain to you. To save Vanadiel. To save what is left of your dying world. For it is dying. To save your wife from the clutches of a madman that would align himself with your enemies to have her body. What say you mortal? Once more, into the fray?” Marishi was silent. She had no thought upon her mind. She just sat there. Quiet. “Lend me your wings so I may make safe those I love and smite the ruin of my enemies over the mountainside. I agree to your terms.” Phoenix turned oh her heel and approached Marishi quickly. She grabbed her by her throat and picked her up as if she were nothing but a feather. She wings flared from her back. “This will be unpleasant I’m told for I’m to devour you and we are to be singed and seared together. Goodbye Marishi Ten. That name no longer belongs to you, for that soul is now gone. Lost upon the winds.” Her wings closed around them both. Heat and light exploded from the forms illuminating the darkness. In the Crag of Holla, Rae, Arcelia, Gilgamesh, Kagero, Tenzen, and the body of Marishi lay. Each catching their breath. They had pinned the army down, but they were still several thousand strong and their leader was not part of the destruction. Tenzen suddenly gasped and fell to his knees. Kagero rushed to his aid. “Lord Tenzen! Are you alright? Are you wounded? Let me treat you.” Tenzen cried out “She has left me! I cannot hear her anymore. She is gone! The flame in my sword has flickered and faded. She has left me!” Despair racking his body with the absence of the divine. “What?” Kagero began to ask. Arcelia was the first to notice the heat in the room. “Why is it so hot in here? Where is this wind coming from?” There was a waving breeze that brought heat battering down upon them. They began to sweat, then pant. The funeral shroud that covered Marishi was flapping in the wind. Gilgamesh began to move towards her to secure the shroud. Arcelia called out “Gilgamesh! No. Don’t touch her. Something is happening.” The glow in the crag was a peaceful blue from the mothercrystal. The light flickered and faded away to total darkness. All that could be heard was the rough and labored breathing of the party in the room. The mothercrystal flickered once. Then twice. Then caught blaze and gave off an orange and red glow. The heat was pulsating from the crystal. The companions laid on the floor, to be able to breathe from the heat that seared their lungs. Arcelia looked towards Marishi’s body and screeched. “It’s burning the shroud and the body! It’s going to vaporize her. Someone stop it!” But it was too late. The shroud burned away as embers on the divine wind. Marishi’s body dried and became rigid becoming sealed in an ash coffin until her body crumbled to dust and her ashes swept across the floor. Marishi was gone. A loud, angry scream came from Gilgamesh. Born of despair and hatred. What was it all for? Why toil? Why be given hope to have it taken away? The heat waves stopped and the crystal reverted to it’s peaceful blue color. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen like this! Phoenix took her! She didn’t bring her back!” Arcelia screamed. “Why?! What is it all for!? We beg for your guidance Altana and all you do is push the dagger deeper in our backs! I forsake you! You are a lie. You … lied.” Gilgamesh wept. He wept for his dead daughter. He wept for his dead Marishi. He wept for his Rae. He wept for himself. “It is only in the darkest of night can the flame of faith rekindle once more my old friend.” A voice came from everywhere in the room. The mothercrystal changed blue to orange in an instant and the energy housed within burst forth high into the air through the roof of the crag, a flaming beacon that could be seen for malms. A pillar of pure white and orange unable to be contained. The light and the heat returned, but it was no longer a danger. It was like a lovers embrace over them. Protecting them. Keeping them safe and warm. From the light emanating from the crystal, a silhouette could be seen walking toward them. Dressed in black in the attire of the Shinobi of the Far East. Carrying a slender black katana. Hair red brown with white highlights. One eye blood currant red, the other onyx black. She approached them. He boots softly ringing as she walked. “Altana be praised,” Arcelia said reverently. Kagero knelt down. “My master.” Tenzen followed suit. Gilgamesh stared wide-eyed unable to say anything. Rae was silent. Looking at the figure. As the light adjusted, the figure came into focus. Her body was that of Marishi Ten’s. Undamaged and whole. Heatwaves emanating from her body, slightly obstructing her appearance. She smiled at Gilgamesh. “The night is at it’s blackest just before the dawn, my father. You told me that.” Gilgamesh shook and whispered “Marishi?” The woman looked at him quizzically. As if she didn’t understand what he had said. “Marishi? Ah, that is what you used to call me. Marishi Ten, yes. I am her and I am not. But you can call me Marishi.” She turned to each of her friends and smiled. Her eyes stopped on Rae. “You make my heart race and soul soar. Your love is what gives this form life. I can feel her love for you. It’s overpowering. It defies all things. Seen and unseen. It is a power that is far stronger than any destructive force in the universe and will banish all evil. I love you Rae Ten. I love you in Vanadiel. I love you in Hydalean. I love you in the Void. I love you in the Aether. I love you in smoky and dark bars. It is complete. Fenrir is quite pleased with himself I see. Your love gives him strength. Yes. My name is Marishi Ten. Through Phoenix am I able to return to this world again.” Marishi smiled, knelt down next to Rae and kissed her. Her aura flickered and danced as her lips were warm and intoxicating. She smoothed her hair and pulled away from Rae. “I have missed the Sun as it melts away the chill of winter.” She said quietly, only to her. Marishi stood and walked to the mothercrystal and said in a commanding voice “Keeper of Rainbows I invoke thee. We that have passed beyond flame and fire, life and death. Lord of Shadow and Keeper of Dreams, I invoke thee. Council do we need in these dark hours of our worlds.” There was silence in the hall. No movement or miracles or anything for several long moments. Kagero slowly said “Are you sure you said the right thing? Is there an incantation or something like ‘Klaatu Barada Nikto’ or something?” Marishi looked at Kagero for a moment, then looked back at the mother crystal. “They are coming.” Out of a brilliant white sphere glistening in all colors that make up the spectrum materialized a glowing blue animal with a long tail and ruby embedded in its forehead. Dark mists began to form on the ground with sigils and runes being slowly traced to light purple and a portal opened for a demon black and red to emerge. Both stood side by side staring at each one in turn. It was quiet as if both were waiting for the other to speak.
  33. 1 point
    Meanwhile, in Antigua... “Flor,” said the woman -- a round and heavy set creature, with short, plump limbs, and a kindly face. She was motherly, in a very comfortable and warm sense of the word. Every expression upon her sun-kissed face was loving, especially as her black eyes settled upon the young girl who was playing near a set of steps that lead down into a canal. The curious child was dipping her sandal-clad feet into the clear waters, finding it refreshing in the oppressive humidity of the mid morning hustle and bustle. “Be careful by the water, a big wave will come and sweep you away!” The child, with the same black eyes as her mother -- just brighter -- looked up with excitement, as if this were really a possibility. “I will be careful, mama.” The woman nodded her head and turned away, back to her modest kiosk, upon which she had laid out her offering of fresh fruits and vegetables. She had the best produce on the street, and so she kept busy most of the morning hours, when the women came out to buy what they needed to make supper for their families. Picking up a bucket of clean water, and a small bushel of mint leaves, she went back to sprinkling her goods to ensure they kept fresh and did not go soft or off colored. “How much for a pound of tomatoes?” Asked a boy, who was probably not much older than her daughter. He was a skinny thing, with round eyes that were a lighter brown than both hers and her daughters, as well as lighter skin -- still a warm brown, but not quite as tanned. She marveled for a moment at his beauty, and pondered a future match for her daughter. “Ten coppers,” she told him, and grinned internally at the frown that curved his brow as he realized the price was quite inflated. Still, the boy counted out the pennies and handed them over to the woman’s ready and open hand. While he waited for her to bag his newly-bought tomatoes, they both heard an uprising of commotion at the end of the street, where the market, with its many colorful tents, opened up to a shaded plaza. This open, rounded space was the ending point for a spirling of streets, all of which conjoined in the center where a massive fountain shimmered with crystalline water. Brightly colored yellow, orange, and red fish were swimming through the water, appearing like pieces of delicately blown glass gliding through the air. There was no place like it in all of Antigua. Sure, there were more beautiful locations -- but the Marketplace Plaza was busy, vibrant, and alive. This was the heart of city, where people from all walks of life gathered together to purchase goods, to share news, to sit and enjoy the weather. But not today. There was screaming coming from the Plaza, blood curdling shrieks that immediately caused the large woman’s heart to leap from her chest into her throat, choking away her ability to speak. It was a very specific fear that the sound of those screams produced, for it wasn’t just the sound of fear, surprise, or despair -- rather, it was sheer loss. It was the wails of those who had seen the dead, who were still staring at them. And she and the boy could only stand there, at the end of the street, a great distance from the Plaza, watching what appeared to be a massive cloud of black suddenly appear and grow, and then round itself out as if it had hit glass walls that curved its growth. It was a massive orb of darkness, which people were pointing at and running away from. And then there was another, and what had first appeared as darkness, was suddenly recognized as night. Through the black orbs, they saw the night sky of another planet, although they had no way of knowing that. They saw tall buildings of metal and light, and while all Orisian’s knew about the incredible world of technology beyond the golden beaches of their island nation, many of them had never seen it firsthand. “What is that,” asked the boy, gripping his bag of tomatoes to his chest. “I don’t know,” she replied, gripping with equal anxiety at the five copper pieces she had received for her produce. “Look!” they heard someone shout, “Look! Another one -- and another! There’s more!” They saw them rising out of nowhere. Some appeared in the sky, others within buildings, or besides them, of all different sizes, and each, portraying a different view into a strange world. It was then that the woman remembered her daughter -- it was in that moment, when she realized that she could not remember hearing her daughter’s voice, her laughter, or her own fearful question of the events taking place, that the world came tumbling down all around her. The sight that greeted her was something her brain could not process. There, at the foot of the steps that lead down into the water there lay half of a body. It appeared, that the body had been cut in half right above the naval. There was no blood in the water, or at least, none that she could see because the horse sized black orb that appeared to float over the water was preventing her from seeing. She recognized her daughter’s leather sandals, her skinny legs, and the scar over her right knee where she had cut herself one day when she was climbing up and down those same stairs. Now, all she could see was her daughter’s left foot -- twitching. She could decipher what happened. She didn’t understand it. The thought that her daughter was dead never crossed her mind. Instead, she was certain that her daughter was trapped and that the child needed saving. So she bound down the steps toward the edge of the water where the pair of legs were set, and still twitching. She took hold of the girls hips and pulled, and to her horror -- her true and unabashed horror -- her child appeared terribly light, much lighter than she remembered from today in the morning. When she pulled, the other half of her daughter did not come out of the bubble of black. Instead, it rained entrails, blood, and gore from the disturbed cavity where her stomach had once been connected to her body. It poured out of her and finally sullied the water, turning it red and then a light, dull pink. She didn’t realize she was screaming until the small boy, still gripping his bag of tomatoes, had his hands upon her shoulders and was pulling her back and away. But she shoved him away, she swatted at his attempts to keep her away from the black orb. “My Florestia is in there! My baby needs my help…” She fell forward toward the water, her hands extended out automatically, to catch herself on the surface of the black orb. In her mind, all that mattered was saving her child. But, rather than find the solid surface of a real and material thing, she found nothing, and fell straight through. The agony was near instantaneous, but her head was severed from her body before she could use her voice box to properly produce a sound. Her bodiless corpse, now appearing very much like her child’s, consisted of a head that floated in the water, a pair of arms that had been cut from the elbows, and her own feet, although they did not twitch.  Much the same was happening all throughout the city, inside and outside of homes, without warning, without a chance to escape.
  34. 1 point
    Dolor Aeternum

    Illyrian Bestiary

    Class C Orbiters – Bio mechanical creatures with black fleshy shells that hover around and are known to circle their prey in droves before moving in to consume them hence their name. They travel in swarms and are heavily attracted to darkness. They have no eyes, small mouths, and can manipulate magnetic forces to stay afloat. The Esperan – Ever since Illyria existed, an unknown entity has taken a liking to possessing all manners of creatures, taking over all mental and physical faculties. The entity’s power is so vast it has been rumored to control hordes of creatures to achieve some nefarious goal. Humans, vampires, dragons, and all manners of beasts are not immune to its influence. Those that are possessed can be distinguished by a dark veinous structure that protrudes from some portion of their body. Many have been known to explode when facing a losing battle while others seem to possess whatever skills their hosts are adept at. Known to wait until the most opportune moment to strike, be on the lookout for their stealthy and sometimes ‘kamikaze’ like tactics. Class B The Oscuro – A much maligned anomaly that is signaled by billowing dark mists emerging out of thin air. Thick and suffocating, its aim is to consume all in its path. Few have entered the Oscuro and returned alive and even fewer returned unscathed. Renders – Tall (tallest rumored to be 10 feet) and thin creatures that are eyeless but seem to rely on other supernatural senses to focus on their prey. Several blades protrude from the sleek black skin of their arms. Renders are extremely quick (move at a speed similar to traditional vampires) and aim to tear their prey apart relentlessly. Anular – These 8 ft tall creatures create unique anti-magic fields around their bodies extending for 100ft around them. Their huge muscular frames make them dangerous in close quarter combat if you allow their slow approach to catch you off guard. It is rumored that there are a few that move like Renders, perhaps due to unauthorized scientific experiments by the Illyrian scientific council.
  35. 1 point
    "No..." she whispered. It was too late. Alliana touched her shoulder and in the next instance she watched the fae rip out her heart and shove the seed into her. It burrowed into the empty space and began to slowly bloom. Its vines sprouted, becoming connective tissue and the organs she needed. It began to ooze out of the seed, black ooze dissolving the unneeded organs. Morven's skin became poreclain, as her eyes were black and yellow. Her lithe form became curvier than before. Her wings were ripped black and purple. She fell against the tree limp. Her mind started to fog as the seed dug its claws into the divine's left hand. Pulling forth secrets and dark thoughts. The seed pumped more of its ooze into the fae as she was now becoming an artifact fae. Her mind a field to be twisted and molded. Morven fell to her knees before the fae. Her body ached in pain. The seed pumping forth in both faes, twisting Alliana more into darkness of her own evil secrets and Morven into the monster she hid. Her hands clawed at the ground as her mind began to twist. "...Corrupt me my Queen..." came the whisper of the fae. "Mold me into your perfect vision. I am your servant, your tool. Your divine left hand. Corrupt me with the darkness, the vile thoughts of your heart." Morven then looked up. She had lost the fight.
  36. 1 point
    Something changed inside Alliana. Her old self lost the final battle, dying with a scream of defeat. Something cold and manipulative had taken its place. She looked up at Lex, then at Morven. "Do you really think I could go home now?" She raised a brow, speaking calmly. "What do I have to go home to, compared to what could be accomplished here?" She smiled then; a hard smile from which all kindness had vanished. "Oh, I'd say I've already become something monstrous, wouldn't you?" She let a hand slide gently through Morven's hair, still smiling. She then leaned in and whispered, "I'm not afraid anymore. But perhaps you should be." She laughed lightly and then turned to face Lex. "Is this what you wanted?" She held out her hand, meaning for him to take it. She could see it now: Bringing all the Faes to their knees, her their queen, him their king. Unstoppable, immortal rulers. She looked over at Morven. "You should take this chance; join us, become like us. Together we will rule over our kind with an iron fist."
  37. 1 point
    Alliana spun around and gasped. Lex! She almost hugged him, but stood very still instead. "I thought..." She didn't know exactly what she thought. Mathias had said that Lex didn't even exist... Were they all liars? Trying to corrupt her, to say whatever needed to make her their servant? She looked hesitantly at Lex, distrust clear in her eyes. "You lied to me," she said in a cold voice. She crossed her arms over her chest. New desires started rushing over her. To kill the Fae... Or to make her an artifact... Another servant of the darkness... "I can't think!" She buried her hands in her hair and sunk to her knees. "Lex, what's happening to me? Did you do this to me? You didn't tell me it would be like this!" She felt like she was losing her mind. Her old and new self were fighting a raging battle inside her, a battle her old self was doomed to lose. And yet she couldn't bring herself to let it go this way. Embracing the darkness would mean losing her freedom. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus. It was as if a voice was whispering to her, but it was her own voice; telling her that she wanted to devour the Fae... The Fae she had so longed to meet, to learn from. She slowly rose again, opening her eyes to look at Morven. "You shouldn't have come here," she whispered to her. The Fae would surely die or become like them; those were her only options. Alliana wouldn't be able to fight her new urges much longer. Looking at Lex once more, hatred suddenly dripped from her words. "You made me like this, didn't you?" She felt a sudden urge to attack him, to kill him; the feeling was suffocating her. She fought it back and closed her eyes again. "You didn't tell me it would be like this," she repeated in a voice suddenly stripped of emotion.
  38. 1 point
    Oh, how Alliana thought she had free will, freed from control. That was farther from the truth. She wouldn't escape her fate. The shackles were already upon her, the seed. Lex had done his job well and if she was to comply, possibly he would bring her back. Now that he watched his work be performed, the demon left the two standing there. Morven eyed Alliana seeing how dark she was becoming. Yet her freedom was being stolen. Lex appeared from behind Alliana as he watched the demon go. Weird that man would appear and try to take him out. Yet, there would be a problem since the two probably undid his work of enslaving Alliana. Morven eyed Alliana seeing how dark she was becoming, yet she was losing her freedom and will, even her mind. "Well, that was unexpected. I leave for a moment to find you the whereabouts of our treasure hunt and that demon swoops in and destroys my work." Lex said annoyed. "Alliana..." Lex paused before seeing her and smiled. Well it seemed the seed was working and she became an artifact. However, she probably wouldn't keep with him as he did do a small amount of lying. Morven sat on her knees as she didn't know how to feel about this. Would she be spared? Changed? "Oh ho! The left hand fae of the Divine. I think she'd be prettier as an enslaved fae of darkness. Alliana, you look even more beautiful." The seed pumped more ooze into her, though it formed chains around her new withered heart. It whispered such terrible desires, telling her how she craved the taste of the fae, how she as in the seat of a powerful position could aide her in such ways. That she wanted to taste the flesh of the fae and turn her into a vile creature. The ooze destroying and corroding her free will, pushing forward more and more power into her system. Alliana as an artifact, was a lich fae after all. Any she killed would come back as a servant. Her endeavored slave. No one ever truly died in the islands. The seed whispered a truly dark desire into the girl. How she would hunger. Lex wouldn't move then as the seed whispered as it poisoned her mind with twisted desires and visions. Morven eyed Alliana as she didn't know that she was enslaved to the seed. And though it gave her power, it took her.
  39. 1 point
    Alliana frowned in confusion. Lex wasn't real...? But she was so sure... She looked at Mathias with her deep yellow eyes. "You... gift me...?" She remembered what Lex had said about the pain that the Faes had caused her. But if Lex wasn't real... She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. She couldn't quite figure out what was real and what was not. She opened them once more and turned to look at Morven. She gently let her pale fingers rest on the Fae's cheek. "You want me to make her like us," she said, not turning to look at Mathias. "But that would be so awfully painful..." She tilted her head and looked into the eyes of the Fae. Then she twirled around to face Mathias. "You can't expect me to make another Fae artifact. I'm the only one. And I will remain the only one," she said with a devilish grin. She then skipped a few steps to get closer to him and rested her mechanical hand on his chest. "If we do have a past together, like you say..." She hesitated, looking up at him with a mischievous glimpse in her eyes. "... Then you should know that you can't control me." She took a few steps back and laughed briefly, twirling again. She felt so powerful. Like nothing could bring her down; nothing could control her. The world was hers to control. She knew that she had changed, and she felt magnificent.
  40. 1 point

    OOC: A Fellowship in Frost

    If it's okay that I don't make a character sheet I can reply now, it's just a little hectic for me, but you bet your buns I can make a character sheet soon as I can grab some internet.. ( I use phone data and a small phone for every thing)
  41. 1 point

    Llewellyn, Mathias

    Updated, Reference Pics:
  42. 1 point
    Your turn now, @Ayumiand @The Alexandrian! Yours too, @carrionjackal, if you're still around. We'd love to have you back:).
  43. 1 point

    OOC: A Fellowship in Frost

    Thank you for being patient with me! I've had kind of a rough week. I'll have a reply up very shortly :)
  44. 1 point

    How far

    Leoa looked down at her hands and noticed there was flesh upon the pearly bones of her fingers, the curve of her palm, and more on her wrists. This strange shift between human and skeleton often caught her off guard, more so when she was acknowledged by someone who shouldn't have the capability of seeing her. Koji is a powerful being with eyes everywhere - in everything! - for all his formidable powers he should not have seen her through the veil of her divinity. It made her little dead heart skip a beat when he acknowledged her; thankfully it was only because of her inability to conquer her powers in such a short time fully. Celine was also shocked by it, perhaps more than the God of Death herself, that she even turned from the sight of her Emporer to peek at Leoa. Most times it was a skeleton wearing the ucissore robes, other times it was a tired looking Leoa (younger, sure but still tired), or it would be a combination of both. It was tiring for her to lurk through shadow all the time; during their journey, she was either next to Celine or within her shadow, more often in the wilds where none dared to traverse, did Leoa freely reveal herself to the world. "My Emperor, Kaori has been retaken." Straight to business, the woman returned her honey gaze to her ruler. "I believe that my husband is up to something." Leoa parted from her wall to stand next to her companion, offering any strength, if it's even needed. Celine stood before her other half with a proud chin set with determination. Her hands were perfectly placed at her side, leaving her open - the amount of trust ... "He had his Grand Inquisitor Caelius hypnotize Desmond, and because my child has a weak mind, he was victim to the deed. Kaori has been returned to Kadia - safely." Leoa understood that Desmond would now be an enemy due to his weakness and his stupidity - two things he got from his father. There is no time to fully explain to Koji the reasons why Desmond was weak and even if she did, what would it matter? Her words won't bring back Kaori nor will they charge past her husband's armies. Right now she lacks the strength even to stay hidden from the eyes of the curious; there is no way she can adequately attack her husband. The benefits of her being here are the secrecy; no one except for Celine and a selected few knows that she has risen from her tomb. "I wanted you to hear of my failures from myself and none other." "And my child's inability to be less than a failure. Your trust in Desmond is not misguided; he has betrayed his father on Celine and Kaori's behalf, set aside the safety of his land to harbor your Concubine and child. This backhanded move from my husband should have been expected, but Desmond is not a guarded individual when it comes to familiars." Celine gave a faint smile, the harshness and love Leoa spoke with about her child showed her actual status as a mother. This is an unforgivable folly from all parties. "I'm here to help you Emporer Koji, to get your child back and return her to your lands. I understand the relationships between Kadia and your growing empire is eradicated by this situation and I support you in that decision."
  45. 1 point

    Constructing the House Singlance Manor

    "Yeah, well, are these your horses right here?" Thurgood asks, knowing perfectly well that they are, "they're really nice; probably a couple of very well-trained, noble steeds fit for a couple of knights, that I'm sure House Uldwar paid far more than what you would take as a bribe. But how would they react to some very loud sound that's never been produced on Terrenus before? Maybe something like-" Then Thurgood reaches in and mashes the horn switch on his pickup steering wheel, making the horn sound, and he hopes, scare the horses into bolting, forcing Dick and Dork to spend quite a few hours, if not more than a day, walking back to Andelusia, or trying to find their horses.
  46. 1 point

    A levee to stop the flow

    As the not quite dead soldier rose to strike down Ankou; his fallen comrades were also rising; much faster than a living person could. Through their eyes the Lich saw the man preparing to strike, and was already moving to counter. With a thought, the fallen lunged forward to intercept the soldier before he could get much momentum behind the swing he aimed at the necromancers neck. In a matter of seconds the man had risen to attack, and been restrained. One of the dead restraining him had its hand clamped around the wrist of his sword arm. A silent command from its master caused it to tighten its grip until the sound of breaking bones was heard; and the sword fell from the man's hand. To his credit, the soldier never screamed, impressing the Lich. Ankou knelt down in front of the restrained man to retrieve the sword, never breaking eye contact as he did. When he rose, he twirled the blade around in his hand a few times before turning to face the soldier. "This is a fine blade," he said, "And yours was a fine attempt at striking me down. If nothing else, know that I will remember you." The soldier was still glaring defiantly at Ankou as the corpses forced him to kneel with his head bowed to the ground. Raising the sword above his head, the Lich silently brought it down, decapitating the soldier with a single stroke. Once the body stopped twitching, the corpses allowed it to slump to the ground. Flicking the blood off the blade, he turned his attention to the soldier who had pretended to run away. The man was staring at the display in stunned silence; but upon meeting Ankou's gaze, he seemed to gain a burst of determination. He drew his weapon and charged at the Lich. Reversing his grip on the sword, Ankou threw it like a spear, impaling the man through the chest and throwing him to the ground. The Lich walked over to the mortally wounded man trailed by his newly created servants, standing over him and looking down. It seemed like the soldier was trying to say something, but all that came out were bloody coughs. Ankou grabbed the hilt of the sword and let his aura flow through it and into the man; who thrashed violently for a few seconds before going still. As he plucked the sword from the dead body, Ankou noticed that backup had arrived for the now deceased men. They barely had time to take in the sight in front of them before they were hit with another wave of necromantic energy, killing them instantly. But instead of instantly reanimating them, the Lich gave a simple command to the servants he already had. "Make sure they're dead." Swords were drawn, and the servants moved forward to follow their masters command. When he was sure the men were dead, Ankou would reanimate them and move on. He felt certain that he would run into the Peacekeepers sooner rather than later. He needed only continue what he was doing.
  47. 1 point

    Liberating The Slaver's Alcove

    @Aleksei @roboblu @ODSTDRAGON @-Lilium- Okay, we all seem to be quite sure of who we're each bringing to the table. ODST, I think the body snatcher would be greater entertainment and a nice wrench in the plot that can work out, but may not. The other selected characters seem like good fits as well. Even if Desmond is a bit ironic in one way or another. @Deus Ex Aizen I think the best bet for a launch will definitely be from Alethea considering the quest itself. Though for timeline purposes I'm going to have to place this before the Last Chance invasion, otherwise I'm not certain that is an actual option or when this mission would be happening IC. @supernal I'm close to closing off a couple of running plot and preparing to get into the formal stages of starting this IC in terms of everyone meeting and planning things out IC. Considering the current announcements, I don't mind waiting until one drops off if that even matters. ?
  48. 1 point

    Ursa Madeum OOC

    Yes, I intended them to be minor and I have no problem with that (they are buttholes so feel free to be mean to them) I have not done the thread to canonize it but I can get working on that.
  49. 1 point
    Here is a sneak peak of the lower tier of opposition for those who want to beat up some monsters: Class C Orbiters – Bio mechanical creatures with black fleshy shells that hover around and are known to circle their prey in droves before moving in to consume them hence their name. They travel in swarms and are heavily attracted to darkness. They have no eyes, small mouths, and can manipulate magnetic forces to stay afloat. The Esperan – Ever since Illyria existed, an unknown entity has taken a liking to possessing all manners of creatures, taking over all mental and physical faculties. The entity’s power is so vast it has been rumored to control hordes of creatures to achieve some nefarious goal. Humans, vampires, dragons, and all manners of beasts are not immune to its influence. Those that are possessed can be distinguished by a dark veinous structure that protrudes from some portion of their body. Many have been known to explode when facing a losing battle while others seem to possess whatever skills their hosts are adept at. Known to wait until the most opportune moment to strike, be on the lookout for their stealthy and sometimes ‘kamikaze’ like tactics. Class B The Oscuro – A much maligned anomaly that is signaled by billowing dark mists emerging out of thin air. Thick and suffocating, its aim is to consume all in its path. Few have entered the Oscuro and returned alive and even fewer returned unscathed. Renders – Tall (tallest rumored to be 10 feet) and thin creatures that are eyeless but seem to rely on other supernatural senses to focus on their prey. Several blades protrude from the sleek black skin of their arms. Renders are extremely quick (move at a speed similar to traditional vampires) and aim to tear their prey apart relentlessly. Anular – These 8 ft tall creatures create unique anti-magic fields around their bodies extending for 100ft around them. Their huge muscular frames make them dangerous in close quarter combat if you allow their slow approach to catch you off guard. It is rumored that there are a few that move like Renders, perhaps due to unauthorized scientific experiments by the Illyrian scientific council.
  50. 1 point
    viii. The night is quiet. Nai shuffles into the room, footfalls soft but measured, the door barely creaking under his steady hand. The figure in the bed stirs at his approach. He takes off his armor, his facade: a lost boy at the feet of his mother’s sickbed. “My child,” Lady Lynae says, soft but so very strong, a wrinkled hand reaching to stroke the top of Nai’s head. “I am not blind to the way you exhaust yourself for my sake.” She shifts her hand, tapping at the dark circles under his eyes, the eyes he has inherited from her. “I am doing fine, Mother.” He hesitates, stumbles over his thoughts before continuing. “Varda and Aspen tell me I should go out, see the outside world again, now that King Damien is dead.” “Ah, yes. Long live the king, damned tyrant that he is.” She leans against the pillows, eyes at half-mast but sharp. “It would do you well to listen to your sisters.” His voice is strained as he answers. “I am not ready to give you up.” “You need not,” his mother says, light and melodic: Esme’s inheritance. “But you must learn to live for your own sake.” Nai swallows, his heart lodged in his throat. Wordlessly, he goes through the motions of giving her the tonic he is yet to perfect: the product of years and years of work and sleepless nights. When he is done, Lady Lynae watches with an unreadable gaze as her second son dons his mask once again, the mask of the cold scientist that keeps the world at bay. As he leaves, he offers her a final parting shot that brings a quiet smile to her lips: “I shall try.”
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