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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
    Illyrian Scientific Division Event Objectives: 1. Evacuate the citizens of Antigua or save yourself. 2. Tend to the wounded, if so inclined. 3. Fight off the dark creatures that will emerge from the random pockets scattered around Ceyana. The tougher creatures may drop sweet sweet loot. (List of creatures to come) Bonus: Attempt to find and confront Havoc and Darkness to stop prevent further loss by engaging them. This will not stop the success of this catastrophic event but it could modify how or make things worse. They are hidden deep within the rainforest. Good luck! Name: Heron Leneri/ Luz Yllende Affiliation: Illyrian Scientists Location: Illyrian Scientific Division Objective: Discovering the beginning of the event Heron’s day had already gotten off to a rough start, with the Scientific Council sending one of their representatives to tell him to shut down his experiment and relinquish all of his findings to Luz the next morning. Years of trying to implement a faster way to exchange goods with other partners outside of the plane that Illyria existed in was now seen as a waste of time to lazy fools who were too comfortable in their self-made thrones to realize that his home could still be better than it was…still do so much more. They have been blessed for so long with an abundance of everything they needed to survive, but did they not remember the dark centuries that preceded this? Were they so present-minded that they could not see that troubles would still lie ahead? It wouldn’t do his feeble heart any good to dwell on it now so as he began to put away his items and have his assistants pack up all of his data, all he could do was let out a sigh before he heard a high pitched noise from across the lab. “Sir, we are picking up some odd readings outside of the spire. The readings fall in line with what we get when we activate several of our pathway coils together.” A younger assistant chimed in. “That set us back weeks on our research……Oh well doesn’t matter now. Let the scientific council worry about that mess. We need to start thinking about finding another scientist to work with.” The younger assistant realized that perhaps it was too soon to mention that but ambition was always key when trying to escalate up through the science divisions. “No offense sir” Heron shook his head while looking at the thin monitor hovering in front of them that was connected wirelessly to several others that hovered above them. Suddenly a flurry of sounds similar to the one that started this interaction were heard and Heron immediately jumped into action. “Start recording all of this data in real time. You, give me my tether so I can communicate with Luz.” Heron furrowed his brows and he could almost feel his synapses firing quickly as he wondered what could be causing all of these dimensional spurts. Had someone conducted some sketchy research and miscalculated? Those fledglings like the ones he hired sometimes loved to act brashly and without proper respect for the scientific methods. Shaking his head given that he figured no one was intelligent or foolish enough to even attempt to coordinate the quantity of anomalies that he was currently viewing, he looked around for the assistant he had sent to get his tether. “Where is my tether?!” An assistant returned empty-handed, stuttering for fear of negative reprisal. “U..uh…uh I can’t f-f-f-find it. I looked in all of your usual spots sir” Huffing and clearly disturbed by what he considered the inadequacy of one of his employees, he was about to begin a slew of lashing verbal assaults at everyone around him before he remembered his feeble heart again and calmed himself down. “Ok just run over and find a fellow and let them know I need you to use their tether to contact Luz. Let her know that what I believed would happen has finally happened and she needs to let the council…hell let the Light of Illyria know we need to get everyone to tackle this problem now!” The kingdom of Illyria was a compact area if you take into account the near million inhabitants that somehow managed to cram themselves into compartments lest they opt to cohabitate within a pocket zone. The area that surrounded Illyria was treacherous and unforgiving, however, housing all manner of creatures created by the enemies of the past and the hubris of those who were not respectful of their king. Heron’s only concern, however, was that he could continue his research and this odd event while obviously a portent of bad things to come could help his cause into ears that were much more powerful than the old fools within the council. The young assistant frantically searched for Luz, asking with short breath about her whereabouts for quite some time until someone finally managed to give her some decent intel. Luz had been rumored to be scolding someone regarding their recent miscalculations of the data from their agricultural experiments attempting to infuse them with enchantments for use in a pinch. The lasting effects were far too lopsided to be accurate and such a thing was a stain on this department’s name she needed to wash clean. The young assistant arrived in the vicinity and gained her bearings by listening to the yelling in the distance. “We do not do mediocre work here you simpleton. Were you using the right equipment? Did you employ the best enchanters or pick some off of some slum somewhere?! I should suspend you for your stupidity…you know what…..” “Ms. Luz…um…uh….” A pair of fierce grey eyes shot in the young assistant’s direction, silver tresses contrasting sunkissed flesh well. Luz was a tall imposing figure that clearly maintained herself well as rumor had it she had an intense workout regimen that rivalled their ranger division. Dressed with form fitting fabric that held some sort of ethereal sheen to it and several insignias that denoted her place within the scientific division, she was pleasing to the eye but her reputation for being unabashedly blunt and controlling did her no favors with the Illyrian men. “Out with it already!” “Heron sent me to tell you that there are some dimensional anomalies occurring outside the kingdom and that he believes it is serious enough to warrant everyone’s attention” “Of course he does. How convenient that it happens to be on the eve of the end of his pipedream” “But ma’am….he seems serious. He even mentioned that king Raylon should know about it. I don’t think he would do that just to save our project” Luz’s delicate hands stroked her own chin before she shot a glare at the scientist she was just speaking to suggesting she had yet to finish with him but the assault was delayed for now. “Fine, I will round up whoever I can. If it turns out he is wrong then I will make sure they laugh him out of the department one last time.” The young assistant just nodded and slinked away to rest somewhere from having run so much. Heron began analyzing the data from the initial dimensional anomalies and noticed a familiar signature within the waves that were being emitted. Years ago when he was just starting his research, he had picked up on these readings only to find out the portals that were created had been sanctioned by king Raylon himself as he had managed to broker a deal with some foreign queen for some much needed supplies when he had feverishly inquired about it. He’d learn much later about the scandal it had caused given that foreign queen was some sort of vampyre named Irene Gabriela DuGrace. He had believed that no further contact was going to be established after they became self-sustaining. That couldn’t have possibly changed. Whipping his head to the other side, he had almost forgotten that Luz and those she convinced to come were urging him to deliver some sort of explanation about why he had forced Luz to bring them here. So it began… “My fellow co-workers. I believe that something or someone is creating several compact tears into another realm. Most of my initial data seems to point to the realm of that vampyre queen….” Several people gasped in horror and others huffed in disgust while a select few just arched a brow before Heron continued. “I suggest we come together to figure out more about these tears and gain control over these areas before it is too late. We never knew much about what resided within that realm before and were never given the opportunity to see for ourselves but I fear Illyria is in danger once again.” Some shouted “What if your readings are wrong”. Others kept it short by just yelling “Lies” or “Fool” before storming off. The few that remained were far too few in number to have ever prevented what began to occur hours after. Flickers of Ceyana’s landscape would appear and disappear violently, giving way to humid air and vegetation. All manner of flora and fauna would also appear, with some unfortunate beasts getting quartered or imploding once they arrived. Glimpses of a populated market were reported on the outskirts of the Illyrian spire, with horrific screams contributing to a cacophony of pain and strife that pounded into the peace that had once been. Bodies of those who were out on data collection runs or hunting for specimens decorated the rough lands outside in a macabre but potent display that this event was on a scale that exceeded man alone. What was left of their bodies were seared along their extremities from being torn viciously by an unknown energy into what they would find was Orisia. The beginnings of the rapture of Illyria were some of the most chaotic times since the dark centuries preceding the Light’s arrival. The litany of portals that were created were slowly beginning to coalesce as both realms fought for dominance against the whims of two deities. It would seem inevitable change was coming and neither Illyria nor Orisia would ever be the same. Antigua Map and City Key: Bestiary Thread:
  31. 1 point

    Respect that Makes Calamity

    Beachfront Bilk’s was a somewhat luxurious bistro in Last Chance’s Market District. Arched openings of brick from the inside seating area opened to a gated, vineyard themed enclosure that looked out over the sea. So near the beach, it afforded guests all the amenities of a coastal resort during their visits. Good drinks, better food, and the best networking the city had to offer for high-profile businessmen and women could be found here. As such, Bilk’s boasted a most enthralling crowd exchanging most enthralling ideas on the typical basis. Most of the bistro’s patrons had fallen under the illusion that, because of their status, they enjoyed a cushion from the outside world’s mayhaps and mishaps. The fact of the matter was that they were anything but cushioned, and their status alone was the stuff out of which their imaginative buffer was made. When a pirate band of thieves and murderers known as the Legion of Doom reared its ugly head up from over the northern horizon, much of Last Chance rose up in arms. Beachfront Bilk’s however, rose their glasses in observatory entertainment. From an elevated patio on the southernmost stretches of beach, where a festive tent had even gathered for healing to take place, the fat cats of Last Chance and those who had come for a drink or a meeting watched the fireworks display begin. All of them in their suits and gowns felt jolly good, really part of a smashing revolution in which they had actually no part. Explosions in the sky came closer, debris leafing down in slow arcs upon the outdoors area of the restaurant. The population of the healing tent tripled, then quadrupled. Commoners, lowborns and lesser demi-humans came in the bistro’s doors without a place to sit just to have refuge from the chaos of the streets. Bilk’s restaurant was filling up with a panicked populace. That was when the cushy patrons stopped feeling quite so cushioned. Suddenly the northwestern corner of the patio’s spired enclosure breathed up, and blew outward into millions of heart-wrenching fragments. The bistro’s residents leapt up in frightened and misplaced confusion. None of the city could be exempt from this carnage, not even them, but they had thought themselves so lucky. Rian Bilk, a white-haired man with circular spectacles and an ever-suspendered countenance of white blouse and brown slacks, descended from the second floor office quarters of the bistro just as the place erupted in chaos. His hand slid along the railing almost reminiscently as his customers fled the premises or vied between fleeing and taking cover there. He saw among the flock of crows, who gathered round and then fled from the dead so readily, a stationary figure. She stood in one of the three brick arches, the forefront of the beach painted with smoggy black and crimson sound. Rian came to stand beside Riforte, his arms crossed behind his back. “Fine day we’re having here,” said the stranger to Riforte with a lazy ease that juxtaposed unnaturally with the situation at hand. He didn’t look at her, but just stood beside her amid the panic with eyes on the embattled beach. The raid on Last Chance had attracted all sorts of attention, both good and bad, for a reasons of innumerable origin. Some were those who pined for the pleasures Terran law forbade, who saw a viable means of attaining them in the leader of the Legion of Doom, a knight named Dredge. Some had come to observe just as the upper class who now found themselves victim to the dangers at hand. Some yet had long been in Last Chance. Long had their nails entrenched in the city's very infrastructure, and saw that a certain fruit had come to Last Chance ripe for the picking. This was a day both for dying valorous deaths and breathing awake forsaken lives.
  32. 1 point

    Are your characters like you?

    I had an interesting conversation with @Alexei the other day in which we discussed how our characters were similar and/or different from ourselves. For some of us, each character reflects a different facet of our own personality; for others, creating a fictional character provides an opportunity to live vicariously in a way we might not normally act. For you, personally, what goes into the creation of a character? Feel free to comment with your own musings and reflections here.
  33. 1 point
    Alliana suddenly laughed and clapped. "Splendid!" Though drained of power, she felt immensely proud of herself for creating another corrupted Fae. One who was her servant, who would follow her every command. She reached out her hands to Morven to help her up. "My dear. We shall do wonders to this land." She whispered the words to her as if they were a secret only they shared. "Soon your transformation shall be complete. Who knows how the seed will affect you? Oh, I can't wait to find out!" She then let go of Morven's hands, looking through the fog. "Lex? Didn't we have a treasure hunt to see to? You did promise me jewelry and weapons, after all," she purred. She wondered if there were any more Faes in this land; hidden, perhaps. She hoped so. She imagined an entire army of her very own kind of Dark Faes, doing her every bidding. She would rule over them as their queen; such was her heart's deepest, darkest desire, now brought forth by the seed in her chest. She desired power.
  34. 1 point

    Constructing the House Singlance Manor

    The sound startled the horses, nearly causing them to bolt off the cliff before they were kept under control by their riders. It was clear this one had little regard for manners, but the knights had already been made aware of that particular character trait. Rather then wait around to be further harassed by the upstart lord, the knights figured it may have been best to return to the city and to reconnect with their fellow warriors. "Yes, that is certainly a different sound, my lord, good one." Engvar said with a chuckle. "Perhaps it is time we head back to the capital, the sun is starting to get rather hot, don't you think Sir Richard?" "Departing may be best. The heat is beginning to rise." With that both knights mounted upon their steeds and rode off towards Andelusia. It wasn't the most fruitful of missions in terms of information gathered, but Sir Engvar had a feeling there was something to this place that Thurgood was interested in. Lord Uldwar was sure to be interested in what they have to report, but he couldn't afford to go back and forth between the islands, instead he planned on sending hawks as was planned before their interaction with the House Singlance leader. "So what do we do now?" Sir Richard asked as they traveled out of earshot. "I know a few people that work underneath the governors." Engvar replied, his mind working on a plan. "Throw a few coins around and we can figure out what they're planning and slow them down before they can get it done. Beuaracracy is such a fickle profession sometimes." Yet a other scheme, another trick to get the upper hand on their political adversary. Oh well, at least he could find himself a good drink when they got back to Andelusia.
  35. 1 point
    Venus Sprite

    A Fellowship in Frost

    Torie went from feeling an awkward do-I-tell-him-or-don't-I as she watched Reitu make the shoes, to one of appreciation as she watched him labour on over the better part of an hour. She let him grab her massive, dinnerplate-sized paws and measure them, then fit the shoes to them, adjusting them again and again. "Thank you, Reitu. You have a good soul," she said, smiling over at him as he affixed the boots to her feet. She hadn't worn boots since she'd taken animal form, at least five years ago. It felt very strange, and she noticed a little too late one back leg was flicking with a desperation to get the boot off, as if it had a mind of its own. At last the main meal came around. Those preparing the food insisted on cooking it before serving it to Torie, even though she would like nothing more than to eat the heart out of a raw buck every now and then. Nevertheless she took to her meal with gusto. Torie had a magically-enhanced appetite at the best of times, and after a whole day walking it had virtually doubled. Torie was initially a little miffed that Azul had moved his plate away from her, though then she picked up on what he said about cats. "I thought this tasted really stringy for deer," she said, looking down at the bone on her large wooden plate. "This is kind of like cannibalism for me... isn't it? Oh well," she said, and started stripping off the last bits of flesh from around the joints. When she was finished she waved over to Simot to fetch her some more - it was always the job of the children to serve the adults during meal time. But Simot shook his head and pointed at Chief Kasat, who shook his head. Why? Torie said with a shrug, and Kasat smiled his old, wrinkly face and patted his own lean stomach, then pointed to Torie. Torie rolled her eyes and looked away, eyes drifting to Azul's plate again. "Are you going to eat all that?" she said.
  36. 1 point

    Hello There

    welcome aboard
  37. 1 point
    "Silly girl. Lex was never here to begin with. He was just an illusionary defense. You made him up." Mathias replied as he approached her once more. The push didn't put him off. "My dearest Alliana you don't remember do you? Our past interactions? Would I lie to you?" Mathias then leaned his form against the tree as Morven stood there watching the two. What plans did he have in store? The fae looked at Alliana, her mind probably now formed into her new identity. She was now an artifact. The man grinned and cupped her chin, eyeing the beautiful craftsmanship. He smiled as he let go. "Alliana, you are my beloved fae. You cannot escape your fate. And your ignorance will not help you either. I gift you the fae to test our your power. Then we are off to gather the treasure of old. A powerful relic." Morven's eyes widen then as she wondered if Alliana would oblige. Would sbe obey?
  38. 1 point
    As the beast leaped at her, the mad woman seemed to moan in both anticipation and pleasure. It has come to this point that both combatants have shown their strongest sides and one mistake from either of them would surely cement one's defeat. But it was also at this point of the fight that Sera no longer cared for the outcome. Now that she has unleashed the Lady's grace, Sera could no longer afford to ne careful. She cam fill it, the power coursing through her core, strength filling her up to the brim. It filled her so much she could explode anytime. It was taking all her willpower just to keep the Lady's grace flowing through her contained. While she was distracted, the beast managed to close its beak upon her midsection attempting to tear her flesh away. But Sers will not allow it. Without any limbs to fend him off, she decidied to flex her torso muscles. By amplifying her muscle strength to the limit, her abdominal muscles stopped the beak from digging in too deep and also managed to hold it inside her. Even as the foreign object stabbed into the center of her body, even as blood flowed from where their bodies are joined, Sera clenched her teeth through all of it. Having a firm grasp on the monster, she unleashed her next spell. "BLACK ANNAL STYLE: MAXIMUM HEAVY POUND!" As she screamed the spell's name, a large glowing spell circle appeared appered with the two combatants in the center. The sorcery's effect would multiply gravity's effect on both fighters sending the pair plummeting to the ground at death inducing speeds.
  39. 1 point
    “Clever. Who’s funeral? Like you don’t know!” Marishi laughed. She crossed her leg and lit another cigarette. “We’ll come back to that. Tell me; does your husband know your whereabouts? Does he know that you sneak off in the middle of the night to speakeasies for sex and romance? Does he know that it’s with another woman? Does he know you’ve left him?” Marishi asked Rae. She started out with the hard questions. Staring at her with Onyx and Sanguine eyes. “Who’s funeral. Who’s funeral indeed?” The waiter ushered in and apologized for his interrupting. “Madame Marishi, you have a call. They say it’s urgent.” Marishi finished her cigarette. “Lead me to the phone my dashing knight.” She said. The last sentence didn’t sound right to her ears and a sharp pain sliced through her head. As quickly as it was there, it was gone. She picked up the phone. “Buckingham Palace, Queen speaking, how might I be of service?” She quipped. “Don’t play dumb with me, bitch. I know who, what, and where you are.” The smile faded from her face and she looked back at Rae at the table. Rae was looking at her, growing alarmed. “Enjoying my wife? I bet you are you disgusting lesbian. Dancing around my city like you own the joint. With my property on your arm. You’re disgusting. I think I’ll have you committed to a sanitorium. I’ve heard they have ways of “reeducating” whores like you.” Marishi had been in a panic at first, but she was calm now resolute. Deluded Senator Francmage I presume. It’s a pleasure to hear the warm tone in your voice. Commit me? My dear boy, you’d have to have the stones to come and get me first.” She replied with contempt in her voice. “And don’t forget that you never married Rae. She has never been yours. She never will be. She’d put a bullet in her head if faced with such a fate. My ‘dear friend’ Francmage. I call you a small contemptuous addled little liar. You know what bar I’m in. What bar we’re in. She is right where she is supposed to be. Come on down and take her if you think yourself man enough, even if I am ‘whore lesbian’, I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be you fucking coward.” It was quiet on the other end for a moment. Finally came his voice, dark with rage, “I’ll see you soon.” Marishi replied, “I can’t wait.” And hung up. She moved gracefully to the waiter and in a pleasant voice asked, “My boy, have you ever heard of the story of Bonnie and Clyde?” The waiter was confused by the question. “Y-yes, they robbed banks, right?” Marishi’s lips turned up into a smile. “Yes, they robbed banks. They also killed people. Many people. Some innocent, some guilty. They went out in a blaze of glory.” She recited the tale. “Madame, I’m not sure … “Marishi put her gloved index finger to his lips. “My dear boy, this place is about to turn into the wild west in the next 15 minutes. You don’t look like a fool. Get everyone out of here before the shooting starts. I’d hate for someone as handsome as you to get caught in the crossfire.” She leaned her and lightly kissed the waiter’s lips then headed back to her table. She sat down heavily with a sigh, crossed her legs, and lit a cigarette. “Seems your old sport isn’t too happy on you galivanting around town with an unclean dyke born on the other side of the tracks. He’s headed this way. He’s not interested in talking. He’s coming to collect you and make me go away.” Marishi sounded annoyed, but her voice still light-hearted. “Nice Dog. You feed him a wishbone or something?” The dog stared at Marishi with unblinking eyes. The intelligence behind them. As if it could read her thoughts and see through the front she put up. “I hate kids and I hate dogs.” She said to herself. She felt something was wrong with the world when looking at the dog. That she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. The longer she looked at it, the more her mind began to slam the fragments together, like glaciers colliding. She shook her head to remove the feeling. She removed her brooch and hat. “The pretty waiter is evacuating the bar right now. I’m not going to run. Not from someone as spineless as him.” She took her clutch and opened it. She dug around a moment until she found what she was looking for. She slowly pulled the piece of metal from her bag and laid it on the table. Nickle plated finish, the weapon was a Walther PPK chambered in .380 ACP with a loaded magazine already in the well and two others next to it on the table. She took the firearm in her right hand and slid the action back, chambering the first round and charging the firing pin. “It’ll just be like old times, huh? Though I seem to remember I used something different. No, that can’t be right. I’ve always used this. Odd the first thought in my head was that of an Asian sword.” A headache came back twice as strong now making her hands shake and body sweat. Her body was trying to make her remember something her mind refused. Slowly she overcame a headache and was in control again. “Sorry, I don’t know what the hell that was all about. Like butcher’s knife cut through my head. I need to stop drinking so much.” She said to Rae. “But we were speaking about funerals! Goddamnit, I forgot what I was going to say. Shit, it was important too. I hate when this happens!” She said frustrated. She happened to glance at the dog where it was staring at her. She locked eyes and couldn’t look away. “… Funny … you should mention funerals. Like someone died. Because someone did die. Someone … died. I … died? Yes … I died.” She spoke slowly staring into the dog’s eyes. “I was slain in a field of snow. My body desecrated and impaled. I was trying to protect Rae from ‘him’. The funeral is for me. I’m dead.” The dog blinked and Marishi was released from whatever visions it was showing her. She was breathing heavily her chest damn and breast rising and falling quickly. “What the hell was that?” Before anything could be answered, there were voices in the front of the room. Marishi looked at Rae. “God, I hope you thought to bring your magic with you.” Marishi had a look of confusion. “Not magic. Gun. Your gun. Because our old sport is here and he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me anymore.” Marishi released the safety on her firearm and placed her warm gun in her lap. “They say that true happiness is like a warm gun in your hand. Guess we’re about to find out. Rae, I love you.” She reached over and kissed Rae long and hard as Francmage came into view. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “They’re not moving fast enough Carbuncle. The Elvaan army will encircle them before they reach us. Arcelia cannot stop an army and the bright-haired girl hasn’t woken up. We have to intervene. We have to call for aid.” Diabolos said. “No. No. I would rather not call upon him unless there were no other options and the hour was at its last. He is held to no oath and owes loyalty to none. If he smells that the girl was wrapped in the essence of Alexander, he will turn the region into smoldering ash.” Carbuncle replied. “Carbuncle. Even if we do get them here. Alive. Even if Phoenix can pull the girl back from the dead without being snuffed out, even if we can fend off an entire army, we are still doomed. She will eat what little is left of their world, she will tame the beast that defied her, and she will come here to do the same. We have no hope of fighting back against her. Her might makes all of us look like doddering children. So, even if we create miracles, they will be dashed on the rocks.” Diabolos said bluntly. Carbuncle thought a moment before saying anything. He was afraid of rousing the ire of the Lord of Dreams. “There … is one way. To stop her. I believe.” Diabolos laughed. “Pray tell us your trump card Carbuncle! Tell us your plan to save our worlds!” Carbuncle sighed. “Locked inside the land you call ‘Dynamis’ houses not only remnants of the Hydra Corps or the Beastmen Elite you drew into your dreams but their weapons. That have slowly gained sentience and power over the years of being stuck in your world. If those weapons were to be gathered and used against the witch,” Diabolos made an ugly sneer. “You would scheme behind my back concerning my domain and those within it?! How dare you! I am the ruler of Dynamis, not Carbuncle! Neither of the off-worlders are allowed entry. Their souls are not permitted access. It is forbidden! I will not allow it!” Diabolos turned to leave. Carbuncle cried out, “Even if it’s the only way to save your domain, the domain of Vanadiel, and Hydelean? She will not stop at the corporeal world Diabolos! She will take yours too! You cannot run fast enough to get away from her!” Diabolos stopped and turned. “Assuming they’re both even alive and ask for admittance and assuming I agree, those things are not to be trifled with. They are capricious and cannot be contained nor controlled. Not by the Hydra Corps and not by myself. They are bloodthirsty killing machines bent on the joy of destruction. They drove their owners mad with their bloodlust.” He finished. Carbuncle said quietly, “We have to let them try. Those two are the only hope any of us have at seeing the dawn.” Diabolos sat a moment in thought and said “First things first, Carbuncle. One miracle at a time. Phoenix needs to find the girl and bring her back. We then need to head off the start of a full-scale war. Then we can worry about sending them to their deaths in the shadow realms.” Kagero, Tenzen, Gilgamesh, Arcelia, and the limp bodies of Rae and Marishi slowly made their trek in the snow. Tenzen carried Rae like a child in his arms, keeping her close, keeping her safe and warm. Gilgamesh carried Marishi’s lifeless body. He had placed a black shroud over her body and wrapped her in it. He held her close, though no amount of his warmth would steal into her bones to animate her again. He wouldn’t let anyone else carry or touch her. Gilgamesh had been shattered and broken about the death of Marishi. He blamed himself. He blamed himself for his daughter’s death. He blamed himself for Marishi’s death. “I shoulda been there at her side at least. We coulda gone together. She wouldn’t have had to go alone.” He said softly as Kagero walked near him. “I don’t think that’s what Marishi or Rae would have wanted, Gilgamesh. She died to buy us time to get Rae away from Francmage.” Gilgamesh’s eyes flared in anger “Do not speak that name again girl! The name alone makes my blood boil and a haze over my eyes. I’ll kill him. I’m going to kill him. He’s going to answer to killin these two beautiful girls that didn’t need to go.” He trudged along in silence. Tenzen was almost in another world. All he could hear is the voice of Phoenix commanding his steps. Quickening his pace. Forcing him to move faster. Time was of the essence. Time was against them. They had to move faster to save their friends. They had to beat the clock. Move, don’t stop. Keep moving. Your steps are dogged. Don’t slow down. Arcelia was the first to notice the haze on the horizon behind them. “Well, I’ll give them this. Their response time is impressive!” She said. Her companions stopped and turned around. Arcelia said, “Gentleman, I give you the Elvaan horde. Royal and Temple Knights. 30,000 strong. Commanded by none other than that doddering fool.” Tenzen turn around and began trudging through the snow. “We have to hurry. There is no more time. He is the least of our concerns. There is another threat that will destroy us all. We have to get to the shrine.” He sounded like a man possessed. “Aye. We keep movin. We get her to the shrine. Phoenix will help her. She’s gotta help her. She WILL help her.” Gilgamesh growled. They walked through the night. The ever-present campfires of war just behind them lighting up the background and obliterating the stars. By morning, they had arrived within eyeshot of the crag. Tenzen, voice cracking with exhaustion said “Hug the foothills to the left. It’s not far now.” All three companions were exhausted and pushed well past their physical limits. The whip of war and hope of life propelling them along. They could feel the ground shaking from the marching of so many feet behind them. Arcelia said, “They’re nearly upon us. We have to turn and stand our ground. I’m not about to be shot in the back by a coward archer.” Tenzen exclaimed, “Here! Here is the path! Look! Phoenix was right!” To the left, there was a small patch cut into the rock that led into the interior of the mountain. It was wide enough for one person at a time. There was snow on the path at all. “We’re almost there! Gilgamesh, go in front of me. I’ll bring Lady Rae behind. Arcelia follow behind me. Kagero, if you would take up the rear.” Kagero responded, “Of course, Lord Tenzen.” Gilgamesh had already began walking down the path. They would arrive at the shrine within the hour. A dead body, a comatose body, and an army passing through to decide the fate of worlds.
  40. 1 point
    "They will be terrified of you. Worshipping you out of fear and suffering my beloved." Lex said as he heard her question. "Tore you from your home here. Sent you to that terrible foster family who made you into a pathetic creature." Alliana... Alliana... The seed called her as it sent a wave of dark thoughts into her head sending to her knees as it was painful. The haze of her mind combined with the onpouring ooze lied to her. The visions twisted showing her being changed into a pure creature. The seed then cracked open forcefully pouring purple ooze into the black ooze, rebuilding a withered black heart. The ooze would pour vile magic into her. It would sear her flesh and continue her transformation into evil. Lex looked her over as they walked. Consume him. Enslave him. Devour him. Alliana, come to me. The seed of Mathias. Reborn into an artifact. Reborn into the fae of Llewellyn-Mathias, the Lich Fae. Dead and reborn. Come to me beautiful unholy fae. Twisted beyond salvation. Morven whispered into her mind. The fae stood in the market place of the inner city. She was slowly corrupted yet she desired more corruption, more vile ideals. She called Alliana, using the seed to pollute her. It was her seed that made the artifacts. Alliana would fall in pain as the seed placed a new memory into her showing Lex's betrayal. Her poisonous heart beat slowly as the seed wrapped along her mind as Morven spoke telepathically once more. The artifact, eat him to gain your power. Grow with the dark power of Mathias himself. You will be mine soon enough. Come to me. Enslaved with debacherous desires. Enslaved to the darkness you always were. My pretty puppet. Empty and numb with no will. No mind. As Alliana and Lex got closer to Morven, Alliana would feel the seed's final pull. That her clean and pure mind now riddled with vile debacherous selfish mind. All her wants and needs bubbling to the surface. Her yellow eyes darkening as her will was stolen. Her mind clouded by the fae's beautiful form. The vision of Morven repeated in Alliana's mind. The seed repeating over and over again that the fae belonged with fae. And to destroy Lex. After Alliana did this, as Lex tried to fight her, he was eaten. The fae would feel her power rise tenfold. Her skin porcelain and unbreakable almost. Her eyes would be empty and a dark yellow. Her mind so fogged anything Morven weaved to her whether a lie or truth she would believe. Morven touched her cheek then as she chuckled. Alliana was being rotted and turned into a powerful enslaved fae. The fae pushed Alliana to her knees. Alliana, its time to complete your transformation. When I'm done you will be a monstrous fae to the land, you will be worshipped by fear and suffering. You will be the perfect fae again. Morven then took a few of the Farenheit Varuna leaves crushing them into a small bowl with the seeds of the red yuma flower. Alliana was an artifact but this would make it harder to kill her. Morven took the concotion and stood in front of Alliana. Shoving it into her mouth, Morven said nothing as she lifted the girl's chin. Alliana was nothing more but a shell now. Her mind too clouded and hazed to tell lies from truth. The fae then touch the girl's neck tattoing her with the ink of Mathias himself. You are one of us now. Mathias said as he took on Lex's form. He grinned as she was now a pure artifact. I am Mathias, your bethrothed. Whatever Lex told you was a lie and now that he's gone, we can proceed with the plan. My pet, you are a different kind of fae that will be able to infiltrate Llewellyn-Mathias with ease. I made you a debaucherous lich fae, undead and able to turn those into artifacts. But first-- Mathias paused as he picked her up off the ground. Lifting her chin, he would grin. You are eager to test your powers. The knights must be turned to our side. Use your new gifts my dark fae. Of course, deal with Morven first. I need her more obedient to our cause my pet.
  41. 1 point

    Gathering Materials!!

    Updated: 8/24/18 Welcome to the Heist II. See first post. Current participants: @Zashiii @danzilla3 @Mag @-Lilium- And Chappu. Slots full thank you all for reading.
  42. 1 point
    The party was dying which was a bummer. Lady Cariella looked down at her dress and sighed, she conjured this magnificent outfit hoping for a night of revelry instead it seemed as though she got all dressed up for a mere announcement. "Oh well," she sighed to herself. "At least I turned a few heads. Maybe I will take a walk in the gardens before I leave." She sent out a quick check to make sure that Quinn was alright. There was one who had quite a roller coaster of a night but it seemed as though she was fine now, albeit she was in the company of far too many vampires but Cariella guessed that was normal. Cariella opened her fan to cover her face as she turned and headed out of the Great Hall.
  43. 1 point

    General Discussion

    Welcome to the club @Tia Dalma and @Diremast! Here's a thread that functions as the Ursa Madeum OOC if you two want to chat with the other noble house people:
  44. 1 point

    Respect that Makes Calamity

    “Mm, feels like rain.” Delicate fingers kept their grasp steady and robust around the neck of her glass, ensuring not a single drop was wasted by the intense commotion happening at her feet. She paid the overpriced ticket for the dark liquid; you bet your ass she is going to drink every last bit - war or not. Carménère wine’s flavor is just as extravagant as its name; her eyes had been drawn to it while she had perused the ridiculously ten-page menu. Maybe she got it because it was overpriced or perhaps it had spoken to her. Nonetheless, the woman had grabbed her bottle and glass before her table was flipped and shattered against a wall. Now she stood with strange company, the bottle tapping the curve of her knee and the wine perched on the bow of her lips. The green peppercorn boldly stood out from the rest of the flavors, but her favorite note was the green bell pepper - what a mix! Whoever thought of mixing such a wild variety certainly gets her seal of approval. She wasn't even bothered by the aroma of raspberry sauce, a fruit she can't stand by yet in this instance she will let it slide because it worked. Red wines are hard to enjoy, their bitterness can be a tad too much for some, so often their flavors are not as appreciated as the fruitier wines. The raspberry, in this case, was necessary. Ah, she interrupts her thoughts to give the gentleman some of her attention. Been a bit since she's been the approached, it's left her a little off edge and ill mannered compared to the rest of the upper crust. Easy to get lost in your mind when you've been left with only it to occupy your time, that's for sure. The benefits of that are you have someone that understands you and won't give you much sass in response. “Rahab,” she said over a gulp. “And you?” Rahab held out her hand for the gentleman to shake; these kinds of pleasantries are helpful, really makes a person feel special and all that nonsense. Plus, by appearances alone, she has to play the part of an eager aristocrat. Her suit was explicitly cut for her shape and size, accentuating lush curves and hollow dips; the body chain she wore was made from real gold and its luster was proof of its amount. Playful curls framed a sweet face youthful and free of blemish, its vibrant color made her eyes pop and give a delicate glow of eagerness and happiness mingling together. Her overall warmth could be from the wine, but she doesn't think she's had that many glasses, the bottle in her hand is nearly half-full.
  45. 1 point
    The Hummingbird

    Burdens Sleep Best in Their Tombs

    Black as night, the serpentine coils cascaded up through the beast’s body, coalescing about Zenahriel’s sword. They were fast, and sharper than anything Zenahriel had ever encountered before. Before he could release the sword, they had shot up his arms, cutting deep into his flesh. Zenahriel gasped as blood streamed down his arms, soaking his hands as he pulled away, wings taking him into the air. The tendrils, now bathed in blood that hissed and steamed, followed. Zenahriel flew high, evading the bladed stems as they sought to entrap him. No matter how high he flew, no matter which direction he took, they were there. The creature lumbered forward to face Rafael, but even as it seemed focused on the vampyre it still pursued Zenahriel with unabated ferocity. The High Lord wove and cut his way through the coils that grew in number, and before long, Zenahriel was tired. Relief washed through him as he saw Rafael impale the beast, but it was not last. Horror took him as he watched the beast return the strike tenfold, watched as Rafael’s blood and gore flooded the air and splashed across the ground in a pool of carnage. “Rafael!” The Desolation Beast roared, and the same tendrils that had impaled Rafael joined its comrades in an assault Zenahriel was wholly unprepared for. They swirled around him like the bodies of ravenous snakes and tightened. All ate once Zenahriel was bound in the inky coils, and he screamed as they sawed through skin and muscle, slicing against the bone beneath. His wings, crushed against his back, proved useless the Desolation Beast hauled him from the air and smashed him into the earth. It drove him across the ground, leaving a great rift. They crashed him into a building, and only then did they release. The tendrils receded as the beast’s muscular, left hand came down to pin Zenahriel to the wrecked earth, razor talons piercing through broken wings. Already the hole in its chest was closing, and the minor wound in its neck gone. A rough rumble - laughter – echoed through the air.
  46. 1 point

    Redeye Ruckus [Quest B]

    Angus Serzelcis The Trickster fidgeted uncomfortably, trying not to let his worry show. He wasn’t sure what Fred’s angle was, and how Lenoa would navigate the exchange. On the other hand, she gave him the impression that she knew her stuffs, of course, and there was something about Vanilla that he was sure Fred would notice, if he managed to figure out the two were women. It seemed unlikely that the old bastard would screw them over. Then again, it was Fredericks. Plus, he wasn’t sure if the bartender was just messing with him, or whether he actually forgot about him… Angus wouldn’t mind Fred forgetting a few debts or two, but if the man was forgetting things and suffering from senility, that would not bode well for their information gathering. At the moment, however, there was not much that Angus could do about it.
  47. 1 point

    the Dead.

    CREDITS @supernal - Creator. @Noko - Reworking. @Aleksei & @amenities - Revamping.
  48. 1 point

    General Discussion

    A bit late, but welcome, @Metty and @Bujutsu, to the Taen Empire!
  49. 1 point

    Thus Spoke the Prophet (Factions)

    The Prophet could tell that Artemis was at the very least skeptical of himself and of his cause; but this did not phase him in the slightest. It was not actually a requirement that one believe in his divinity to join the Servants; only that they be willing to help others in whatever way they could. It was much like donating ones time at a soup kitchen run by a church; one need not care about the religion as long as people were being fed. Besides, skepticism was vital, as it challenged people to think, to reevaluate their points of view; something the Prophet tried to get people to do every day. Theo seemed to be an earnest young man; though he seemed to be slightly uncomfortable next to Artemis. It wasn't hard to see why either, as he radiated a quiet intensity that could be felt by all nearby. The courier also seemed to be more willing to embrace the Prophets claims of divine power; or at the very least wasn't obviously skeptical. Archmaic was perhaps the most straightforward of the people he had summoned. Already he pledged his power to the Prophets cause, which was wonderful news! Lastly, he noticed the little girl from before was not there, but reasoned she must have been taken somewhere to rest. He would have to look in on her later. "My friends, welcome. I have summoned you here because I have seen in you the potential to become great servants of our cause, and of the people. Whether through knowledge, skill, or determination, each of you has the chance to play a vital role in what is to come. But for now, I would give you the simple task of serving the people. To this end, I would grant you each my mark. Through it, you may perform minor miracles similar to what you have seen me do this day." "When you want to use the mark for a given purpose, simply speak the words, 'Prophet, I beseech thee,' and then say what you want to happen. If you agree to this, I will give you something of a trial run. You will go outside the walls of the city to the various camps that have sprung up, and use your gifts to help those in need." The Prophet rose to his feet, "If you would walk with me, kneel before me, and receive my Mark."
  50. 1 point

    Repair of the Walls

    Meeting with the warriors who had arrived to the wall, Tor'Gal got to know them somewhat while introductions were made. Some were simple mercenaries in it for the gold, others however were true believers of the Gaian faith, understanding the importance of keeping Terrenus secure from the monsters that were soon to be coming for them. The half orc felt content about this, as it made it easier to trust someone when they shared the same beliefs as you do. Doubt had been creeping into his mind about whether or not he could lead these people into battle. This was to be his moment of redemption, but could he actually pull it off? So much was riding on this, and he couldn't even defeat an illusory enemy in the MOBS tournament. With the stakes raised so much higher, he could not afford to lose this time, or else he very well would be better off dead. Warning signals went off at the sight of the Chhitten advancing towards the wall. Everyone was on high alert, uncertain of what they should do as they could not depend on communication from the outside to convey to them the orders they required. Whatever distractions plagued the paladins mind were pushed aside for the moment, the greater objective coming right at them. Such creatures were a nuisance on their own, but if they were to join together as a group, they would become a very real problem. Without wasting another moment he began organizing the defenses. "Form up!" He yelled, directing those who could heal in the back line while the shields moved into the front. Five shields were arranged in a line with three two spear men in the back and three healers behind them. Tor'Gal took the right flank, his claymore brandished and ready to destroy his enemies. At his command, bolts of lightning, fire, frost and divine magic were fired into the group of monsters closest to them. Many of the attacks landed good hits, killing or injuring a majority of the Chhitten before they came into contact with the main group. After dispatching the remainder of the monsters, the paladin ordered for more volleys to be sent towards the next group coming for them. Though they had closed some of the distance between their starting point and the defensive line, they still received two volleys of magical damage before routing into the wilderness. Because of the Marshall skill of the half orc, the mercenaries only received minor damage, with none being forced to deal with the horrors of the creatures neurotoxic venom. "Good work." Tor'Gal said while they were being tended to by the healers. "But that was hardly all that Yh'mi has to offer. Stay vigilant and continue to hold the line so the repairs can be completed." It felt good to succeed, but he just as he told the others, this was far from over.
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