Jump to content


Popular Content

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

  1. 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."
  2. 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
  3. 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.
  4. 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.
  5. 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.
  6. 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.
  7. 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.
  8. 2 points
    The most adorable semialcrum ❤
  9. 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:
  10. 1 point
    Devour... Enslave... Make them your pawns, your servants. Twist their forms and make them desire you, worship you. Gluttonous fae. Glutton... You want the fae, make her your beloved, your slave. Twist her heart into nothing and show them your power. Devour them. You must obey. You belong to me now, the seed of vile debacherous lich. Make them yours, defile them. The seed whispered, pumping more ooze into her mind, chaining her heart even more. It found she desired power, wanting to be desired. That she wanted to be queen of the fae, she wanted servants, to enslave her own kind. The seed was whittling down her will. Here in Llewellyn-Mathias, were fae folk were plentiful she would have all her desires fullfilled. You... I see it now. You don't want to be weak. You want it all. Eat them all until all bow at your feet. The city, full of prey. Release yourself to me and all will be yours. Stay here and consume them all. Mine... The seed then pumped one final push of darkness into her. It's ooze contaminant her mind as she would fall. Lex said nothing as he looked at her. Morven stood there as she chuckled. "I go where I please." Morven replied. "Besides, you can't even take ahold of what you want or desire. You're afraid." Lex shook his head. What would happen next? He approached Alliana but stopped a foot away eyeing her skin. It was even more alluring. He shook his head. No, he couldn't think that way. He couldn't help it though, he wanted to touch it, taste it. What was happening to him? "You should go home Alliana. As a hand of the divine, I can get you a ship. Get you home. This is not a place to play, the island plays for keeps. If you get corrupted, you become something monstrous." Morven replied.
  11. 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.
  12. 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.
  13. 1 point
    The Hummingbird

    Buried 'Neath The Ashes

    No stranger to fine dinners, Zenahriel nevertheless admired the exquisite display of the dining room. Eager to please, the servants and staff had wiped nearly everything free of dust, scouring the table and floors until they shone as if new. The paintings of somber acrylic and rich oils exhibiting ancient wars and moments of heroism had been straightened and rearranged, and fresh drapes, matching the vigorously scrubbed runners on the floor, had been hung with care. With all the anxious attention given, it was unfortunate the chamber had been used so infrequently. Due to his frequent traveling in the past, Zenahriel had little occasion to use the dining room himself, and with no company, even less of a reason. In Umbra, he often ate alone in his room – in Orisia, the same, enjoying his meals in privacy if with a tinge of loneliness. Yet despite this practiced solitude, his manners in public were impeccable. There were forks and spoons of various sizes and uses, different plates and glasses use for different drinks and dishes – the customs and proper etiquette would have been quite distressing for the common man. For Zenahriel, it was nothing. He picked the proper fork to eat with, the proper glass to present to the servants for fresh wine or water, and ate neatly with modest bites. At this feast, prepared as if for an entourage of kings, Zenahriel ate with flawless conduct appropriate for his high station. His only slight was the way he looked back at Rou with intense eyes, his gaze never faltering or wavering… and it wasn’t in criticism of her own dining etiquette. He cut into the steak delicately, the meat tender and medium-rare, as he liked it, bit and chewed thoughtfully as Rou made light comments of the wine and gossiped about the curious choices of their King. He grinned at her last comment – indeed, vampires fermenting wine. “Hmm. The King making… bloodwyne, perhaps?” Zenahriel grinned as he swallowed. “Hmph. Like something out of a fairy tale, if you ask me.” He reached to take hold of the wine bottle sitting near to them – also an imported Muhirian wine, aged to rumored perfection. He turned it by its neck, examining the flowery descriptions on the bottle and the long-forgotten date emblazoned on the stained glass. It boasted of the rich, complex flavors of dark oak and ripe plums, with a slight citrus bite and a lingering sweet aftertaste. “It is good,” he admitted. “If nothing else, Muhir does produce fine drinks.” He poured himself a fresh glass and refilled Rou’s before sampling the scallops, still warm and juicy. “Mm. Well, I have to compliment the chef. I think even his flax seed must taste good,” he mused with a smile. He cocked his head one way, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “My satisfaction, my Lady? Isn’t it the Empress who must be satisfied, and not anyone else? In any case,” he added, “I wouldn’t worry about me… I’ve had occasion to eat ration bars and this is far better.” Tucking back a strand of inky hair, he considered for a moment before answering. “Much as I wish it wasn’t so, there is little more I can do beyond Umbra this time. Whispernight must subside, or continue, on its own without interference from the High Lords. Orisia has a queen again, and the war with Terrenus is over, at least for now, not that such a petty dispute between nations was my business anyway. No, Umbra was my rightful place from the very beginning; I think I am here for a very long stint indeed, Rou,” he smiled again. “And if I must serve such a lovely Empress, I think I will be sufficiently happy.” With a few more bites, Zenahriel finished the steak and surveyed the rest of the meal, stacked high on porcelain dishes in seemingly endless amounts. With dessert yet to come. He intended to do his best, but there was going to be quite a bit of leftovers. “Enough about me, though. Excuse my intrusion, but is this marriage between you and my King out of love or is it more political? Because…” Against all propriety he reached over and brushed the bruise across Rou’s cheek. “… this tells me something very alarming, my dear.” Will you be any happier than Gabriela, I wonder?
  14. 1 point
    The man looked down at the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around his leg. He cautiously pulled back the wrappings and sighed in relief as it seemed the bleeding had ceased. Even though he would hate to verbally admit it, it wouldn't be a stupid idea to have Aralisi check his wound at the next chance they got to rest. While the bleeding had stopped, that doesn't mean there isn't a chance of infection setting in. Losing a leg would be the last thing the adventure would want. He gave a quick nod to his associate. Xahlafael searched his fallen opponent as Aralisi searched hers. The findings were scarce; nothing outside of ordinary personal belongings. There wasn't even anything that could be used to identify who they might be or why they attacked. His eye settled on the body for a moment. Nothing about them seemed familiar or even "special" to him. They looked like just ordinary people. Whether or not that was true may be a different story. He wondered if Ben had any clue to who they were. A groan left the man's throat as he stood up from his crouched position near the body. He used the front of the dead man's shirt to clean the blood from his blade. The gesture was less respectable than the feline's, but it worked just as good. He looked to the leader of the group and called to him. "Nothing on this one, Ben. Do you know who they are or why they may have ambushed us?" He called to Ben, gritting his teeth through the stinging pain in his thigh.
  15. 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.
  16. 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.
  17. 1 point
    To any normal-sized person, pieces of airship falling from the sky would have been pretty scary but for the halfling, it was down right terrifying. The young dragonling had been stitched up and fixed but it still looked anxious, Wisp thought it was probably just worried about its master. She looked around and saw that some of the larger pieces had already hit the ground along with some members of the crew. "You can't fly but maybe you can help me rescue some folks," Wisp said looking at the dragonling. She motioned with her hands in a follow me gesture and while keeping an eye on the sky, carefully made her way to some of the ship pieces. One of the sections of cabins had just landed. Wisp carefully picked her way through the wreckage and felt a surge of hope as she recognized where she had been sleeping. Quickly she moved around some broken bits of furniture and let out a grateful sigh when she found her beat-up knapsack. It looked a little worse-for-wear and there were a few leaves that had managed to fly out of the pack. Wisp opened the pack and saw that one of her bottles managed to come loose from its packing and spill, she checked the label. "Crap," she said. "This is going to be a pain to get out." What had spilled was a bottle of swamp toad slime that she collected on one of her trips to study. This particular specimen had extremely sticky properties and Wisp was thinking of using it as a climbing aide. But now it covered a good portion of her pack and its contents. No time to worry about that, she had to help who she could. "Anyone out there in need of assistance?" She yelled out to the forest.
  18. 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.
  19. 1 point
    Zenith returned and knocked Glee on his head. She was a tough old bird who didn't take anything from anyone. She then shoved Fahrenheit Varuna leaves in his mouth. Making him chew fhe leaves as they wpuld drain out any corruption. "Snap out of it you idiot." Cried Zenith. "No one's here to fight you. Come to your senses already." Ferghas watched hoping it would do some good. Hoping he would return to normal. Zenuth said nothing more as she made him eat more of the leaves. It would calm the nan down. "And this will help?" Ferghas asked. "Indeed until he gets cursed again."
  20. 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:
  21. 1 point
    Following behind Ben as he made short work of the foes with his axe, Aralisi indeed fell back behind Xahlafael, peering to make sure the downed enemies didn't get back up. Once she had ensured they wouldn't attempt to pursue the two as they reconvened with their employer, the lion-warrior withdrew a crimson-smeared cloth from a pouch at her side, removing her felled adversary's blood from the blade and projections of the partisan-like weapon. Blood caused rusting on steel easier than water could, after all. "Hmph", she grunted, finally sopping up enough of the enemy's gore to where she was satisfied with herself. "Seems my assertions were correct about these bandits. But it strikes me as odd that they'd have scouts in hiding this far from the mines..." It wasn't as if Aralisi hadn't been hired for malign reasons before, much to her chagrin, but she felt she could trust Ben due to making his intentions and personal prize known early on. Lowering her spear to the ground, she chuffed to Xahlafael, finally sizing up his injury from the attack. "Well, let's get back over there", she replied, "But mind your march. If you'd prefer, I can take a closer look at that. I didn't get far without having to learn some medical skills..." Either way, she'd trot back to the recently-deceased lingering behind them, giving a quick search of the goods on their person. Her search carefully flipped the corpse onto his back, trying to keep intestines from spilling out of the wounds she'd inflicted upon him. The initial search, however, came up short. "Not a lot on this thug", she called back, "Just some measly coin, a jack knife, his main weapon and the clothes on his back". Giving a sigh, the lioness gently closed the deceased's eyelids with her fingertips, pulling the coins from his pockets and placing them over his eyes. Mumbling something, she waved a hand over his chest before observing the others' progress in looting and clue-gathering.
  22. 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.
  23. 1 point

    the Dead.

    CREDITS @supernal - Creator. @Noko - Reworking. @Aleksei & @amenities - Revamping.
  24. 1 point
    An excellent idea! I also really want him to assist in helping fix the rail and put some charity work in with his tech. He's gonna be a hub for engineers and scientists, aiding in his research and patents. Big plans for my boy Before solely because last chance began with it being constructed. He wouldn't of had time for his locusts otherwise!
  25. 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.