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Showing content with the highest reputation on 12/10/2018 in all areas

  1. 4 points

    Destruction des morts

    Making it back onto the streets began quite easily, but soon after there is an eruption of chaos she hasn’t witnessed in such a long time. And the Apprentice enjoys it immensely. That is until a cart rolls screeching to a turned halt before her just as she is about to alight from the curb. Despite the mask vehemence, her unappreciation can be rendered physically with the unfurling and ripple of the shadow beneath her heels. “Come with us,” Cain said, embarking the carriage as its undead horses took off for the Watch Fort. “I’m going to jump off at the Watch Fort, but I leave it to you two to take down Black Tower,” he said, unshouldering his backpack and putting it down between them. Inside were antidotes to Maleficence, several Maleficence grenades, and another bomb like the one they had planted in the shafts. “Do what you have to blow that tower with this charge and take out every noble in sight. You’re going to see someone when you get in there who looks like… well, he looks just like me. Nica. Evacuate him if you can and if you can’t, well tell him I said hi.” It is with sight and sound that recognition is immediately paid to Cain. The other on the carriage, still an unknown to her. Without hesitation she does as always, giving her superior and abrupt nod of understanding as she takes hold of and shoulders the pack evenly across her back. Accepting of the abstract order without questioning the authority behind it. Where some might raise a brow and ask further questions regarding the object of his desire on the secondary set of requests regarding Nica. Ina does nothing. It is not unusual for a creature of her nature to have more than one identical face to be viewed. Even while hers remains ultimately hidden beyond the hook of a boney mask and Dead technology to further obscure her identity. And with that, she is jumping swiftly onto the carriage beside Schrei. Without so much as a look back or goodbye to her original team, as is their custom. Keeping moving, keep disrupting. The Skeleton’s maneuverability with the carriage is swift and calculated. Disallowing obstacles to slow them too much on their route. Save for the oddly screaming and running person unfortunate enough to become a victim of its speed. Initially, it begins with a stop at the Watch Fort to drop Cain off in order for him to care for his duties. Then, after much silence outside of the brief exchange of internal schematics and information, they arrive at the quite Black Tower. It is with a wave of the hand that the Apprentice ushers forth Schrei. Having felt the darkness in the girl’s aura as well as hints of rage upon her arrival as a partner. Rather than get in the girl’s way, the Apprentice would prefer to allow her the courtesy of fulfilling her personal desires while taking to the shadows to engage as back up when necessary and eventually connect with the twin in need of evacuation-Nica. @bfc @amenities
  2. 3 points
    Dolor Aeternum

    Destruction des morts

    As Xavier listened to the Nanny, a growing hatred for the woman bubbled within him, festering until its putrid stench caused his nose to scrunch up a bit after she responded with haughty words and pompous drivel. The condescending tone triggered Xavier to a level that was so volatile that Obtenebra began to jut out sporadically from his arms and legs from the intensity of the emotion. He had witnessed in Terrenus how most of his kind while attempting to make a decent living out of the civilized pockets within could rarely find anything more substantial than physical labor. Not once had he seen an orc rise to become a prominent figure within Terran society, either hindered by their own ideas of self-worth or by the worth they allowed others to press upon them. Even he had allowed himself to become limited in the employ of that drow Nines until he was liberated by Blob Boss. Staring at Belladonna, he wondered if she too felt trapped or if she truly enjoyed what she was currently doing like he was. “….Please don’t lower me to your level…” Xavier’s rage was palpable as the undulating Obtenebra created several spikes along his body, retracted, then forced them to appear several times as it tried to make sense of its host’s raw emotion. The fact that the nanny continued on, providing Belladonna with a cheap cigar on top of requesting to see her boss after what he considered a major character attack made the orc snap as a thunderous baritone erupted from his throat. “Speak to her that way again and I will gut you…puny woman…” Xavier stepped forward to confront Belladonna’s other companion, using his massive height and bulk in an attempt to become more imposing but what they would not know was his realization that it would likely matter little to the unwanted woman he now confronted. As swiftly as he approached, he pivoted to look at Belladonna as the red haired beauty decided to execute a calm response and then pose a question to them. “No I haven’t heard of either place.” Giving the Nanny some serious side eye now, he addressed his current desire. “You can stay here while I accompany Isabel to handle this ‘lower level’ work…” He fully intended to bait the woman into another display of arrogance that he was ready to react to though he simply wished the nanny would just leave them alone and move on to something else. Regardless of the response, he allowed himself to be led by Belladonna, fully invested in the prospect he saw in her words, sensing he could gather info on what an organization like the dead considered worth their time and what a beautiful woman such as this ‘Isabel’ considered worthy of hers. @vielle @Thotification
  3. 3 points
    Dolor Aeternum

    The Brittle King's Tragedy OOC

    Ilyana will narrowly avoid Celestine's blasts and look visibly annoyed. She will let everyone know rather tersely she only saw items that may have belonged to the archaeologists but she is not sure with as few words as possible while moving somewhat behind Celestine and extending her corrosive dagger with Obtenebra acting as an appendage to stab the Reaver's head making sure the dagger whooshed by the woman's side by a narrow margin. If it connects then the corrosive liquid will begin eating away at the reaver's head.
  4. 3 points

    The Brittle King's Tragedy OOC

    Vielle is faster to post than I am. I have been shamed. ? To make up for it, I'll go ahead and reiterate where everything is, and how things are moving along, so that @Garion has everything they need to post quickly and actively! So, a quick reminder to everyone now. These two critters are in melee range of all party members now. You all can take a shot at it, and if you do so your actions can be recorded by whoever is next to post. I am aware this sounds a little unfamiliar, but allow me to use CSL and Vielle as an example. Although Vielle posted as their own character after CSL did, CSL still wrote in Vielle's actions as a part of their own post, allowing multiple characters to act in the same space. You guys can do that too, with proper communication and cooperation. Also, @Alexei told me via Discord that they're being hit by a pretty gnarly snow storm, so they might not have internet by the time their post needs to go up. I will try to contact them when it happens, but if I can't get a reply, we'll be skipping them, this time.
  5. 3 points
    I think I am ok with moving along after another Pearl post if it wraps up or it can be wrapped up in transition to the next round. Since this is 'speed dating' it is assumed time will run out and we have to switch partners so leaving things unresolved may provoke further interactions later I would think.
  6. 3 points

    Claiming the Furthest Point

    "So, the ebon knight has healing powers too, that's a surprise," Aryssin thought to herself, notching an arrow into her bow. Sprinting towrads the caravans, the svelte lady jumped onto the wagon, providing herself some cover from the snapping fangs of the chhitten. The ebon knight had also made some cover for himself, so he was not much of a worry. However, there were others in the fight who were not as well protected as he was, and if left unchecked, the venom emitted by the chhitten would cause untold havoc on the defenders of the caravan. Focusing her lightning magic into one of her armguards and healing magic into another, Aryssin recited the verses, pouring as much magic she could into her enchanted items before aiming one at the handsome man and the other at herself. Immediately a bolt of lightning tore through the sky and hitting them both, casting a lightning bubble of light around the man. This bubble was a technique taught to her by her masters in Lefel, and even the biggest giants in the vicinity of her homeland were not able to break through the barrier. With that done, the magic in the gauntlets subsided, and the healer got her bow and arrows ready. Spotting a chhitten about to take a bite out of someone, Aryssin let an arrow fly, hitting the creature right in its gaping jaw. The creature was dead even before it hit the ground.
  7. 3 points
    It is almost second nature to her now: the way she moves, the way she and Anatase dance together in a flurry of knives and pale lights, the way her wardrum heart beats wild and restless against her sternum. The unease, the not-knowing, too, is second nature even after years in the profession. It is not easy to be rid of, and perhaps it will never really leave. Once it carves itself into the marrow, fear is deep-rooted, whether one likes it or not. Anatase’s lodepoints do their duty, disarming the Reaver of its weapon, and her exalta bolts drive it to fall over, unable to stand and fight. She takes a brief moment to mentally celebrate before the other two Reavers start making their way forward. “Uh oh, we angered them,” she deadpans, readying her gauntlets for another round when— "Found anything of note over there?" Her partner makes conversation with the woman his gaze had appreciated just moments before, in the first room, as if they were not currently in the midst of a battle with leaping, rabid mummies that can very well kill them if they aren’t careful. Which is—just fairly typical of him, really, why is she even surprised. Celestine rolls her eyes, leaves Anatase behind as she strides forward, makes herself the shield at the head of the group. She raises her gauntlets, fires energy bursts again aimed at the nearest Reaver vaulting its way towards them with incensed speed, hoping the blasts connect and somehow slow the monster down before it reaches her. Despite the adrenaline racing through her veins, Celestine experiences a brief flash of doubt, before her mind clears over until all that is left is single-minded focus. She is ready for this. She has trained for this. If it is a brawl they want, it is a brawl they will get.
  8. 2 points

    Mapping the Depths

    Victory comes at a fortuitous moment, the exhaustion radiating off of Selene and her comrades evident with the dwindling in their auras. Jinsoku’s completion of crushing Praetorian’s heart allows the knightess to take a truly deep breath. The recumbent vibrations of adrenaline do their duty by slowing sucking away at the little bit of energy she needs to stand. Somehow, someway, she walks over to her original pillar. Slowly and steadily. Finding comfort in the hard surface as she rests her back against it once more. By the time James makes it to her, she is already digging through her pack. “Just need some rest, and I’ll be alright.” As honest an answer as she can give to their group leader at the moment. The water bladder from when they first arrived coupled with a few pieces of cloth and she is cleaning the already drying blood on her torso, revealing to her to the amount of healing already having taken place outwardly. The remnants are a jagged puckering scar that over time will turn flat and silvery. But only with rest and a decent amount of self-efficacy on the matter would the inner portions properly heal. As for the tunic and the underlying tank top, torn and dyed by blood, they are in need of replacing. That will have to come later. For now, though, she merely endures a depth of sleep she could not upon their first arrival.
  9. 2 points

    The Brittle King's Tragedy OOC

    Just wanted to point out that Celestine is the one shooting with the exalta gauntlets. I'll probably post here Anatase's reaction after @vielle acts with Celestine, hopefully in the same "space" as Ilyana's stab?
  10. 2 points

    General chat thread

    GOD my job just let out for the winter holiday finally
  11. 2 points
    Dolor Aeternum

    MOBS lobby v3

    Rolled and used the same method you did for your previous fight. I chose odd numbers for my win and rolled a 6 so Akiris wins this one. ?
  12. 2 points
    Also given our tablets I would think that we could mark the people we were interested in for future purposes though Pearl likely got rid of hers lol
  13. 2 points
    Mr. Optional

    The Azatar Assembly

    Might I join? My character Nicky has been itching to come out
  14. 2 points

    Highway to Hell

    The scout looked up at Zack, "We found Salamander tracks a few miles out! Guvners taking the rest of the scouts to raid the nest, but he told us to come let everyone know back here. 'Scuse me, but I gotta go let Thurgood know." The tracks had led about five miles to the east, to the remains of one of the giant trees that made up the jungle. Upon closer inspection it was clear that the base of the trunk had been hollowed out, and now covered up the entrance to a tunnel. Bones and other detritus left over from an untold amount of animals that had been dragged back to the lair littered the entrance. More than one human skull was present among the piles of bones, most likely the remains of unfortunate travelers or explorers. This was the entire reason that they were building this road; to keep things like this from happening. Sebastian gestured for the scouts to hold and turned to address them, "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to go into the nest, kill as many as I can. I want all of you to stand ready out here, and kill any that manage to get past me. Understood?" Once the scouts nodded their affirmations, the Governor drew his sword and descended into the tunnel. The enclosed space was surprisingly dry, but broiling hot nonetheless, though the ground was soaked with some combination of blood and waste. When he had approached the tunnel, the smell had been almost overpowering, but now that he was in the nest, it was almost a physical presence. It was taking quite a bit of self-control to avoid throwing up, but such thoughts were put to the back of his mind when he heard rustling up ahead. He stood his ground for a few moments, listening for more movement when the first Salamander lunged at him. Steel flashed in the closed space, and the creatures head was struck from its shoulders; jaws still snapping as it hit the ground. Once the first one was down, a veritable wave descended upon him, a wall of flesh, claws, and teeth that threatened to consume him. Planting his feet, Sebastian's blade blurred as he whipped it through scything arcs faster than the eye could see. Any Salamander that got within striking distance was quickly sliced to pieces, and soon the horde moving seemed to be trying to move past him while the more feral ones continued their futile assault. The swordsman stood fast, having faith that the scouts behind him would be able to hold back the creatures that escaped him.
  15. 2 points

    Of Farewells and Dying Thots

    Patricia hadn't been happy when John decided to attend the Mistresses funeral, especially once he had let her in on the secret he had been keeping, but in the end she had relented. He'd had to assure her repeatedly that he and the supposedly deceased were nothing more than friends, and that their sexual relationship was long over. His lover had still seemed concerned, until he let her in on what he intended to do at the gathering. At that point, she had laughed harder then he had ever seen her laugh before, and gave her enthusiastic permission. Of course, the Mistress knew too, so he was clear on all fronts to have a little fun. When he came into view of the woman digging the hole for the coffin, or whatever would hold the remains to be lowered into, he grinned. He would wait for others to arrive before indulging in his little prank. Smiling, he hoped that the Mistress was watching from somewhere, because he was going to put on one hell of a show!
  16. 2 points

    What do you know? [closed]

    With great caution, the trio reach the door into the restricted lab. Teamwork! Alise mentally goes over the contents kept in her backpack and belt pouches - a potion of stoneskin, 2 potions of healing... weren't there more? This place has been a headache, both metaphorically and literally. She creeps up to the card reader, an eye on the odd figures behind the glass, and swips her own clearance card. As soon as the card reader beeps, Alise would quickly duck through the open door and hide from the walker. If the door doesn't open, she'll hide behind the cover she used to get to the door.
  17. 2 points

    What truth is gleaned in the mud?

    Iyalon had been more or less smiling, his face amiable and open since the start of the dinner, but then the rather ill-advised jest had sucked all the levity from the room in one blow. The tension settles over the table, and he can feel his shoulders tightening as Lord Uldwar looks on with a grave expression, spouts words in a tone that brooks no argument. "The world is a hostile place, sir knight, as you and I both know intimately. Weakness can mean death, and death is in many cases, a permanent condition." Despite the current atmosphere of discomfiture, Iyalon can only find himself agreeing. Only the ruthless are allowed to survive, and to be weak is to attract destruction and elimination. He can understand that, understand where those words are coming from, if nothing else: he thinks along the same lines every day. At the ring of the bell, Lord Uldwar excuses himself, leaves deafening silence in his wake. Iyalon keeps his gaze trained on his own plate, quietly scooping up spoonfuls of fish into his mouth as he waits for the others to speak. Not unsurprisingly, Lady Uldwar herself breaks the air, justifies her husband’s mood with the weight of the duties he bears. He is about to open his mouth to speak platitudes and acquiesce to her suggestion to end dinner early when a piercing cry rings through the room. "That's not fair! Why can't I have my dessert? I wasn't the one who insulted father. If anything I should have his dessert and he be sent to bed early." Guilt settles oddly in his gut, but Iyalon cannot help himself: it rather feels as if he’s intruded on something private, witnessing the subsequent dialogue between the matriarch of the house and the young Uldwar son. When Eric races out of the hall, bringing the Dogs of War with him, the Hildebrand knight carefully puts down his utensils and focuses his attention on the woman burying her face in her palms. "Why must these dinners always turn into disasters?" Compassion blooms unexpectedly in his chest at that. Despite the circumstances, Iyalon rather thinks Lady Uldwar bears as much burden of keeping their house in line as her husband does. It does not sit well with him to leave her thinking that they all feel ill will towards her. “If—if it is of any comfort, my Lady, I quite enjoyed myself,” he begins hesitantly, giving her a tiny smile. “Your hospitality has made me feel very welcome in your estate. It is not only in battle that the Uldwar house excels, but in cordiality as well.” It is really only due to the Lady and their knights’ efforts to extend courtesy, Iyalon muses, not without a sense of reluctance. He pauses for a moment, thinking deeply, before continuing. “I would offer my company to walk with the Lady Uldwar to wherever she needs to go before I retire. It is what I do often with my Lady Hildebrand in our own halls.” The thought of Varda places a soft grin on his face, and Iyalon bows deeply after he comes to stand to his feet. He is unsure of his own offer, unsure of her own acceptance, but the deed has been done. "If not with me, then perhaps going with another of your knights would comfort you, my Lady. It would be lonely to walk alone." If the Lady refuses his offer, then he will thank her once again before going to his chambers for the night.
  18. 2 points
    "FUCKTARDS RUNNING AWAY LIKE FUCKING BITCHES! COME BACK HERE YOU SISSIES! FUCKING COWARDS." Sera's blatant taunting of the retreating bandits made the Mistress frown. True, the her subordinate have been struggling against such trash mob everyday that they could deal with the lot of 'em even in their sleep. Simply wearing their coats in public would already make any cartel member a target. Especially with the bounties on their heads. Were they accomplished criminals? Perhaps. Their last big mission was with Last Chance and they haven't had any good run since then. There were hundreds of side jobs but most were just escort duty or fetch quests, missions that pale in comparison to their large battles of the past. The Mistress regarded her fellow allies. Cerik was advertising the bandit's equipment but the Mistress would not have any of that. She was after all a proud woman and looting a dead person's equipment which equals to spare change in trade was something she considered uncivilized. Not did she or her ladies ever needed armor. The less skin covered by their clothing, the stronger they becomes. Such a queer ability but one deserving the Mistress and her crew of queer ladies. Cerik stroking his horse made the Mistress pause. It seemed the man has an interest in stuff she would rather avoid discussing. While she wasn't that impressed with horses, she cannot blame the man for his....exquisite tastes. Thankfully the man changed the subject into asking about deities and such. It was a question that required much thought, especially from an atheist like the Mistress so she simply shrugged and said, "No. I don't worship gods. Nor am I inclined to follow them. I've already met a few and it was definitely not a wonderful experience."
  19. 2 points
    I still planned at least one more post with Pearl and Ilyana. But I can start another round soon after that, or do a clone if need be. I’m flexible.
  20. 2 points
  21. 2 points

    The Brittle King's Tragedy OOC

    @Jotnotes Celestine will cover for Ilyana, coming up to the head of the party, and take another shot at the nearest Reaver bearing down on them, bracing for hand-to-hand combat ?
  22. 2 points

    General chat thread

    Fun trivia: In Hawai'i, the ham-and-pineapple pizza is referred to as a "Haole Pizza". Haole is pidgin for "white [person]". Source: Lived in Honolulu 1997-2000
  23. 2 points

    Claiming the Furthest Point

    Charlie had figured his fireball would immediately disintegrate the Saveion upon impact, but all it did when it came into contact was blow off a few chunks of it's hide and set fire to it's fur. Normally even a beast of its size would have been blown to pieces, it's singed and burning remains flying in every direction. Even stranger, despite all the incoming gunfire and his initial attack, the Saveion turned to him with an angry rear and charged with alarming speed. Too fast for him to simply move out of the way. He wanted to stop and think about why it wasn't dead yet, but literally had no time to do so. Remembering the steps Mikey had taught him, he focused the heat within him and transmogrified his body into flames, zooming far to his right with great speed as his body briefly became intangible. The Saveion charged through a flaming visage of Charlie, hitting nothing but air as Charlie's real body reformed a ways away. He watched with angry confusion as the massive creature kept running until it slammed it's horned head into one of the wagons he was being paid to escort. He watched as the wagon rocked and splintered with the powerful hit. "Whoops." he said with a bland tone. He started to conjure up another fire-ball, but in that moment he grew unusually unlucky. "AGH!" Charlie yelped when he felt something slam into him again, this time hearing a sick and wet crunch coming from the right side of his rib-cage. His body sprawled across the ground as the Saveion that had hit him continued charging towards theri wagon, slamming against it and adding to it's damages. Charlie's world was a little hazy now, his sides now in immense pain that he hadn't felt since his last training session back home. He wasn't sure if he'd lost just a few ribs or all of them, but something was definitely broken. He reached over and felt his side, touching something warm and wet as he winced in pain. He rose his hand in front of him to see that it was covered in fresh blood. He never liked to see his own blood. He looked up towards the wagons, glaring at the Saveion as his eyes grew white hot with rage, the air around his body shimmering. That was twice now that he'd been blindsided by these creatures, and they'd managed to injure him pretty badly. His pride felt a little hurt, knowing that others with him had surely seen him take the hits. He envisioned them shaking their heads in disapproval and laughing at him, doing nothing to help his growing rage as he eyed the beasts before him. At that moment, he wanted more than anything for them die. He'd make them pay for embarrassing him with their lives. Whether or not they were just mindless creatures didn't matter to him. His hand grew orange with heat as he conjured up another fireball, but before he could throw it towards the creatures, he watched with piqued interest as one of them fell dead from a gunshot to the eye. The man that had done this was someone he'd seen from earlier. He reminded Charlie of one the outlaws he'd often been paid to capture or kill, having the appearance of a cowboy and even owning a six-shooter. The man tipped his hat at some woman who had been previously barraging the creatures with flames. Charlie's anger shifted to the man, not happy that he'd stolen his kill and tried to get the attention of one of the women. "What a grade A ***hole." mumbled Charlie with a shake of his head as he reabsorbed the fireball into his hand. With all the gunfire going on, none of the women would notice him if he kept firing from afar. Both his hands lit up with heat as stored copious amounts of energy into them. Then, channeling a small explosion at his feet, zoomed towards the remaining Saveion as he wound up his arm for an uppercut. A sound much like that of a shotgun resounded through the chaos as his fist made contact with the side of the creatures belly and exploded. He smiled as he expected to be assaulted with it's blood and shreds of it's innards, but this smile faded quickly. The Saveion had merely been sent a little ways into the air before landing on the ground a few yards away. It had felt like he'd hit an elephant so he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was regardless. There was charred, smoking, hole in it's underside where he'd hit it, but aside from that, the creature did not appear to be dead. "What the hell?!" he shouted angrily. He then winced and held his blood soaked side as the pain of his actions caught up with him like a train going full-speed. He wanted to double over and groan, wondering how Zack was able to put up with pain like this and dish it out tenfold as if his injuries weren't even there. Was Zack just that tough, or was he just that weak? He righted himself in defiance of this notion and took his blood-stained hand away. While his efforts didn't result in a kill, his up close and personal assault unwittingly prevented him from blowing up the wagons or setting them ablaze. He turned on a heel with a triumphant smile and placed his still burning fists on his side as he regarded the man and the woman confidently. "Boy this sure is fun, ain't it?" he said loudly, the pain in his eyes completely hidden by his hat as blood continued to pool from the hole in his side. "All this danger and death....makes a guy feel alive!" ...How ironic. Had Zack been there he would've been fervently chastising him for turning his back on an enemy, but Zack wasn't there. In fact, Zack would've done a lot of things differently to help out the others. But again, Zack wasn't there. They'd have to settle for Charlie, a trying task in itself. Perhaps one them would tell him to shut up and turn back around as the creature rose to its feet.
  24. 1 point

    Chapter 2: Kamikaze (LoD)

    o say there had been even a moment of peace in Albor would be heresy. Even while waves of condensation still rolled off of fresh human gore, it began. Sickening, bonelike cracks formed in the crust of Shawnee. A frothing pit of water squelched out of the continental Glacier’s intestines and the Terror of Kasyrga arose with jagged gates and all the various states of death and decay frozen in strings and skeletons about the manor. Scores of ravenous, unthinkable beasts with ice frozen on their jowls and claws that could rend steel swarmed from the spiked chasm for Albor. The earth quaked, as if fighting to swallow something that wouldn’t go down. And then it emerged. The guardian to the Terror’s hand slammed down on the edge of the new canyon to lift It upward. It rose, towering, between the two remnant bastards of gate. Even from a quarter mile away his countenance was an undeniable, unexpected terror. It began walking toward the gates, trampling the Ice Mongrels beneath its massive hooves. Blue lightning struck its crown and generated an ongoing circuit that broiled there like a small cosmos of plasma. When it reached the gates, It crouched and placed its elbows on the bulbous carapace of its knees. It waited, and between it and Albor swarmed the Ice Mongrels. The scant survivors of the harbor town, who had fled or burrowed into the snow for safety, wouldn’t be able to hide from the Mongrels keen noses. Neither, they knew as they watched the steam from the blood of their loved ones rise into the sky with frozen fog, would they survive when the yetis came. Their meager defenses had been thoroughly destroyed by the Legion. Even now, the distance echoed with their feral roars mingled in with something.. more reptilian. The Terror had risen.
  25. 1 point

    Of Farewells and Dying Thots

    Death comes for us all and not even the Mistress can escape it. Her death at Shwanee was rather disappointing. There were no last stands, no final blaze of glory. There was just a woman standing between the Legion led Dredge and the poor vilagers of that small coastal settlement. It was perhaps a bittee death, more anti-climatic and easily forgotten than what the woman known as the Mistress has hoped for. For all her attention seeking ways, her tale ended on a random island with an audience who never knew her or the burden she carried. Even in death she knew no peace as the Legion, her former friends and allies, had opted to burn her body to ashes in fear of her coming back. In that cold and cruel land, there was a solemn blaze, the mutilated corpse of a woman burning inside. Her death has brought many changes. With her gone, the core members of the cartel lost interest in their cause. They even elected a new Black Head to lead their version of the cartel, a leader none of the core members recognized nor wanted to follow. Then there was Ravenbush. Or Shishi to be precise. The Mistress' prodigal sister, one she and her mother, the Lady had kept away from the cartel and their nefarious activities. And she returned to give respect for this sibling of hers. There wasn't even a ceremony as no official wanted to give sevice to a public enemy. In fact, those she approached were glad that Shishi's sibling was finally gone for good. Shishi did have mixed feelings about this funeral, of it can be called one. On one hand, Shshi always liked her sibling when the Mistress was still a boy named Middy, on the other had, she hated the Mistress when the woman became a terrorist. Such conflicted emotions did not stop Shishi Ravenbush from solemnly wielding the shovel, a solitary figure digging a loathsome hole for a woman who did not deserve such mercy. It took a good hour or so before Shishi could finally lower Middy's coffin down the howl. It might have been life sized but all it had were the limited ashes Shishi managed to recover from Shawnee. Thei bind in their souls guided Shishi to clumps of ash buried within the snow and frost, the grey remains of the Mistress. There were no tears in Shishi's eyes as she learned of the Mistress' fate. She only had grudging respect for this criminal. Drenched in sweat, Shishi sat on the cold hard ground beside's the Mistress' still open grave. Soon others would come to say their farewells to the Mistress. Shishi made sure of that. The Mistress had a list of people but Shishi did not believe that anyone would actually come for the Mistress' funeral. Not even Shishi could call this sham a funeral. But she did what her sister's last wishes were. And she had one last task left. To wait for a few days before finally sealing the Mistress' grave. And so Shishi would wait.
  26. 1 point

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    Bleidd rolled the enchanted marble thoughtfully between her fingers. So, this was it, wherever she ended up now was where she would have to stay. She had been given one more chance, turned away from the doors of the afterlife, she was to retain the balance of her new home in whatever small manner she was able. There was no going back, only forward. She allowed the marble to fall to her feet, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. There was a sudden absence of everything. Reality shifted, twisted, compressed and then blinked her out of existence. For a moment she was nowhere, then quite suddenly she found herself relocated. Bleidd stood quite still for several moments carefully absorbing the information of her surroundings and getting her bearings. The climate seemed temperate and familiar enough, before her stood a small building she recognized to be an inn or tavern of some sort, the village in which it stood seemed built in such a way that no matter where you stood this building became the focal point. Bleidds had no doubt that this was intentional and not some happy coincidence. A few, what she perceived to be, locals passed her entirely uninterested in her sudden appearance. Infact she got the distinct impression that it was almost expected. Her calf skin boots made no noise as she moved towards the door. She walked with the bearing and poise of someone who knows their form and it's capabilities well. At average height, with a lithe and supple frame she wouldn't particularly catch the eye. Her outfit is made up of many layers, first close fitting then loose, wrapped around and tied neatly at the waist. Trousers match the top, loose fitting from below the waist, tucked into her knee high soft soled boots. The colours were designed to be evasive, depending on who you asked she could have been wearing grey, black,navy blue or faded varieties of all three. The only obvious weapon was a plain bone handled Dirk slipped into her right boot. She pushed open the door, and slipped quietly in behind a man who appeared to be another displaced traveler and a good humoured barkeep. As she stepped softly to the side, her toe brushed against a notebook left carelessly on the floor, in less than the blink of an eye, she pocketed the book, and returned her attention to the room. Bleidd had a gift for remaining unseen, for appearing so utterly ordinary that she drew little if any attention. A quick assessment of her surroundings led her to locate a quiet corner with a good view of the room. There she quietly seated herself, viewing the interactions between the other patrons.
  27. 1 point

    Spare a dime ooc

    Update: I am in too much already and can't take another thread. Good thing I caught myself before letting anyone down. If things change I'll update again
  28. 1 point

    Just Checking [closed]

    Well. This had been a very productive meeting. In the span of a single rant, Abigail Karradeen had given Rozharon a clear picture of her character, her views on Damien Gillick in comparison to her father, a personal account of Karradeen’s experience under the Tyrant King, and oh, something truly interesting - the old house head was apparently planning a revolution. It was a pity Taen had come when it had for Karradeen, at least. Though the revolution, as Rozharon well knew revolutions went, would have been either long, drawn-out, and successful, or short and quickly extinguished. It would have been bloody either way. It was doubtful any stockpile of weapons could have stood up against the Black Knights, but regardless, it was good to note Karradeen was in possession of those. Rozharon, perhaps unnervingly so, did not so much as bat an eyelid during Abigail’s outburst. The seraph waited patiently, expression blank, with the air of a parent waiting for a child to tire itself out from throwing a fit. “Iᴛ’s ꜰɪɴᴇ,” Rozharon said, her tone perfectly neutral once more. “I ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀsᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ… ᴅɪꜰꜰɪᴄᴜʟᴛ. Aᴛ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴀᴛᴇ I ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ Sɪɴɢʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʟᴇss sᴛʀᴇssꜰᴜʟ. Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛ, ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏ." Karradeen's demotion wasn't necessary, as far as the information available to her told her. However, restoring their status was not an option at the moment. She would not go against Titus' word, at least not so quickly.
  29. 1 point
    Dolor Aeternum

    Redemption is for Everyone

    The Nature’s Repose Inn was a recent acquisition that was conveniently near the Weary Orc tavern and it would be the first of many acquisitions in that tavern’s vicinity. Frequent talks with the tavern owner had proven fruitless but as stubborn as the man was, Ilyana would find his weakness and exploit it in the end. She had just returned from having a heated conversation with the man and it was evident in the way that she forced herself in to the business with a forceful gait that almost discouraged an employee from approaching her to let her know that a guest had arrived. Mori had been treated with preferential bias, given whatever she wanted and provided whatever access was needed to begin her work not that the specialist truly needed it at all. As the young female employee let Ilyana know Mori had arrived and was present in the lobby nearby, Ilyana shot her black gaze to the woman typing away and smiled widely. Mori was the first person of her extended family she had seen outside of Xavier who was not as pleasing to look at. Her excitement easily made her forget her previous annoyance as she approached someone she considered a long lost sister. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting for so long. I am glad you came.” Ilyana assumed that Mori had been hard at work already but was not aware of how much progress she had already made so she paused a bit before curiosity finally urged her to ask. “What are you doing right now? Is there anything else you need from me?” Ilyana practically hovered over Mori, unaware if that would annoy the specialist who was clearly in her element right now. The entrepreneur could make out that Mori was actually working on something pertaining to her business but she wouldn’t pretend to know anything about it. Eventually Ilyana would just take a seat to Mori’s left at the round table within this lobby, resting forearms on the table while she waited for her response. There wasn’t any urgency at all to get things done right now and she was content with waiting however long it took before Mori’s response.
  30. 1 point

    Harsh Treatment.

    Grant nodded, "I'll have my men bring over the documents with the information you seek. I also asked them to prepare a primer on the basic functions of a water treatment plant, just in case you need them. Oh, and there is another scientist I'd like you to meet to discuss the algal bloom. Don't worry, this one is a bit less eccentric than Mr. Graham." As he walked with Thurgood through the facility he suddenly felt as though he was being watched, though strangely it did not provoke any kind of paranoia. It was a familiar sensation, one that he knew he had felt before, but not for some time now. He turned to try and find the source of the feeling, but saw nothing when he did so. For just a moment, he thought he could feel a chill in the air, and suddenly he felt a pang of sadness in his chest. "Reyna..." After a few moments had passed, he shook his head, and continued following Thurgood.
  31. 1 point

    To Arm, Or Not To Arm

    Grant looked over the documents, "As someone who is intimately familiar with such weaponry, I can say that these weapons seem exceptionally well designed. The expertise of your engineers is obvious just from viewing their designs." Indeed, these weapons seemed to take heavy inspiration from currently available firearms, and incorporate them into their own work. Don't fix what isn't broken as the old saying went, and the Prince was impressed that the creators had felt no need to reinvent the wheel when it came to making their weapons. He now felt better about the deal they were making for the weapons. Of course, he would have bought them anyway, just to facilitate good relations; but knowing they were quality products made it much easier. "I would be happy to purchase all three models, Mr. Ambassador."
  32. 1 point
    Like most of Corinth though, this little slice of it is also heavily wooded. The coring teams had to cut down lots of trees to place the drilling rig, which got taken to the closest sawyers to get dried, cut, then used for something. there's no doubt Thurgood wants to ramp up Ursa Madeum's timber industry as well, and he'll need that wood cut to very precise dimensions to make the forms for this poured-concrete house/bunker The fact is that House Uldwar will attack them at some point, and their place needs to be a bunker to withstand that attack. As Thurgood goes to mark out where he wants his place, an idea suddenly hits him: "Why don't I build our manor mostly into the rock? It'll have much more protection underground, a constantly lower temperature, and i won't need nearly as much concrete. That still requires the cement kiln arriving though with all the parts for the small wind farm I'll need to build to power it, which requires the port..." The other ports on Corinth either can't handle the physical size of these loads, can't berth the ships making the deliveries, can't handle the extra traffic, or can't stand House Singlance using them. Taking the loads through the portal requires lots of trucks to traverse very rough mountain roads to the blue hills portal, then across the jungle quadrant of Taen, which admittedly is much easier with the better roads Thurgood planned and constructed, but the portal to Ursa Madeum is right smack dab in the exact center of Andelusia. Yes, Thurgood did construct the road out of the portal as straight as he possibly could, but he couldn't make those streets as wide as he would have liked, and they're constantly jammed with traffic. Getting an F-350 through there is a feat already, but a convoy of semis is practically impossible; semis carrying 120-foot-long blades and giant steel tower sections is a straight-up fever dream! At least the geologic core studies necessitated a detailed topographical survey. This will be expensive, but necessary, and will get loads of use once the aluminum mill is up and running.
  33. 1 point

    She's back. Back again

    The action of the boat rocking was more than enough to eliminate any possibility of keeping the weapon on target. Soon enough the results of that scenario would cease to matter as the teenager was thrown clear of the soon to be wreck. Violently crashing against the side of the side of the craft would be the last thing the teenager felt before her consciousness quickly faded into darkness. ! The teenager was jolted awake to find herself damp from head to toe laying on her back. Through the discomfort and pain of the trial that brought her there was a strange sense of relief that she'd made it off the boat alive. As if on cue the apparent curse had returned, and the girl once again found herself alone in an unfamiliar place. Though battered and bruised it was fortunate that the arrival hadn't broken anything. To make a point of reference she would first walk perpendicular to the beach before strolling along it. She would tread carefully to conserve her stamina. She'd need it to once again return to whatever semblance of a home existed for her in civilization. After a minute of so of walking her eyes were drawn to something on the beach that stood out from the distant reaching dirt and sand. It was Rai! Upon noticing the young woman was in some manner of turmoil May would approach from her front in an effort to be noticed while checking the area surrounding Rai for any danger. Her green and blue eyes scanned up and down her ally for any sign of injury. "Hold still. I know some first aid." She'd considered first questioning Rai find more regarding this predicament, but such action would probably end up fruitless with the individual answering in such a poor state.
  34. 1 point
    Sleepy Seal

    Child of the Forest

    “Yes. She travelled for days without sleep in order to reach Hyperion this soon,” he replied. Realising that the girl was just frightened, he allowed his look to subside. ”Please come with me. I will get you some proper clothing and answer any questions you have.”
  35. 1 point
    Meanwhile.... 'The Mistress doing pee-pee?" Little Sans mused. The sudden disapperance of the Mistress had greatly disturbed Sansalon's limited thought processes that putting an effort into discerning her boss' whereabouts would cause Sansalon's brain to explode. Figuratively at least. "Her pee pee is long." Little Sans was disturbed that the Mistress still hasn't returned. It had been an hour or so and sill no Middy. Little Sans knew that when women pee pee, it takes a long time but not this long. Or perhaps there's a long line of women and Middy was at the end portion of it. Yes, it was more plausible that Middy was just patiently waiting for her turn to pee pee than having Middy fight a giant monster just so she can do her pee pee. Thinking about all this pee pee troubled Little Sans' bladder. It seems she was not immune to the call of nature as it didn't take a while for her to start squirming in her seat. Even Natalya, who was baside her, was startled. Natalya's concerned look only made Sansalon's face turn red in embarassment. "Natalya. Little Sans need to pee pee. Help me. Fast." She spat out while her hands held onto her her crotch area. She was already up on her tiny feet, her teeny legs squirming and buckling in dire need of sweet release from the watery hell that has befallen her bladder.
  36. 1 point

    What do you know ooc

    Placeholder Am calling the next post
  37. 1 point

    Terrenus AMA 2.0

    Not lore-related, but I hope this is the appropriate place to ask: how'd you do the formatting of the location links on the Terrenus Landing Page? The list of location links are laid out in multiple columns but they adjust depending on the screen width, and I can't figure out how to do it so far with tables.
  38. 1 point

    General chat thread

    Let’s create the U L T I M A T E PIZZA!
  39. 1 point

    Let's Make A Deal [Stormlands]

    Marcus felt the dart strike his agonized shoulder. He scarcely had time to curse at it before the smooth burn of what he hoped was a mild anesthetic began to settle in. Thankfully, Faust's mad charge forward was arrested by the appearance of one of the ship's crew just before they hit the ramp. Marcus released Faust's reins as the stallion reared up defensively - and to his surprise, the elf there was able to calm him down just as quickly. "Leveatha, Faust valtambathi. Etara si malnari coenya lasta felthalale." Had he been more alert, a little less wearied and battered, Marcus might have inquired how his rescuer happened to know his horse's name. Instead, he gratefully accepted the assistance proffered in simply making it up the ramp and into the ship before the Casimir began to unleash hell. "Quite the loyal animal you have here." Marcus gave a quick nod in response. "Faust is.. an unusual companion. I'm not sure where my brother managed to find him, but he's a surprisingly astute one." As if to agree, Faust stamped his feet against the hard metal of the deck. Marcus laughed softly. He gave the Elf a pointed look as he touched his hand, but swiftly realized that he was obviously not there to harm. Besides, decking someone is hardly a fair thanks for their aid. "The name's Winter. Thanks for the help out there, mate." "Well met," Marcus answered, brushing the locks from his good eye before he gave the elf a solid handshake. "My name is Marcus Caesar, but anyone that saves my rear is welcome to call me Marc." He was about to speaker, but the hull suddenly shook with an unexpected impact and the tortured squeal of ripping metal. And then the clatter of explosive submunitions detonating all around them. "Sounds like we're in for a hell of a day." - - - - Marcus was a guest aboard the Casimir - and as such he was polite enough to leave the Magnum in its holster as the negotiations begin. Oh, his hand was still resting on its scorched grip, but he had no inclination to draw steel and make himself too an obvious target during the negotiations. Besides that, the tremendous energy of his last shot had overwhelmed his warding runes and warped the silver cylinder into an oblong tube of charred metal. His spare cylinder was mounted, but Marcus was loath to test the newer design in action when his life depended on it. He frowned deeply as Darnell and Echo squared off tersely. His fingers tightened hard around the Magnum as the tension threatened to explode. He had kept a conventional load of ammunition ready - six shots rapid into the leader, and then a hex round or two into the metal one, he decided. Of course, there'd probably be enough lead flying soon enough that it'd be a futile endeavour for all of them. Thankfully, the strange robotic one seemed to have a cooler head and tightly restrained the situation before it could get any closer to a shooting match. The mercenary watched their erstwhile captors as they vanished down the ramp. Getting involved further profited him little. The smart thing to do would be to pack up and leave the ship and its crew to their fate. Even whatever intel he could gather from selling its location would be worthless if it ended up killing him in the process. Moreover, he felt an odd kinship with them. He had been there at the last, desperate stand of the Astoria as it went down in flames. Fought among its shattered ruin. Different crew, different times, but even so he did not wish to abandon them so easily. “Someone help me patch that damn hole in the bridge.” "Aye, Captain," he answered smoothly, and turned to do just that.
  40. 1 point

    Bring me a Dream

    “Wonderful! I’m glad we’re looking cohesive already. I shall head to Mortimer’s progenitors and the three of you to the goodliest pharmaceutical distributors of Lunaris. Within each bag is a three-month’s supply of medicine courtesy our contributor, Catalyst. Catalyst is a researcher of the night life in Terrenus, which commonly results in greater levels of sickness which Catalyst is known for trying to combat. Catalyst medicine is cheaper because we, the mixers of the medicine, also transport it without the same royalties as a synthesis-distribution company merger would. Catalyst medicine is healthier because it’s backed by greater resources and its compounds are totally organic. Lastly, you’ll find a comm crystal that fits in your ear in case you need to contact anyone else on the team should anything go wrong.” Unloading the mentioned bags for the three who would bring goodness to their own respective pharmacies like saints on holiday eves, Amantis imparted this information on the contents to their receivers. The morning sun was rising; it was a clear day. The air was brisk though, and a fine mist emanated from Theodore’s thick whiskers. He pinched a twirl of his beard in his hand, looking on the transformation of the worm mage. The rising sun cast their long shadows down the morning path between slats of tree shadows, the first birds of Lunaris just rising from their slumber as the Catalyst imposters stood in the bare dawn. “And dear Reginald.” All about the journey, the regularly subdued Amantis’ eyes had flashed with the daring of another; the cunning of another. He was himself such a powerful brain that it seemed unthinkable looking on his bold, brunettely bearded visage that he might be a puppet of the First Officer. This ultimately devious intent glistening upon Reginald could certainly not belong to Amantis. “Reginald, take this,” he handed the transformed butler a packed manila folder. “Within you will find drafts of vetting papers from several hospitals around Tia, Palgard, and Casper dated within the last three years. These verify the safety of Catalyst medicine, there is a contract signed by me submitting to any searches, and another— also signed by me— that verifies we will absorb any transportation costs and a reasonable application of import tax.” “Don’t mind me,” he said, removing a cloudy crystal like the others had from his padded coat and nestling it in his right year. “I’ll be in touch.” With that, Theodore got in the hover vehicle and revved the engine. The sound of an ionic buildup; a softer semblance of a turbo whine; heralded his launch down the path between a grid of trees toward Mortimer’s Lab.2 (ML2). When he rolled— er, hovered— up, what he saw was a spire-like facility sitting in the high branches of a fat tree enclosed by a tall stone wall. Crowning the treetop was a green bulb that periodically pulsed a green pillar into the sky. Entering the stone walls and parking alongside the tree, getting out of his vehicle about 4 minutes after he’d left his comrades confidently, Amantis entered the trunk of the tree that was ML2’s facility. There was large, fanciful elevator that lead him up to the facility. Regularly people coming through this entrance needed medicine. Instead, the backpacked Theodore was here to give medicine! He hummed the theme to Mr. Sandman as the elevator *ding*ed open, loafers leading his lab coated, then regular-coated visage down the carpet leading up to the desk. “Good Day!” said the young santalike man to the middle-aged Rodrigo, who was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Rodrigo had vaguely heard of a famed Theodore Amantis in Terrenus, the creator of the Faux-Ton transportation service; but Theodore had learned everything about Rodrigo, Tabitha, and George. “Good morning,” said Rodrigo with a standard smile. He had no idea he was about to get rich.
  41. 1 point

    Blowing Off Steam

    SUMMARY: After discovering a previously unknown element now known as Vulcanium, Issac Graham has done a great deal of research on it, and is visited by Lord's Grant and Singlance. Once they arrive, he gives them a rundown of what he has learned during his experimentation. He explains that Vulcanium is a purple hued mineral that superheates upon contact with water. The process creates a sort of super steam hot enough to warp steel, and produces a violent explosion. Afterwards, he takes the two men down into the labs, where he shows them some potential applications for the new mineral. Thurgood, promises to bring a sample of a mysterious metal for Issac to research. SHORT SUMMARY: Issac Graham explains what he's learned about the mysterious mineral known as Vulcanium. @Alexithymia @Csl
  42. 1 point

    Chapter 2: Kamikaze (LoD)

    KETH THE WAYWARD ORC "Smashing smashing, fun fun fun We smash all these monsters, dun dun dun Monsters monsters, run run run Keth the wayward orc has come come come Run little monster, be gone gone gone You puny little life will come undone, done done done Monsters monster, scram scram scram Keth the wayward orc has come come come!" Oh it was such a fun day for the half-orc named Keth as he sung thsi wondrous song from the bottom of his heart. It was all the chance he needed. There's nothing he wanted more that to stand close to the big bads and fight beside them. It was his dream, his ambition. To feel the glory of the warring orcs of his line. Oh such a wondrous opportunity for the young half-orc. He will not miss this chance, this battle is his for the taking. Ware Keth, the wayward orc. There was no more cars to drive, no airships to crash, no bitchy, coat-loving edgelord women to nag at him. It was just him and his blade against other monsters. Within his hands was the bastard sword the one-eyed woman has gifted him. It was his beloved blade, one that has claimed many a foe's head and thirsts for more. It seeks blood akin to its master's hunger. It may not be sentient but Keth thinks it is. Oh woe these creatures fate as they face against this blade and its owner, Keth the wayward orc. Undaunted by the enemy's numbers, the half-orc bared his fang in a mocking grin. The challenge of fighting this sea of foes excited him to his very core, his orcish core. The bloodlust lying dormant within his orcish blood has awoken, pumping steel and vigor into his body. Oh he was ready, ready as any orc can be. Soon they will all regret opposing this warmongering orc, this Keth,the wayward orc. He prayed to his gods that they protect him in this battle. He offered the lives of all these monsters to his very gods as sacrifice. The gods shall be pleased by this generous offering. Yes, he shall be blessed by the orcish gods this very moment. Oh how he pity his enemies now. With blind faith, half-orc hefted his blade, letting lose his clan's warcry. "HUZZAH!"
  43. 1 point

    Naughty.... Or Nice? (OOC)

    Post Terraria Stress Disorder.
  44. 1 point

    Chapter 2: Kamikaze (LoD)

    "Well? What do you think?" "I don't know what the hell those are, and I kind of don't want to find out..." "I don't see the problem; Era can use fire and lava, and you can use blue fire, Mom." "The problem is that they are ice monsters, hon! Even if we did know that they were vulnerable to fire and the like, we don't actually know what the hell they can do! Besides, your dad's about as useless as a paper fan in a wildfire against any of those things, since it's likely they don't even use magic or have it!" "Aw, come on..." Ara grumbled from the sidelines. The family of four had just rendezvoused at the edge of Albor, literal seconds after finishing delivering the promised Sherpas to the Legion. All two of them. There really weren't people around here, and at the moment it didn't look like they had time to find any more. Between the small child Matsuri had taken, the assassin that Era had escorted in, and the running away that Aria had done, they had consumed a lot of time, and even Ara, who had run all the way back to the town after finishing his self-assigned mission of eliminating runners, had no time to prepare for the impending army that was now charging towards combat with the Legion. Death was coming, and they were hilariously unprepared for it. "So, what's the strategy?" Aria asked, eyeing the Terror from afar. "Aria, you're with me. Darling, Era, Operation Backdoor," Ara quickly snapped the sentence out, starting to move towards the battlefield already. "Isn't that..." "No, not that one, hon," Matsuri grumbled exasperatedly. "The other one." "I wasn't thinking about that!" "Yes, you were." "Aw, come on..." Aria sighed in sarcastic and melodramatic fashion, exaggerating the imitation of her father, starting to migrate her merry way the battlefield after him. "Mom... which one was Backdoor? I get confused with Dad's codes," Era whispered to Matsuri, tugging on the hem of her sleeve. "This one is one word! It's not like his twenty-word codes!" "We have twenty-word codes?" "You get the damn point," Matsuri lightly smacked her son on the back of his head. "Let's just go already. Hate to keep them waiting." And thus the little family split; the mother and her son, both accelerating themselves with spurts of fire, attempted to retreat back, looking for a vantage point to where they could execute their master plan. The father and his daughter, migrating like wildebeests, slowly and steadily moving towards the battle. Aria, drawing twin shortswords of black steel and gold, one of elvish make and one of human make. Her father, ever the human warrior, pulling off of his back a crossbow, loading it with a bolt, and then from his hip drawing a dagger. Not quite eager to constantly war over whatever the hell this was, but hey, they were getting paid, right?
  45. 1 point

    Destruction des morts

    It soon dawns on Belladonna that she seems to have adopted two new companions, albeit slightly-unwanted ones. She is not yet sure what to make of the orc—Xavier, he had introduced himself as—and quite frankly, the nanny is nowhere near the top of her list for preferred companions. "Bel, please. While most people seem to think looting is fun but such uncivilized acts are way beyond me. I'm not some lowly thug that will make use of this sudden opportunity to scavenge what has been left by their fleeing owners. Please don't lower me to your level." She resists the urge to roll her eyes; that would not do, and it would be too unbecoming of her. Belladonna settles for a breathy chuckle and a tighter grip on the woman’s arm. “My, where else can you get such wonderful toys for free? I am not one to let such opportunities go by without taking action.” She watches the nanny blow a stream of smoke straight at Xavier, take out a subpar cigar, and extend it towards her. She does not deign to accept the offering nor to respond to the derisive comment thrown her way. “A Mistress Blackhead to see you, will be en route soon,” she tells Cain through the mind link. @amenities She leads them through the darkened streets, screams and chaos just faintly discernible from beyond the buildings further ahead, near the center of the city. They will eventually have to make their way into the disorderly, violent fray to get to Cain and reunite with the rest of the skeletons soon. But first: a mission. There had been a specific group that had caught her eye while scanning the documents granted to them before the mission. Belladonna thinks on it for a moment, sifting through her memories to obtain the name—ah, yes: the Rooks. She recalls that they are a mercenary group, favoring humans and defending them from the vampires. Perhaps she should take a detour and convince them to fly the flag of the Dead and fight under its banner. “Now, have you two ever heard of Girdy’s Girders or Priscilla's?” Belladonna gives them both a thoughtful look. “I have it in mind to take something far more interesting than money, for now.” She begins steering them down the paths that lead to those establishments, the night wailing at its core: the city is under attack. Take what you will and give nothing back. @Dolor Aeternum @Thotification
  46. 1 point
    The Servant in her hands trembled. He was so obviously nervous, in fact, that the Commander was not only gripping his collar but was also the only thing preventing him from collapsing to the ground. Although she didn't have the ability to read his mind, it didn't take a genius to see the old man had frozen. Rather than responding to her commands, he was much more likely to piss his pants. Unfortunately the Prophet's Servants didn't quite measure up under pressure. She sighed and released the old man much as one might to a bag of garbage. What little information she'd originally obtained about Everrun was, apparently, incorrect. The Servants were nothing like her Paragons. If the Prophet himself turned out to be the same type of fodder as his Servants, well, she wasn't sure Everrun could handle that level of anger from her. The squabble between Mavago and the old necromancer wasn't quite helping her mood either. When the Paragon looked at her for direction, the Commander just stared back with a slight frown as if to say "Remember who you are and what you represent. Mind your position." Right after was the first of apparently many showings of teleportation that evening. Instead of continuing on, annoyed, she flared her aura. Just once. But if the Prophet had any level of really ability, one flare of such enormous strength would be easily spotted. Especially when confronted with energy as inherently threatening as hers. After all, if she find him, she'd make sure he would find her. And then the pressure vanished, leaving the Commander appearing to be nothing but a vaguely bored looking passerby. Except for the small tendrils of dominance that continued to leak from her body despite her attempt to stopper it. Mastering the simultaneous usage of her three weapons was proving to be slightly more difficult than she'd imagined. Then it happened. A thin swirl of magic or energy, it could've been either, reached out to envelop them. It may have appeared to be invisible or beyond stopping to most, but the Commander saw everything. Her red eyes empowered from arcane sight easily traced the magic trails that desired to take them. And she let it. Teleportation magic of this level was rarely seen in Valucre: mainly left to be the play thing of territory masters. And, apparently, powerful old necromancers. As the magic took hold of her, Venus, and Mavago , the Commander threw them a rare grin. "Guess there is some power in this little town." That smile, however, was quick to vanish after the magic released them into the new surroundings, some sort of room. Not only was the Prophet's back turned to her, but his first words were asking a question of her. As if he were in charge of the situation. That was a dynamic he would soon realize was grossly inaccurate. "It's rare that I have such interesting visitors," he drawled, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" [The Prophet] In her usual detached mannerism, the Commander simply stood there for a beat. Looking at the Prophet and cocking her head slightly before shifting her gaze to take in the room itself. It had a certain atmosphere she found quite unusual for a man is proclaimed a Prophet. Finally the Commander's red eyes settled back on to Iblis and the corner of her lips lifted upward, if only in milometers. She grabbed a nearby chair and set it where she'd previously stood, casually sitting on it to face the man. "There's this gorgeous city I visited once. It sits right there on the edge of Timber Creek," she said, her words taking on a particularly enchanted tone, "seeming to be forever bound by the ancient whisperings of their ancestors. As a people who were born and raised on a need for survival, they have this competition every year. It doesn't have a name, not really. I'm told, however, that the natives like to refer to it as Bone Season. Each tribe in the city pick there weakest member and send them off to fight against the other weaker members. It's quite fascinating, really. How even the weakest of men can claw their way to power." A pause. The Commander placed her right hand, the one within Zengi's gauntlet on her lap, tapping her finger ever so gently onto her knee. "They're all dead now," she said abruptly, not bothering to lead into it. "Do you know how an entire city filled with men and women whose sole purpose in life was to obtain power all found themselves at the bottom of their beloved creek?" Another pause. Another tap. Her eyes still trained to the Prophet's very own if he eventually turned around. It didn't matter though - the question was rhetorical. "They tried to 'civilize' themselves. Ended up killing each other." The Commander sighed. "I guess that's what happens when you try to fight something beyond your station in life." Her last sentence was soaked in potential violence, an obvious warning for the Prophet to obey. He had the same option everyone else had before her. Obey or perish.
  47. 1 point

    Under The Hot Desert Sun

    Khepri got to her feet with a pained groan, still a bit weak from her injury. She placed her hand on Tobias’s wrist. “Its ok - its already been done.” She could sense the tension in the room, “Look - look.” She took his hand and ran it over the still healing scar, it was tender, but she would show him she was alright. She wasn’t at all unnerved by how he was or the way he looked, it simply was - him. “Scarlet, she saved me -“ She said softly, gently, such a strange change from her normal rough demeanor, “And Philip the cat helped of course.” She turned to smile in a disarming way to Scarlett and then looked between the two of them. She still couldn’t believe her Ruban was standing there - not dead. It was surreal, and tense, Scarlett wouldn’t hesitate to kill him in the blink of an eye if he offended her - which he was very likely to do in some way. How strange to be standing between these two powerful forces - still half dead and in more than a little pain now that it was throbbing dully from the healing it still needed to do. She dropped to one knee between them both and put her hands on the floor for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She reached out to the comfort of Scarlett for help up, and when she stood she would try to keep an amicable and not tense nature between them. ‘Scarlett - this is - my fated one - Tobias.” She said with a warmth like the sun, “Tobias - this is the Goddess of War.”
  48. 1 point

    The Azatar

    The Azatar, also known as one of the most popular holidays on all of Valucre, is also known as Time of Cheer. The legend that started long ago is that once a year at the end of Valucre, a trio of wise sages known as the Azatar Collective foresaw that if the world continued as it was, that greed and selfishness would eventually take over, and that the general people would lose faith in one another. In order to stop this, they headed towards the center of all magical fluxes and leylines, a place where everything and anything was connected to. And there, they constructed a special spell, a special spell that transcended the veil of magic itself and became something new. They created something built upon and supporting the power of hope, faith, and kindness. And through this, they created a special time of year, an event that would occur each and every year without fail across all of Valucre that would spread those ideals. That would make children wake up full of joy and hope, and to put their faith in something even if the faith itself fails them. And so, through this magic, reality itself warped according to the legends. The three sages became the Spirits of Azatar, Aza-kor, the Great Spirit of Hope, Aza-rol, the Great Spirit of Faith, and Aza-yir, the Great Spirit of Kindness. And so, once a year, they would travel across the world of Valucre, and would deliver presents under the closest tree to the homes of people, or in their homes if they had placed a tree inside their home. It is said that they have a race of immortals, Knells, a group of people who grow only to the size and appearance of children, that help coordinate the distrubution, production, and operation of toys and presents that are delivered. And over time, others also took to the tradition, placing presents under the tree and keeping them wrapped and sealed until the spirits deliver their own presents, which marked it as the time to open them. And so, the holiday of Azatar has been born. In various regions, there have been some minor additions here or there, including one that created the strange creation known as "Fruitcake", and another that featured a tradition involving the kissing under the mistletoe. But needless to say, it has become a time of year that brings love and joy to people everywhere, especially the hearts of children, and has inspired numerous charity events, countless movies, and have brought people back together time and time again. It did, and does, exactly what those sages meant for it to do.
  49. 1 point

    Serphus Aluminum; The Neverend

    Esben laughed as Rodham spoke. How he still thought Seldeth lived and breathed. His hand landed on Amoura's shoulder as she protected him. O’ how she was a beautiful tool, an uncomplete one at best. But she did stop the kid from attacking him. Eyeing the attack bouncing back, he didn't want his new toy getting damaged. It's obvious he won't listen to the truth Amoura. Lhorr was a convining convincing leader. He charmed all, including you, with every word. It's truly amazing you'd blindly follow to the end. And I find it sad. Esben moved towards Rodham and away from Amoura. He was not some scared child. And though he hated fighting, should it occur, he could do it. He eyed the lad silently for a moment as he shook his head. I do wonder though, how you managed to live that day. I was sure everyone was killed. Virga’s face was priceless. I had both his daughters, defiled them and wasted them to nothing. He wanted me to suffer. And how I did. Lhorr, well he was just another pawn in the whole affair. The elf sneered. Looking back at Amoura, his eyes would show the satisfaction of obtaining her once more. He wouldn't let her escape this time. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Rodham wanted to save her, it was foolishly stupid. Tell me kid, did Lhorr tell you I was the evil one? I'm the enemy? Did you know they planned to sell your little Seldeth to Grant Lyon? Did you believe that I destroyed her? Because Lhorr and what's his name--Saerenth was it? Did you know they defiled her? Treated her as a servant? No, you wouldn't, would you? Esben asked as he eyed Rodham coldly. You'd believe Virga over me just to get back something that isn't yours! She's mine. Always has been. You see, I met Amoura in Talia, the little market square in 1671AY. I charmed my way through that cold heart of hers-- He paused as he shook his head. Esben was getting irritated. He couldn't hold his composure though he tried. Rodham was a knight, a bodyguard of a high level. Esben was a man who knew the forbidden magic, the land itself. He studied everything as a boy. He closed his eyes as the ground shook beneath him. Rocks picked up and flew at Rodham yet this wasn't going to just win the battle but he hope it would distract him enough for the twin attack. Amoura knew her master well enough that he was going to use her for this. She fired the magical tentacle again but this time he pulled out a bow, crafted in the catastrophe ore. Readying an arrow of catastrophe horizon ore upon it, he fired straight at Rodham's chest. He couldn't block both could he? Esben then lowered the bow. It’s their fault. I rescued her, loved her. And they all stabbed me in the heart because I made the ore. I helped the islands stay afloat. Rodham, you are going to suffer, like them all. O’ how he seethed. Esben seethed as he stood there staring down Rodham. He couldn't contain it. In all his grand composure, this man made him lose it. He then looked at Amoura before turning away. Shaking his head, Esben sighed. You should know before you die, that Lhorr picked you because he believed you to be stupid. He picked you because he knew you'd not question him. Seldeth--no. Amoura as she was, was a toy to all of you, except me. I’m going to restore Amoura, her memories, everything you robbed her of. You, will be nothing more. Should the ore arrow hit Rodham he would feel slightly off. That the words Esben spoke would be heard off and on. He placed his hand on Amoura’s shoulder once more, becokening her to come. That they were done here. That they were going home to Talia. Come my pet. We have a new city of Platinum-Neptune to build. We have a elder to replace and you to be restored. And of course meet my second in command, Ra. He then looked back at Rodham. He cared not for the boy. Should he die here he would be reborn as a gluttonous demon. Only desiring one thing and nothing more, the ore. Esben pulled Amoura along. But to Rodham, the buckets around him looked so promising. The ore beckoning to be eaten. Consumed. It called to him, wanting him. Esben shook his head. He wanted the boy to suffer. He stopped a moment as he looked at Amoura. O' my pet, I think we can make him suffer. Show him Seldeth. Have her skin and face make him consume the ore. Pretend to be her and "escape" me. I want to see the look on his face when you crush his hope. Esben whispered low into her ear as he slowly walked. How the game was always changing. And he enjoyed it.
  50. 1 point

    [Axis Mundi] Comfort in the Familiar

    "First, your name..." "Alex... Alexandra Caelestia. But... Alexa is fine." She said with slight hesitation. She felt a small pull from her mind the moment the man's eyes laid gaze on her. A few seconds passed before a soldier entered the room, giving her a cup of tea and even kindly putting a blanket over her shoulders. Though his face remained reluctant of this treatment, the man seemed to act with care, if only following orders. She took a sip of the hot beverage. It was hot, cinnamon with a tinge of honey. Her hands shivered much less often now, as that familiar pull was felt once again in the borders of her mind. She was given an offer. Though not as extreme as a "Join or die", the question still gave her a sense of confusion. If she was so dangerous, why let her live. "A bullet to the head nullifies psykers just fine" she remembered some commissars uttering. Her thoughts would be answered by the inquisitor promtly, confirming her suspicion, the man was also a psychically capable person. The man would confirm so, but note the difference between their powers. It was in that moment that she entered the room, a poised, radiant figure in a long beautiful dress. Leoa walked towards them calmly yet in Alexa's eyes it was like her aura shined like the sun, all of the warmth without none of the burn. She almost moved out of the way instinctively, like fearing her own energy would somehow soil her light. Caelius and Leoa commuted while Alexa watched in silence. Her head tried to wrap around what was happening, rushing to find an answer. The thoughts of her sister's voice asking for help looped in her brain. Her trance was only stopped as Leoa laid her hands on her shoulders, a soft warmth "Drying" her cold and stopping her shivers. "I'll do it... I'll join you." She finally said. "I don't know of what use I could be. I'm... Damaged..." She held her arms close and looked down, a glint of the light reflecting from her bionic arm, a dim shadow of bags under her eyes from her nightmares.
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