Jump to content


Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation on 02/12/2020 in all areas

  1. 3 points
    Does YOUR Character do anything interesting to relax in an RP that you write for he/she/it? Example: benaires; Paints and Does Skateboarding in his spare time, plus drinks with Avus Insectium; used to Spar with Ami Mizuno back in yahoo Chat days. Avus Insectium: Spars with Benaires off and on; tries to find work to earn money; drinks with Benaires and Ami Mizuno Ephidrina DAICHON: Reads Stock Portfolios, drinks a cold beer while talking with his wife or his son Benaires Lady Quela Silver DAICHON: Drinks!! Abraxis Jenee Invectium: Drinks her own blood, takes 1-hour baths, nibbles on food items; LOVES Fried Chicken; snuggles up with Graymite Anthine Jones or flirts with her master Benaires Graymite Anthine Jones IV: Collects Postage Stamps; Drinks Wine with Ami Mizuno or Benaires Lady Argon Terrerum: Dreams about benaires; Drinks with Rebecca Jones and talks about Benaires!! Vertical Pig Of The Vorporals: Drinks Wine; studies DAICHON History; drinks Wine with the Vorporals or Benaires from time to time. What does YOUR CHARACTER do to relax?? benny
  2. 3 points

    Police Radio

    We have reports of an unidentified vehicle taking flight off of Crichton's Isle in the southwest (?). We're picking up chatter in the region that a dragon stirs and is making aerial rounds. | Whispernight ruins, Genesaris @Dolor Aeternum
  3. 3 points
    Dan was buffeted by the mad wind eating at his sanity. Despite being entirely immune to wind attacks. Gods, this thread series makes no sense. Noleroleon finally showed his bitch ass, only to erect a barrier around himself. Heheh. He said 'erect'. Dan heard to attack V something, and saw who it was. And, while he hated being told what to do, any gamer knows to deal with the healers first. So, he pointed and fired a beam, but as he did he suddenly saw two of them, and his beam missed. He scowled, and readied himself to deal with any attack that would come his way. Yeah, this post is lackluster, but nothing was coming to him, and he had to put SOMETHING out, so here ya go. Im sure he apologizes for the garbage lame post.
  4. 2 points
    The land Beneath the Sun Santado Island Ruler: Empress Raveena Contact: Malintzin Lore: Hyperion's History Quests: Quest Center AMA: Hyperion's AMA Flag: "We know not by what star we to this island come, only that the wildness calls to our voyaging hearts." Topography Hundreds of kilometers of coastline define Santado Island– some of it sugary white-sand beaches shaded by rows of palm trees, other parts lined dramatically with adventurous, rocky cliffs, wind-swept dunes or serene mangrove lagoons. Whether it’s fishing villages with boats moored along the shores, or indulgent tourist playgrounds with aquamarine waters, the sea is the common denominator surrounding this fertile crescent island. Villagers and travelers alike usually enjoy good visibility and a wide variety of sea life, as a reef is beginning to grow. Beyond the city of Matuga, much of Santado is distinctly wild: traveling through the vast fertile interior, you’ll see cows and horses grazing alongside the roads belonging to everyone and no one. Further inland you’ll encounter vistas reminiscent of the Cold Mountains further north, winding rivers carving their way through lush jungle and stunning waterfalls. Four of the five highest peaks in southern Genesaris rise above the fertile lowlands surrounding Santado, and a remote desert stretches through the southwest end of the crescent, giving Santado a cultural complexity rarely found elsewhere. Cityscape The Island of Santado has two distinct faces: there’s the smooth tourist countenance that is typical of Genesar island hospitality; and there’s Santado proper – a pretty gritty city, second only to Alethea in terms of status and chaos. Most of the island's fame lies outside the urban core in the fancy suburb of Matuga. Stay in the city, however, and you’re faced with an entirely different proposition – a riot of cacophonous debauchery and bustling humanity that offers an unscripted and uncensored slice of Genearsian life, warts and all. With its dilapidated architecture, unkempt parks and vibrant street life, Santado's touristy side has a laid-back feel and considerable charm in parts. It is most renowned for the exotic wild hunting preserve and refuge – an exhilarating chance to encounter Genesaris' most dangerous creatures. The City of Matuga is the centerfold of the city's illicit trades, including but not limited to smuggling, extortion, slavery, and prostitution. Climate The climate of the island is tropical, varying from tropical rainforest in some areas to tropical monsoon and tropical savanna in others. There are also some locations that are arid climates with considerable drought, and the peaks of mountains tend to have cooler temperate climates. While the region generally is sunny much of the year, the wet season from May through November sees more frequent cloud cover (both broken and overcast), while the dry season from December through April is more often clear to mostly sunny. Seasonal rainfall is divided into 'dry' and 'wet' seasons, with the latter six months of the year being wetter than the first half. Hurricane season is from June to November, but they occur more frequently in August and September. Bestiary *all images belong to their respective artists and serve as temporary placeholders Flora and Fauna Exploring Santado's botanical trails are a great way to experience its rich diversity and wildlife. Unkempt, mysterious jungles are an excellent place to observe caiman soaking in the sun and spectacular waterbirds such as the scarlet ibis in colorful flocks. The locals are known to be protective of the unique phosphorus phenomenon said to be the "stars" to the island's moon. Look for birds including pelicans, frigate and cuckoos. In the waters below, small sharks and rays are among the fish stirring up the light show. Some of Genasaris' most exotic species have found their way to this remote island. Herds of wild Arazura horses gallop across the beaches. Dragons and wyverns make homes from the dormant volcano to the dense jungles. Rare Ruhk eggs help boost the struggling economy. Burrowing wyrms are often responsible for the occasional minor earthquakes. Some of Santado's shores glisten in the sunlight as elemental stones catch the light and refract through the waters. Santado is noted for its rich and diverse vegetation. Exotic flowers thrive in the moist, tropical environment, Exalta crystals cluster in dark, wet caves. Hibiscus and orchids are just a few of the foreign flowers from abroad that have made the island its new home, adding to the vibrant colors of the island. Medicinal plants such as Korenia Root and Devil's Tongue are popular remedies to the public. Culture As an ideal island of piracy, Santado is a center for the less than civilized. A hedonist culture, Santado caters to pirates, privateers, prostitutes, thieves, and drunkards. Despite belonging to the Hyperian Empire, it remains far outside their regular government reach and considers itself a lawless community. The savage tribes of Santado are no more civilized, and it's often suggested by the locals of Matuga you explore the island with a guide if you don't want to be eaten alive. Economy An island economy is as wild and chaotic as the city of Matuga and beyond. With no set trade or means of commerce, trading is the primary language of money. Trade ships that run abreast the reefs and are torn asunder often gift the island with treasures and more. It is rumored that hundreds of years ago, a ship from the Arcane East that carried valuable dragon eggs made their way to the sands and through the dry season's bush fires gave birth to the diverse species that thrive on the island today. Those fortunate enough to find wrecked treasure may find themselves lording over the other. But they are often wary and suspicious, as privateers are a persistent and consistent presence in the city, for better or for worse. Landmarks and Monuments The City of Matuga A city of two facets, Matuga is both the best and the worst of mankind. From settlers to hired hands, the city has carved a lifestyle for itself that on some days is slow and steady – and other days chaotic and destitute. Some parts of the city are safe, but when the sun sets, the debauchery emerges and all manner of hedonism reigns. The Virgin Bride tavern A rickety shack made from the bones of wrecked ships, the Virgin Bride is the most popular tavern in Matuga. Although it consistently reeks of the ocean and the filth of the island, its clientele remain ever-faithful. It's the ideal place to recruit for a crew or to settle old scores with enemies. Learn the secrets of the island and seek adventure. Carve your name on the wall along with countless others to show your patronage. The Santado Wildlife Reserve and Conservation Perhaps the most dangerous part of the island, many of Genesaris' most feriocious dragon breeds and exotic wildlife roam and thrive here. You may tour with a guide or adventure through solo. Beware the Vilego Reef and its graveyard of ships. Scale the White Mountains, named for their snow-capped peaks and walk along the Zaddabar Crags. Survive the Conchu Jungle and the Rotting Swamp. Stalk your prey through the Jamba Plains, across Qari desert all the way to the shores of Nasto Bay and beyond. If hunting is not your forte, some species on the mainland need help thriving. Capture what you can and bring them to the Conservation center for potential breeding. Either way, your efforts will be richly rewarded. City of Matuga The Virgin Bride Tavern Santado Wildlife Reserve Government Local Government Privateer's Union: This motley council help oversee the trade routes of the island, as well as what vessels to poach from, steal, or sink. They translate and govern the dizzying number of crews as well as the loose and ever-changing ethics of the pirating world. These former captains of renown serve as intermediaries between crews on the open water and the island's citizens. More often than not, they gauge and negotiate against potential allies and threats to Santado both local and abroad. Current Union Roster: Is it you? Or maybe you? Surely it is you? Or you and you and you? Education Education on the island is sparse, but settlers from the mainland are almost always educated and share their knowledge where they can. Still, it is not always welcome due to varying opinions on who should or shouldn't be educated. Every annual visit from Hyperion is met with civility, but educational resources are often abandoned or frowned upon. Still, freedom to learn is there and the resources available if one knows where to look. There are many scientists and zoologists that work at the Wildlife Preserve who stay up to date on their research. Transportation Ships: Sailing is the most common method of transportation second to walking. From kayaks, canoes, dinghy, frigate and galleon. You're no one without a ship. With no landing strip, airships are prohibited. You come by sea, you leave by sea. Mounts: Straying from the coast and venturing further inland often requires a tamed mount. There are many to choose from; Horses, Braix and Wyverns to name a few. Notable Residence Perhaps It's You? A home on this adventurous island would be nice, no? See the Quest Center to find out how you can thrive here. History Canon Your Adventures: Make your mark in history here.
  5. 2 points

    The Reclamation & The Era of Kingdoms

    The Reclamation and the Era of Kingdoms The Reclamation is a period in Genesarian history marked by social upheaval, political and governmental revitalization, brief flashes of military conflict, and a nation-wide restructuring and redistribution of resources and wealth. It was initiated by the Southern Schism, which collapsed the Imperial South’s violent and highly unpopular xenophobic systems on the Southern Swell and Cold South, and came to an end with the formal dissolution of the Carmine Dominion. This transitional period cemented the end of the Age of Empires and brought on the beginning of the current Age of Kingdoms. Significant Events The Southern Schism refers to a series of rebellions, skirmishes, and eventually open-conflicts between Imperial Corvinite forces and various separatist factions. While the majority of these conflicts transpired in the lands between the cities of Stormward and Valjer, a number of insurgent-led attacks were later launched on Shrine City proper, to great success. Historians are unable to pinpoint any single event in particular that led to the rise in social discord, though it is universally believed that lack of presence by the imperial family served as a breeding ground for a number of new issues, while strengthening those that had long-since plagued the regime’s oftentimes brutal regime. With a great deal of the regime’s resources invested in the off-continent realm of Kadia, and nearly all of the royal family dwelling there as well, separatists and non-human sympathizers were able to brazenly protest without fear of punishment, and likewise arm themselves. Over the next several years, the Imperial South was embroiled in a state of constant unrest, marked by open rebellion. While the smaller, poorer villages and towns found themselves unable to resist loyalist rule, the more prosperous cities of the former Southern Swell declared themselves independent entities and waged bloody battles against Corvinite forces. With assistance from factions already present within the city, they were able to further destabilizing imperial control and shrink Shrine City’s sphere of influence, until the last of the loyalists were forced to flee. In the wake of the imperial excursion, regional lords rose to fill the vacuum left behind. Well-establishment noble families, who had ruled as minor lords beneath the Imperial regime, were able to rapidly expand their spheres of influence, rallying displaced refugees their cause and swiftly collecting resources. These men and women fashioned themselves as the new kings and queens of the realm, leading to a number of kingdoms rising and falling overnight as those whose wealth and positions eroded, leading to their quick usurping by more capable underlings. One of the most dramatic results of the Schism and the ensuing kingdoms it produced was, for the first time in recent history, regional control was abolished. Shrine City, which once controlled the entirety of the Cold South (and the Southern Swell during the Imperial South era), was reduced to possessing city proper, and the immediate lands surrounding it. Even the cities of the Southern Swell that had banded together to oust the Corvinite loyalists dismantled their alliance at the end of the war, instead focusing on how to better their own ends. Following the Schism, whispers of separation began circulating through the Carmine Dominion. The embers of these rumors burned hottest in the lands connecting the Great North to the Arcane East, as many of the nobles in those lands had originally opposed unification. A number of noble families had unsuccessfully waged militant campaigns against Umbral rule, and while their defeat had silenced any further discussion of rebellion, the brutality they faced was not forgotten. Separatist victory in the south renewed talks of secession, and soon tension was rising again. It is widely believed that the separatists were only successful in the south due to the imperial family’s absence, and had they been more involved, a loyalist victory was almost guaranteed. Having no investments abroad, the entirety of the Umbral host resided in the empire proper; separatists would not have the same luck as their southern counterparts. If they wished to be free of imperial rule, they would battle in council chambers, weighing the pros and cons of such a dramatic move. One boon for the separatists, however, was the absence of the emperor and empress, Rafael and Irene Bartolome. While there are few details regarding the situation, a growing many people took note of the empress' disappearance, and the deep, brooding depression that the emperor sank into in the aftermath. A number of small skirmishes erupted along the borders of the two regions, mostly between regional lords and imperial platoons deployed to the area. While the majority of these were relatively bloodless conflicts resulting in only a handful of fatalities, the battles of Yvia, Lypa, and Reddington, referred to as the Trinity Massacres, saw an escalation of Umbral brutality against separatist factions. And while a number of the individuals responsible for these unnaturally horrific battles were tried and convicted for war crimes, the reality of these battles hastened lawmakers to find a mutually beneficial solution to a seemingly endless list of issues. After a little more than a year of deliberation, the Great North was once again an independent region by way of the Lord Imperator's edict. However, it too had changed, as the nobles—unwilling to risk Coastal Grande speaking for them ever again—struck out on their own, carving out large swaths of territory for themselves. This trend trickled down throughout the remaining lands of the Dominion as other prominent families used the confusion and chaos of the separation to gather resources, military might, and prominence. However, despite its dissolution as a total empire, the Umbral regime was able to retain a significant portion of its influence and control, mostly in massive island chain of Arlais, the uninhabited northern regions closest to the Cold Mountains, and also the city of Mageside. Aftermath The dismantling of the regional control in the imperial south and carmine dominion spread to the far corners of Genesaris, shrinking the influence and involvement of the prime cities in the affairs of the region. This vacuum promoted a free-for-all power grab, with a number of prominent families ruthlessly seeking to further establish themselves. While some have managed to survive this harsher political climate, where kingdoms rise and fall overnight, many others have been crushed beneath the ambition of their neighbors. OOC: I'll be updating this thread with more information as time goes on, so be sure to keep an eye out. What's written above is essentially the story in-character for the upcoming changes to Genesaris. It is universal knowledge, so all players on the continent should be aware of it, and any characters beyond the continent's borders can be aware of the information should their writers desire it. As far as a timeline goes, there will not be a major timeskip. At most, it will be several months (4-5). To that end, it would be more accurate to state that kingdom/rulers that were fashioned from this dismantling of the Imperial South and the separation Carmine Dominion are still very young. Keep that mind if you're looking to start something up. On that note, if you would like to grab some of this "new land" and start your own kingdom or queendom, please get in touch with me via Discord or the forum's PM system. Welcome to the Era of Kingdoms.
  6. 2 points
    Saul once again found indifference in the situation. Sidebar, more fighting, and now a cat? The planes truly jested with this! Curiosity riddled him as he took in their physical and sniffed out more-than-natural quirks. What made them what, anatomically, magically, spiritually.. everything and everyone had some sort of threads that coalesced into a web of what made someone who they were. Trauma severed these threads, but sometimes reinforced them.. he could feel the interweaving of the room’s constituents. Connections and relationships and traits that would always lead to something He did not Know... Curiosity truly did kill the cat.. but this cat was cursed to chase satisfaction in the life handed back to him by dark horrors he preferred not to draw up into being or even thought. It was still too much at times, save for the breakdowns that led to him trying to etch and scratch out formulae that might deliver him to that Deep Dark Black once more.. just a touch. In his torment he had been exposed to nigh-all. Planes and demesnes that were so tangible he could feel them at the time of thought. But he would likely never get back to it without expanding his horizons.. but had it all been A fever driven fantasy? His own wishes feed back to him in Yet another cycle of torment? He could not Know without trying to find out. That was why any and all magic and occult apocrypha was to be digested. The very thing that had essentially had him tortured and killed had in fact come back around and forced him on a Curious path filled with furtive urges and compulsions (maybe a few convulsions, too!). But again, neither the time nor the place for thought of this depth. So here he was, the little sponge that he was, sucking up all that he could between the magic in the air and the informative intake he was imposing on the world around him. Two people sought to defeat one another and a growing number of spectators happily carried along watching here within his immediate vicinity. Those awfully dark eyes, pools of the dark Black he was exposed to, littered with sparks of his own Will permeating within the dark, came about full circle between the constituents of the room and the TV a few times. Was anyone seeing this!? Saul was invigorated, hands hardly fidgeting as he immersed himself in the scene. Caecelia was on the back step! Poor choice if you were facing a mutant who ran and leaped like an Olympian and a mountain lion were forcibly Blended into an athletic killing machine. Arthur was long, fast, and firm in body And mind. His forms and techniques were vetted by experience and a deep knowledge paired with a closeness to the blade itself. One could feel his tenacious energy permeate even from watching Him on a screen system. Caecelia would be butchered if she did not find an angle without risking the cleaving action of a long sword blowing through a rapier in a clinch situation. Death was not the goal, but the superior swords(wo)man would surely prevail with or without a killing blow. The facility would surely make accommodations to life threatening injuries, too; now if only she would fight back! Saul would keep his senses working in the room to remain keen but his eyes would not leave the screen as the battle picked up once more, unless addressed, of course. He had no time for jive talks of being under a woman’s grip — his Lady was To Know, and she was ever elusive..
  7. 2 points

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    @Waking_Warrior @PrettyCuteAnna Rai reached out to shake Nilan’s hand without hesitation, nodding her head encouragingly. Nilan seemed nervous somehow - she knew that some people were like that, unused to meeting someone new, but she was pleased to see that Nilan was not averse to reaching out. “So, how did you end up at the Tavern of Legend?” she asked, then shrugged. “I didn’t intend to come here myself, but I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. But fortune dictated that I should meet you here! Do you both want some drinks? It’s on me!”
  8. 2 points

    OBELUS General Discussion

    Having fiddled with the Roman numeral puzzle idea a bit a little more, and taking into account to count the lines. I got “hashup”, which by definition is eerily morbid. edit: gotta lock my phone up and clock back in but if someone wants to input and see, go for it.
  9. 2 points

    OBELUS General Discussion

    Has anyone got further with this? I looked into the name 'AVERRO' and, other than a shady looking company, I came across a philosopher who's Latinized name was Averroes. Also, isn't the Emporium somewhere in Genesaris? I'm assuming so since these are Mezthaluen Tabloids - and since the setting is Genersaris, apparently. I brought this up because if this lad was last seen there, should we be checking in that area for some clues/hints?
  10. 2 points
    Im..um..a tad bit late but I’d like to properly say hello and thank you for the permission to join this rp community! I’ve browsed a few places and so far you guys(and gals lol) are actually pretty dope I mostly rp a dark character that’s well the foundation of all that is fundamentally dark. He’s definitely not a run or the mill over the top character I’ve rped as him for almost 10+ years and I have developed him extensively. But I do have another character that I am looking to use if anyone is interested his name is Bane. He is a large and powerful lycanthrope that has the ability to change into a white werewolf. He wields a massive ax and his secondary weapon is a large chain with an iron ball on the end. However I have no rp to use him in so if anyone has any ideas then feel free to let me know...thanks and it’s nice to meet everyone!
  11. 1 point
    saga juliet

    LotE: Echoes of Byrn

    –( I )– Roland The island fled north across the surface of the world, harried every mile by men on the backs of wyverns, pursued almost to the limits of the wide plains of Isore. Ballista-bolts were fired from the ramparts of the castle-island in answer. Every so often, one dark shadow would fall, struck, down through the clouds, and it would not find replacement. After a week of such trades, the cloud of midges dispersed, finding no fruit on the hard walls of Valley. Lily spent her time beside the barred window thus occupied, among other mild entertainments, as days stretched into a week outside her locked door. She observed the wyverns again, just as she had with Isore, and witnessed a victory now instead of defeat; she thought again of Isore, and dreamed of it, and found herself buried in her bed, paralyzed by the fear she had felt in that city as faces surfaced and, before they could say a word, were broken and scorched to death; she thought of Madon, and where he must be now, whether he had survived - she was certain he had, for he was impervious, he had to be - and whether he would continue to do so through the tumultuous times that would come. Occasionally, she drew herself games of solitaire and wondered if a deck of cards could cut a wizard’s throat. This was hardly in earnest. She’d never raised her hands in violence. Especially now. She didn’t try to pick the lock, or bash on the door, or wail for her freedom. Truth be told, all the things she had dreamed of had not come true. The coming of the apocalypse was not glory. She had never seen someone die. It was a city of a hundred thousand. So it was safer in here, sheltered in a hidden room clinging to the underbelly of Valley, and in her inaction she could pretend that she could live out the rest of her days. On the windowsill was a long pot, in which grew tomatoes and basil. She tended to it religiously. Life, at her hands. She spent long hours looking at the sheen of the tomatoes, touching their bright, taut skin that burst forth, a miniature bounty of the earth. Lily read, too. Read all the books that Jack was willing to fetch her from the library. None of the history that she once read, all the bloody half-truths written by bygone conquerors and survivors. She knew all of those by heart, now. Now it was romances and folktales. Children think them childish but now she realized they were a codification of the dreams of happy endings for long-lost people whose only other alternative was to live and then to die. Even life eternal was no good in this sort of world. There was a desk in the room, on which her journal lay open. She had not written anything in it beyond a week, except two questions in neat scrawl atop two blank pages, space for reflection that had not come: Did I make a mistake? What was it? Whatever had compelled her to go so far as to write those two questions had compelled her no further. She felt that things were wrong, somehow, and she knew of many things that were wrong. That was the nature of the world. But her? Something was wrong with her, too. Something had gone wrong. Involving herself in this crisis inevitable?Whether or not she had come, Isore would still be burning. And the Valley would have burned next. That chain of events, so simple and easily followed, as if a child’s math problem. That unsettled her so much that she made herself tea. It was true, wasn’t it, that she had never made a choice at all, that it would have come for her regardless. Then? Where was the mistake? Becoming separated? Being detained? Losing the Dragonstone? That was all against her will. Everything that had happened, was against her will. That was the fact of it. Where was the mistake? A knock came at the door. Lily lay on her back, looking at the ceiling. She remained quiet. A few seconds later, it clicked open. An old man postured at the threshold. He eyed her pitifully. “May I?” Lily closed her eyes. The man stepped into the room. Although he was easily a hundred, he had the look of a man barely breaching fifty. He stepped to the desk, looked over the two pages disinterestedly, then pulled out the chair. He spent a long time getting comfortable. He inspected the pencils in the cup, taking them out and twisting them in his hands. He reached to flip back a page in the journal. “Don’t you dare.” “Ah.” The man retracted, rested his hands on his lap. “The little miss speaks.” His name was Dawnwulf, but that must have been a moniker – for sorcerers never give out their own names. One of the Seven Wizards of Valley, a vast human repository of knowledge, former Exarch of Isore - Madon’s alleged grandfather, in truth far older than that - and warden for her prison. He looked out the window for a little while longer. Lily fell back into silence, pretending to sleep. Both of them pretending some semblance of domestic peace. “The world’s going to hell,” the man rumbled. “I mean, everyone thinks so. I bet that grandson of mine thinks that it is.” He laughed as Lily opened his eyes. “Interested? Do you fancy him?” “Maybe.” She remembered the fervor with which he had protected her. Not many people with that sort of devotion. It left an impression, was her guarded way of saying it. “Sure he is, girl. But to the point. You know what’s he off to now? Courting the support of the Glians. They’re going to get together, and then the four great countries are going to smash all their people together and it’ll be the most blood we’ve seen in about three hundred years. Those fellows are all thinking it: the world’s going to hell. They don’t know the half of it.” Dawnwulf spun a pencil between his fingers, amusing himself. “But we do, don’t we?” “What do you want?” “Missy, the other wizards and I have come to a conclusion. You know what they tell me to do first? Flatter the little girl, as if that’ll have her take more kindly to us. Will it?” “No. But I want to hear it anyway, before you try to rake me over with more bullshit.” “Sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.” Dawnwulf cleared his throat, reached inside his jacket. He produced a small gem in the likeness of a dragon’s claw. Lily recognized it as the Valley dragonstone. It had been separated from the head to which it had fused in Isore - somehow. She looked at the man, narrowed her eyes. “What is this?” “You’re a very perceptive little girl. Your future-sight is probably unmatched in all of Erasmia. You’ve made a lot of trouble for us as a result, and you, a girl hardly a woman, have bumbled yourself into bigger trouble than you should have dreamed of. And still you’re alive.” “No,” Lily said quietly. “I’m not...” Dawnwulf didn’t pause. “We decided that you’d make a formidable ally in this war. Not the war that everyone else is fighting, that’s all prelude. This one’s for the future. This one’s about saving Erasmia.” “I can’t do that. You’re trying to get something from me. I can’t...I can’t do anything about whatever troubles you’re talking about. I can’t go out there again.” The man took her hand. Lily tried to push him away, but he pressed the stone into her hand insistently. “Lily. Listen. I know that Isore must have been difficult for someone like you. Things are horrible out there. People have died for a long time. But this time, nobody will die. That’s a promise I have on good authority. We’re not in the business of ending lives, we’re going to save them.” The girl clutched the dragonstone. She took a deep breath. “What is it?” “Do you know the extent of what’s going on out there? The dragonstone is awakening. The higher-ups in Byrn are assembling their own fragments. The Dragon Cult, they call it. It goes without saying that that cannot come to pass.” “Yeah.” She swallowed. “Yes, I sensed something like that. In a dream. So many of the fragments had clustered heartbeats.” “Exactly. We’ve been in contact with a splinter group, who are subverting the leadership at every opportunity. You must assist them and reacquire as many of these shards as possible. Once we have them, we will find the rest and destroy them.” Dawnwulf’s voice softened. “They’ll protect you. You don’t have to do anything that you have not done before. But help these people, and we can avert disaster.” “I guess I don’t have a choice.” “No, you don’t. The man who’ll guide you away is waiting in his own room on the first floor. Scout’s name is Roland. He snuck a wyvern overnight.” “How long do I get?” “Only as long as you need.” She folded her journal in two, and placed it inside her bag. She strung the dragonstone piece around her neck, then took one last look at the room. She shook her head. There really was nothing left for her here.
  12. 1 point

    LotE: All Roads Lead to Glia

    The assassin's screams of pain faded into disbelieving silence. How? How was he dying?! There was not a man in the room... unless, his opponent... it was either that, or the enchantment had been dispelled. But it couldn't have been, he still felt its protective power around him! Mustering strength, he laughed for a moment. "You... you hypocrite..." He fell silent again. His strength was fading at a faster and faster pace. There was nothing to do but await death. Or was there? Even with blackness creeping in at the edges of his vision, his gaze fell upon his crossbow, abandoned, within reach. One bolt loaded, aimed in Olivia's direction... all he needed was a moment to raise it slightly and fire, one last shot to finish the job. Gathering the last of his strength, he lurched forward- And a high-heeled shoe slammed into his outstretched hand, producing a loud crunch from the bones within. Anselm stood above the assassin, with an angry gaze. She grinned maliciously as wind energy began to swirl about her hand. "Your undoing? You should have killed me first, instead of hoping I'd stay drugged and leaving my death to your accomplice. Never leave to others what you can do for yourself, and may that lesson be burnt into you in the fiery depths of where you're undoubtedly going." She thrust her hand forward, and a small tornado ripped the assassin from the ground and went along the length of Olivia's quarter, before it rapidly ascended into the air and burst through one of the windows with the dying assassin. Shards of glass were pulled in by the tornado as it began a rapid descent to the ground below... fifty stories down. He didn't even have the strength to scream any further. Anselm turned back towards the others as the sounds faded away. "Olivia should end up fine, relatively. Her resilience outstrips my own, and compares favorably to Severa's. Nevertheless, we'll remain here until Amber is through healing her." A heavy gaze fell on Crystal as Anselm turned once again. "You and I, Crystal... there is much we must discuss, once we return to my quarters."
  13. 1 point

    Rise of Saint Reverie

    “Lady, I'm not sure it's safe to be sitting out here rocking in your chair. It is dangerous, you know.” [Lorial] For a moment, following Lorial's warning, there was nothing but the thin shriek of wind to fill the silence. A rattling of wood and a snapping of a curtain somewhere in the distance followed. Saint Reverie turned to face the voice, a small smile forming. Despite having lost use of her eyes, Reverie hadn't exactly lost her sight. It was, simply, a different kind of sight. In the darkness that surrounded her, the Creator used her other senses to allow her to see even more than she would have with her eyes. In response to Lorial, Reverie nodded. "It does seem that way does it not?" Although gentle, her voice would also seem rather young; not yet out of her teen years. Perhaps a young adult. Reverie stood from the porch chair and made her way down to Lorial, as if knowing exactly where the hybrid was. "But there are forces we cannot see. That we do not know, whom protect those that are meant to live." She stopped a few feet from Lorial, facing her. "And it is not our time. Not yet." "Which I suppose brings us to the most pertinent question: Why? Both in motive, and to what end. The words seeded through the land are vague in their ambition. Hope for who? Hope for what? Ack, introductions! Kiriot. Formerly a humble servant of Cancer, Hunter of Hunters." [Kiriot] "It is a pleasure, Hunter of Hunters," Reverie responded with a nod in his direction. What she felt from Kiriot was much different from Lorial. A different species altogether. Or was Lorial the strange on? Reverie faced Lorial again, tilting her head at near unperceivable degree. Then she smiled. It was Lorial. Two different life energies swirled within her. Almost like water and fire. "It is hard to say what the end will be." She shrugged, a rather ungraceful action when compared with her previous movements. Then, she moved back to her chair. Waiting. As if in order to find what she needed, the spot where the chair rocked and creaked was the beacon. Reverie smiled. "As for motive, well, I suppose we will see. My summons, however, are as were told. Our destination will be the edge of Nu Martyr's eastern isles." Another hero appeared at that moment. Followed by a woman. The woman caused Reverie's eyebrow to raise under her metallic band. Positive and negative energies swirled around her in a haphazardly fashion. Interesting. "Who are you?" he asked roughly, eyes narrow. "What are you?" [Hain] "The name's Ravenbush. Pleasure to meet ya." [Maiden] Despite the disjointed dialogues, Reverie kept silent until they were finished until the female had finished speaking. Then Reverie grinned, her lips spreading happily much larger than her small smile from before. "I am Reverie," she said simply. "Under the Creator's Divine Will, the four of you responded to the call. Step by step, we shall head to Nu Martyr's eastern isles. Much evil roams this land. Some hope must be breathed back into the people, lest what remains, perishes." Without waiting for the others to introduce themselves more or make acquaintance with each other, Reverie stood and started to head into the forest. Although she'd summoned them to guard her, the real reason for their presence for how they would help others. The Creator would guard her if He so desired. "Watch out for beasts," she said. "Since the fall of civilization in the province, many bear and dragon like creatures have started to wander this forest."
  14. 1 point

    A matter of amenities ooc

    Or otherwise just assume it's in progress while easing back to focus on some character interaction to cap things off, presumably
  15. 1 point

    OBELUS General Discussion

    I would remind everyone that V - the typo in count - is the roman numeral V, meaning 5. And as previously established, 5 is the number that reoccurs in the binary conversion. This would suggest that characters 5 and 6 derive from the same source, I think. Seemingly line 5 of... something, though as mentioned the text of the post itself doesn't easily fit that.
  16. 1 point
    Condition: be bathing a beefly, trying to shave a beefly, accidentally roll a 1-5 on your roll and accidentally seduce an imanimate object Theres your 3 Cure: find a rainbow beefly and befriend it
  17. 1 point
    Updated the lists again. Added several new conditions and cures. Also added landshark and teletype to the list of "other" werecurses. I have two open slots there remaining, so if anyone wants to offer suggestions before I come up with something myself (gonna cap it at 20 so it stays within Val's Dice limits). So we still need: 2 other curses 56 transformation conditions 79 cure rituals I also added a note for anyone who wants to do generations now that states that any rolls that land outside of the current lists will result in "full moon" conditions and "death" (aka, incurable) cure.
  18. 1 point

    OBELUS General Discussion

    Okay, this is the last time I'll spam but I'm excited now. I ran the numbers (1-21 2-11 3-21 4-32 5-22 5-43) in a Beale decoder and got the text of 'scterr'. I unscrambled those letters and the only "real word" I got from it is "CREST". The only thing is, crest is a five-letter word.
  19. 1 point

    Im back I guess?

    Thanks Jaist! Late reply is late.
  20. 1 point

    OBELUS General Discussion

    Obby tagged me (and everyone who's recently posted in this thread, I think) in his latest post Nothing hidden in the source code though the typos seem relevant. Going to sleep in a bit so I'll leave this to you guys to figure out.
  21. 1 point
    @Twitterpated It wasn’t often that Dauner got to fight a cyborgy opponent and so the thrill was something he welcomed with opened arms. Bishop walked towards Dauner and made a comment about him being tiny. “I am? Ha ha ha ha. I guess I am” he laughed scratching he back of his head. “I’m Dauner A. Light. Nice meeting you. I am feeling excited to fight you today, so may the best man win. And…" he paused and tried to remember what came next. "I don’t really remember what comes next. Gozen said it would make me sound more polite. Any ways, let us get to fighting. And I’m gonna win!” he said with a wide grin on his face. He then drew his right sword just moments before Bishop launched himself at him. As Bishop’s leg drove towards Dauner, so too did Dauner’s body ride backwards avoiding the stomp. During this backward movement, Dauner drew his left sword before stopping to take the incoming fist. He used his left sword to parry the punch shifting Bishop’s weight away from him as he move his body in the opposite direction to make sure he completely dodged it. Then he launched his right sword at Bishop aiming for a diagonal slash across the midsection from the lower left to the upper right, while at the same time, lowering his left sword so it could handle any action that Bishop would undertake with the rest of his available limbs.
  22. 1 point

    Argentspire Expedition Hub OOC

    I am back-ish on Valucre. Will likely post for this later or tomorrow!
  23. 1 point
    The links have brought themselves!
  24. 1 point
    @Jotnotes @Mickey Flash Either is fine
  25. 1 point

    Werewolves in Genesaris !!!

    8 ( #witchlivesmatter
  26. 1 point

    For Your Own Good [Illyria]

    "Me? In trouble? I hope not? Coupled with my armor...it shouldn't be a problem. I hope I don't have to fight someone that puts me in that stage..." Arashi said, sighing. Her saying was just foreshadowing what was to come in the near future whether she liked it or not. The events in the future were beyond her control. At least...she thought she'd survive everything in decent health until that happened after all. "If I don't train myself...many people will die cause I'd be too weak to save them. Speaking of which...uhm...you do have that kid here right? Do you mind if I talk to her...? Ana, I think was her name." Arashi asked the woman politely. Of course Ana hadn't seen Arashi without her armor on, but she might recognize the voice. Arashi was the one that saved her from death.
  27. 1 point

    LotE: All Roads Lead to Glia

    After Olivia had departed, Wymp retrieved Arbalest from the table, and then turned toward Madon as he secured the crossbow on his back once more. "Madon. Be frank with me, which of those demands do you honestly think Olivia will agree to?" The Exarch didn't respond for a few moments, instead savoring a cup of the tea that had been laid out before them. Then, he set down the cup and spoke. "Orsola's demand? That one isn't too unlikely to be accepted. A request for reconsideration of the matter of the Dragon Emblem shards if things seem to be going very wrong? Not very much commitment involved there. As for my own... the request to be pointed to where we can best help will be an easy yes. Save Glian manpower-" He paused and chuckled for a moment. "-for other operations, use my force to further Glia's goals. Dragonslaying weapons? Could go either way on the custom forges, and it's more likely any legendary weapons withing Glia will be handed to the upper ranks of theirs over us. As for the last two, the pledge of restoration and searching for Lily... we'll see. I'd speculate the latter will be denied, while the former is a touchy matter that will likely require further negotiation." Wymp nodded in acquiescence. "Well, as long as you've thought this through, my liege. God willing, we can get what we want and what we need both, with minimal fuss." As the Exarch and his right hand chatted, Orsola stared at Levitica. The so-called Custodian... something about her held the attention of the Exarch of the future. Like there was something about her that was more than met the eye. After a bit, she turned away and shook her head. Perhaps it was nothing. Anselm turned an indignant gaze turned Amber and Crystal for a moment. "Ladies, forgive my bluntness, but unless this assassin is totally impervious to harm or something... if myself, quite possibly the most powerful mage on Erasmia, can do nothing against this assassin, then your friend certainly is doing nothing but walking into their certain death." ----- When Olivia returned to her quarters, she would find herself not alone, as she had expected herself to be. Anselm sat at one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace, turned to face not towards the flames, but out towards the wider area of the room. Oddly out of place, for was she not supposed to be attending to the some of the companions in the Exarch down in her own quarters on the 13th floor? Before she could vocalize such a thought, Anselm snapped her fingers. Doors slammed shut and locked, windows clamped down and curtains drawn over them. Every entrance sealed, except she did not hear the sound of the concealed servants' entrance closing. A potential escape route, but would take more time to open then there was if the situation was truly as it seemed. Only the light of the licking flames in the fireplace illuminated the room now. And even in that dimmer light, it became even more obvious that there was something wrong. The eyes... those weren't Anselm's grey eyes, the cloudy but calm color of clouds that would darken to become the clouds of a storm when roused to anger. These were an icy blue. A cold, sharp, and almost lifeless gaze. The eyes of an assassin. This would further be signified by the loaded crossbow that "Anselm" had laid against their lap. Which they rose in a swift aim, and fired at Olivia. Instinct brought her to swiftly sidestep the bolt, which embedded itself into the far wall. The assassin growled annoyedly, and began to load another bolt. As they did so, Olivia called upon her power. A mighty spell of Light and Goodness, one that should purge this dark imposter. An incantation whispered, remembered from that heavy tome. Light suffused the room, as if the roof above was clouds parting to let in the light of the heavens. A wide beam of light shined on the assassin, and they shielded their eyes as they scanned for the source. The beam narrowed significantly, focusing on the assassin's heart. A large sparkle of light descended the beam, and on contact with the assassin... light burst in an interweaving pattern all around the assassin, the great power engulfing then and assuredly smiting them down. When the light faded... the assassin stood there, completely unscathed. They chuckled darkly, a deep, masculine tone. "Oh? What, was that supposed to kill me or something? Now, Princess... you insult me. I wouldn't come to you unprepared!" With that, he drew a dagger and lunged forward with a dagger drawn from the folds of the dress he wore. Olivia rolled behind a table, the odd, powerful-looking knife biting into the wood. The two began a merry chase around the room, Olivia using the furniture to block attacks and throwing them forward to knock the assassin off balance. All thoughts of spellcasting forgotten, no weapons on hand to retaliate martially, if that would even have done anything. The assassin, constantly lunging forward with his dagger like a persistent snake, the loaded crossbow in his other other hand awaiting the perfect shot. Though the assassin was knocked to the ground once, and pinned there with a knocked over table, he managed to extricate himself. The chase eventually ended with the assassin's dagger thrown and catching Olivia's collar, pinning her to the wall behind her. The assassin's crossbow fired but a moment later, the bolt striking true and sinking deep into her right lung. The assassin dropped the crossbow, his expression savoring an incoming kill as he drew forth a concealed scimitar and advanced toward Olivia. A bookshelf along the northern wall moved backwards under its own seeming power, and it, along with an accompanying section of wall, slid behind the other bookshelves, out of sight, to reveal a concealed entrance into the room. The real Anselm, the Saintess, rushed into the room, followed by the guests she had been supposed to be attending to. She froze, however, the moment she caught sight of the assassin, and the wound that Olivia had taken.
  28. 1 point
    Sounds like a certain Scooby Doo movie I used to watch growing up. 😏 Adding!
  29. 1 point
    Arthur's facial features pulled into a joyful yet barbarous smirk as his blade sang through the air before clanging violently against Caecelia's rapier. He loved that sound so much. The expression upon the mage's face seemed to range between a dog chasing a ball or a hunting cat pouncing on its prey with no clear indication where on the spectrum Arthur lay. Eager sportsman or vigorous destroyer! In any case, the mutant gave chase and countered as soon as his opponent began their retreat. Arthur burst into action, pulling his sword away from Caecelia's parry as he unwound his arms in a second zwerchau. This time, Bogatyr's blade whirled counter-clockwise and cut from right to left in a horizontal arc, while Arthur's arms moved from right to left Ochs. Meanwhile, the mutant had no intention of allowing Caecelia to escape, taking a long stride with his rear leg (left) forward and slanted to the left. He advanced on the heiress, using his long legs to keep pace with the woman while staying past her rapier's point (preventing Caecelia from realigning in with the mage's body), but he was also charging offline at his opponent. The distinction was huge as it allowed Arthur to fight in the narrow confines of the training tunnel, and also exploit one of the heiress' own errors. She had much to learn and class was in session as far as the mutant was concerned. When Caecelia stepped back on her own left leg, she had turned Arthur's charge into an inevitability as she no longer had her main gauche in position to threaten the black mage's livelihood. The mage's dashing step towards the left only put the woman's dagger that much further away, but it also moved the mutant closer to the left side (her right) of the tunnel which gave Arthur that much more room to cut a zwerchau on the right side of the narrow compartment. His opponent had suspected that she'd be safer in the more narrow compartments of their arena, likely assuming that the mage would barely have space to get his cut off. She wasn't wholly incorrect. The space to throw a zwerchau was getting much tighter, not impossible but his sword would be whirling precariously close to the wall with each swipe. Her thoughts only considered Arthur's sword and his hands, however. A swordsman also had feet and he could use them to gain extra maneuvering room for wide cuts and to cut at very different and unsuspecting angles. As Arthur whirled his blade overhead, the blackened blade straightened out as opposed to angling downwards for a lower cut, aiming to strike for Caecelia's face. If he had advanced in a straight path, the sword would have slashed overtop the heiress' left shoulder on the way to her head. However, as he stepped offline to Caecelia's right flank, the mutant's black blade seemed to bypass that side of the woman entirely as it aimed to soar above her own sword and towards her face in a clothesline-like cut of Bogatyr. His first zwerchau had left the woman in disarray, unable to reply with an attack of her own. Arthur had Caecelia on the backfoot. He wanted to keep her on the retreat, forcing her to keep her guard up against increasingly stronger attacks. "Don't die now!" Arthur urged with an obsessive and wolfish stare, his intense presence echoing the absolute pride and confidence of one seeking to prove they were the greatest warrior. The mutant's smirk showing off a set of monstrous teeth that hadn't been there before as he added, "Protect your head, so we can keep fighting!" @The Alexandrian
  30. 1 point
    The Alexandrian

    OBELUS General Discussion

    Could the cipher be related to this? I'm not certain how the numbers following the dashes would fit, in such a case.
  31. 1 point

    Touching the Sound of Silence

    One cannot help but listen and learn, watch and take in. Ornate faces shift expressions to the benefit of attitudes breaking from the caverns carved into them. An aptitude for elusiveness is exposed as one simply curves and turns. Spins and dips and shuffles boots, to escape the quickly knitting crowd. Too close, too close. While the strangers break fast this vulture, hawk of eyes, circles slowly. Still shaking the cup that sees it's contents melting as quickly as time roves on. The condensation of which trickles against a pallor complexion of slender phalanges. It's opposite so forlorn in its empty state finds passage aboard a leather strap to help still the bag nestled against one's hip. Careful now, don't want to break anything. Again the same voice drowns out those of others. Seething with friendliness and endless opportunity. One can only surmise the weight of this being’s excitement. It’s edgy and catching and now has this particular being wanting to keep up with the search party. That is until boarded and Boron is stripping and sculpting his frame into one resembling a pirate. It never seems to go out of style. No matter the years gone by. Thankfully as people board and wander and move about, one finds themselves directed toward their personal space. More than likely shared by any number of others. Swinging hammocks of burlap and canvas. Ahh the olds days filter in, memories. Picking a high one is the best route, if correctly recalled. Waking up to the curvy sway of a covered buttocks in the middle of the night nearly as bad as getting the full moon caught in one’s view. Belongings are tossed into it ever so gently and a carrot is magicked from a coat pocket. Carefully poked into the edge of the flapped bag before being intruded upon. Boron, again. An aura of unpredictable nature and entreaty. Having turned to engage the noise all that is left in one’s defense is the large bulb of the orange root vegetable and a melty milkshake. One simply sticks the carrot into Boron’s open mouth and the the drink leftovers into his hands then slips away. Silence! Potentially buying one more time to procure a thorough list of answers. Now to investigate the place solo-mode.
  32. 1 point
    Mackenzie Rose

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    "That depends." 'V' would pause for a moment, resting her arms upwards with the fingers locked together. "What do you have to offer?" @Hawk
  33. 1 point
    Acies ab Vesania

    Notable movie you’ve seen YTD?

    I saw both 1917 and Parasite this month. Parasite just the other day actually. 1917 was really good. The camera use was a novel perspective and there were a few particular scenes with the cinematography that absolutely wowed me in the theaters. I pretty much pegged then it was going to at least win the Oscar for Best Cinematography (and spoiler--it did). It was a thrilling movie, fun to watch, definitely gets your pulse ticking. It was a great allegory of a person's journey through life and how they change--only his occurred over about 12 hours. Parasite is in all honesty a masterpiece. Absolutely hilarious in some parts, both in the absurdity in some situations and just plain humor. There were times I felt uncomfortable--but in a good way, because I was uncomfortable with what the characters were doing and the situation they were in. The tone of the movie was both all over the place and focused at times... this can be a flaw, but the way the director handled it made it clearly intentional and really well executed. The movie itself is a sucker-punch of an allegory of social inequality and it throws some heavy hitting thoughts at you. But what really made the movie stand out to me is that it is one of the few that had me unintentionally revisiting it in my thoughts all weekend, often intrusively. Like needed to think on it more, mull over it, and discovered some more thoughts and tricks. It's the kind of movie that makes me want to go watch it several more times to really dig down. I feel it actually deserved to win the best picture Oscar. On the Oscar track of things, I saw Once Upon a Time in Hollywood last year (December). Great movie, one of the best I saw that year. Really amazed by the performances and the recreation of the time. It felt both like a Love Letter to old Hollywood and a subtle examination of the things wrong with it then (and still now, to be fair). Really enjoyed it.
  34. 1 point

    Describe your character in six words

    Ooooh I wanna try >:^D Bony White Dude Snitches On Everyone Sexy Redhead Has Intense Blood Kink Teen Vigilante Too Angry To Die Demonic Bartender Goes To Church, Combusts Undead Doctor Has No Medical License Sexually Frustrated Surgeon Eats His Cigarettes Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew Ew Lovely Glass Boy Turns Into Schizophrenic Pure Witch Traumatized By Dirty Joke
  35. 1 point
    Kurush blinked at the face that met his, taken aback by so many scars. Then, he looked past all the scar tissue, and realised what he saw was simply(?) a woman, and one who... had an effect on him? He felt nice, but it didn't feel like a crush. More like the headache he might have developed from the knock was just... gone, before it even truly developed. "Just... fine..." He muttered to himself, trying to make sense of it. It seemed like it had started with her whistling, so maybe...? His train of thought stopped, when he realised that he recognised the next voice. His head turned, realising it to be none other than, "Khaki?" No sooner than had he realised this, the first woman suddenly called him, and one must quote, 'this shit', which removed much of the regard he might have had for her a moment before. Incensed into standing, the young man hopped to his feet, and quickly took a few steps back, which allowed him to realise that there was actually a third to their number. ...was Khaki in a cult, or something? "Is this a cult, or something?" Kurush spoke his mind rather frankly, a sense which only grew when the apparent leader of this group made mention of an 'artefact' that the image coming off some rich sap's his gemstone. He clasped his hand over it, blocking the image from sight within his palm. "Well that sounds fun, but I best be going, so-urgh!" He tried to go left, only to be yanked back by a sudden grabbing of his arm. Something... kicked in at that point, twice there being such an intrusion into his private space. Even as his body lurched back from the grip upon his jacket, his arm pulled forward, lurching in ways that should have been far more uncomfortable than any simple knock to the head, to slip from the sleeve as he himself spun out from his own apparel, until each of them was holding a single sleeve of the well worn attire. "Lady, I don't know what your problem is," Kurush snarled at her, with visible fangs, "But I'm not some 'dragonboy'. If you're wanting to be so touchy-feely, at least call me Kurush! Now let go of my coat!" It was clear that without it, there wasn't much that made him look appropriately decent. His 'shirt' was clearly meant for a man several sizes larger, leaving it to hang mostly on the young man's lower torso, even with bountiful excess tucked into his trousers. ...Then, something, clicked. "Hey, you!" He called out to the woman who looked sorta like Khaki, but a noticeable degree older. "You said something about an 'artefact' right? That this was connected to?" He asked, with the chain of the necklace now wrapped around his fingers, the image of the sword shining upon several of the others as the gem itself spun with its slight momentum. "You paying for this sort of thing, or...?"
  36. 1 point
    A crash. The rasp of metal drawn across metal. Caeceila felt Arthur's longsword withdraw from the stout cruciform hilt and finely wrought blade of her main gauche. The Heiress sought to restrict and premeditate Arthur's movements, to control his plays and guide his hand to ruination. She searched for tells: for an overconfident curl of the lips, for a displacement of his center, for his savage gaze to betray his target. Reading him challenged her perceptiveness and amateur grasp of psychology, for the mutant seemed, to her, more animal than man. As she appraised Bogatyr, that wicked blade of meteoric iron so inimical to light and life, Caeceila confirmed her hunches apropos Arthur's ascendancy. Arthur scaled the ladder without substantial resistance because he is a weapon forged for battle but not necessarily warfare. On a battlefield, where leadership, tactics, and valor in arms are tested, Caeceila might outperform Arthur. In battle, she is a tactician, first and foremost; she purchases her strength with malice aforethought. In a combat arena and under the auspices of the Order of Force Majeure, which would intervene at the first sign of escalation, she could not match Arthur Uskglass's swordsmanship, at least not blow for blow. Stripped of her augmented weaponry and actively repressing her heritage, she could not rely on her bag of tricks, and she was compelled to think within the box, a box she, admittedly, had never bothered to inventory. To her detriment, Caeceila had never experimented with a rapier in bona fide combat. As Arthur's longsword whirls around and his arms begin to wind, Caeceila defensively transitions to High Second Guard. She anticipated Arthur would follow up his thrust by cutting at her, and a zwerchau provided a quick and effective means for him to move from a thrust to a cut. Her palm rotated roughly ninety degrees counterclockwise, and her arm remained extended in front of her, With her trailing leg, Caeceila stepped back. Her timing was such that she would intercept the zwerchau with the strong of her blade and thereby ward off Arthur's attack before continuing to fly away, her leading leg retreating a distance commensurate with the movement of her trailing leg. This action has three notable consequences. First, Caeceila avoids Arthur's zwerchau. Second, Caeceila moves into a corridor that is only six feet wide. Third, Caeceila is free to reposition her blade and attempts such action with great urgency after she has halted Arthur's zwerchau, returning to an on-line position. Her turn, then, is spent recovering from the first exchange, offering little in the way of offense save the threat a blade and its wielder might inherently present. Caeceila did not identify a good opportunity to strike at Arthur for he seemed devoted to protecting his high openings. Caeceila, however, had complicated Arthur's ability to cut at her horizontally by retreating into a corridor. Internally, Caeceila questioned whether Arthur would switch to a different guard before advancing into such a confined space. Curiosity killed the cat, did it? Curiosity has it out for cats, to be sure, but its aim is unsteady and its sight has degraded with age. Even in its youth, Curiosity, the purblind oaf, was no match for the cat that slunk up the stairs and took stock of the scene laid out before her. Her silky, alabaster fur is partitioned by ebony stripes. Her grooming is immaculate; she glitters like silver dust swept through a glassy stream though her neck is adorned with lustrous gold and precious gems. The fine-spun linen draped about her body, fitted to her sleek form, boasts intricate embroidery depicting the Eye of Ra - the genesis of the ferocious Sekhmet and the Elder God Bast/Bastet. Dazzling pink eyes cross the chamber once and again, dazzling pink eyes all too familiar to Xartia and Isabella, before a toothsome grin, as much as a tiger can muster with a mouth full of avian flesh, and the associated mass, and massive it is, glide to Isabella's side. Once she arrives, Camelia drops her kill on the floor beside Isabella. It lands with a thud, its slender neck contorting at most unnatural angles as several hollow bones, fractured when Camelia claimed it, crack audibly upon impact with the polished floor. Blood oozes from its gossamer wings. Its beak is half-gone, mournfully broken, and its lifeless, hollow eyes stare at nothing the living can perceive. The black swan lies motionless as Camelia moves to bunt Isabella and rouse her from her gory reverie. Hi, ya sleepyhead! The role Cammy chose to play this fateful morning ought to be believable enough. Xartia knows Cammy as an affable catgirl who likes to sing and dance and amuse herself with innocent hobbies. She has given him no reason to distrust her, aside from doing little to conceal the harsh reality of her childhood on the streets of Tia. He knows nothing of the missing, the torture, the madness, the sadness, or the abhorrent rituals she performed, in the dead of night, upon unwilling victims. He knows nothing of the Dreamlands or the cult and exceedingly little of the cannibalistic feasts and the heretical chants intoned at the crest of the Dead Peaks. He might distrust her for personal reasons, but by her reckoning, he could not solve the puzzle the black swan presented. Then again, Xartia is a bird of a feather. Perhaps next time it would be his mangled body sprawled across the floor. It was for her, and her alone, the sacrifice was prepared. As if to emphasize this point, black plumage had spilled from the edges of Cammy's mouth when she had spoken. Now, her mouth was free of detritus, and she could continue her game. A word to the wise: you can't bind a demon if you can't pronounce its name. That demon's name is pronounced Kae-s-ilyah. It's an odd name and an irrelevant factoid. It might suffice to throw people off, to plant a seed of doubt. Cammy is a flighty catgirl. Believe that, and her strategy is working as intended. You work fast, Isabella. I count no less than three men you've expertly wrapped around your little finger. I wonder how many you'll have collected by this afternoon. Nine? Ten? Nah, let's go with Nine, the naughtiest number of them all. Isabella would know. By now, Isabella had to know. Therefore, Cammy moved over to Xartia and stared up at him, a bundle of sonorous affection, pretending to ignore Duncan and Saul since she could not predict how they would react were there reprisal for her games. Then, Cammy leans forward whispers conspiratorially to Xartia. I think I might have embarrassed her. I'm trying to practice flirting since I'm no good at it. That's how you flirt, right? She just flirted with you, and my flirting has to be at least that good if I'm going to impress Ilyana!
  37. 1 point

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    • • • Surrounded by a gaggle of slightly intoxicated, merry-making humans twirls a wheat-colored lady mouse, playing a carved lute from strong oak. It's an heirloom from her great grandmother, a most prized possession, and so when her adoring audience dares to reach out for the instrument once or twice, she playfully smacks their fingers in wordless reproach. Clove is the life of the party, and she would not have it any other way. She finishes her latest jig with a flourish of her hands and a high, triumphant note that rings out in the air, punctuated by scattered applause from the group gathered around her. As she makes small talk with a particularly starry-eyed boy, some voices reach her ears, and so she looks over her shoulder at the people who have taken notice of her. Why, they are talking about her! She might normally feel flattered, but then again: they had referred to her as a rodent, which is quite insulting. Mousefolk are far more dignified than those lesser creatures, thank you very much. Nevertheless, Clove turns her head towards them and smiles politely, watching the man leave before turning her eye to the woman. "Aye? You need somethin'?" @Phoebe @Hawk
  38. 1 point
    Mickey Flash

    The Tide Calls (The Heist)

    The sight of the ship was something else. Shalana could see the barnacles clinging to the side, and the tentacles encompassing it from the prow. There were ruins all over it, deep and vast; the amount of magic it must take to get a dead and broken ship to sail. And the crew looked dead on their feet... literally. She saw a barnacle growing out of the side of one of the poor creature's neck. She shivered. What the fuck had she gotten herself into. Everyone was marching after M'yr, who was marching on the ship. Shalana thought about turning around. She was used to dark things, and she saw the beauty in them, but something like this you really needed to be committed to in order to like it. The most she could do is endure it until the end of this awful boat ride. What were the rules that Slake had spouted off when she was talking about the ship? It was hard for Shalana to remember with the ominous thing standing right in front of her. All she could remember was the comment about things being a nightmare, and she understood now why Slake had said this. The idea of the ship catching fire from Cammy's fiery magic didn't seem like a bad idea. Yes, let it burn. It didn't belong. It had been here too long as it is. This is the feeling she got from every part of the ship. It was pissed. Like a haunted house full of ghosts, the ship couldn't bear to see the living existing; jealous of life just living. Shalana would bet money that there weren't many parties thrown on the ship, or if there were it wasn't the living that was celebrating. Against her better judgment she climbed aboard, and felt herself smothered almost in the darkness of the craft. She felt as if it wanted to do them harm, and her fight or flight mode kicked in. She immediately opened her satchel to see if she could find some type of weapon, or magic she could use to defend herself if need be. Her fingers touched something hard, and wooden. She looked in the satchel and saw the mask. It still had the eerie glow and dark shadow halves, but touching it seemed to give her comfort. It made her feel like she was in the right place, and though the ship was dark the darkness would not engulf her. She had a bigger purpose ahead. Of course she knew this was all bullshit, but she couldn't help feeling a moment of relief. Her head went up a little higher as she stood on the deck of the ship. Not remembering the rules, or knowing where she was to go, she stood on the deck watching the crew do their thing. She lowered her hood to feel the cool air and the mist of the water around her. Her hair was a light golden blanket down her shoulders. Her golden eyes shown like there was a light in them, and the blue in the center looked like it glowed too. She held her head high and thought to herself, 'I am Shalana Bellfine. Sister to Zeno Bellfine, one of the darkest elves alive. I have survived him, and survived my dark elven troupe. I can survive you too, dark ship of death.' She looked around her for someone to chat with. It was more a reflex, like whistling when walking down a dark path alone at night. She needed to make sure that she wasn't the only one in this mess. She looked over to see M'yr heaving up his last meal. She raised her left dark golden eyebrow. Did he see the ship and empty his belly out of disgust? Her first instinctive reaction was to tell him to stand up and get it together. Retching in front of his hired hands made him look weak. Each thought she kept to herself, being smart enough to know that he wouldn't have appreciated it. Most men don't like to be reminded of when they are weak, and are vindictive when they get a chance to get revenge. Instead she stood there, no smile, no frown, just a stoic look as she pretended she didn't see him get sick. He quickly left the deck after he was through. There were others milling around, looking at things and getting their bearings as well. She was curious about them, and wanted to see where they all stood. Shalana made sure to try and catch anyone's eye who looked her way. She was ready to get to know her traveling companions.
  39. 1 point

    Describe your character in six words

    Mountain Boy In Over His Head Woman Prefers Dead To Own Family I Can't Believe It's Not Yhorm It's Like Aladdin, But With Dragons Because Diplomacy Is Its Own Adventure
  40. 1 point

    Describe your character in six words

    The computer wore tennis shoes Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy The king's speech "The man from earth" A knight's tale *all movie titles*
  41. 1 point
    The men’s bathroom, though by the looks of it, the mixed bathroom, was lit like a darkroom that existed purely for aesthetics. It was dark and ridiculously bright at the same time—and for Roxanne—it was also incredibly annoying. How was she going to wash all this blood off her hair if everything looked red? How was she going to wash off at all when everything in this room was so very unsanitary? Roxanne begrudgingly squeezed the water out of her hair, then ran it under the faucet again, careful to not let it touch the basin. Geez. Is this paint or—? She ran manicured nails down her hair. I need a drink. Rinse, rinse. No—wait— Squeeeeze. I don’t need another drink, god, no! She whipped her hair back. It came down with a wet slap. Outside, the club blasted bops non-stop. Her heart pulsated to the bass of the music outside. Either the walls were incredibly thin or everything was incredibly loud; because she could hear the laughter of drunk and high party-goers loitering out in the hall, the telltale noise of a fight going down, and—the sobbing of a guy in the stall behind her? All of it made for a very stressful experience that nullified most of her six senses. Roxanne squinted at the mirror, feeling her retinas burning. She was disgusted by her reflection (her makeup was horrid!)—but felt mostly disgusted by the mirror itself. She had to eye herself through a space in the glass where there wasn’t a single phone number written in lipstick or a shameless and poorly drawn penis in sight. Not to mention some parts of it were chipped off and broken, like the very bathroom itself. For instance, the sink had a noticeable dent in it—like someone smashed someone else’s very tough skull into the vanity sink, leaving leftover debris. Condensation built up on the glass, maybe due to the rest of the bodies in the room who were either very dead or really alive. To her left, judging by the face, is a very scary mercenary stripped of his cybernetics, slumped in the janitor’s area. To her far right is the exit, alongside a passionate couple smoking weed. And beside her, is Harper, awkwardly rinsing his mouth with plenty of water. She didn’t realize at the time that Harper couldn’t actually talk with severe tongue lacerations. What ensued after was a very absurd interrogation that, out of context, sounded like Roxanne was trying to teach him the alphabet with a knife to his throat. She also couldn’t bring herself to kill him. That would be a little too much, even for her. “How—?” Rox started, immediately startling Harper. “How'd you even know this stuff, Harpz?” Her words slurred. Not from the alcohol, but from exhaustion. The question stayed while she inched close but not too close to the mirror, where she’d unfortunately noticed the lipstick smeared down the corner of her lip. While she fussed over her makeup, Harper looked around anxiously, hoping he didn’t need to actually answer that. He couldn’t really talk, not anymore. “Actually no—don’t answer that. That was—that was a stupid question…” Rox ran wet fingers through her wet hair. Streaks of red followed after, like a crimson tidal wave, transforming until it replaced every strand of black on her scalp. From black and curly, to red and wavy. Harper watched it happen with genuine wonder—wondering if what she did was magic or technology—caught in his thoughts of wonder until his absent-minded gaze clashed with a pair of murderous red eyes that seized his suddenly terrified soul. Roxanne stormed her way towards him in a pair of sharp heels that threatened to stab the shattered floor beneath them—closing in on the tortured punk until he didn’t have much time to react, before this woman pressed him up against the countertop so far back he bent his body over the sink. She placed her hands on his hands, placing her face uncomfortably close to his face—as if moving in for a poisonous kiss. Rox inhaled. “I’m just going to make this clear, okay?” Harper winced. Her voice didn’t have the same bloodthirsty and borderline maniacal tone she used many minutes ago. It was tired, and weirdly sad—but Harper could barely tell the difference. “If what you said was like, a bunch of really believable lies?” Rox paused, unable to grasp her words. “You’re totally dead. Like, I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the world, kind of dead.” A beat passed. “That’s—you got that, right?” Harper nodded, even more frantic. “Okay. Okay,” Roxanne stepped back, placing a finger to her chin in thought, but Harper stayed on the sink, stiff. “Good. Right. Well.” Another beat passed. “Run along before I change my mind.” Harper blinked at her. Roxanne blinked back. She made a gesture with her hands. “Run.” And so he did. Harper darted out the room, darted out into the sea of drunks, and darted all the way home. Roxanne watched him go. It was an impulsive choice, letting him go like that. Something welled up in her mind, as if it was a bad thing to let him leave alive. If it was her, five years ago, she’d straight-up murder the poor guy and shred his body into tiny little pieces so small he’d fit down a toilet drain. But now? Now she wondered if she was getting soft. It was a horrifying thought, even more horrifying than getting emotional at a rave. BVVV. Something vibrated in her pocket. And that something should be— Roxanne pulled it out, a cute chain of a TV character dangling from it’s edge. —her phone! When she squinted down at the screen, it read: NEW MESSAGE. She knew just who it was. So she made her way out the bathroom; past the couple slobbering each other to death, and back into the club itself. The music hit her, along with new scents both good and bad, coupled with colder temperatures more tolerable than that damned bathroom. Though the music didn’t spare it some silence, this floor was more calm than the rest; people often gathered here to chit chat and dawdle around. Something like smog enveloped everything, so finding people here was like taking a stab in the dark. FRIDAY, 2:00 AM ilikemilk: we’re here where u roxoxoxo: bathroom were u?? ilikemilk is typing… ilikemilk: nvm i see u Roxanne glanced up, looking around for a familiar face before glancing back down at her screen. roxoxoxo: r u at the bar? roxoxoxo: w8 howd u even get in :00 ilikemilk: try like going to ur left Roxanne went left, passing a group of attractive cyborgs she had to peel her eyes from. ilikemilk: no ur other left ilikemilk: getting cold roxoxoxo: this left? ilikemilk: yeah then go straight ilikemilk: then to ur right ilikemilk: yup yup getting hotter ilikemilk: hot HOT super hot ilikemilk: nono not there roxoxoxo: where?? ilikemilk: behind the rlly tall dude with a fire mohawk ilikemilk: piping HOT ilikemilk: ok nice you should see us rn roxoxoxo: so u WHERE at the bar 😕 ilikemilk: *were ilikemilk: anyways stand right there and look straight u should see us right away Her eyes peeled off her screen. She squinted through an ocean of moving bodies. There were booths here, open ones. Ares said something about a reunion, but it was obvious he’d never tell with who. She would have to wait until she’d caught up with him, so she went looking. She stood there, one hand on her hip and the other on her phone. Is that him? No, that’s not a boy. … That guy? No, too tall. Too skinny. Ew, too weird. Too… electronic? Hmm, too young. … Wait—no—that’s him! She meant to wave, but her hand came up short. It paused in disbelief. Roxanne made eye contact with a man. Blue eyes, blonde hair, kind of looked like the kind of guy to be riddled in bullet holes AND somehow closely resembled an ex? Her face moulded into varying degrees of thrill and confusion. Is that—? Her jaw dropped. Teddy?! "Wait. Where'd she go?" I delicately wipe a very shiny tear containing my self-satisfied delight. It takes me a moment to actually say anything beca—ha—oh—man— "Don't worry," says me, slurping on my delectable milkshake, sunglasses on my magnificent face, "she's already here." You know that magician's saying? You show the pigeon, make it disappear, then show it again? This is like that, except I'm showing my buddy the source of his romantic suffering. That, uh, sounds pretty bad—but this isn't on purpose, I swear. I'm like, a spectator—the old wise wizard sending these guys twisted by fate on a bullet-hell hero's journey. These three are pretty much after the same thing—so why not neatly tie them up together and hope they don't burn and crash into a dumpster fire? Five seconds later, Teddy should be assaulted with lots of hugs and kisses. Then—he'll stare me down the rest of the evening (or morning?) because obviously, this guy—I'm pointing at myself right now—knew this would happen. Anyways, I should countdown to ten, just to see how fast this chemical reaction takes place. I'll start; Ten- "Howdy, cowboy." Okay, that was quick- Roxy, appearing out of thin air, is looking down at Teddy, who is slumping pretty low into in his chair. It takes only a few seconds, but she starts to squeal like hell, wrapping her arms around the guy while hopping up and down—barraging him with stuff like; how many years has it been, you got more muscles, what're you up to these days, and, wow—you're a cop, now? I could go on and on about this, like how Teddy's starting to look like a beet after she smooches him on the cheek, and how for some unknowable reason, she's looking at me like I'm about to be smothered ne— "Baby, is that you?" Oh, fu- I scramble to duck, dodge, and evade the deadly shower of affection I'm yet to receive, to escape from the jaws of auntie love itself—but— What?! Impossible! She's behind me! I panic, my muscle memory egging me to leap away like some kind of feral house cat jumping away from the inevitable glomp of the human that threatens my very power—but it's too late. Her moves are too quick and I'm snatched in the claws of snuggle-wuggle-physical contact time. "Not the FACE—" "You're so tall now, baby!" "ROX-" "Look at you, so handsome now!" "ROX PLEASE-" "Oh, I missed you! Come here and gimme some wuvvin!" "AAARGHH—" Okay, seriously, I need to get on with this—briefing doesn't take all day. All night? Goddamnit. What time is it? After everything's settled, Roxanne's sitting on the table engaging in a banter with disco person—I mean—Yau—fangirling at how cute she is and how adorable her hair is—while Teddy's glaring at me like he's plotting some kind of super intricate revenge plan involving my future children. Eventually, I finally spill the deets. The tea. My milkshake that brings all the boys to the yard. BRIEFING IN PROGRESS. . . —Weapons are getting smuggled into the Core. They're linked to the recent terrorist attacks and bombings. The MTPD's going nuts over it. —They're showing up in places that mirror garbage disposal routes. Everything's in Yau's file. Track down the garbage truck that hasn't yet reported to it's berth in months. —Speculation leads to the destroyed Lightning Rail at Old Palgard. PLAN (A) —Bust some terrorist ass and hope they don't bust ours —Wait do we need an airship?? —Fly off into the sunset explosions ablazing — $$$ Profit $$$ cha ching ching PLAN (B) —Uhhh I didn't really think that far ahead —Improvise —Adapt —Overcome
  42. 1 point
    Mackenzie Rose

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    A slender figure walked through the framed doorway, a woman. Not exactly tall but was most certainly on the higher side of the average height for a woman. Rich coco coloured haired tied in a side braid, hanging over her left shoulder with strands loose at the front from the vigorous and unknown activities the woman was involved with. On her face was a black fabric face-shield that came to start of the bridge on her nose and covered the sides of her face before being held in place underneath her ears. Golden eyes. They weren't bright nor dull, they were just there, existing and looking over the scenery. The right shoulder covered with a two piece silver protector, leaving her left shoulder exposed. Beneath the the armour the woman had a leather, thick strapped tank-top shaped shirt on. The shirt connecting at the right of the chest with silver clips to keep the shirt together. Deep brown gloves covered the woman's slender hands, until they stopped half way up her arm, well above the elbow. A huge belt tied around her belt with a scabbed dagger on either side of her hips, a coin pouch and a small box. Thick leather pants with upper thigh armour attached to the pants thanks to a special someones ability to tailor. Generic boots of brown leather above the knee were her choice of shoe. Atop of the woman's outfit was a satchel with a golden buckle, slung over her left shoulder. Walking from the door-frame, the woman would take a seat at a table, biding no one a second glance or a second of thought.
  43. 1 point

    Argentspire II: Escort

    It wasn't the first time Mathias had heard voices in his head, he understood the world was a wild and strange place, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Erin's caution didn't go unnoticed, "Don't worry, you're not losing it" directing the statement at her as he moved toward the odd structure standing before them. Positioning himself to get a better look, he wondered if the construct could hear his thoughts or if it only spoke directly to their minds. Regardless, he felt almost compelled to answer just to enjoy the opportunity of speaking with it. "I'm here strictly to carry out a mission, a simple one at that. What exactly is the nature of Iurisre's lock?" he inquired, curious to know more. Realizing that this is likely what the scientists had come here to seek, it could have been better to have waited for their consensus before confronting an enigmatic construct of unknown nature and origin.
  44. 1 point
    The Alexandrian

    OBELUS General Discussion

    KNOWN: A V E R R O (Character Length: Six) 2 3 4 5 5 1 (Clue: Gyrum) 11 21 32 22 43 21 BACKGROUND: Answer Character Length: Six Assuming Direct Correspondence to English Alphabet: K U F V Q U Most Frequent Letters In English Alphabet (Descending Frequency): E A R I O T N S ? E ? ? ? E - ? A ? ? ? A - ? R ? ? ? R (Matches Lend Credibility to Cipher Selected) CIPHER 1 - HYPOTHESIS: AVERRO'S DESCRIPTION IS THE CIPHER: Whereabouts unknown (19 Characters; 18 Characters Sans Spaces And Punctuation) Pale. Brown hair. Grey eyes. (28 Characters; 21 Characters Sans Spaces and Punctuation) Last seen: the Emporium (23 Characters; 19 Characters Sans Spaces and Punctuation) - DISCARD Eighteen years old (18 Characters; 16 Characters Sans Spaces and Punctuation) - DISCARD Considering All Characters: 21 - a (Frequency: 11.16%) ? A ? ? ? A 11 - s (Frequency: 5.73%) S A ? ? ? A 32 - h (Frequency: 5.92% (Frequency Source Switched)) S A H ? ? A 22 - l (Frequency: 3.98%) S A H L ? A 43 - e (Frequency: 12.02%) S A H L E A ANALYSIS: Three of the Eight Most Frequent Letters No Repetition Pronounceable Do you concur?
  45. 1 point

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    Rai scratched her head as she entered the tavern. She knew where this was, but she didn’t know how she got here. She was on one of her treasure hunting expeditions, and her path somehow brought her to the Tavern of Legends; she must have gotten lost somehow. In any case, the tavern was an interesting place , and she wouldn’t mind sticking around for a bit, making some new friends. Rai was ‘normal’, the kind of normal that even Elisabeth would had no issues speaking with. She was an athletic young woman, whose skin was tanned by time in the sun, and she was carrying a large backpack. Rai’s head snapped in the direction of Anna as soon as she heard ‘cookies’. She slid over to them and exclaimed excitedly, “Ooooh, I love cookies! Did you make them? Can I have one please? Oh they look cute!” Then she looked embarrassed. “I’m not distubring anything, I hope? Well in return you can ask me anything, I consider myself a pretty well-travelled person!” Her voice was loud enough to carry to the next tables, and though she directed her words to the ladies in front of her, she would not mind answering anyone’s questions.
  46. 1 point

    Hello and new to the forums.

    Depends how low tech you’re aiming for. Gen also has airships, spell fueled motorcycles and some places tout sub machine guns Two places that come to mind for more medieval feel is Orisia, in Genesaris, and Ursa Madeum, in Fracture For orisia - @Pasion Pasiva For UM - @Csl
  47. 1 point

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    @Waking_Warrior @Csl “I’m Nilan.” The lady looked puzzled a bit, seeing her bow her head. She placed her glass down on the table, then placing her hands on her lap. ”Lovely to meet you Nilan.” Anna gave a warm and forgiving smile. She removed the cloth from her basket and held the basket in front of her; letting the two take one cookie. “It would be my pleasure if you two took one of my cookies.” The lady spoke softly and sweetly, smiling at the two. She basically forgot about the little incident from before, she knew the lady before her meant no trouble.
  48. 1 point

    OBELUS General Discussion

    Before I die in class, I wanted to say that I noticed you solved the second puzzle with the keyword "gyrum." If some previous puzzles are being bled into this one, then it should be known that the meaning of gyrum is a circle, ring or a circular motion. I would also recommend that we should probably look at past posts in this thread because OBELUS linking to this may include going back, and not just putting our heads together.
  49. 1 point

    Im back I guess?

    Welcome back Metty!!
  50. 0 points
    Posts will be slowed this week; I've got midterms and some health-related shenanigans going on. 😔🙏 Patience will be much appreciated from everyone I write with. Thank you!
  • Create New...