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A short tutorial on how to make simple HTML tables in the Valucre editor. I came from an html-enabled jcink forum before I came to val and I am here to spread a tiny bit of coding knowledge. Disclaimer: Am not professional coder. In any way. Note: I normally use Chrome for this, but I believe this also works in Firefox 1. Start a new post/thread OR edit an existing post. Leave one line of text in the editor. 2. Right click, then click "Inspect" OR hit Ctrl+shift+I 3. This window will pop up on the right side of the screen. Click the icon that looks like a box with a cursor on it (highlighted) 4. Click the line of text in the Valucre editor. You'll see the devtools jump to the <p>text</p> element. 5. Right-click the <p>text</p> element and click "Edit as HTML" 6. Edit the HTML. Or, paste one of the simple premade codes I've posted below! After you're done, press Ctrl+Enter and the Val editor will display the code you've inputted! After this simply click Save or Post and the post will retain the formatting you've given it via devtools. Yay! I'll add more tables later but here are a few super-simple ones. <div style="width:75%; margin:auto; border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom:1px solid;"> <p>This is a table with 75% width for skinny posts. It also has borders at the top and bottom.</p> </div> <div style="letter-spacing:2px; font-family:Georgia;"> <p>This table has a e s t h e t i c letter spacing</p> </div> <div style="background: pink; color:white; margin:auto; width:75%;"> <p>This table has a pink background and white text because reasons, I guess.</p> </div> Feel free to ask questions below and/or test tables!

ALTERION As I am sure you all have already seen, Alterion is going through some grueling renovations and the content is being refurbished and tidied up. If only to add some flare. Needless to say, I am about to wreck some...spit. Some time ago I placed a ‘Canon Collecting’ post to engage those RPers who worked on content in Alterion that requires notice by us (the board members) to which I only received one request/remembrance of canon. That’s why this is now here. With that in mind this thread is for gathering members who would like to own land in Alterion. Some areas already have lore, others do not… Please feel free to do with it as you'd like. Please make sure to read over the main lore page for Alterion to get an idea of its theme and content. (It will be changing soon into a more wild and natural region...) That way, when you start creating, you don’t have to hold back. Food for Thought...: The Hollow is going to be a destructive event used to tear Alterion down so that it can be used as a fresh foundation to build upon. Participate in the upcoming event to claim land and/or loot? Join in the rebuild of civilizations after the event? Sectors/Areas up for grabs (or if you just have an idea and need a place to bring it to life but don’t want to be in complete control of it, we’re always open to that) : Cosanastre: @Aleksei as Nadia Royce will become the new Ruler of Cosanastre and its people. Sector 1: Kageroth Province Sector 3: Opharion Province Sector 4: Vysroth Province Sector 5: Seroth Province Sector 6: Arysene Province Greater Arkadia: @Meraxa Arkadia Prime (Momar) MaGNUS Forest Izral Each of these areas can be renamed and have new lore attached to them. Facility-05 @Sanonymous Luka'reccia Kitashiobara Minaiki Kimpusen-ji Devla (formerly known as Devla Desert): @-Lilium- Devla Desert Vysroth Peak Daius Industry Conservatory Fantas-Menagerie HQ KetaKutan Archipelago Babel Corporation Subsidiary Port Tauranga Pijesak Peninsula Lands of Alterion Please take a look at the Bestiary both for Alterion and Fantas-Menagerie and feel free to incorporate any of the creatures there if you so wish. And always feel free to create your own and send them to me so I can add them to the master list as well! Create your own area in the free lands? MaGNUS Forest Kageroth Mountains What does this mean? You can read over the ones that already have lore and send me your own version should you choose to rewrite it. Keep it as it is and roll with it. Take the opportunity to write and build your own little megalopolis within Alterion. What do we need from you, should you choose to accept this offer? Write lore. Dedicate some(not necessarily every living moment) time to your sector to keep up with the changing world of Valucre and the lands of Nehalen that we now fall under. Pay attention to updates, the Alterion lore as a whole, as well as that of Kadia and Nehalen to make sure you know what’s going on around your area and how it may affect your lore. Be active in special events we(the board members) create, create your own events(submit for approval beforehand), engage with other sector members to make alliances/civil war/etc. And never be afraid to ask questions! If you are concerned, have questions, don’t understand something...just ask! Last but not least, we need your understanding. As you can see paradigm is currently away due to real life and I cannot always be around either. If you need some help, drop me a line in a Valucre PM and I will respond as quickly as I am able. What I will do for you: Review & read your content. Make approvals as quickly as possible and as necessary. Collaborate with you if you need a hand. Write with you if you need an extra body in a thread. Request tags for your area(s) from our overload supernal for you. Be there for you when you need me, within reason. What am I up to in Alterion and on Valucre? Upcoming: The Hollow [Event] Coming soon to the Alterion near you...(very soon) Daius Industries merger with Babel Corporation of Nehalen Grand Opening of Fantas-Menagerie Unveiling of the new Daius Industries Conservatory of Izral World Technology Summit that will be held in Nehalen Catered by Precious Pastries (of course) Currently: Organizing/Refurbishing/Adding Content & Flare to Alterion Prepping all the information for Upcoming Events Other RP stuff all over Valucre.

Necessity and a healthy dose of ambition are driving Akako, the current Regent of Port Caelum, to expand her territory. With the immediate threat that the Datsuzoku Empire presents, Akako is amassing power and allies to take down the potential threat. Beyond that, she seeks to spread her influence far beyond the Port City she currently governs. Since arriving in Valucre, the daiyokai had been satisfied to take a supporting role; however, everything has changed with long-standing allies failing her by either neglecting their duties to lead appropriately or by betraying her trust on a more personal level. It is finally time for the rumored Yokai Queen to solidify her status and rise to power befitting someone of her station. Upon joining Akako’s ranks, you will be exposed to a roleplay experience that is unlike any other offered in Valucre. What we offer is a unique prestige rank and influence tier system that will reflect upon in-character accomplishments, which will allow you to earn character and player privileges respectively. I am currently looking for a group of dedicated long-term players that are ready and eager to be involved in both PVP and PVE conflicts in the forms of espionage, diplomacy, war, and much more. Q&A Section: 1. What do you mean be "earn character and player privileges?" There are roles that I have already set, however, they are NPCs which can be controlled by people within the organization depending on what influential tier and prestige ranking you've acquired. Basically, it isn't the position that is of interest to you or any other RPer, but the authority to use a certain level of power within the empire as it expands. For instance, say a higher ranked RPer was writing with a lower ranked RPer, the higher ranked RPer would be able to exercise the most influence over the NPC's regardless of who owns the thread. So, when you first start you would be tier 0, so you have no control over any of the NPC's, but as you rise in ranks you basically have access to more. That being said, there is a cap on how many "cooks" there will be in the kitchen. And to get to the highest tier, there needs to be a substantial amount of work put in.The reason for that is the influence tier system is basically a symbol of trust in you (or another player). Basically, if I am going to let you drive my car, I need to trust that you're dedicated to my cause. 2. Can you explain a little more about the influential tier, and prestige ranking? Like how do you earn them, which one does what, and what exactly I would need to do to increase either? The influential tiers are the overall control you will have in a setting over NPC's, so this is for the player. The prestige ranking basically is how much sway you will have with Akako ICly with your OC. An OC with higher prestige will have an easier time asking her for something or making suggestions than someone that doesn't have that prestige. Prestige rankings can pretty much give an OC minor celebrity status which can be used in other ways aside from how they interact with Akako. So, someone with a high enough prestige ranking could theoretically get a guard to overlook them committing a minor crime or they might be able to eat at places for free. I know a lot of tabletop games and even video games include a Charisma stat. I would think of prestige as something akin to that. So influence tiers are for the player, while each OC has its own prestige rank. (Ex. A tier 5 player may have one OC with 30 prestige points and another OC with only 10.) So here is how the Tier system looks and the requirements per tier. Influential Tiers: Tier 0 - No special privileges Requirement: N/A Tier 1 - Minor control over basic NPCs and some guards. (Ex. If you're following Hanami, I am doing just that when we see some of those staffed by Akako coming and going from the estate and when they watch the interaction between Koji and Akako. You will notice that they do not directly interact with anyone at this point.) Requirement: 350 points, 10 prestige points Tier 2 - Control over basic NPCs and some guards. At this point, you can control them to interact with others aside from your character. That means, you can have them interact with other OC's at this point. Requirement: 700 points, 15 prestige points Tier 3 - Can control mid-level diplomats. Requirement: 1050 points, 30 prestige points Tier 4 - Basically control anyone within the town/city that is under Akako's influence. Requirement: 1400 points, 50 prestige points Tier 5 - Able to declare war and broker peace treaties. Requirement: 1750 points, 100 prestige points The point system comes in two parts, points earned by completing quests and earning “extra credit based on the amount of work and thought put into the quest. The second part is prestige points awarded by the class of quests completed. Obviously, the harder the quest, the more prestige points you can earn. Again, the point requirement to move up in tier includes the prestige points earned. (ex. 345 accumulated quest completion points + 15 prestige points = 360 points)

"I will show you how the mighty fall." ☾ The Grand Kommadant of Nehalen has begun the process of removing the mighty Gods of her land. The balance between these Gods of the people of Nehalen is being disrupted by the Kommadant's blasphemous actions. By erecting a nullifier in the form of an invisible veil, Primera begins the process of pushing these powerful beings back into their own world, sundering them from the land they have called home for eons. This has sent the Gods into a frenzy, their powers are being siphoned from them the more they fight against the push, weakening them immensely, and their minds have begun to dwindle into psychosis. Once revered and fondly feared, the Gods are now looked upon as a disease in the eyes of the Grand Kommadant's followers who believe the time of Man has finally come. ☽ Welcome! I'm glad you all could drop on by to my little event I've got here. Things are pretty straight forward around these parts: Nehalen (formerly Renovatio) is going through some changes and this event will be the spark to said changes. I'm asking you all to affect my lore by joining the threads offered to kill a God and properly canonize them. The Gods are scattered across Nehalen and I will provide you those locations. Kill a God, become a hero (or villian)! Q&A: How many pages do the threads need to be? I am looking for at least two pages. Can always be more but can't be less! How many Gods can I kill? As many as you want but you can only go after one at a time. Can I do this alone? Absolutely! If you want to solo kill a God, I see no issue with that. Do I need to use a specific character? No. You can use whatever character you want but I do expect some sort of fairness from you all. Please keep to mild powers associated with the forum. Do I need to use a specific combat system? No. I am allowing everyone to go kill crazy with this but, again, I do expect some sort of fairness from you all. Please realize this isn't supposed to be easy; I expect damage not only to the area(s) you are fighting the Gods in but also damage to your character. Can I contain a God? Go right ahead! Contain it however you want, doing whatever you want, just keep in mind that it is a lesser, weaker version and it will be that way forever due to my character cutting said God's will off. Can I absorb the spirit/essence of the God? Of course! Do I need to use a storyteller? If you feel it is necessary, go right ahead! I don't know how to start? No worries! I will be creating prompts for all the Gods that need to be killed and you can follow that prompt however you wish. Just post in the thread and have fun. How long do I have once I start? I would appreciate 1 post per 3 days. This will keep the thread going with hopes it'll be finished at an appropriate time. If I see a thread has stalled for more than two weeks, I will assume that God is up for grabs again. If you need more time, reach out to me! I understand how life can be a bit hectic. I'm done, now what? Tag me in your summary for the thread with opportunities (example: killed the God, ended up destroying a city/village/town, how will this affect the area? Was something unleashed during this? etc.) for future role-players. I need some extra help! Never hesitate to reach out to me. I am constantly available on Discord, making it the quickest way to get answers. No Discord? That's okay, just send me a pm or tag me in the OOC for this event. How long is this event? Until all the Gods are killed off or just enough of them are killed. Gods & Their Threads: Titans Cialo ∾ Montis Maximus — Seraphim/Archon/Enigmas Enoch ∾ Liarae ∾ Sarandriel ∾ Ezekiel ┌────┬────┴┬───┴┐ Ynliss Nahum ∾ Vita ∾ Aestus ∾ Ventus ∾ Ophiuchus ┊iiiiiiiiiiiiiii┊iiiiiiiiiiiiiii┊iiiiiiiiiiiiiii┊ Baal ∾ E`na the Glorifier Libra, Sagittarius ↲ ┊ ┊iiiiiiiiiiiiiii┊ Aries, Gemini, Taurus ↲iiiiiiii iiiii ┊iiiiiiiiiiiiiii┊ Cancer, Leo, Virgo ↲ ┊ Aquarius, Pisces ↲ Rifornire - Cialo: THREAD » Claimed @Thotification » Completed - Montis Maximus: THREAD » Claimed @danzilla3 » Completed - Vita: THREAD » Claimed @vielle » Completed - Saggitarus: THREAD » Claimed @Thotification » Completed - Aries: THREAD » Claimed (@) » Completed - Gemini: THREAD » Claimed (@) » Completed - Aquarius: THREAD » Claimed @SteamWarden » Completed - Ynliss: THREAD » Claimed @Infernal » Completed - Nahum: THREAD » Claimed @Etched In Stone » Completed - Aestus: THREAD » Claimed @Alexei » Completed - Taurus: THREAD » Claimed @ticklefarte » Completed - Cancer: THREAD » Claimed (@) » Completed - Leo: THREAD » Claimed @Rabbit » Completed - Virgo: THREAD » Claimed @-Lilium- » Completed - Ventus: THREAD » Claimed @Twitterpated » Completed - Ophiuchus: THREAD » Claimed @Csl » Completed - Baal: THREAD » Claimed @Fierach » Completed - E'na: THREAD » Claimed @Ataraxy » Completed - Libra: THREAD » Claimed @vielle » Completed - Pisces: THREAD » Claimed (@) » Completed - Rifornire: THREAD » Claimed @Metty » Completed Please let me know which God you would like to go after so I can put your name next to it to keep everything orderly. 

Have I got the roleplay for you! So, as an over-arching plot, I've had these body snatching aliens cooking in Terrenus for a while. I'm happy to go into the details of what they've gotten up to in the last few years, and how much of a threat a recent symposium has classified them as, but that's peripheral to what's going on here And what's going on here is that they're branching out. I'm too busy to individually follow these things through but that's the whole point of collaboration right?! It doesn't have to be just me!? So there's two things: 1. Grow an already established presence in Norkotia. This is a slow burn. The thread that comes out of this should be another step, another brick, and not a sudden eruption of ALIENS. Since snatched citizens are already seeded its about establishing and growing a political presence. You can think of this as playing a character with a dark secret, as opposed to a scifi alien plot. This shouldn't be a solo thread although only one of the players needs to be a snatched citizen 2. Establish a presence in another location - specifically Veluriyam empire (wherever their seat is which I believe is Taen), Hyperion, or Predator's Keep. This should be as close to a citizen or vassal or lord as the structure allows; we want to belong to their charter or institution whatever the case may be. There's oodles more locations to pick from but those are the three I want to focus on now. This can be a solo thread (such as the one I did for Norkotia) or a collective effort. Anyone interested? Note for emphasis - I won't be able to join personally but will organize and guide efforts

Hi! I'm Asphodel, I just signed up and I'm still kinda getting used to how things are set up here. I've been roleplaying on forums for the better part of 8-9 years now, and while I love the other sites I inhabit I was really itching for a new community and a new setting. To say a few things about myself; I'm a self taught artist, I'm a hardcore introvert, I go by they/them and generally I'm a very private person when first meeting people, if that explains a bit of my hesitance here. Still! I don't bite, at worst I'll get anxious and not reply for a day lol. Anyways, I'm excited to dive into this world! If anybody wants to help show me the ropes, I'd be really appreciative.

This caught a fair bit of people off guard despite the announcement. I plan to make an archive temporarily available in 2020 to allow people to grab / repost their sheets

Hello Friends!! You've read the subject line correctly!! Queen Aurora of Crystallo Stella will be opening up the mines for the pubilc! What does that mean you ask? Well once I get the official template out there will be special gems that can be mined that have certain abilities that are desirable, many of which can be used in an apothecary scenario. Which stems to the school that sits in Obsidian Isle a mining location, a great place to check out for secondary plots with the mining. As I was saying, I will be putting out an official listing of available gemstones and minerals that can be mined in the several locations in Crystallo Stella. Each of the the minerals and gemstones will be listed with a rarity, and the miners will pay a fee based on what they're able to get mined out. Granted I will be requiring participants who venture the mines to use a dice system to determine what are gemstones they have dug up. In this list that I will put out will have all attributes of the minerals listed among other things, so I hope that you keep an eye out for the opening of these amazing landmarks of interest in Crystallo Stella. As I finish the codex for this, I will post an update here! -Eternity

The Concubine was swathed in the memories of yesterday when she had worn the armor of a SoulSeeker with pride and held the teachings of the God-Emporer close. Those times feel so long ago, the memories frayed on the ends and distorted from the regular visits she pays during times of brief loneliness. It was a life she was sure she'd be satisfied with, but fate can be a little cruel with the hand it deals those that are poisoned by complacency. Even now the black sludge trailed through her veins, weighing her down as she walks the halls of pasts gone by. Being so close to abominations made the skin on her arms rise, the doctrine to be so distrustful towards such creations singing to her like a siren to a weary ship. When her God-Emporer finally wed his Goddess, a variety of individuals attended the nuptials and sifting through the more critical faces had been Raphael. Vividly, the scene projects itself before the once SoulSeeker, showing her how the man had presented a golden unicorn horn as a present to her Goddess. Never had the Goddess Leoa hidden her disdain towards horses and Raphael, ever the twisted snake, showed a peaceful weakness when he represented the gift. She thinks of this time now as they saunter upon land donning the name of the man who had killed a whole herd of horses and one unicorn with only the thought of the foreign Goddess in mind. Dangerously unnerving. Or, at least, that is what the Celine had thought of at the time. The poison from her blood is slowly wicked away; what she thinks now is they are not safe, but entirely for different reasons. Displaced due to some unfortunate circumstances, it has taken her time to become acclimated to her life as a Concubine and as a mother within the harem. This would be the first significant event outside their own homeland that she has walked silently at the Emporer's side, and she is toeing the line of SoulSeeker and Concubine minted in confusion. Being away (amongst other turmoils) has undoubtedly made her awkward. "In Renovatio, we have a celebration that is relatively similar," she said to Ozu. The walk down memory was diverted to the reality of the day. "Every spring the Grand Kommadant holds a huge event that's dragged out for an entire week." When speaking, the Concubine would punctuate her soft speech with flourishes of the hands. "Flowers from far and wide cover the streets of our capital city; song fills the air, and the sounds of people make the earth hum beneath your feet." Being excitable is not an air the woman usually wears, but to better ease Ozu into the fold she felt it was a purposeful move - for them both, truthfully. She wore this persona well, the warmth of her words and actions making her glow; the swiftness of her flamboyant gestures causing the light to be captured in the redness of her hair. Golden hues twinkled, her youth exasperated by their eagerness to see, to watch. The easy conversation made the lilt of her accent high and sweet, her Renovatian roots finally showing. "It's a celebration for our goddess Apocrapha and her loved one - Roscephon. Theirs is a love story that gives reason to the Tree of Life and the remaking of our home," a laugh tickled her final sentence. "A week-long excuse to drink, dance, and be merry if I'm to be honest." "Now they celebrate something similar, for a different goddess and her creations. The manabai'wok are ginormous creatures that look like wild wolves; you would appreciate these creatures Ozu." Celine spoke not only to Ozu, but also the gentleman close by. "As would you, I think. You seem the sort to enjoy the exotic." @dvsn @Twitterpated @Etched in Stone

Alright, after that lengthy disappearance and all.... I will be dropping a few severely owed posts later on this morning, and from then on will be Sunday nights and Thursdays for my posting days until after finals (May 1st). (My class schedule changes every 5 weeks). If I owe you some writing, please send me a PM if you would like me to continue there. I do have a list, but it's going to take me some time to go down it and read every thread it contains to see how things are going in them. Thank you guys.

lanius @LARGELADLANIUS • 2m ago UHJYSajhsAHGDSADASNDM,ASDH;OAI KASJHDkjlskajsdhka KJHDSAhkjs KJkjhakjd,,, 1 REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE Adrya @ADRYAARCOSXVII • 1s ago I've told you this a thousand times. Your fingers are too big for the keyboard, you idiot. REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE

Just something I've been wondering for a while When browsing lore of locations (cities, landmarks, nations, etc.) how much lore do you look for? How much detail do you need to be able to rp comfortably in the setting, or what details are enough for you to go by? Do you prefer detailed lore that outlines every notable aspect of a location -- down to breeding patterns of local wildlife, plumbing and waste disposal, etc. -- or is a general description of the location's appearance good? Do you prefer having all the details at hand, or do you want enough freedom to exercise your creativity? How much lore is enough?

V.C.F Recruitment Page Good day lady/gentlemen, this message has reached you because you are the best of the best, the top of the shelf, the crème de la crème of Valucrean society. Be it for your martial prowess, your vast intellect, your practical specificality or your resourcefulness on the field, we could not have asked for better men and women to protect the life of those weak and innocent around us. We are the Valucrean Containment Foundation. We revel in death to uphold life. We wage wars to maintain peace. We thrive in chaos so that the world remains orderly. We are the bastions that protect. Of course, our history streches far and wide, and our influence vast and powerful, but you may satisfy your curiosity in your own time. Today, you have been called. This is your opportunity to be one of the sentinels of civilization, the torch of society. We are inviting you to become a VCF operative. Consider it well, we await your arrival. -Overseer council [648]th wave of invitation. Good evening! Hopefully you are doing well. I've been here for give or take, half a year, but ever since I returned I really wanted to establish myself as a presence that can be felt in Valucre, to a point where at least if I went AFV, someone would ask "Oh hey where's that anonymous guy?" and of course my first stage of this plan is site-wide domination >:) So I decided I would love to connect and establish relationships with the lot of you Valucrean community, by way of this organization! I made this as a dead ringer of the SCP foundation, and of course thanks to the vortex at the center and implications of a multiverse far before that, it is connected somewhat to the VCF 😄 The VCF acts as a valucrean-wide organization that is essentially a "we do bad stuff for good things, end justify the means" kinda organization. A few weeks/months ago, two people established interest in being a part of the VCF, and I thought to myself that a Foundation without it's representatives is rather just dull and boring 😄 So thanks to Supernal's helpfulness, coupled with @Metty and @The Fire Heart's enthusiasm, I got a club made under the VCF banner and am inviting anyone interested to join. With plenty of jobs like Agents, Special agents, Researchers, etc", your characters can be virtually anything they want and more! Of course, I am all for creative writing and I absolutely HATE when people restrict a person's writing, so if there is a character under the VCF lore, they are free to do as they please 😄 A good example of this is @Metty's Arashi who has been on multiple RPs either representing the VCF, or doing her own gig 😄 Your character could very much be a VCF agent as a part time job! So, if you have a little bit of good in your heart and a whole lot of evil to project onto the bad guys, come join us! Be those new or old on the site, we accept all and discriminate none 🙂

Hello hello! New to the forum scene and I'm excited to write and make new friends here! I'm 28 and started on Yahoo chat. I play video games (currently playing FFXIV), watch anime and some TV! I do graphic design on the side and speak a few languages. (English is my third language) Happy posting and can't wait to dive deeper into this community. ❤

Alright, the Grand Emperor felt like that was long enough. He listened to the crowd, to see if they were pumped up enough yet. "Kill them already!!!" "Make them bleed!!!" "Let's see some gore!!!" "Tear them apart!!!" "Entrails! Entrails! Entrails!!!" Yeah, they were pumped enough. "Alright! May the bloodshed begin!!!" After the go ahead was given, the announcer began to speak. "Aaaaalright everyone, let's hear it for our first combatants! Found roaming wild in the Underworld, half-starved and driven to a frenzy just moments before, you know em you love em, its the HEEELLHOUNDS!!!" After the introduction, the gates to the arena opened, and what appeared to be black Mastiffs stampeded out of them. And stampeded was the proper word, as these things were as big as grizzly bears. Their glowing red eyes sparked with near rabid fury, and they tore toward their chosen targets. They each picked one, except for a few. Three unlucky fighters ended p getting two to target them. Or rather, a few unlucky- oh whatever. The hounds closed the distance to the group with startling speed, and attacked viciously.

No, it's flat. Don't listen to this Rounder propaganda.

HELLO. Hover over highlighted text for more details. Ask questions in this thread when instructions are unclear. What do they know? @Wade @SweetCyanide @vielle @jaistlyn

Finals? Done. Semester? Over. Graduation? Pushed to next semester due to a fatal flaw on my counselor's end. No biggie! Jordancon? A blast. Back to RP? Ooooh yeh. I didn't think I'd get a chance to return because I was fairly certain that after I graduated, I'd head to Houston and do the work thing and simply wouldn't have time. But alas, things happen the way they do, and here I am. The past is behind me, and it's time to move on to better writing things. If we fell out, I'd enjoy reconnecting! If we lost touch, here I am! I've had a massive list of To-Do things I've been working on slowly but surely to lead up to the next few weeks so gird your loins. I just accepted an offer for a very life-changing job that I am super excited about, so my posting will likely be in the evenings hence forth as I get started on the career. Biggest and bestest thanks to @danzilla3 @Grubbistch @Twitterpated @vielle @Csl @The Houndand @King for their activity, creative advice and support in helping me through the rough patches. School nearly killed me but I'm almost done! If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, you rock and you know that! Lets do the thing.

It’s not exactly encryption, it’s hexadecimal encoding (hence 6). Encryption is used to hide, but encoding is just used to represent, as well as to compress data at times. It’s a more human-readable way of representing data presented to the computer, including letters (which otherwise, 'a' looks like 01100001). Each character is represented by 2 digits (0 to F). The message is ominous: How did I know this: I've just seen enough undecoded text in my work to suspect hexadecimal when I see it. Still have no idea what the keys are though.

I raise you one.

Prelude ”You want to do what’s right, don’t you Norman?” A cold and dark voice pierced the still air of a dusty and darkened room. Sitting at a lone wooden table in said dark room with one dull and dimly light lightbulb hanging overhead was a man of some years. Greying features accompanied by a stern but tired face showed the wear and tear of someone who had held a hard career filled with strife and pain. Upon his person he wore the olive green dress uniform of a guard or military personnel, much like the man it too was faded with the passage of time and hardship that came with it. Changing slowly but noticeably the stern look of a hardened professional shifted to a shape of slight fear and anxiety. He looked down at the wooden table for but a moment, and for the first time in his life, an honest man had blinked. It was all the serpent needed to sink its fangs in. ”You see. Your post, it’s simply overrun with villainy and crimes of unspeakable volumes. Murder, arson, assault, and every day it gets worse. You don’t want it to get worse do you Norman?” Words dripped laced with the false concern of one born of evil and hatred. Someone who only said the words necessary to get what they needed. ”N-No... I don’t want it to get worse...” The man known as Norman said with a shaky voice. ”No no no, of course you don’t want that Norman. You want to bring about a change. But you can’t do that by yourself can you?” The fangs sunk deeper into the man’s resolve as it began to crumble beneath their pressure. ”I want to change it... but the crime lords they have too much pow-“ A swift yet gentle coated in black iron and red inlay jutted out from the darkness and slowly placed the backside of it against Norman’s cheek. ”Shhhhh. You let me take care of them and I promise you a good change will come your way. One of great heft and depth.” Slowly the hand retreated back into the darkness and returned to drop a bulbous cloth sack onto the table. Hitting it with a hard clink of loose metal items, the bag spilled open to reveal golden coins that lay on the table and glimmered in Norman’s eyes. It was all but over now, the man had lost. ”And the best part Norman. You don’t even need to do anything. Just secure the gates after curfew, and don’t let your men have anyone go in or out. There’s a chest-load more of that for you and your men as well. Can you do that, Norman? Can you do that for me?” There was a silence after the voice spoke from the shadows. Norman looked at the gold. Thought of his honor, his duty, his post and charge. He then thought about the years of his life being abused, having his job mocked and spat upon by those he was meant to be above. He thought of his wife and his retirement. The house on the coast. College paid off for his grandkids. Something to leave his family besides a mediocre retirement fund upon his death. He thought of all this, and his decision was made. Taking the bag of gold he clutched it to his chest and spoke five words. ”Yes. I can do that.” An honest man died. Wicker Town Blues Wicker Town Entrance 2100 Hours Rain fell from the sky as horse whinnied and came to a stop. With a carriage in tow we got to see within its confines. Luxurious silk lined seats and golden tassels that hung from plush throw pillows. The entire carriage reeked of money and wealth, of people who had built that on acts of cruelty and violence. People that Dredge tended to enjoy, but had to be dealt with all the same. Sitting at the far left seat of the bench was a man known as Salvador “Money” Felix. One of the crime lords who happened to run a network of gangs here in Wicker Town. With him was his wife of fifteen years and their only son. They had been out celebrating Salvador’s won appeal about a parole violation. Not that it really mattered, but the family seemed to be in good spirits with smiles stretched across their bright and beautiful faces. ”I can’t believe they thought William would rat you out.” The woman laughed as she clutched to her husband’s side. ”Nah, William is solid. Couldn’t crack that guy with a hammer. Just like my little man over here.” The crime lord soon picked up his young son and cradled him up onto his lap. The boy smiled and laughed at his father’s grasp and held tight to him in return. ”I couldn’t go back to Reyer City and leave this tough guy right here.” Salvador chuckled as everything started to go somewhat quiet. ”Why are we stopped? That old git Norman knows I don’t like to be held up.” With frustration in her voice her husband opened the carriage door and looked out to where Norman was. Wicker Town was surrounded by walls and barbed wire fences, and the main entrance had a two part gate where people would be let in, searched, then advanced through the second gate. Salvador found himself and his family within the holding area between gates. Looking around he spotted Captain Norman in his uniform and rain coat looking towards him with cold and hollow eyes. The eyes of someone who knew what was about to happen but could do nothing. Ignoring those eyes, Salvador stepped out and seethed with anger. ”Norman you stupid idiot! I told you I don’t need to be held up! How about some of my boys go and visit your kids at their jobs again, huh! Would you like that you son of a bitch!” Salvador yelled at the Captain to no avail with his stone wall of a face. There was simply a pause between them. ”You’re right. Goodbye Mister Felix.” Norman gave the crime lord a gentle nod of the head before retreating into the shadow of the guardhouse. ”Everything okay, dear?!” His wife yelled from the carriage as she poked her head out into the rain. Salvador turned his body slightly to look back at her. ”Yeah babe, everything is fin-“ A gunshot interrupted the man. Pulling his hands up now covered in his own blood, he looked up from it to see standing there five people. One that stood near seven feet tall and shrouded with dark robes, and on either side of him plain clothed men and women with bandanas over their faces carrying automatic magitech rifles. His wife screamed and clutched their son close to her. ”What is it that they say in your profession? It’s not personal.” And with that the order was given. Brief shrieks of horror were quickly snuffed out by the sound of gunfire and thunder as rain poured down heavier upon Wicker Town. After a few extra double tap shots were fired for good measure, the men who had committed this act of violence had removed themselves from the scene and left only a bullet riddled carriage, a dead horse, and a slaughtered family to bleed onto the wet ground. ”Bravo One this is Overlord Actual, Target Blackbird neutralized. Proceed to targets Hippogriff, Bone Devil, and Drider.” Going out on a secure comms line, the operation had begun. Throughout Wicker Town various teams of plainclothes Legion commandos moved through the mud and rain of Wicker Town. Rows upon rows of slum and poverty stricken buildings lined the roads and alleyways of this town. Three targets remained had been designated to be taken care of, codenames Hippogriff, Bone Devil, and Drider. Leaders of the more powerful gangs here in this forsaken place. Once they were removed and a message sent, Dredge would have control of this town and it’s people. A beacon away from the Cold Mountains to conduct his affairs and see to it that the work needing to be done was handled. Where the man found himself now was on the outer layers of the town, in a place where only the worst of the worst were sent. The barbed wire fields. Chained to posts surrounded on all sides by the jagged pieces of twisted metal were the dammed. Those who had broke the rules of this place and were made example of. Walking up to one of the downtrodden, a Orc whose breathes were shallow and eyes weak. Dredge looked to the man from beneath his hood and spoke. ”Do you wish to be free?” The snake bared it’s fangs once again. The operation had begun, and Legion was ready to make their move to expand here in Genesaris. OOC

Ever since he was born it seemed death followed him everywhere he went, urging him to do its bidding. He'd refused many a time, and was paid by the incessant kiss of life. After Pandora had been unleashed upon the world he'd been forced into hiding. The beasts of prey and terror were much stronger than the death magic he wielded within himself. Within a week the small band of thirty he'd been surviving with had been shaved down to a mere seven, and that's if one counted the poor souls without leg or arm. That night, after staring into the eyes of an inky black Titan, he'd tried to take his own life, but couldn't. Each night after, under the sharp glittering of the skies, he tried and failed to leave this plane. He'd trail a hand over the leather of his spell book, feeling the lumps and scratches of old material mixed with the brine of tears that fell anew from his eyes. Years later he sits in a heap of rubble in an indiscriminate town in a forlorn city. He'd been flushed here by a mage storm that blew in from the seas, catching him and his companion off guard. His companion, a young dragon-born, wanted to stay in the high mountains, weather it out, but Ivan could feel the fury of the storm. It set deep in his bones, rattling his teeth with an ungodly fear; he wasn't going to stay. They parted ways, knowing full well that they'd never see each other again, and Ivan traveled here through the dead of night, following whatever path death designed to keep him alive. The home was normal enough, a standard brick and mortar with pastel flowers that faded into dirt streaks on the walls. The only thing that was out of place was the radio that wined every so often. This message will now be repeated... He listened to that message for the week he stayed in the structure, memorizing it by the time he got enough supplies to travel to site-909. The journey was dangerous, like all things in those days. If it wasn't a Titan then it was the Giants, if it wasn't the Giants it was the Gargantuan Birds swooping in with wingspans 50 feet and up. He hunted and killed, rose a dead person in order to ask for directions. The sight of the port city lightened Ivan's step, the first spark of real hope igniting in his chest. This is it, this might be my chance to get out of this hell hole. He stuck into the city, keeping a low profile as he juts from house to house. The low crashing of waves echoes in the distance as Ivan hops down a flight of stairs. The Titan lumbers in the Town Square, hunched over in a low slouch. Taking out his spell book, he mumbles a few arcane words and traces symbols in the air. After a quick dusting of white powder Ivan is invisible, sneaking past the Titan without a problem. He opens the trapdoor, gulping in a lungful of damp earthen air before descending. "Hello, I am Ivan."

Lunaris has always been a frontier town. As the first settlement built upon the discovery of the Taen subdimension, it has seen its share of adversity. From normal threats like bandits, to a city-sized hydra bursting from beneath her streets, the city and its people fought hard to get to where they are now. This has bred a spirit of self reliance among the populace, and until now there has been little more than a token city guard to keep order. But recently it has been made clear that more is needed. A devastating string of crimes taking place over the span of a day has highlighted the need for a rapid response force, as well as a formal law enforcement apparatus. Enter the Lunarian Protectorate. For our very first official Law Enforcement agency, we need recruits! All positions listed in the lore page are available, but right now what we most need is a Sheriff! Applicants should be tough, independent, with a history of combat or police experience. Apply now! @supernal May I have a banner pls?

The rapidly decreasing amount of life in the vicinity wasn't particularly concerning to Aya. She had smelled things that were more stomach churning than sensing death around her, and the place she grew up in was notoriously dangerous- to the point where walking around armed was encouraged. She had seen Scarab Sparrows swarming someone, Ruby Backed Gorillas rip men apart, a ship being completely destroyed by a sea monster with the only survivor shortly after being dragged to the depths. The only thing she thought of it was that Caeceila was going overboard, and needed to restrain herself. She didn't say it since the wyrman (Wyrm-Woman) was having a gay 'ol time in her slaughter spree, and Aya didn't want to find out whether or not she was in the midst of a blood-rage. Undoubtedly, it would be included in her report later, and any endangered species being killed would result in trouble for the Glassman family. If not trouble from the government, from certain pro-life organizations. Several of the others had commented on Aya's harsh judgement of herself. It was easy for them to say that she was useful. They all could fight, and Aya being able to heal was a safety net. If anyone other than Dauner knew she could also resurrect, the safety net would be even larger. "Thank you." Aya said while raising her cup of tea to her mouth. She took a sip and then said "But you should understand that my abilities aren't as simple as all of yours, no offense intended. I'm completely incapable of using magic. The power I wield isn't fueled by mana or any other form of energy produced by Valucre, and isn't useful for practical combat, interrogation, or disabling the Enrelle." she didn't sound sad at all. She let out a sigh "This staff is a religious artifact that connects me to the god I'm contracted with. It cannot be wielded by anyone else, and it being stolen would result in many unnecessary deaths- the blood of which falls on my hands. There are many stipulations associated with me being able to wield it and direct its power. One of those stipulations is that no part of my anatomy is to be removed, examined, altered, or tampered with by anyone- not even myself. The next is that my magic cannot work on certain individuals, of which the Enrelle are one. My earlier curse only worked because the Enrelle were separated from the Yuuja." a moment's pause was given before she then said "So, per the moment, my only practical use is healing and blessing. However, Mister Dauner has obtained an immunity to my blessings. He would need to personally request it from me, otherwise it would backfire." Aya knew that her explanation of her powers was extremely vague. She intentionally didn't specify why it was that the Enrelle had a resistance to her, why Dauner was immune unless he requested a blessing, or all the various clauses in her contract. She also didn't say what the staff being stolen and the death of potentially thousands had in common, nor would she specify them at the given time. Any questions for specificity would result in her saying "I am unable to answer that at the moment." and leaving the subject where it lay. During their bus ride to the border, Aya sat in the front of the bus for no particular reason. She felt uneasy, but couldn't tell why. She wasn't anxious about going to Doughton, and wasn't afraid of anyone around her. She wasn't worried that someone would try stealing her staff, and she wasn't concerned about anything relating to the mission at all... she was just... uneasy. Still, she remained stoic and showed no signs of feeling this way. When they got to the border, it was made known that the guards would have to search the boxes in the back. The driver tried to dissuade them, but it seemed to be going poorly. Aya got up from her seat and told the driver to open the door, letting her get out and come around to where the guards were. "Pardon me, Sir." she said in a soft, innocent, and very sweet tone with a smile that could give a healthy man diabetes. "My name is Aya, and I'm a priestess from the Shrine of Judgement. These are my identification papers." She reached into her left sleeve and pulled out a rolled up page that had a piece of cylindrical wood at the top to keep the paper from crumpling. "The items in the back are designated for providing aid to the city, but lose potency when exposed to sunlight. I understand you have an obligation to ensure the safety of any beyond this point, but opening those crates would result in me having to return home to acquire more, which would lengthen the amount of time this city and their guardsmen are without them." The guards looked at each other, then at Aya's documents that had a seal at the bottom from the guy in charge at the port, then at each other again. Not much was known about the Shrine of Judgement this far east, but the guards knew an official seal when they saw it. "Can you tell us exactly what the haul is?" one of them asked. "Disinfectant, sterilizing agents and healing solvents, Sir." Aya replied. The men both looked at each other again and handed Aya her identification back. "Alright. Have a nice day, ma'am." Aya bowed to them and said "The same to you both." before going back on the bus. The only reason it worked was because Aya used a logical argument, and appealed to the guardsmen's sense of urgency. The mentioning that some of the supplies were for injured guards reduced their desire to delay their aid, and Aya's natural cute charm, level tone, and innocent demeanor all aided in reducing their guard even further. In combat, Aya was mostly useless- in negotiation, she was the devil with a silver tongue. If anyone had accused Aya of lying, she would reply with "A saint is no more worthy to judge the sins of man than a noble is to judge the plight of the impoverished... But I did not lie. The Enrelle are an infection that Mister Argi is aiding to remove, I am a healer, and it is most difficult to be stealthy in broad daylight, especially when your hiding spot is revealed." At the entrance to the airship, a woman was waiting with arms crossed, sitting on a crate. Nigh perfect skin, straight, black hair, maroon eyes, a shrine maiden's garb- a one-to-one match for Aya's appearance. Myuil immediately flew away from Aya and over to her twin and landed on her lap. "Oh dear..." Aya said with a somewhat concerned expression. She approached her sister and asked "I trust you've been on your best behavior?" Her sister shot a glare at her and said "I trust you haven't gone and fucked yourself, yet?" despite the venomous words, her expression was just as neutral as Aya's. It was almost like that kind of thing was her standard greeting. "And what's with the rat pack? Can't sleep alone?" she was obviously referring to everyone in the group. "Don't tell me you went and charmed them all into-" "I do not use my power on the undeserving, no." "Humph. I would've. Well, the old hag-" *CRACK* Aya showed her absolute first display of violent intent and malice for the entire trip by whacking her sister on the head with the broad side of her staff. "I don't care how you address me, but you will not disrespect the Shrine Mother." Ira rubbed her head and looked at Aya with a sour expression and muttered "You're lucky my magic's sealed." to which Aya said "You're lucky I didn't remove it entirely when I sealed it. Now, why are you here, how did you arrive, and were you followed?" "The old-" Aya raised her staff for swatting number two and Ira paused "-The Shrine Mother..." Aya lowered her staff "...sent me to make sure you didn't draw too much attention to the shrine. I went through the main entrance with this, and I was followed but that guy's a frozen pile of ash, now." Aya took the false ID that Ira had, noting the name was 'Joanne Du' Arches' and looked extremely official. "Very well. You are not to leave my side." Aya turned to enter the ship with Ira following behind, and Myuil flying to lay on Aya's head. Ira's head was much too dangerous for him. By this point, it would be obvious that Ira was the Yin to Aya's yang, and the only thing so far that could make Aya irritated beyond her ability to hide it. It would also be evident that Ira wasn't the respectful type... or the gentle type... or all that approachable. Some time later, while Aya and Ira were in the mess getting some food, Aya was approached by someone who was slightly unsettling but far from alarming. She asked a peculiar question, inquiring as to whom Aya served. Aya said "I serve no one, and everyone." in a very calm tone. Ira immediately said "Yo, sis. I don't like this bitch. Lemme kill 'er." to which Aya said "You will do no such thing." almost immediately after. The being's attention had turned to Argi, which was just fine with Aya since she didn't have much business to do with her. She didn't like the energy it gave off, but her distaste for it wasn't so grand that it warranted sicking her destruction-happy twin sister on her. @danzilla3 @Dauner Light @Meraxa @The Alexandrian @Thotification @Vilhardt

Rozharon Paralios @EmpressOfficial • 2 hours Visited #Norkotia to finalize trading agreements (thanks @GrandExecutor!) Decided to try the local cuisine afterwards ?? REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE plz note this tweet is not canon, not even soft canon lololol. though roz has definitely visited norkotia at some point to try out a burger.

For all her paranoia whenever and wherever the Enrele crop up, Caeceila's tactical expertise and unwholesome obsession with warfare, particularly her weakness for gambits and ignoble trickery that would compel the Witch King himself to take pause, continue to serve her well. Caeceila set the conditions of this encounter. By her command, drow technicians, under the cover of night, restored power to the Wyrm's Bane several days prior. It was her design that messengers of dubious loyalty and professionalism leak the time and location of this meeting to enemy forces. Caeceila baited the Enrele and played her part convincingly, luring as many of them into her kill zone as her ranting, raving, and the salient threat she posed could attract. She arrived in a draconic form armed to the teeth with a suite of cutting-edge weaponry to coax them out of hiding. From the onset, she challenged Hivemind Daloth, directly, at times. Her performance was magnificent, if she did say so herself, and in the end, she had her "undesired" confrontation with Hivemind Daloth. How they would rue the day they declined to parlay with Caeceila Glasmann: not that Caeceila ever intended to grant them quarter! This sea monster, what everyone else referred to as a Yuuja, had crashed Caeceila's party. Of the creature's identity, Caeceila was utterly oblivious. Whatever this sea monster is, it is a terrifying foe worthy of her respect, to be sure, and it is more than a little worrisome, Caeceila would opine, that it is, in all likelihood, capable of surviving in the waters of Genesaris and Renovatio since that implies Hivemind Daloth is well on its way to establishing a global presence. No matter. This Enrele-aligned beastie and those that must be advancing from the coast to cut off the party's retreat are destined, at the very least, to get intimate with a meat grinder, and Caeceila must content herself with that for now! Caeceila had, seemingly, abandoned the party to their own devices. Shooting the monster and blasting it with energetic crystals would, it goes without saying, draw the beast's aggro away from Caeceila, who wasted no time in racing toward the generator room. Unbeknownst to Caeceila, the party had already inflicted massive damage on the sea monster, which will impress her somewhere down the line; she figured they would deal light damage and fall back to the beach. She entered the generator room, a bulkhead slamming shut behind her, and did her part. She pressed herself against a gene-locked panel on a large, cylindrical tube coursing with mesmerizing light. Before Caeceila learned of the Enrele threat from the Symposium Against Doom, she spearheaded an effort to smother the Legion of Doom at its inception. She worked hand-in-hand with the Terrenus Military and provided some measure of air support during the Legion of Doom's Raid on Last Chance, dismantling several Legion of Doom members and the beasts they deployed to cover their retreat. In this engagement, she witnessed how effective the Terrenus Military's anti-psionic grenades and pulses were against Legion of Doom psychers and later gained access, by leveraging her position as a well-respected Terrenus Military Contractor and the heiress to House Glasmann and Glasmann Cryonics, to this technology. She had stockpiled such weapons in Hell's Gate on the off-chance the Legion of Doom ever encroached on Hell's Gate, intending to cripple Dredge by bombarding him with anti-psionic shells launched by House Glasmann artillery units showcased in her recent open house. Several of the wrecks in this relatively desolate section of Casper's shantytown had been fitted with anti-psionic ordinance by sneaky drow technicians flying Nines's banner days before. As Caeceila manually triggered this ordinance, any psychic in the area, including the Enrele, actively relying on psychic powers, like telepathy, would experience debilitating pain followed by the inability to use psychic abilities for a total of ten minutes. These invisible pulses would temporarily alter the flow of ambient magical energies in the area, yet this phenomenon imposes no disadvantage on other types of magic. Caeceila, who was never optimistic when it came to the Enrele, had saturated the area with such weaponry because she expected a full-scale army to turn up to silence Argi's task force. She had, therefore, also taken the precaution of designating this room as her safe room. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that important except that it contained the generator, anti-psionic ordinance, the trigger for her trap, and a few of her all-time favorite toy: two overcharged wands of flesh-to-stone and a sonic cannon. As Caeceila's Silver Eyes slotted these wands into the turrets mounted on her sides and affixed the sonic cannon to the end of her tail, completing her absolutely ludicrous ensemble, music blasted from speakers tucked away in wrecks across the beach. As Caeceila listened to that cover of Die, Die My Darling she, Nines, Cameila, and Iolanda had recorded during a team bonding exercise, she couldn't help but smile warmly. Nines did well with this little surprise!

Note to everyone: I will be adjusting the Sanity table (released later) so that it’s easier to succeed, especially for Sanity 2 and down. We’re having trouble over at the Child’s Play thread to do anything at all. The current table still applies until the end of this round for both realms.

to be honest I'm procrastinating on the Taen cities lore article while listening to musical soundtracks but look, more art! A more cartoony style here. Turned out pretty good. Finished considerably quicker too! This is Yau Maksur, magitech prodigy, former Tia resident.

Csl's quest to catch up with her art backlog continues. Here's the matriarch of House C'zirqonia, also current owner of the Reality cornerstone whose design is absolutely not inspired by White Diamond The family's complete now! Here's a group photo

"Keep hauling up those supplies! I don't want anything delaying us from finishing this project." Mia stood at the edge of the caldara, watching the beginnings of her greatest project to date. This would not only bring House Uldwar to the top, but it would make Ursa Madeum as a whole even greater. Ever since she had found the missing materials her father had smuggled in to Port Mars, Mia knew what she had to do to further her father's legacy. By her direction, they would become one of the largest providers of Magitech fuel in Terrenus. The gold alone will be enough to get them into prominence, with enough clout to get the young girl closer to her goals of once again being the Matriarch of her House. A tremor shook the ground beneath them, surprising them, and causing some of the pack animals to stir uneasily. "What was that?" Someone asked. "Never mind it." Mia said, looking upwards at the cloudy sky, noticing the sun at midday position. "We need to get started before it gets dark. Keep moving!" Dressed in light traveling clothes, the heat at the top of Mt. Egon was near unbearable. Water was one of the main supplies they required, and thanks to both Port Mars and Qrill, whose powerful industrial strength allowed for the parts to be crafted in the assembly of this machine. With both Marrow and Fatesbane at her waist, she didn't feel worried about a lack of armor. Taking a long sip from her canteen, she watched as they began the construction process. Yet another tremor shook the ground, even more powerful than before. This one could not be ignored, and Mia began wondering just what might be causing it. "Something doesn't feel right..." A third tremor, causing a scare among the workers and animals. It couldn't possibly be an earthquake, but then what could it- KABOOM! Molten rock spewed from the center of the caldara, going high up in the sky, enough to where it would definitely effect the area around him. Men were screaming, animals were running for their lives, and Mia was treated with a sight she thought dearly impossible. "YOU DARE TRY TO STEAL MY MAGIC?! I WILL BURN THIS ENTIRE ISLAND FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!" It was a massive thing of fire and blackened rock, as large as a castle and burning with an intense fury. The heat was coming off him in waves, forcing Mia to step back, but she refused to give up her mission. What she didn't realize was that the spirit of the volcanos work was already beginning. Misral was burning.

It appears she and her siblings have arrived too early, when before, they have always been late to the party. Perhaps this is a good omen. The Lady Hildebrand steps up to the stage with measured footfalls, gazing about the opera house with awe and nostalgia in equal measure. She recalls coming here as a child, in the golden years of the Queendom’s full glory. All of that is dust now; there is no room left in her heart for mourning or remorse. It is time to usher in a new age for the islands she calls her home, and Varda will be ready with all the strength she bears, no matter how much her heart aches ragged in the cage of her ribs. Without further ado, the Lady takes her seat, examines the agenda laid out with a considering eye. She takes one look up at the balcony towards her siblings, then to the piano where the Empress is coaxing wondrous music from its keys, then finally to the first noble seated around the table. “Miss Aveline,” she greets the Singlance representative with a warm smile; she remembers the plans they’ve yet to fulfill in the shared future they’ve imagined for Ursa Madeum: plans to modernize agriculture for the betterment not only of their houses but of the common people, and everything else that comes after. “Your brother is not here?” @notmuch_23

CLAN SHOKAN The Shokan clan was created by Shokan Eiji. a former mercenary who fought beside the Emperor; displaying great loyalty and courage. As gratitude, the Emperor has made him nobility, and given him permission to assemble his own clan. Shokan welcomes all who wish to join, so long as they pledge loyalty to the Datsuzoku. Even those who have known dishonor; ronin, disgraced nobles, bandits, can all find a new start under the banner of the Shokan. Clan Shokan only has one goal; to further the interests of the Datsuzoku Empire in any way that they can. Acting as soldiers, diplomats, and assassins, they will do whatever it takes to ensure that the nation that has become their home thrives. Shokan is always willing to help other clans, as they view them as fellow servants to the Emperor. To this end, they are willing to teach their diverse array of skills to all who serve him. |Heraldry| The Lotus is the symbol of the Shokan clan. As it symbolizes rebirth, the members of the clan are reborn from their past lives into their new ones in service to the Empire. |Credo| "Redemption through service." |Organization| The Clan is made up of three branches; Sento (Warefare), Surveillance (Kanshi), and Diplomacy (Gaiko). Each branch has a leader who oversees their division's operation, and reports back to the leader of the clan. All branches have a school that teaches their particular skills to others. Sento is responsible for the clans military duties. Kanshi handles covert operations such as spying and assassination. Gaiko trains their diplomats who interact with other clans, and on behalf of the Datsuzoku. |Divisions and Offices| SENTO (Warfare) The Sento branch is responsible for training and managing the clans samurai and other warriors. In addition to multiple martial disciplines, this branch also is responsible for teaching things like strategy and tactics, as well as battlefield medicine. In short, if a skill could be considered vital to surviving on the battlefield, it is taught here. KANSHI (Surveillance) The Kanshi branch mages the clans intelligence operations, and trains and manages the clans shinobi. Here members and allies can learn spycraft, assassination, and other covert arts. While all branches are open to any who would join, potential members of Kanshi are scrutinized more harshly then candidates for other prospective branches. GAIKO (Diplomacy) The Gaiko branch houses the clans diplomats known as Daijin (Ministers), and are responsible for relations with the other clans. Like the other branches, they teach diplomatic skills to other members of the clan as well as its allies. |Rank, Reputation, & Advancement| CLAN HEAD The leader of the clan. All other members report to him Currently held by: Shokan Eiji BRANCH HEAD The leader of one of the Branches, responsible for overseeing their Branch. SENTO (The General): Aegis Rishagi KANSHI (The Spymaster): So Chan GAIKO: (The Ambassador): Odokizashi Saki SAMURAI/SHINOBI/DAIJIN The most experienced and skilled members of the Branches. They are often put in charge of squads of apprentices (Minarai) SENSEI The rank given to the instructors at the three schools. This rank is equal to that of any of the three ranks above. MINARAI An apprentice, the foot soldiers of each branch. They have gained enough skill to no longer be considered a mere student, but are not skilled enough to be a Samurai/Shinobi/Daijin. Minarai Kanshi: Shi Ku STUDENT The lowest rank. Every new member starts out here, unless they can present a reason why they should be allowed to skip ahead. |Indoctrination| Message danzilla3 |Allies and Enemies|Primary Location:Affiliations:— Allies: N/A— Enemies: N/A— Neutral Parties: N/AGoals and Activities TBA Accomplishments Acquired an airship laden with treasure from Whispernight. Current Plans Preparing to attack Strider City.

Current day... The squad was fairly spread-out once again, save for one major change that had been implemented on Lieutenant Precht's orders (which were orders relayed down from Major Krieger, the man in overall command of Norkotian forces in Yh'mi). All Norkotian soldiers were now required to operate in a buddy system at all times, and were only allowed to go outside of secured zones in groups of four or more. This was in order to combat future Twistling infiltration, which Krieger would not tolerate happening in the future. Murray's squad had drawn straws to see who went with who, since most of them didn't really like each-other enough to give a shit. So when Charlie decided to make his move on Melanie Winter, she was not alone. Sitting across from her was one of the non-criminal Rangers, a rather boisterous ex-mercenary named Hudson. He appeared to be the most battle-read, with a suit of some sort of armor (likely acquired outside of Norkotia) one of those nasty Jorgerson Submachineguns (one of which had been used to great effect against the wagons by the twistlings days ago). Though he didn't actually try to stop Charlie's approach or anything, perhaps being as curious as Ed was about how badly this exchange could go... "Hm?" Melanie turned around, a certain wild, but oddly innocent curiosity in her eyes, "Wha--- Oh! You are on fire!" She smiled broadly as she stood up and snatched her flamethrower from where it was leaning against a crate. A couple flicks of switches and a small, blue pilot light appeared at the end of one of the tubes, which was there to ignite the flammable vapors when they were expelled through the main tube. "And you're not screaming in horror! Are you immune to fire? Is that even possible? Can I test it? Can I set you on fire? Will you let me set you on fire? I think I'm gonna set you on fire!" She babbled on in an almost childishly excited voice, before activating her looks-like-it-was-made-by-a-Canadian-redneck-with-ducttape-flamethrower and attempting to set Charlie on fire. Guess this relationship was off to a roaring start. Very steamy indeed. I mean the heat between them is almost tangible. Actually it is. It just melts the heart, doesn't it? Meanwhile, in the food tent... Somehow, Scoot had either gotten to be the luckiest (or least luckiest) man in the camp, having gotten paired off with one of the most attractive women in the camp. Unfortunately, she was also one of the woman most likely to end the manhood (if she's feeling generous) of any given man in the camp. But the draw (and your humble author would like to emphasize that it was a legitimately random pairing) had put the two of them together, which meant... well... maybe fate was trying to tell Scoot something? "So uh... Jessica..." "Don't call me that. I fucking hate that name, I much prefer Jessie." the ex-hitwoman replied, not even looking up from her rations. "Oh-uh, okay. So, Jessie..." "First name basis is a little too familiar, don't you think, Corporal Deckel?" she retorted. "Uhhh... okay, Ms. Briggs..." "Please refer to me by my rank, Corporal. I understand you outrank me, but I insist upon being afforded the title I am owed. Just because I am a woman does not mean you can disregard it." Jessie stated, still not looking up from her food. "Duh... so... Private Briggs--" "Private First Class." "Huggh... Private First Class Jessica--" "Jessie." "Private First Class Jessie Briggs!" Scoot practically shouted, slamming his palm against the table. Jessie finally looked up. "Yes sir, corporal?" "..." "..." "Uhhhhhh... I gotta tray of chicken...?"

The SQUAAAAAD Rides Again… Yesterday... Due to some inexplicable circumstances, Jack Murray’s Ranger squad had not been assigned any communication equipment when they were sent out to help protect the Furthest Point Expedition. Why this was, nobody was sure, though one can speculate it was because the idiots forgot to bring said equipment, or because they were intentionally never assigned any because their commanders didn’t want to waste said equipment on a people they were expecting to die anyway. Whatever the case, when the second wave arrived at the camp, the Norkotian forces accompanying the resupply wagons consisted of just a single squad of engineers and their gear. However, those engineers did have communication equipment, which they used to radio back to command and request replacement soldiers for Murray’s unit. Those replacements were scheduled to arrive today… But in the meantime, recently promoted (because there was nobody else left to promote) Corporal Scott “Scoot” Deckel, also known as the “cap guy”, was trying to pass the time by observing the engineers at work. Or something like that. “But chief, I’m fairly certain with the proper amount of research and study, we could learn why it is that this land rejects us, and find a way to make peace with it. Clearly many of these creatures have the rudimentary ability to reason, so perhaps if we--” the young, skinny, glass-wearing nerd of an engineer was explaining, before his sergeant cut him off. “Look buddy, we’re engineers, that means we solve problems. Not problems like, “Why is Yh’mi evil?”, because that would fall under the purview of religious theology. We solve practical problems. For instance, how are we gonna stop a horde of chittering mother-buggers from bustin’ in here and tearin’ us all some structurally superfluous new behinds? The answer?” Chief turned around and pulled a thirty-caliber machinegun from out of the crate behind him and dropped it with a loud thud on the workbench in front of him. “Use a gun! And if that don’t work…” He turned around again and pulled a fifty-caliber machinegun from out of the crate and dropped it with an even louder thud on the workbench next to the thirty. “Use MORE gun!” “Uh, but… how does that…?” “Now you just go plant yourself on that darn communication station thar’ mister, and leave the thinkin’ to me.” Deckel shook his head, wondering why command would send this sorry bunch of losers out into a place like this. But he supposed that not everyone could be as daring and dashing as him. “SCOOT!” The sound of Murray’s voice from elsewhere in the camp reached the speedy man’s ears. This probably meant their replacements had arrived, and Scoot was eager to assert himself as Murray’s right-hand command shounter. Kicking up a small cloud of dust, Cpl. Deckel was off, bolting across the camp (nearly running over a person or two) and arriving next to Sergeant Jack Murray, his superior, and the only other Norkotian survivor of the original expedition force. Murray was now recovered from his injuries, though his mentality perhaps had not. He seemed a much more serious and graver man after watching his entire squad killed in front of him. Even when he was riding with bandit gangs in the Norkotian badlands, he had never seen a company so completely decimated as his had been. And what was worse, he was the leader, and thus, he was responsible. “Hey boss! Whassup?” Scoot inquired, as he skidded to a halt and kicked up even more dust. “Our replacements have arrived.” Murray pointed-out. A small Norkotian convoy had been admitted into the camp, consisting of two trucks, a jeep, an armored car and few horses. They were not here to stay, only to drop off reinforcements and supplies, before heading back to the Inns’th. A regular officer bearing the insignia of a captain stepped out of the jeep and approached the two Rangers. “Sergeant Murray?” the officer saluted, “Captain Smith, here to deliver your… heh heh… reinforcements.” “Heh heh huh, what’s so funny dare, captain?” Deckel wondered. “Hmm, was I laughing?” Smith feigned innocence, “Alright boys, unload them!” Some grunts riding in the jeep and the second truck disembarked, heading to the back of the front vehicle and pulling down the tailgate. A ragtag group of men and women were subsequently unloaded, eight in total. Except for the last two, all of them were cuffed and chained together. “Uhhh, is dere a reason our reinforcements are in like dat?” Deckel scratched his head. “Feast your eyes upon your new squad, sergeant.” Captain Smith mocked, “Except for Hudson and Wilhelm there, this is the best bunch of crazies and criminals the military had to offer. Command figured you were the only one capable of… handling them…” Murray may have been a little crazy, but he wasn’t a moron. The only reason these people were here was because command didn’t know what else to do with them. His old squad was kind of like that, but even so, most of those men were capable, semi-sane sorts. This group… The supply convoy left soon after unloading their passengers and gear (including the squad’s weapons), which also included a lieutenant that was supposed to be in overall command of both squads. He immediately called a meeting with Murray and Chief to get a full status report and get himself acquainted with his subordinates. In the meantime, Deckel was free to socialize with his new squadmates… Begin Suicide Squad-style intro scenes, except with people who actually have potentially useful skills and/or weapons. “So, yo a sniper, huh?” Scoot questioned. “Yes sirree! I’ve been shooting since I was just a kid, so it seemed a shame to not make a career out of it when I grew up. Why, I’d argue I was the best bounty killer on the Norkic Plateau not named Mara Mercer. Or, at least the highest scoring one.” the Ranger replied. “Uh-huh, sure. If yo so good, let’s see a demonstration.” Scoot pointed at a thick, cast-iron frying pan dangling from a rack across the camp. “No problemo!” the Ranger grinned, pulling out his single-shot, breech-loading rifle and taking aim. *BANG* A dent appeared on the pan. *DEFLECT* A chip was shattered off part of the nearby stone wall. *BOUNCE* A small whiff of dust was kicked off the ground. *CLANG* A divot appeared in a on a White Hand breastplate that was currently sitting in hanging from a rack in the supply depot. *PFFT* Scoot's hat went flying off his head. "Hey! What the!?" He turned around and rushed over to grab it, finding a gaping hole in the fabric, just above where his head might have been. "Oh... eh-heh, sorry about that." the Ranger chuckled sheepishly. "You damaged my hat! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" Well, maybe Scoot was in luck; one of the new squad members was a medic, so perhaps he could patch up the damaged hat with his stitching equipment. He found the supposed medic sitting near a fire, trying to avoid contact with everyone. "Hey, doc!" Scoot scurried over and hopped into a seat next to him, "Yo uh, you think you could patch something up for me?" "I-I-I don't think I'd be able to help you." the medic gulped nervously. "Wuh, why not? You're tha' medic, right? Com'n, all I need is my hat sewed up." Scoot explained, dangling the headgear in front of the medic. "I can't. P-p-please just leave me alone." "Hey, what gives? Isn't it yo job to help people, doc? Come on, you gotta have some sorta sewing supplies in 'dere somewhere." he motioned at the medic's bag. "N-no! I don't have anything that can help you!" the doctor protested. "Oh really, let me have a look 'den!" Scoot snatched the bag away, despite the doctor's wimpy attempts to stop him, "Let's see we have... a tiny metal hook? A miniature mirror? And... what's 'dis!?" "It's dental floss! I keep t-t-telling you people! I'm not a doctor! I'm a dentist!" the poor "medic" proclaimed. "Wuuuuhhh..." Well, Deckel got what he wanted. He stole Pvt. Knox's "dental floss" and that little metal poker thing and used them to temporarily stitch the hole in his cap shut. Now he was back to wandering the camp, and getting a little hungry while doing it. Deciding to head over and sneak some rations out of the supply tent, he adjusted his course toward the big grey tent that the Norkotians were using to store their supplies. However, before he could enter, someone abruptly stepped into his path. "Hold it right there, maggot! This area is restricted to authorized personnel only!" The man in Deckel's path was another of the new arrivals. A gruff man in a grey Norkotian soldier's uniform and a helmet that covered his eyes, this fellow appeared to be a dim-witted grunt if there ever was one. Over his shoulder he was carrying a homemade rocket launcher, constructed of mismatched (but sturdy-looking) pikes, fittings and miscellaneous metal components. "Ya know, uh... I'm a corporal, so that means I outrank you. So, I order you to step aside and let me in!" Scoot puffed out his chest. "Negatory, sir! My orders come from the top! No one is to access this tent unless carrying expressed written orders from Lieutenant Precht!" "What? Who's dat?" "The commanding officer of the 1st Expeditionary Platoon. Now, return to your post immediately, or I will report you for loitering!" the domineering soldier barked. Well, this was a problem. Scoot was hungry, but he had no rations handy. He needed to get in that tent, but this bozo was not going to let him. Luckily, Scoot was an expert at outrunning nitwits like this! "Hey look, a chhitten!" he suddenly pointed in a random direction. "WHERE!?" the grunt instantly pivoted in that direction. Deckel promptly charged into the tent, snatched some rations, then tried to scurry back out. Unfortunately, he either overestimated himself, or underestimated the soldier, as he was met with a trench shovel to the face the moment he tried to emerge. *CLANG* *THUD* "OW!" "So, you're trying to steal the BREAD, are you!?" the soldier growled, reaching down and reclaiming the stolen rations, "Looks like we got a traitor!" "Uh wut...?" the dizzy Scoot groaned. "Any last words, maggot?" the grunt inquired, lowering the barrel of his rocket launcher at Scoot. "Duh-huh!? Wuh-wuh, no way! You don't need to do that!" Deckel scrambled to his feet and made a run for it, "WWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" The grunt just lowered his rocket launcher and snickered as Scoot made tracks. "Muh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh." So by now, Deckel was getting a little tired of dealing with his new squadmates. But his spirits brightened when he realized that the next one up was a girl. Girls were supposed to be sweet, kind and understanding (except for drow), as Deckel understood them, so surely he would not run into the type of problems he ran into with his male compatriots! And better yet, the woman he was approaching was a real looker, with long, wavy brown hair, a well-toned figure, and an attractive face. Though, her choice of clothing was a bit odd, admittedly. Her wardrobe choices included a pair of grey cargo pants, a black t-shirt, a grey flatcap and a white nasal strip (allergies). A chrome lever-action rifle with a black, synthetic stock was slung over her back, while in her hand she was holding a square stone of some sort. Well, Scoot didn't have a bucket of chicken (his traditional flirting method), but that wasn't gonna stop him. "Heh-hey 'dere. 'Sup?" he sat down and lounged in place, "So, what's a lovely lady like you doin' in a ugly place like 'dis?" "Serving my time." the woman replied, "And I don't find this place ugly." "Oh, uh, well... sure, yeah, I agree with ya. Not ugly! That's just what da others say, but... heh, yeah, whatta they know?" Scoot laughed it off, "Say, maybe I could give ya a tour of the base... maybe take ya up on the walls. See all the not-ugly sights?" "I can find my own way around." the woman replied. "Uh... oh, I mean, yeah sure... I wasn't doubting you ability for a second. I was just thinking..." Scoot trailed-off as the woman pulled out a large blade and began sharpening it on a sharpening stone. "Uh... uh, nice sword." "It's not a sword, it's a machete." the woman rolled her eyes. "Oh, machete, right, right... wait, why do ya have a machete? Aren't those for choppin' jungle brush?" Deckel questioned. The woman abruptly stopped sharpening the blade and looked up at him. "Not where I come from." "What do you use them for where you co--" Deckel started to ask. *WHOOSH* *THUD* Scoot went deathly silent as the machete was suddenly thrown the distance between them, embedding in the stump he was sitting on... right between his legs. Had it landed just a little higher... "Oh, uh, yeah! Yeah, that makes sense!" Scoot laughed, now starting to sweat, "Here, lemme get it... out..." He tried to pull the machete free of the wood, but his noodle arms (Charlie was right about one thing this trip) could not wrench it free. This prompted the woman to stand up, walk over, grab the handle, and rip it free. Without another word, she walked back to her previous seat and resumed sharpening it. "Yeah uh, well... nice meetin' you." Scoot rubbed the back of his head nervously, as he stood up and quickly exited. The woman finally cracked a smile now that Scoot was gone, as she rubbed her finger across the blood-stained machete blade to test the sharpness. "I like this place." "Jeez, this day sucks..." Scoot grumbled. His hat was being held together by dental floss, his stomach was growling, his face was hurting, and his pride was hurting even more. He would take anything to brighten up this day. "Oof!" He accidentally bumped into someone who was going the opposite way he was. That someone was another of his squadmates, and as luck would have it, it was another woman. This one had long, raven-black hair and dark, bloodshot eyes, while tattoos of fire ran all up and down her arms. A tank of some sort was stretched to her back, while she was carrying a very long, oddly-shaped weapon. Still, she was pretty, in her own exotic, strange way. "He-heya beautiful! What's up?" he grinned stupidly. "Heya, flammable!" the woman smiled back, her eyes going wide, "The temperature!" She raised her weapon, prompting Deckel to realize it was a flamethrower. "Oh no! AAAAAAAHHHHH!" He didn't want something to light up his day like that! Needless to say, he was kicking up dust (again) as he ran for hills. Actually, heading for the hills around here is a bad idea, so he just decided to take that walk on the wall all by his lonesome. That left the woman standing there, blinking in confusion. "Aww... why don't boys like me...?" At this point, Deckel was about at his wits end. He'd had a bad enough day that the sight of the haunting, desolate, cursed landscape outside the fort was actually soothing, in a way. He stood there a while and just watched as the moon began to rise in the distance, at least until he caught a figure a bit further down the wall. They were wearing a cowboy hat, so they had to be Norkotian. And as their poncho blew in the wind, he saw the outline of a feminine figure. Oh right, there was one other woman among their new recruits. Well, three strikes before you're out, right? Slinking over to her, he leaned against the battlements and tried to look as macho as he could muster. She wasn't the prettiest of the three women in the squad, being a little older and looking a lot more weathered. Nobody knew her name, but people referred to her as "Blondie" based on her short, fair hair. A faintly glowing cigar hung from her mouth as her narrow eyes stared out across the barren landscape. "Heya babe, it's a bit lonely to be out here by yourself, isn't it?" Deckel spoke-up. There was no answer. "Yeah, uh, so... it's getting a bit cool tonight. Maybe we could head to the fires..." Still no response. "O-or we could just stay here, yeah. Dat's fine. So uh... has anyone ever told you that you've got beautiful eyes?" Still nothing. "Um... I like your hat?" "Bug." "Wut?" Suddenly, the woman cast her poncho aside and whipped out her revolver. *BAM!* There was a faint shriek of a chhitten squealing somewhere outside the walls. How the heck had she seen it, reacted so fast, and managed to hit it with a handgun? You know what, that's actually the least craziest thing Deckel has seen today. "You know uh, I'm think I'm just gonna... go to bed. Uh, good night." he sighed. Yeah, good night Scoot. Good night...

Fixed it again. I hope it sticks this time. Here's an old pencil sketch of one of Cassandra's monsters for the inconvenience. <3 Also the thought of Valucre having stories is hilarious omg. I'm making a meme of this at some point.

The horde of the living dead would be halted at Landonia. That was Nathan’s promise to himself and to the people of this country. The Watchers airship landed just outside the city walls and found its defenders were already preparing for war, but the perfectionist streak in him was adamant this would not be enough. Seeing as how they had arrived before the hordes, the Watchers saw fit to ready themselves in their own way. Arthur stretched out his limbs and cracked his knuckles, then took turns sharpening his spear. There was no trace of fear on his face as he did so, only grim determination. Max was kneeling on the top of the wall, praying, his swords glowing with holy fire, as if in anticipation. No doubt he would relish the chance to use them again. Gale was chanting in the Fairy language whilst pacing back and forth, his grip on his sword uneasy. Every so often he would pause and take a drink from his canteen. Seeing as how his power was over water, it made sense he would want to be well hydrated. Elias sat cross legged at Nathan’s side, his eyes shut in deep meditation. His usually cheery smile was absent; replaced instead by a mask of careful blankness. Nathan himself stood silently, watching the horizon for any sign of foes, but saw fit to give a short speech. He raised his arms, making sure he had his brothers attention before he spoke. ”Defenders of Landonia, Watchers, my brothers of the sword. To lead you has been my honor. You all have my heartfelt gratitude for your aid today. No doubt the enemy will have no such thanks. No, they are trembling in fear of our strength.’ ’Let no man or demon forget how menacing we are. We are the mightiest heroes on Valucre! Separate we are strong, but united we are undefeatable! Together, we will break this army here. Together, we will not fail!’ He drew his sword. “So I say let them come! Let them come! Watchers are you with me!?” The other four drew their weapons in salute. “We are with you, Nathan!” They cried. Nodding in satisfaction, Nathan turned back to the horizon. In his head, he knew that despite his bravado, there was a chance this would be their final day. This might well be the end of the Watchers. Then it will be the noblest ending in history. He thought.

frey soloveiv Frey Soloviev is a fucking champ at beer pong but is quite sadly a bloody lightweight, by college-student-standards. It has its uses: mainly employed to immediately forget whatever shitty thing is happening in the series of unfortunate events that is his life, wrenched hangovers and morning-afters aside. Curse his genes, really, but not really, at least not out loud; his old folks are spectres now, but it doesn’t mean they can’t hear him. Especially when he's drunk and high off his rocker on a weekday, because fuck weekdays. “Go away, Ghost,” he waves his hands, shooing something unseen away from his immediate vicinity as he crawls on the floor, trying to get his bearings. The world wobbles—or is it himself; he’s not quite sure, but self-shifting floors are Not To Be Trusted at any moment in the history of the world and the universe, blah-di-dah-di-dah—as Frey rights himself up to stand, and he surveys the room he has fallen asleep in: Elias’ dorm room, which, fine, is one of the few safe places at this point in time at Bronte, never mind that he just got here, like, yesterday. He stumbles over to the glass tank and wriggles his fingers in front of the self-dubbed Tongue Plant Elias is growing, wincing a bit when it lashes its tendril at him in a chastising way, most likely due to his current fucked-up state. “Sauriel on a pike, that hurts,” he complains, but really, he’s touched in a weird way; trust a Soloviev to make an uneasy friendship with a peculiar plant, of all things. So, after a few moments of standing around like a dumbass trying to ward off the worst of his hangover-slash-comedown, Frey decides to make a list, because lists are wonderful things. An assorted list of things currently on Frey Soloveiv’s person as of Monday, 8:32am: A pack of high-end Rotrio cigars, stolen from a professor’s coat yesterday. Handcuffs. Don’t ask. Twelve bobby pins. A crumpled suit-and-tie ensemble, sleek and dark, one sleeve stained blue with Gaia-knows-what. Tattoos all over, because he has to keep track of them; can’t have his tattoos running off onto someone else’s skin now, can he? Satisfied with the list, he huffs and salutes the glass tank before moving away, intending to get to his own dorm room before Elias notices him hanging around like a fool all over his rug. He still can’t help but swipe a jar of slugs, though, because fuck Elias; his recent transaction with Frey had been a complete disaster on account of that vampire girl he had brought along to taste-test the merchandise. Stupid vampires. On second thought, Elias’ fuck shall be rescinded and given to the vampire girl instead. Just as he gets to the door, he absentmindedly pats himself down to check his pockets—and freezes, suddenly furious. An assorted list of things currently not on Frey Soloveiv’s person as of Monday, 8:32am: His fucking bag of Amarancht weed. “Elias?” The query is met with silence, and a deep grimace carves itself above Frey’s rather pointy jawline. “Where the fuck—Elias?” Again, he is unanswered, and after a shared commiserating glance with the Tongue Plant, he pushes out the door. The sudden hasty movements drum up an aching throb in his head, and Frey just barely manages to catch himself on the wall, idiotic dunce that he is. He has found Elias, but at what cost? “Hey, hey,” he manages, looking up to glare daggers at the back of Elias’ head before the man thinks to turn and look over to him. “Where’s my Amarancht, hey?” Whether the other door opens or not is none of Frey’s concern; he just wants his fucking weed.

"And to get it out of the way, yes. We opened pandora's box, yes." [Brett] "So you unleashed the horrors upon the world that ended many lives. So much lost and gone, families dead, little survivors and even less amount of hope! I watched my entire crew die right before my eyes. One of my best friends was torn in half, my other friend was squashed by titan, there's nothing left of him by the way, and my daughter was literally eaten alive! You give me a reason why I should help you. Look, sorry for you blokes here to see that outburst but I have extreme emotions for what has happened during these years and now knowing they are the ones who caused this shite to happen but I'd be surprised that those of who have lost loved ones right in front of you and you not want to yell or something." [Blaze] "I have spoken to many dead during these years of being alone, you have done something unforgivable and deserve to be cut down where you stand. So yes, give us a reason to help, and me one to not take your souls." [Ivan] Teresa's jaw nearly dropped at the absolute emotional stupidity the man and woman next to her were allowing to spew from their mouths. It was truly amazing how not even the harshest of times increased awareness and observational abilities. Instead, however, Teresa just scoffed. Loudly. "Bunch of goddamned bleeding hearts, huh? We've all lost things important to us, get the fuck over it," she said with barely a look in their direction. "They're the VCF; everyone already knows the VCF caused the world to go to fuck. The os-01 message said as much and that shit's been around for years." Teresa whipped out her walkie and shook it in their direction as she mentioned the message, replaying the beginning. "Start priotizing the world over your own inconsequential emotions. And reason? Are you deaf or has this place turned your memory to mush? The only reason any of us bothered to carry our asses to this gaia-forsaken piece of shit city is because they've said there's a device here that can alter the timeline." She drew her sword and positioned herself between Dr. Brett and the two angry travelers looking ready to fight. "And if you continue to threaten the only people who can potentially fix this shitty world, I will fight to my very last breath to make sure both you die before you can get your blind revenge. Teresa's white-blood stained wings expanded, blocking all view of Brett from the other two, her eyes set hard as her killing intent encompassed the room with a heavy, suffocating pressure . No one would get in her way. Not since she'd finally found a potential solution. Everyone should have heard the same message and known that this was probably their last chance to fix the world. Why they would threaten their salvation was beyond Teresa. What was the point of revenge in the face of being able to make it so that none of it ever happened? But in the case that it failed and nothing changed, well, then and only then, would the doctors behind her pay with their blood. But only then.

"I trust the Wyrm's Bane is secure as much as I trust you lot." Glasmann stabbed, and after blatantly dropping the name of Elizabeth's employer no less. Liz raised a brow as Ms. Glasmann finished goading the company in a commanding fashion. She viewed Glasmann as a liability at this point, chuckling in a childish nod towards her "propositions." Elizabeth had already made up her mind, the answer already more than apparent to the heiress, she was sure. Still, cooperation was the obligation of the doctors presence, and after listening to a few people refuse Glasmann's offer Elizabeth took a moment to respond with a tactful medium. She had a few idea's in mind, stemming from her research into bio-arcane correlation, and the relevance of binary wavelength extensions. These sorts of sciences, or perhaps magics, were often heralded as complex, dangerous, almost heretic. Yet, their applications were fundamental to a scientific breakthrough; a world of tomorrow which few could imagine. "If passing your exams are assurance that I will be identified by the government as a Non-Enrele citizen then I will accept your proposal Ms. Glasmann. My terms of cooperation however, are in the air." Elizabeth taunted, swaying her right hand across the room towards the others in a cautious fashion, as if appealing to them in some way. Elizabeth knew that in some degree, that someone else here truly wanted to help the nation. Perhaps it was the lunatic Argi, perhaps the soldier Emile, the meat head Dauner, or one of the ladies present; but Glasmann, well.. Elizabeth thought otherwise. This whole ordeal stunk of a corporate regiment, something Patton herself aimed to assemble, and a bid for endorsement power and recognition. Liz was guilty of these aspirations, and had no choice but to play hardball in order to ensure that she and Ventrix Technologies would recieve their due credit in any hand dealt. In short, Caeceila Glasmann was a powerhouse figure, one that Elizabeth refused stubbornly to be overshadowed by.

This is Aligoria: https://www.valucre.com/topic/40457-faction-the-kingdom-of-aligoria/ It's located on the western coast of Terrenus, which you can see better on the landing page: https://www.valucre.com/lore.html/terrenus/terrenus-landing-page/ Aligoria's primary export is tea. Well I know wars have been fought for tea, and I figure if it's good enough for war it's good enough to steal So who can hit one of these shipments and make away with the goods? p.s. - I don't intend to play in this thread, just give a certain kind of character a goal and reason to band together with similar types

With a grunt and sheer force of will, Leo dragged himself out of the nightmare visions caused by the banshee screams. He took in the situation; everyone was in a grim place, but none so grim as the one facing the Norkortian SQUAAAD. They were the only people capable of securing the path away from the horrible buzzsaw monster, yet they were surrounded by disgusting flaming corpses. A quick calculation ran through his mind as he determined how he could best aid his compatriots in their survival. The answer, of course, was to take his shirt off. Nothing else really occurred to him. "Friends!" he called out to the Norkortians, "Let the beauty of Gaia inspire you!" He struck a pose, intending to let his rippling muscles escape the bounds of his vest and bring hopefulness to the embattled soldiers. Sadly, his muscles had cooled off during his lengthy period of inaction, and he hadn't properly stretched again. What is this, you ask? Stretching? Does the mighty lion of the savanna take time to do stretches before it chases and pounces upon the tasty gazelle? Of course not. That's why the incidence of back and groin sprains in lions is so high. A hot, tearing sensation laced its way across Leo's shoulder. "OW! FUCK! Seriously??" he groaned. Alas, he didn't have time to dig out his ice pack. The SQUAAD was doomed if he couldn't pull through. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he tried again. He flexed like his life depended on it -- ignoring the searing agony in his deltoid -- and his vest shredded under the pressure of his expanding muscles. He posed, his face a stoic mask in spite of his injury, and he could see the light in the Squaaad's eyes as they beheld such an awe-inspiring spectacle and lifted their weapons with renewed vigor. They'd be fine.

Erin final part of art trade with @Tyler His end of the trade is here Process was different from my other works because I did the shading with pen and paper (see the original sketch above) and used overlay/multiply/color layers to color. I also had to redo the hair per request and it turned out pretty good. I feel I'm improving in terms of drawing hair, and shading clothes.

The little one was quiet, a strange change to one so full of curiosity that nearly spills from her very being. She had wanted to see the whole goings on due to the hum about the ceremony. There was so much to be said about it, making the adults get all dressed up in celebration and the commoners itch with anticipation. There was absolutely no way she was going to allow her father just to enjoy this moment without her being there, not when she can learn so much about these parties adults fear and enjoy so much. Within the shadows, the little one lurked, weaving through the legs of bystanders and slipping by hovering forms with too much ease. Not a day of training, but already she was allowing the natural flow of the world around her to push and pull her. The intricacies of what she is have made the little one aware of how much of the worlds magic and life flows through her, but the understanding of such eludes her sweet mind. What matters, according to her mother, is how wide she smiles, how loud she laughs, and how proud she makes her father. Everything else will come in time, and with that in mind, there is no need to rush to become a more magnificent piece to the puzzle that's her family lineage. Beside him, the shadows shift to reveal the delicate form of Kaori who had a ready smile pasted on her face. Dressed appropriately for a child with high honors attached to her name, and not like a child who had rolled in mud hours before or stomped through flower gardens chasing frogs. Grabbing handfuls of the delicate fabric, the child climbed into her father's lap with as much grace as a toddler can ever muster. The flower charms attached to the pin in her hair swung back and forth, creating a small tune as she gets comfortable in her proclaimed seat. "Pèrtè!" The Renovatian word for Father slid past her lips with ease, and the proud achievement was exemplified by a small giggle followed by a kiss to her father's cheek. Celine had been teaching her both languages, but Kaori found the Renovatian lilt to be more fun in comparison to her father's language. He had yet to say anything about what he'd prefer her to say, what language would better her as his child and make him proud, so she followed her mother's advice under otherwise told. Happy, the toddler sat up to look over the edge of the balcony. The entire scene of wonderment was unfolding before her, yet the little one did not appear at all interested in any of it. Maybe living a rather luxurious life has dampened her excitement towards anything this grand, or perhaps her childish mind was far too occupied by something else. When she found what she was looking for, her honey-colored eyes became bright, and the excitement she had withheld was soon released. "Ozu! Ozu!" She waved her arms excitedly, thinking he'd see her wave at him with all her might.

Aveline just leaned back, stunned, and disgusted at herself for just doing what she often accuses Thurgood of: acting without fully appreciating the concequences. It had been before Thurgood even thought about helping Ursa Madeum recover, and it's the kind of merc job that seemed perfectly suited to her abilities. Of course there's a pistol holstered on her belt, there always is, which likely went unnoticed due to its constant presence. Aveline starts thinking of how the fuck she's gonna get herself out of this one. The mag in her new 1911 and the two in the pouches only have 32 poly-capped hollow-point rounds among them, but each one has a charge of nitricellulose, which some magical bullshit in Terrenus makes shooting a dangerous risk, but dying while fighting doesn't seem as bad as rotting away in prison waiting for a kangaroo trial to find her guilty of everything Damien Gilluck did, Analea Decameron's murder, and a fuckton of bullshit that never happened.

alternatively

Kalmuli had taken a place not far from the Emperor but out of arm's reach of the small circle of followers with him. Kei, knowing of the rumors of the conflict, looked visibly uncomfortable. She furrowed her brow a little, reaching over and giving his arm a little pat. "I can handle things from here...I'll ask for you again should I need someone with me."She said, but he shook his head. "Ah, I'll be fine, Kalmuli-sama. It's just...very intense right now. It's almost smothering."Kei responded, Kalmuli looking back to the Datsuzoku Emperor and his wife. Her eyes looked more upward to Akako but her posture stiffened. There was a familiar voice behind her and she craned her head slowly to look at the familiar monk. Talk about a blast from the past. "Kalmuli-sama? Something wrong?"The young tengu asked. "Ah...just an old face. Though, the first time I met him, he had a basket on his head and I was not in the best of shape. I thought he was a talking basket."Kalmuli said, though she quickly turned around. Reaching up, she pulled down the cat mark over her eyes to cover half of her face. When she had originally met Tenkai, she had been a different person. It was a different time...though, it was not something she was connected with anymore. "Oh...may I ask if he was..."Kei asked and Kalmuli immediately shook her head, the bells on the mask jingling madly. "Oh goodness no! He's a monk...Even I have limits."She said, waving her hands. "Though he's one of the few I have good memories of from long, long ago for me. It's rather sad I can't really connect to that anymore." "What's stopping you?" "Pain...and a paradox." The young tengu guard fell silent and Kalmuli looked back around to watch the monk and his companion start to move a little closer. Maybe she could try reconnecting with someone again...someone that was more an acquaintance than someone intimate. She would turn, heading down to where the pair were. Giving a small bow to the two men, she would speak a tad more softly to Tenkai. "Excuse me...you wouldn't happen to be a monk by chance? May I ask a favor of you?"She inquired. "I could use some...spiritual reassurance. I know it's a festival but...it would help me right now." @Tenkai Matsumoto @Twitterpated @Voldemort @Akako Akari

The jungle remained silent, which seemed to make the heat and humidity somehow more oppressive. Sweat dripped into eyes and coated palms, and the few people who had attempted the bridge seemed frozen at the twenty-foot mark. Ropes creaked. Was the bridge sagging a little more than it had been earlier? Was it looser, or swinging slightly more freely? It was impossible to tell for sure. It seemed stable... ish... for the moment...? Or maybe it was just the primal fear of a long drop into unknown danger creating the illusion of greater instability? And perhaps the silence was creating the illusion of sounds -- soft, airy sounds, at intervals just regular enough to be noticed, but just irregular enough that a person would come to the conclusion that they had heard nothing at all before another whiff crept through the fog. That person would strain yet again, trying to hear, trying to time out when to expect another, decide it was nothing, and then whiff. It was reminiscent of something moving sharply, quickly, through still air... if it could be called a sound at all... whiff

@supernal I want to have an event of sorts as a send off for my 14 year old OC. I haven't been able to write much lately due to a bad mental stigma associated with it, but recently I was given an idea and its been churning in my mind for weeks. Basically, need to make sure this would be approved (You have given me permission to state in my posts before that my character possessed a means with which to cross universes/worlds using portals created by his goddess), But essentially I would like to have a massive, cursed clocktower be ripped from its normal location of Gaia Prime and dumped out somewhere in the Terrenus wilds or near Predator's Keep. The tower itself recreates events and memories for anyone standing upon the moving gears at the tower's highest level, behind the clock's face. My character, tormented by his past, returned to the tower to try and relive memories he had long buried, but the goddess who torments him twists the magic of the clocktower and forces Vince and whoever else may be in the vicinity to physically relive those events, the events themselves being corrupted recreations of Vince's actual memories in order to drive him further off the edge. I have another OC who is related to Vince, which I would use to kickstart the thread/event and lead people into the clocktower after its sudden appearance, his goal/intent to find out why the clocktower was now in Valucre [having also been familiar with the clocktower.], and why his adopted father was using his [suspected] innate magic to twist the cursed sorcery even farther. The event would have participants relive moments that I find important/of signifcant history to the character, culminating with a send-off of sorts. Is this something that you would allow me to do? Willing to work with you on the details some to fit in with Valucre lores/rules if any of that bends them.

“No, I’m quite all right,” Rafael replied, giving the High Lord’s quip no more attention than it deserved. He’d come to loathe the growing of his mate’s pettiness, though he could blame none other than himself for its existence. Rou Ji’s company may have provided it with sunlight, and Gabriela’s history of capricious ways with rain, but Rafael had planted the seed with his abuse and neglect. “I’m still rather full." Leaning in, the elder vampyre brushed a light kiss along the High Lord’s neck where he’d bitten him just hours before. “But, if you’d like to try something, you’re more than welcome to.” Closing the pamphlet, Rafael slid it into Zenahriel’s unburdened hand. “The Sword Dancing doesn’t begin for another handful of hours, so whatever else you wish to do, whatever you wish to see, just lead the way. I’m here for you.” Giving the High Lord a moment to weigh his options, Rafael studied his surroundings, letting his gaze move about the crowd without urgency. These demons are quite interesting, he mused. Nothing like the monstrosities and horrors spawned from the rage of the Maelstrom, or the daemons that tore their way into the Waking World. They seemed tame in comparison, intelligent, more than tooth and claw and hunger. But how much of it is just a mask? Surely, there was a handful of these creatures behaving only to be spared their reagent’s wrath. The air was ripe with the scent of human, thick enough to even draw the Elder’s attention when a breeze carried the aromas just right. Rafael could only imagine how tempting it must have been to those that lacked his discipline, those that were more slave than master to their instinct and primitive desires. All it would take was one mistake, one accident, for this festival to come crashing down around them. Akako was taking a great risk, or perhaps she simply trusted her people that greatly? At that thought— “Before we return to the capital, darling, make sure that we speak with the regent here. Lady Akako.” Rafael’s gaze still held the festival in its grasp, particularly fond of the merchant peddling a vast collection of ornate jewelry. “You two have yet to be introduced, and I would like for her to know you, and you, her. She is… mm… an interesting woman, to say the least. Or rather, after having met her twice before, I find her to be.”

For anyone who thinks giant robots are cool: If you want one, go nuts. There's no submission process. This isn’t an artifact list, and so I'm not going to treat Ogres as such. That said, be mindful of how a frame came into your character's possession. Roughly 80 to 90% are owned by the Terran Military, in which pilots undergo a year-long training program before deployment. If you don't want to be a part of the military, that's cool. There are other ways to acquire an Ogre. Private companies, theft, scrapyard ingenuity, those are just a few ideas that readily come to mind. Just be reasonable. That's all I'm asking. Ogres aren't two-legged Death Stars you wrap up for your five-year-old's birthday. Otherwise, I'll be here to answer any questions. Suggestions are also welcome, as I'm still polishing the final concept. IMPORTANT EDIT: You guys don't have to ask me for one. Just go ahead and make a profile ?