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Lagrimosa Lore


Posts posted by Aleksei

  1. 1 minute ago, evil said:

    Thank you for your follow up all things considered. I was just seeing if anyone wanted to join me, my character is kind of new and strange to work with. I customized his class to learn as I roleplay, I was already PM'ing her before I put this here. This was more or less to be thoughtful, and include anyone who join in the roleplay. A group seems fun to me.

    Thats the best - a group full of random characters always calls for some ridiculous shenanigans! If you don't require a Noble or even a person from Crystallo, I've got Marley who is a hedge witch trying to get his life together 🥲 He isn't entirely useless, just ... a handful, maybe angsty? Let me know, I'm comfortable tagging along. 

  2. 8 minutes ago, evil said:

    Makes sense. I was more or less doing this to be introduced since the area is full of nobles out of consideration for the environment. That and I wanted to see if anyone wanted to tag along, but it was to be sure I wasn't ignorant of anything, or if this was an important location that should be supervised.

    I wonder if there are any current players actively playing noble characters, besides @Eternity :think: I'm sure it can easily be said that nobles are floating about, considering that Noble Houses sustain Crystallo. With there being such a major mix of fae, elves, dwarves, and the like, it could be said that not everyone is a noble or 100% a denizen of Crystallo.

    Nonetheless! I feel that Crystallo is an area anyone can step foot in and visit the mentioned places of interest. If there needs to be some kind of reassurance or a need for more information, I'm sure the board leader will fill us in!

  3. 17 hours ago, evil said:

      My character Lhoth could use an escort into the city, a Noble who can help grant him access to the Elder Tree in Nigrum Stella. I would like to use his ability as a Mystic to unlock abilities to my character sheet. Just presenting this here as an obvious opportunity for those of you who may have interest in tagging along. We can even trade PM's if you prefer, as I have an ability to impart if you wish to accept it. Or if you prefer you can simply escort my character there to my contact.

    Crystallo Stella

    I could be reading the lore incorrectly or perhaps there is more out there than what is being presented, but having a noble guide your character to the tree may not be necessary, UNLESSSS the character being a noble specifically has an affect on the outcome of your characters success.

    By what I am reading, the tree isn't something hidden from the public. The snippets below make me assume that it is a very special tree and protected, but not necessarily out of reach to the public:



    The people worship Mother Nature, and everything given to them by her. The land is the most sacred to them, they’re often seen protecting ancient life like the tree. The high priests and priestesses can be found worshipping in the temple built around a massive tree with a face, or performing rituals for the seasons.

    It is said that the Tree is a link to the Tree of Life, a life line to the great mother Gaia.


    Divine Rose Tre Temple

    A beautiful massive tree within the waterfall that houses the priests and priestesses that worship and teach about Gaia and all that she has done for her children. Found inside the temple is an odd tree with a face, the source of worship for all the practicing citizens.

    Tagging @Eternity to correct me on my assumptions and perhaps give us some filler to work with.

    I say all this to say that I have a hedge witch who wouldn't mind making his way to Crystallo Stella :bigsmile: This would be a fun opportunity for him. The issues are he isn't a noble nor is he from Crystallo

  4. @The Hummingbird @Mickey Flash

    ybB2mbW.pngYou can't run away forever - he knows that, has known that for a very long time now. Ever since that dirty elf opened up his vault and drew him outside, things haven't lined up right. She left him to go out into the world on his own, a world that was no longer familiar but far more welcoming than what he could remember. If they ever met again, he will make sure that he turns that nasty little elf into a frog or maybe a gnat, something indistinguishable and weak. All he wanted to do was sleep undisturbed, then he would not be in this weird predicament.

    Marley looked down at his hand and wondered how in the world ... his attention was grabbed by the tug of the ropes attached to his restrained wrists. This strange position reminded him of how he ended back in Dashkanchay. When the fight had broken out in the bar, individuals not associated with those who attacked Immie and whatever that other man's name is, snatched him with a bit too much ease for his liking. Just because he's a witch does not mean he's frail; they had done something strange to him.

    Another tug to the ropes made him look up at his captors. They've only exchanged a few words when necessary; for the most part, it appeared they knew precisely where they needed to go. If that's the case, why did they need him? Surely there are other hedge witches to be found in this world; there's no reason to go after him. It is becoming increasingly more difficult to think over the knot still occupying the back of his head. That combined with the heaviness in his chest, Marley was uncomfortable, weakened, and utterly confused by this whole ordeal.

    There are about ten of them, all dressed like common mercenaries, yet they give off the impression they are far more intelligent than ruffians. They worked in shifts; five are scouting ahead, and two are exploring behind, leaving the other three to continue forward with him being dragged along. They all have varying accents, which can only mean they're from everywhere, yet nowhere. He recognizes none of them, but the way they looked at him, have dragged him back to Dashkanchay, meant they knew him.

    'Tansy, go back.' Tansy was able to stay hidden (or allowed to remain hidden). 'I can't risk you getting caught.'

    'They're here.'

    Marley glanced over his shoulder, catching the two scouts rushing towards the three leaders. 'Who is here, Tansy?' He was desperate for information on the outside world, and it looked like the scouts brought some dangers with them. He can't make out their language; if it's that, maybe it's a code of some sort to keep him out of the loop. Nonetheless, they looked at him before suddenly pushing him forward, their sense of urgency now doubled. 

    Tansy watched them take Marley away before hopping the opposite way. There were others on the island, and he has every intention of investigating these new bodies.

  5. @Mickey Flash

    YANTpUd.png"So, are you going to lead the conversation or?"

    Rohini glanced down, noting how the small woman had tilted her head as if heavy with thought. There had been something between the woman and Skacharm, leaving him curious enough to ask her about it from time to time. He guessed it has to do something with propriety, class, and whatever else you have that has kept her at arm's length away from the handsome elf. It could also have something to do with Areille's brother and his control issues, not that it stopped her from stepping foot outside of her sibling's realm. There are just a few too many variables for him to consider, and she isn't the sort to be forthcoming with her feelings.

    "We are here to congratulate them both, Rohini." Her response led their walk into a crawl as he hesitated, unsure how to respond or comfort the unusually melancholic individual. "It is the most appropriate response. We must be diplomatic ... this is just a diplomatic response."

    He was not going to push her to explain further, knowing well enough that it'd turn into some back and forth that'd lead nowhere. His curiosity is at an all-time high, though. Did she like the elf? Oh, did the elf like her? Were they teasing feelings that will never blossom? Rohini is not one to play cupid, and he'd instead just let the two figure it all out for themselves, but he would love to see them have an actual interaction with one another. Their little expedition to find Malia and the prearrangement between Areille and Skacharm were not ideal situations. Maybe a dance would be.

    "Our Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you once again," he led the introductions. He bowed while Areille curtsied low, both showing their respect for Skacharm and Malia, who had just been guided to the dance floor. It was a lovely sight, enough, so he was half tempted to ask her for the next dance if allowed. "It looks like the Queen is enjoying the festivities."

    "You two know how to throw a fantastic party; I'm sorry we missed the very beginning." Areille had heard about the hunt and wondered how Rohini would have done; the thought itself was comical enough to draw a smile across her timid face. "I hope all has been well with you both." Opal hues were affixed upon the elf's face, something she has touched and will never be able to see, leaving her fingertips the only witness to such beauty. 


  6. @Noko @DarkHorse

    uzvL4CI.pngThey watched her lift her face to the sky like some werewolf getting ready to serenade the stars above. She could claim that she had the remarkable ability to sniff the air and know when it's going to rain or any such nonsense. She could claim pretty much anything she wanted at that point, yet she chose to keep herself affixed on the reality of her surroundings. Riforte had turned her face to the heavens because it was a habit, and whatever the wind brought her, she took graciously.

    The woman wore the cloak of darkness comfortably, while the random bunch scattered around her nervously played with their weapons. How could anyone not enjoy the secrets of the night? How could anyone not feel freedom when doused in mystery? Sure, this area isn't ideal for the weak and is uncomfortable for the strong, surely these men have felt danger and have danced with death - surely. Why she can count on one hand how many times she has died, and every time was more exhilarating than the last. Could say they left her breathless.

    A scowl mars her features when the echo of a branch breaking underfoot reached her already distracted ears. The nighttime sounds of the forest and mountains had become a delicious symphony to her senses, and to have it randomly ruined put her in a sour mood. Her followers were not a delicate bunch, reminding her how spoiled she had been with real people who all had decorum flowing through their veins. On the one hand, she missed each and every one of them, and on the other, she was happy to be far away from the life she is so uncertain of; memories and thoughts of yesteryear haunt her mind like an inky Spector fluttering through empty halls. 

    Turning into figurative vultures, the group hovered around the camp, their bellies hungry for action. Riforte rubbed her fingertips together, calming the itch to move while she listened to them struggle with what they're looking at. Shoving away the nauseating feeling of extreme familiarity, the untamed woman stepped behind the men and tapped her chin in mock thought.

    "Run at it," she said confidently. "We have to break through the barrier, right?" They all nodded in a far too eager manner, making her pretty lips stretch into a broad, happy smile. How did they know it was a barrier? They sipped eagerly at her honey words. "So run at it, weapons raised. What are they going to do? There's like a handful of them to the army of us, and they're going to be too busy protecting the woman. Yeah? Yeah."

    She wasn't convincing enough to make them immediately move, making her feel a little proud. This entire journey, they've kept her suspicious self at arm's length, so she did not expect them to immediately jump ship. 

    They still jumped, though.

    It was a mess after that. The first man to run forward was immediately regretful of his decision, his friend who followed him didn't stop soon enough to not be repelled as well, and everyone else was stuck in the sands of disbelief. Now the enemy knew they were there and the mercenaries had to make a decision: go after their goal or go after the woman they hadn't trusted since the beginning. She was happy either way, maybe next time they'll think twice about interrupting her silence with their heavy feet.

  7. @Noko @DarkHorse

    uzvL4CI.pngRiforte withheld her opinions to herself, feeling that it was unnecessary to make friends so quickly on the first date. The individuals who have collected together for the bounty were ... rambunctious, to say the least. Mercenaries have always been out of the realm of - oh, what's the word?

    'Excuse me.'

    The woman stuffed her thoughts away in a pocket already overflowing with 'things to do later' and turned her attention to the intrusive voice. These days, so many intrusive voices leave her to ponder who is exactly relaying her thoughts and who is genuinely thinking them. Had a wisp tapped her mind when she had fallen asleep? Was the structural integrity of her insanity finally crumbling - after so long? Whatever the case, the 'excuse me' came from an actual person, one who glares down at her with accusatory eyes. Such hatefulness, she can almost taste it in the air.

    "There is no excuse for you," was her reply. The words just slipped out, leaving herself and her company bewildered by the simplicity of the accusation. Accusation? No, she thinks, lifting her face to the sky, accusation isn't the right word for the sticky reply.

    Nothing came of it, though. She stepped aside, allowing the man and his crew to begrudgingly move by her; they only left behind pitiful insults in their wake. Thankful for the cold response, the woman took her sweet time following after them. 

    She has shown her intellect, making her something of a coveted piece to this wild goose chase. Not all mercenaries are known for their intelligence and delicate touch, and the bunch of coconuts she's been put with certainly amplify the best parts of the said description. It's only by her past discretions has she put them on the right path to their bounty, properly securing her place above them, yet not one of them. In truth, she knows their endgame; it's all a bit too cliché and a bit too familiar for her to just shake off. If they're on the same wavelength here, they will betray her as soon as they get their prey, leaving her empty-handed and all that nonsense. 

    Exhaling, she trudges forth. Golden eyes flash with some minor determination, the delicate glow illuminating the scattered freckles across her cheeks. 

    It is exhilarating doing what one was born to be: chaotic.

  8. 9kFwz2U.png"What is this? An intruder lingering amongst the comforts of my home?"

    Lemoine took a dangerous tone with the gentleman who has so casually been carved from moonlight and shaped by stardust. He is an overwhelming sort with a figure that overtakes a room and a demeanor that demands attention. She would never openly tell him that he snatches the air from her lungs, leaving her feeling weak and vulnerable within the breadth of his presence. That would be too tantalizing of a tell - he's already so aware.

    Bare feet padded their way forth, helping her invade his quiet space with her soft presence. Delicately, she slipped atop his lap, spreading the caramel tulle of her elaborate dress across them. The star sequins sprinkled through the sweet fabric shifted prettily with each movement as she got comfortable atop her familiar seat. Before drawing their conversation to the agenda of the day, Lemoine threw her arms around his neck while wearing a sweet and welcoming smile.

    What a privilege, she thinks to herself. He is carved from moonlight itself, shaped by shooting stars and hopeful wishes.

    Lemoine lifted her face to the sweet caress of the day's splendor. The delicate breeze brought with it the scent of home and memory, causing her to drift against the touch of time lost. Is it wrong for them to enjoy this settled time? Considering the pains and heartbreaks that have brought them to this point, she can't help but feel misplaced or perhaps misguided? Theirs is a love story of the most fantastic sort, a story lover's tell one another during times of tribulation as an example of all things are possible.  

    "What is on your mind this day, Lucis?" She moves her opalescent gaze to his proud face, her warmth not lost within their depths.

  9. @Mickey Flash

    YANTpUd.pngTraveling is a bore and a task Rohini will never appreciate, no matter how wondrous the means to traverse across mountains and stars maybe. More than once, he has been called an 'old soul' or a 'homebody' - neither occasion being endearing, and not once has he denied the proclamations against his person. There is just something about the comforts of four familiar walls, being surrounded by memories, and enjoying the silence of your own company. He would rather be home than here, surrounded by mostly unfamiliar faces.

    Alas, one must sacrifice some comforts to obtain comfort. His lady has provided him with health and happiness in the long term; the least he can do is escort her from one end of the world to the other. A party isn't going to kill him, and who knows, he may find someone interesting to speak to or maybe something interesting to drink - perhaps both?! The possibility of drink and company made the long walk into the dance hall relatively bearable.

    "I can feel you frowning, Rohini." His company finally spoke up from her lofty perch, drawing his attention away from his surroundings to the one woman who has snatched his curiosity. The frown she claimed to feel dug deeper into his delicate face, twisting it some, making him look like a pouty adolescent instead of a perturbed adult. 

    "My lady, I wear this frown because you placed it here," he said while patting her hand, which was sweetly tucked in the curve of his elbow. "You need to take responsibility for it."

    Areille laughed, a pretty sound that could dance above any wild crowd. He notes that she wears her smile and sings her laughter far too effortlessly for a woman of noble birth - he hopes she never stops. 

    The young woman is dressed in a beautiful sequin lace gown that compliments her red hair, curled and left loose to cascade across her shoulders and back. Tonight she wore a diadem of simple make, woven gold with a delicate gem centered at her forehead; it's a surprise it doesn't get lost in her luscious locks. It's easy to see that she was born with nobility soaked in her name and presence; from the dress and its flair to her manner of standing upright, Areille is a woman of unique power. And she has chosen him as her partner for the night, a guard from a lowly upbringing, a man who would rather eat dirt than have to dance.

    "I will claim responsibility for your sour mood, but will you do the same for mine?" With her free hand, she patted her partner on his well-cut chest. "You're a brave man, not a foolish one, Rohini. Stay close to me, and I ensure your time will be well spent!" On that note, she dragged the gentleman into the fray of the dance hall, where she can feel and hear the excitement. Before they got too far into the commotion, Rohini stopped to ensure that his attire was adequately fit and ready to go. Considering that Areille took special care that they match, the least he could do give the impression he cared. 

    "Where to first, my lady?"

    "Introductions Rohini, then we can take advantage of the drinks and sweets."

    "Have I told you that I love you? That I've always loved you?" How easily he is persuaded; drinks and snacks, what more can a person ask for?

    Again, the woman was brought to laughter, alighting her opal hues in mirth. "Your avowals of love do not fall on deaf ears!"

  10. kmWgnCP.pngOlympia giggled at Igni's response, "True enough! We can take as ... savoring our meal then, yes?"

    Humour kept the heart warm and the soul uplifted; considering the current circumstances, she felt a little freckling of silliness helps them prepare for what is to come.

    The woman gave the glorious dragon a delicate bow, taking the compliment in stride and appreciation. "I thank you! It's not often a woman gets to don on her best attire - I'm thankful for the opportunity."

    There was little time left to speak on the troubles of unwanted male attention, for she sought the battlefield with vigor. She was here to lend a helping hand; after all, it's best to get down to business and not waste the day away with idle conversation. Later, she thought, she and Igni will leaf through the pages of Oly's track record of catching men's attention. For now, she situates herself in the heart of the battle. 

    And what a battle it has become! A story has unfolded at their very feet, leaving a path littered in destruction and memory. Olympia did not understand the in-depth nature of such an attack on the primary individual against Nathan, but she could easily empathize. There had been a time when anger fueled her forth, betrayal kept her afloat, and indignation shielded her. How easily emotions can make any situation worse, no matter how well placed they are. Such comes to fruition as the master of the attack goes directly for the one thing he's claimed: Igni.

    Occupied with her hoard and the safety of those following her, Olympia was left to be a spectator. Showing her mastery of sword and shield, the woman was a storm to be reconned with - she made sure of such. Holding back was to keep the masses safe and her faux identity intact, yet the deterioration of Nathan's emotions and Antares provocation showed her that she needn't be so coy.

    Heavy armor turned to simple white robes edged in gold; her shield disappeared, but her sword remained in her hand, all aglow and clean, odd considering the amount of undead it has sliced through. Her hair was now left to hang loose around her unarmored shoulders; it still held its hefty color of inky darkness, but beneath its weight was a glow of gold that wove through her curls. Bare feet slowly approached Max, who was now facing the heart of the problem; her delicate steps left behind scorched marks.

    Wasting no time, the SoulSeeker assists Max by offering a simple prayer only his ears can hear. Such a blessing carries a piece of her soul used to enhance his weapons effectively a Masterwork and enhances its damage against the undead and non-humans. It's only a blessing, something quick and efficient until she can focus on something more substantial. 

  11. Finally, she rose above the edge of the pool she had been drowning in all these years. The buzzing in her ears stopped, and from the corridors of her mind, an echo finally came forth in the grace of clarity. It was shocking, to feel again after so long being numb and dull to the surrounding world. The disconnect had affected her more than she had thought, now that the world has come rushing at her in a swell of emotions.

    Wiping away one errant tear, the woman stood up and stretched her aching bones. She will not be the only person to feel that sudden shift in the air; she can already see movement off in the distance, something that hardly ever happens unless someone has a bone to pick. Someone always has a bone to pick, too. Mostly left to her own thoughts, the woman has been able to survive the last few years with only a few scars after someone slipped her title - former title - into the fray. None of the big-shots really liked the idea of being locked away with former heat.

    And really, who can blame them? Experience has taught her that trusting anyone with some kind of badge can make for terrible results.

    Gathering her wandering thoughts in a ragged row, she begins to walk forward, lead by the need to move and nothing more. Whatever comes her way will be dealt with swiftly, and respectively; there is no need to avoid confrontation, not in this place. She can feel the fields of magic dripping in, they rippled through her dry skin, tickled every nerve in her body, reawakening the hunger for more. People are going to start losing their minds now that there is a taste of possible freedom dangling right in front of them, barely out of reach.

    Just right there, in front of them. In front of her.

    Curling worn fingers into tight fists, Ethen soothes her near-boiling rage. Now isn't the time to think bitterly of the past; her future is right here, and she will not squander it.

  12. v1V9U3i.png"I am completely convinced the room has always spun," was her response, her words gently muffled by her head-down position. "There's no other explanation as to why it won't stop."

    When she finally lifted her aching head off the table, she eyed the man a bit before paying him a small smile that made her face softer and kinder. In general, Delaney is not a very intimidating figure, and she does next to nothing to appear so. Her smiles, be them broad or smile, aged her a few years, making her look younger and vulnerable. So, it's not often she gives anyone more than a small smirk; hopefully, the gentleman acknowledges her pleasure towards his little remark.

    "A grape depression. I'll have to pocket that for another time, preferably when I'm sober again."

    Before the conversation can go any further, the waitress returned with what looks like a bowl of warm soup and some kind of steaming concoction in a mug. The look on her face was unimpressed with just a dash of confusion - what was she supposed to do with this meal, eat it? Looking at the smiling waitress, she got the answer she was dreading: she has to eat it. Swallowing over the lump in her throat, Delaney shudders before giving her thanks to the waitress.

    Dragging her attention back to the wolfish figure at the bar, she points to the furs on his shoulders to the bowl in front of her. "You think that wild beast gnawing on your shoulders would eat this? I need to know if I'm being tricked, locked in a bad dream, or this is the reality I must face."

    Before she dives in and ultimately drowns, she takes this moment to greet the new arrival adequately. She could taste the magic pouring from his form like a waterfall that dares to sink her beneath its strength. It set the mood. "You smell like the ocean," she finally says, lifting her nose some to punctuate her words. "What brings you here to the Blossom? It's a rather ... odd time for random visitors." If she were asked for her opinion about the subject, she would say: it's better to be forthcoming, no need to be sly or coy. Plus, if the man wanted to remain incognito, he wouldn't have dressed so fashionably.

    Or be so magically inclined. Her abilities as a Seeker made it impossible for her not to notice the strengths of others. Her inability to keep quiet makes it impossible for her not to mention things as she sees them. It's not a move to flex her might or distort his visit; her words were an open line of communication between two strangers.

    "I hope it's not the food, because we may be lacking in that area."


  13. Here are the answers to your questions. Let me know if you want me to add more or anything!

    • Ethen has been in prison for about four to five years now, and she's been able to survive by being a smooth operator 👉😎👉   She was a Captain based in Casper years and years ago, and something went wrong (hella wrong, like big no no wrong (this is a old character and the idea I have in my head isn't written anywhere, before you ask for written deets), like yeah that's not good wrong) that landed her in prison. She has basically kept to herself, used her special set of skills to ensure no one steps on her and if they do, she makes them an example to why she should be left alone. Ethen's been on her own this entire time, choosing to not associate with any gangs, and hasn't really made any "friends" per say. She is also someone you can't miss. She has bubblegum pink hair and neon green eyes. 
    • Not really. I like Ethen and haven't used her for awhile and would like to reintroduce her back into my writing.
    • Nope!
    • Hella team up and try to escape! She's ready to blow this popsicle stand, she wants to make like a tree and gtfo.

  14. YANTpUd.pngAreille figured that it would be best she allow Skacharm his moment with the new arrival. Her focus was more transfixed upon the atmosphere that's now thick with loss and understanding. 

    Whenever one goes on these kinds of expeditions, they claim to understand that death is unavoidable, but they forget that it's the death of those around them, not just their own. Losing anyone remotely close to you can be jarring, as that person had a spot in your life, and now that spot is left empty and cold. She hopes Rysorian will be delicate towards those mourning, hopefully by saying nothing and going about his business. These people have lost, and they have the right to mend their aches without someone criticizing them for feeling.

    Rohini would have been just as occupied by the mood, if not for the wounds freckling his form. A significant problem with his abilities is the need for injury to drive him closer and closer to the edge of depravity. If one can't feel, blinded by the pounding of their blood and the desolation around them, they can fight harder and longer. The wolves had reawoken the thirst in his veins, and it overwhelmed enough to weakness. So he sits on the ground, bleeding and staring at the dead with bright eyes. The scene dared to tease a memory, but he was quick to shove it aside.

    "You're a bit of a mess, Rohini," Areille whispered while kneeling down at his side. 

    "Mmph, still alive, though. Something they can't say," he said, a bloody finger pointing at the bodies. "Remind me again why we're here?"

    "To help."

    "Then help them first, and we'll figure everything else out later."

    The soldier hobbled to his feet, being as low-key as one can do when you're missing a piece of your thigh, and your ankle is nearly chewed to the bone. He didn't mind getting a few scars for his trouble; it's just a shame he can't wander around naked to show off his hard work. 

    Giving her his hand, he pulled her off the ground and then shoved her forward so she can do her work. Areille has always been fixed behind someone, be it her mother or her siblings or just another person; she was always a follower. Imbued with reputable skills, she's only been given few opportunities to show her wealth of wonder to the rest of the world. Rohini has been on the tender end of her delicate touch before and believes that everyone within this little camp could use a little extra love. 

    She did as she was told and approached those injured, assisting them by healing their wounds. Those mourning she gave words of comfort and understanding, doing her best not to minimize their feelings. It was the least she can do to help, especially since she was not there to help fight off the beasts.

    While watching his friend work her magic, a few individuals approached him. Their questions were about the manifestation of his sword, something he was still tightly holding onto and using as a small crutch. Others wanted to know about the type of magic he had used against the wolves, and how he came about learning it. He welcomed the distraction, plus he got to talk about himself, one of his favorite things to do! 

  15. 22 hours ago, Dupin said:

    Another thing to note (I should've actually made this explicit, woops) is that this would going down in ~29AO IC. 


    8 hours ago, HollowCipher said:

    29AO? Whats that mean?

    The year this thread currently takes place, using the Terran calendar. Currently, in real time, the year is:

    Terran Calendar: The current year is 31 AO = 599 WTA. All new threads happen during the current year unless otherwise stated by the creator.

    You can find more information on it all right here in the good ol' lore article:

    So that means this thread is taking place two years in the past, which would make sense considering the loci event.

    All that said, may I sneak on in?

  16. 1UmGD6t.pngKaori listened to Belah with half the attention the other woman so deserved. They have been going over the vitals of Oo'Xora, something that's done about every month or so to ensure they both keep up with the times. Belah would give this information to Kaori's mother, but time has dictated the young woman to take her mother's place. She wasn't sure if it was to give her mother some reprieve, or a strong attempt to show Kaori's father that she's not a whimpering pup. Maybe it's a bit of both.

    Whatever the reason, she has taken her new responsibilities seriously - until now. Just outside Belah's lavish mansion was a world mostly unknown to Kaori, and tonight she is craving change from the usual. It would not be the first time she's snuck about, though sneaking is used loosely here. No one has ever told her never to leave, always to stay inside, away from the rest of the world. It's nearly impossible when there is so much to do, that being leisurely with her time has become difficult. Some would say she is naive, sheltered, and coddled. All could be true, if only they knew how much she isn't a delicate doll.


    Red eyes tore themselves away from the window to look at the lovely woman. Belah, with her indigo eyes, had a way of snatching the air from your lungs, leaving you drowning beneath her overwhelming beauty. Kaori is one of many victims of the woman's natural charm.

    "Why don't you take the rest of the night off. We can continue this tomorrow morning."

    That's all that needed to be said. The two call it a night, allowing the young woman to dress and venture out into the world - with escorts, of course. Being a royal meant you had some freedom, just enough to give you space but not too much where you can go all wild. For Kaori, it did not matter much; her father and mother do everything to ensure her safety, including the abilities to protect herself if needed. The escorts are just disposable shields. They may come in use depending on what kind of trouble rolls itself before her.

  17. @Twitterpated @danzilla3

    TmSftZy.pngShe hadn't worried much about the upbringing of children. The Mythal House was full of children; almost every member had a child or four with more on the way. Milorian was the only Mythal brother without children, and Lyrei can also be included in that category. Still, Delphine had a feeling the lady-elf will be populating Ursa Madeum soon enough. It's heard on the wind that Lyrei and her beau are an envious pair, that the Lord Kholin has already sworn to gather a crown of stars for his beloved.

    Delphine would not be there to help raise Lyrei's children or the rest of the Mythal brood. A bit of a melancholy thought to file away for later, for now, she preoccupies herself with the new faces being introduced. She was courteous, using her newly learned manners to her best abilities as not to offend. A small bit of her felt proud of it all. So long ago, she had been terrified of humans, and now she is mingling with them as if normal. It's something she will keep reminding herself as the night goes on.

    "Water, please."

    A woman with simple needs, her pregnancy has made her insufferably practical. Grant has been the ever doting lover, attending to her every need, mothering her to almost death, and pretty much driving her wild. She knew it was a combination of a few things, so she could not blame him much for his hovering. A simple request for water will turn into a grand quest to hunt down something fresh, cold, and perhaps paired with a snack. She will let him figure out the rest, just as long as she gets her simple request for a simple thing.

    While waiting for her beverage, the elf took a moment to look around. Earlier, they had been introduced and spoke to a few individuals, but one in particular kind of stuck out. He looked a bit lonely when he had introduced himself as an apparent friend. From her position, she couldn't necessarily pinpoint his location, making her curious little search somewhat tricky. Jin wasn't someone you quickly lose in a crowd.

  18. v1V9U3i.pngDelaney was close to nailing the door shut, its constant opening and closing grating her thin nerves. The night's festivities before were finally settling, leaving her more than a little irate about her chosen surroundings. It was her fault, after all, since the Cursed Sword is known for its lively atmosphere, and she was the one who wanted it for the last hoorah. A small portion of the Seekers who've chosen to leave Ursa Madeum is now on a ship to their new home, the memory of their company pasted against the woman's heavy heart.

    They are her family, no matter the miles spread between them, and she will miss them dearly.

    "What'll you have, Ms.?" The waitress had been a sweet caretaker, ensuring that Delaney wasn't left alone to wallow in her terrible decisions.

    Sifting worn fingers through pale hair, the Seeker took her time to think the question over. What will she have, hm? Food is probably the best choice she can make, though there wasn't a single thing that spoke to her. Soup? Salad? Grass? A bullet? At this point, she is more than willing to be led to the back and shot, because she's just as useful as a lame horse. "Water and whatever you think will cure this hangover."

    The waitress giggled before patting Delaney on the shoulder. She has seen the Grand Master deep in her cups before, but the night before had been something else. She and her followers had nearly drunk the tavern dry; if you listen close enough, you can still hear their rambunctious songs embedded into the floors and walls. Drunk they were, but not a single man or woman was disrespectful to the patrons and the staff of the Cursed Sword. Delaney had ensured those gathered beneath her banner are the best in all things: sorcery, fighting, courtesy, and drinking. All those things were shown the night before.

    While waiting for the waitress to return, she pulled her jacket tighter and gently plopped her aching head against the cold table. As much as she hated feeling like this, she worked to remember why she wanted someone to put her out of her misery. Things are changing, and last night was the pinnacle of those changes.

    Around her, the tavern was dull; almost all remnants of last night's party have been removed, returning the Cursed Sword to normal. The people were jovial, enjoying their conversations while a few others were speckled across the place doing their own thing. It was busy, just not as wild - even though the door can't stay closed. It set a bitter scene for the woman, but she was thankful, as was her swimming head.

  19. kmWgnCP.png'Your father would have purged the entire area by now,' the voice said, their opinion clear with every word.

    "Is he only my father when it comes to such things?" Olympia remarked aloud. Over the last few days, she has been in constant communication with her sister, the glorious figure keeping Oly's kingdom in order while she is away.

    'When he is sanctimonious - yes.'

    Both women share a laugh, knowing their father is everything under the sun and more beyond it. He was a cold ruler, perhaps a little too heavy-handed, but he was a kind father who tried his best with the hoard he had produced. Far from perfect, the gentleman turned god did what he could with what little knowledge he had. Olympia is possibly the only child who looks upon him with complete adoration and limited harsh opinion. Not utterly ignorant of his shortcomings, the picture of her father is one to admire.

    Much like Nathan, the woman could change her attire to fit the mood. Having declined soft leather in previous offerings, settled mostly on everyday attire, Olympia is not blind towards her limitations as a semi-human being. Arrows still hurt, and swords can even nick, and enemies can be hungry for blood and death; she can't allow herself to take these minimal risks. Plains clothes turned to the armor most SoulSeekers of higher rank wore; white robes edged in red flowed about her, revealing snippets of intricate black armor that familiarly hugged her form.

    "Even if we could eat the undead, I'm sure they'd be a little too chewy." Olympia liked Igni, she was a relief from the goings-on, really. "I don't know about you, but I'm not for spending hours just chewing my food."

    She approached them all in her glory, with shield and sword hanging from her form, and embellished armor all aglow. The hood to her robes was thrown back, revealing her eager smile and bright eyes. The battle is soon to commence, and the young lady looked as if she was prepared to talk a stroll.

  20. uhDCpqb.png"That is fair. There is no reason for us to stomp on the ground that's already done the work to separate. It would do us good to reach out to them and let them know our intentions."

    She was a careful cook, something someone had once told her at some point in her life. The years before she fell asleep were still a delicate blur, but the emotions and the voices attached to them haunt her. Once upon a time, she had entered this kitchen with someone, and together they talked about things that no longer matter. Whoever that person is, she hopes that they are well or at least productive. Unlike her, who is making a snack for a snake that's just slithered his way in, this is not what she expected to come out of her day.

    Reliability aside, she understood his need for her. Myrlande came into this blossoming relationship with courtesy on her side. She hasn't proclaimed her loyalty to the boy just yet, though neither had she done so with his mother, even though Myrlande's actions obviously said she was. Whatever ambitions she may have had were gone with time, and the only thing worth attending to is him. It will have to be enough.

    "Even if she returned, she would probably have the hope of bringing the Kingdom back to its original glory."

    She shrugged her shoulders while molding all the ingredients into a workable dough. A bit of magic here and there made the dough rise, but everything else was her doing.

    "Its original glory is gone, and we best not fall into the trap of grasping at the past while trying to obtain a future."

    Patting the flour off her hands, she thinks over his words for a bit. "That's a fair enough idea. Extend our hand forward, and we'll see who bites it, giving you the decision to either slap them or keep them close. While we wait for all that to happen, things should be done around the Keep."

    Cutting the dough into squares, Myrlande shuffles her mental notes around. They're going to have to work from the inside out and make a name for themselves to garner the attention of helpful people. Predators Keep is probably stagnant with the current situation, and that just means so much more work on their end.

    "I suggest you visit the underground and start making your presence known there. From what I can remember, it is an area with some color figures that could get you on the good side of those who matter." Pouring oil into a large pot, she turns the stove on and waits for the thick liquid to start rolling to a boil. "Charity work will get everyone to look at you - actions speak louder than words, and all that nonsense. You can perhaps make conversations with dragons and their riders if they still exist around these parts."

  21. Like anything new, the visitor has drawn in a crowd of interested mermaids. They all took turns to look him over, making about any excuse just to catch a glimpse. Humans come and go, deciding often enough that Ingemar's underwater world was nothing compared to the wonders of their dry land. It's another argument for another day, but nothing compares to the beauty of their magnificent kingdom in the opinion of the mermaids. Nonetheless, humans are not weird things found here, it's just not often one is allowed within the castle as if they had the immediate right to be there.

    It had become abundantly clear that perhaps Keone had made a drastic mistake in bringing the injured man down below. In a flurry, the human rolled off the cot and began screaming at the top of lungs, the shock apparently too much for his evident fragility. The healers were quick to form a delicate shield around the human, for his protection and their own. Keone watched, silently waiting for the healers to draw him in if needed. Having forgotten how delicate the human mind is, they did not consider that perhaps they should have slowly woken the man up instead of just allowing him to do most of the work.

    Paying for their assumptions, the healers drape the yelling man with their magic that would feel heavy and warm against him. He would feel the gentle, comforting touch of the magic seep through his skin and now irritated wound. They did not feel it would be necessary to bull the man into silence, it is shock enough to have lost an arm, he needs to be eased into the fact he is no longer on land.

    "Listen, you're safe," Keone says, his voice low and his hands raised. "We're here to help you."

    Keone is an elaborate mermaid. The scales of his fin were crystalline, shifting between the soft hues of purples and pinks; each little frill floated and danced against the water while he floated before the man. His appearance easily set himself apart from the rest of the group, allowing him to use his position as a distraction for the broken man. Taking this moment to help as well, the healers began to slowly lift the shield around Jin but kept him comforted by the strength of their magic.

    "My name is Keone, and who are you?"

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