Voting has reset for the month of May. Valucre is in the top 10 but we aim for the top 3 for maximum visibility when people land on the home page of the topsite. If you want to help new members discover Valucre, vote for us daily.


Register now to gain access to the World of Valucre. Once you do, you'll be able to contribute to this site by submitting your own content or replying to existing content. You can ask questions before signing up in the pre-registration threadexplore the world's lore in the Valucre Overview, and learn all you need to know in five minutes by reading the Getting Started page.


  • Content count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

About Avvercus

  • Rank
    Devil Dog
  • Birthday 02/02/1992

Contact Methods

  • Skype

Profile Information

  • Gender
  • Location
  • Interests
    anime and manga, music in general, reading and writing, video games, visual novels, running, biking, martial arts, playing guitar, drawing, the list goes on.
  • Occupation
    Poor College student

Recent Profile Visitors

4,516 profile views
  1. Rainza had met Avvercus under fairly normal, calm circumstances. The kind in which she would never willingly interact with another person in a positive manner. Still, the man had managed to get on her good side, earn her trust, and quickly prove he was a good thing in her life. Here and now, however, he had annoyed the blue haired devil. Her gaze didn’t miss the swooshing hem of a blue cocktail dress swiftly making way for the same door the Aldrak’s beloved teacher and friend had just gone through only moments ago. Without so much as a whistle or peep to the man she was acting as a guard for, Rainza got up and made for the diner. He was on his own for this little mission. Hopefully, he’d learn and not speak out of turn towards her in the future. Her steps stopped abruptly when she came abreast of what seemed to be a young girl getting ready to tuck into a bowl of mac and cheese. Immediately, Rainza took the seat across from the stranger, boring her gaze into the child’s eyes, searching for something. She’d sensed something fundamentally off about this person, all of her aldrak instincts told her what sat across from her currently was easily the most dangerous thing to her existence she’d ever encountered. Survival urges stabbed and yanked and pleaded for her to flee, yet the girl ignored them. Curiosity set in, and she leaned forward, setting her elbows on the table. “What...are you?” --- Meanwhile, a certain swordmage quickly found himself in the very situation he’d gone great lengths to avoid, all thanks to a pinch of irony and ire. The sound of a slamming door, hastened footsteps, and the wet crunch of a body hitting the ground stopped his abscondence from casino floor to mysterious underground. The pitter patter of bloody heels drew a long, heavy sigh from the man before he turned around. He didn’t bother trying to contact Rainza, he already knew she wouldn’t respond. Jade eyes swept from behind dancing silver bangs while his lithe form turned on slippered feet. A violent death, the unnecessary end to a tale never to be told to its proper conclusion, yet this ripper of pages was free of crimson ink or paper cuts. A cute face betrayed sinister intent moreso than the cadaver at her feet; the expression told of smug self-assurance, and not an ounce of sympathy or remorse for the ruined work she’d just tread over. This one didn’t even notice the tombs destroyed in the wake of her own writing, she had only eyes for completion of her next chapter, and he was very possibly just a stray sentence barring her path to that goal. Avvercus put a hand on one hip and flashed an amused smile. “You know, that’s going to make it hard to convince whoever finds me that I just got lost on the way to the restroom. I take it that’s not why you’re here, is it?” he opened up, partially in jest. What ridiculous webs life weaved. Surely, it was perfectly fine to laugh along with them from time to time?
  2. Spinning threads and clinking chains, common imagery for the force known as Fate. Tonight, it rattled and tangled, roaring at the those that would defy the unturnable tide, the ever elusive push and pull of an unseen force that many believe dictated all outcomes. One of her ilk was on the prowl, a cameo in the story that was quickly and unknowingly taking the spotlight of a main character. Rather than walk the path fate set out before most, this man was one of the few that could be found walking the side of the road, paving it and offering new directions, new routes to take. An Acolyte, Avvercus changed Fate's flow simply by staying his course...and occasionally straying from it as well. It was so this night he threw a wrench in a certain lich's plans, though not consciously by any means. Every decision, to start his gait with the left or right foot, one or two shots in his rum and coke, to smile or not to each passerby, every one of these simple actions was something done outside the influence of fate, and each deconstructed the attempts of those that would dare to scry the akashic record through the eyes of destiny. The Jade Palace's newest customer seemingly wandered at random, frolicking from one table to the next, bantering with his fellow guests and throwing a pair of dice from time to time. All the while, a carefully constructed network of invisible lines of mana, woven with runes, glyphs, and arcane scripture were written with such subtle and natural gestures of the hand that only the most scrutinizing and knowledgeable on high ancient dead languages would even notice what was wrought. With a tiny guardian in tow, Avvercus finished his rounds and returned to the bar, smiling as he finished the last sip of his drink. What are you doing? came the curious voice of a grumpy Aldrak, transmuted by way of thought through a psychic connection the two shared. Just a bit of investigation by way of inconspicuous magic filtering. It wouldn't do to have them notice we've sniffed out their foul play, now would it? You call this massive trail of energy 'inconspicuous'? You're the only one that would notice. To everyone else, it would appear as nothing more than residual background mana stirred up by so many vigorous guests. ...I see. Later, you will explain this in greater detail. It's time you taught me magic theory. A chuckle was all Rainza received in return. A mildly annoyed grumble rumbled from her chest, but she let it go. He was her teacher, after all, he knew what was best for her to learn. Meanwhile, a torrent of information flowed from the floor sized magic circle through Avvercus. Every spark, every dollop of supernatural happenstance occurring within this establishment was unveiled through his magical senses. Elemental dominance, mastery of ki, traces of spatial displacement, all normal and unrelated to the cheating happening here. No, two things stood out that could possibly be connected to what had brought the pair to this center of sin. A powerful source of psionics permeated everything, the signs pointing towards an artifact of some kind. The other was a level of scrying, prediction through a culmination of data, magic, and arcane peering into the plausible future that he had never seen before. A master of their craft, this small taste he had picked up could only come from a single person. Whoever they were, they were a specialist in their field, operating at a level a jack of all trades like Avvercus could never hope to achieve. With that in mind, he came to the conclusion it was likely the artifact that was the culprit, and the other was just a single guest here to reap massive rewards from an unknowing casino. There any suspicious 'employee only' entrances here? Seems we need to go where we arent' supposed to be Just one that stands out. Follow me. Rainza stood up and immediately began to lead the way in a casual, non-suspect pace. She had an eye for detail and the movements of people Avvercus could never match. Paranoia about people and ceaseless vigilance on her surroundings meant nothing escaped her notice. Dancing to the tune of debauchery surrounding them like an undispersable cloud, the pair mingled, gambled, talked, ate, and drank as they slowly grew closer to their destination. A craps table only twenty feet away from a non-descript door guarded by a single meat-head. While Rainza engaged the table, losing them yet more money as her luck seemed to be abysmal without the goddess' blessing, Avverucs attracted the attention of a waitress. Taking a small plate of shrimp and cocktail sauce from her, the woman never noticed the symbols that attached themselves to her person. As she walked off, passing the guard at their target location, those symbols jumped ship, shifting to attach to his suit, melding into the material and becoming unnoticeable by those without some sort of truesight or magical sense. At Rainza's signal, he disengaged the table, walking quickly towards the door. The guard failed to notice the swordmage, a victim of a runic pairing. Whoever was afflicted by the rune the guard had attached to him would be unable to notice by any means other than truesight whoever wore the runes the mage and aldrak themselves had equipped. A simple tactic, but highly effective against those unprepared to deal with arcane trickery. This feels a bit too easy, doesn't it? Don't. Say. That. Haha. Keep an eye out for me, will you? I can't promise I'll be quite so subtle from here on out. Hmph. You should just let me go on a rampage. Who needs all this elaborate planning if you just punch whatever gets in your way? That's the backup plan! Cross your fingers I fail, Rainza. Just don't die. And it was so Avvercus slipped into a place he shouldn't be. Many women would attest that was something he often did, and some would insist it was most definitely where he belonged. One woman's opinion on the matter, a woman wielding a cute face and deadly explosives, was to become known not long from now.
  3. Welcome to valucre my friend! I hope you find your experience both a valuable and creative one. =D
  4. With shaking hands, he clawed at the stopper. Bereft of his usual composure and poise, the silver-haired swordmage must surely appear hauntingly out of character this night to any that knew him. The cork was removed without a thought as to what it's purpose was, and the chill of the glass was a sensation so far gone to the desperate man he barely noticed it as he brought the vial to his lips. The vapors contained within hit his nostrils long before the liquid made it to his mouth. Crumpling like a stack of papers, the bottle rolled from his outstretched hand and blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. His unconscious mind swam, visiting horrors and joys in equal measure. The warmth of a plentiful bosom, the flash of wolfish claws, lifeless eyes staring into the void on the face of a beautiful green-haired elf, that same elf smiling and welcoming him home after a long and dangerous mission. Swords flashed, runes clashed, the might of spell and sword cut a path into destiny that left this man filled with pride and regret. How many lives were ruined, how many saved? Would his sacrifice be worth it, would his final breath cry joy for so many more than would mourn? A groggy groan escaped his lips, a mouth that some might describe as girlish. His eyes cracked open, meeting only darkness, and an unfamiliar ceiling that was barely discernable overhead. "Wha...where?" he muttered, and struggled to sit up. A massive spike of pain hit his temple, and he decided to lay just a little longer.
  5. Kalto's heart thumped in his chest. Despite his wound, which he could now feel after the battle's excitement wore off, his mind couldn't ignore the tension of Chrysilla's naivety. Though she lacked the traits that made women women, her voice, her body language, the way she brushed her hair from her eyes and touched him with a gentle elegance...he could see her as nothing other than a woman. He let her remove his shirt, lost in a daze at her cool touch on his skin. The blood running down his arm was slow, as the wound wasn't so terrible it would pose an immediate threat to his life, but it further put his mind out of the normal as he began to feel dizzy. Manticore claws weren't poisoned, right? "Kgh...Chrysilla you can't...phrase things like that. It makes men feel strange...just...get some bandaging from the bathroom. Dress the wound," he instructed with a slightly pained tone, pointing towards the restroom with his good arm. Her expression at the moment was the worst part. It was a face that begged for something he would kill a man for doing to her. Chrysilla was a precious flower to be protected, he had to restrain himself. She needed to learn, to understand the meaning behind these things, to be able to choose whether she wanted such a thing. She had to lose her innocent mind before he would allow any to touch her, himself included. Closing his eyes against the pain and her temptation, he waited for his guardian to do as he'd told her. That damn uniform needs to go away as well. Surely I've got enough supplies to make her something suitable...
  6. I apologize for my absence. My ability to write has been at an all time low. But tonight, the muse flows like a ceaseless fount of glory!
  7. Illisandra's eyes closed as she listened to her companion speak. "Well, you have a decent head on your shoulders, for a human. I tell you what, boy. When we are finished with this quest...know you will have work to do. You will be contracted by house Ravenstone, and I shall not take no for an answer. Continue to prove to me you are worth my time," she promised, and smiled as the horse slipped between trees up the lazy slope they traveled. Some hours later, having not encountered any other orcs by sheer coincidence(The pair had narrowly avoided a few scouting groups without knowing it), the pair crested a hill painted in golden rays of a low hanging sun. There, below and some two miles away was the orc encampment. Countless of their ilk all gathered together, a veritable army. If the dwarves fought this head on, losses would be unavoidable. Illisandra banished her horse and strode to take a knee, her dress dancing under the twilight. Now that it was in these hours between day and night, her power was at its strongest. Warping the light, she created an arcane telescope the both of them could peer through at once. After some discussion, the pair agreed on a plan. For the next several hours, Illisandra toiled. orb after orb of swirling shadow was produced while Callen sketched a map of the camp. He was to place an orb at each location she marked on that map while remaining undetected. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Illisandra finished her work, handing Callen a cloak made of deepest night. It contained all the orbs, and would provide him additional concealment in the dark. "Go, and don't fail me. We won't get another chance like this," she commanded, and stood with arms crossed, ready to see him off. She would remain here, where she wouldn't be a burden. Her twilightmancy changed with the time of day, and currently it was a detriment to stealth.
  8. Flying away...that seemed like a lovely idea at the moment. Absconding into the sky and leaving their troubles earthbound...for a time, that could be a solution. Not a permanent one of course, but a nice reprieve from their troubles. He offered her a weak smile through his melancholy and reached out to pat the girl's head. "You know, home isn't just a place. For me, home is a person named Arieya. If you can't find a place you belong, maybe you should think about making one," he advised before standing up. Now that he stood by her for the first time, he noticed how small she was. In the grand scheme of things, was he really that much bigger? Mana lit up the tip of his index finger, visible even to those unable to perceive mana usually. Slowly, he crafted a pair of runes that took form as softly glowing green figures. "Do you know what these symbols mean, Eluvie? They are ancient Vulaerian. The first reads 'unbound' and the second means 'earth'. That's what flight is. To be unbound from the very laws of the earth itself. Let's go be free for a while, shall we?" he asked with a small flicker of cheer. Her eager expression was rubbing off on him, just a smidge. With a gesture of his hand, the runes proliferated. One pair went to Eluvie, one to himself, slowly rotating around the both of them. Simply by willing it then, he rose off the roof a few feet, and extended his hand towards her. "Come, let's get drunk on a different kind of spirit."
  9. Rainza dashed through Tegrash's wards, and immediately moved to stand by his side like a guardian. Tarin impressed her by not dying, and dealing significant damage to their enemies. He'd not turned on them in this crucial moment, and so earned just an inch of her trust. Power built up in her left hand as she watched the approaching maw, ready to repel it should these wards not work as intended. Rainza's eyes, narrow and full of fury turned to Tegrash when she heard the sounds clawing from his throat. "TEGRASH!" she shouted, taking a half step towards him before realizing there was nothing she could do. Her head whipped back around to the struggling maw, and she snarled. A chain erupted from her right hand, anchoring into the earth at the maw's feet. With an explosion of Kinetic force, she launched herself into the air. A mighty battle shout roared from her chest as the chain retracted, sucking her earthbound. Her plummeting fist struck the creature's shell where it peeked through the ward, exploding in a blue flash of destructive energy that blew her tiny frame back. Without missing a beat, ignoring everything else, she rushed to her Warlock's side. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him before pulling him into a desperate embrace. "Tegrash! Tegrash...Tegrash...please..." she pleaded, on the edge of hysteria. What had his delvings into the dark done to him now?
  10. Avvercus assumed his usual neutral stance; a relaxed posture with his feet shoulder width apart, one hand on his hip, the other left hanging freely, and his eyes forward. The stranger said good things. More indication he was a person of positive moral standing, and a peek into his life beyond the stubborn grimace. “Do you believe in fate, stranger? A force that drives us all down a seemingly predetermined path towards a destiny we may or may not agree with? I can tell you it is real. I can see it, sculpt it, change it. Fate is a guideline, a safety rail that guarantees we arrive at a conclusion decided by our choices, and the decisions of those around us,” the man lectured, passion and validity bearing his voice through the air with an assured conviction that couldn’t be confused for blind faith. “Your choices have led you here, to be crushed by the fate you’ve sown. The same is true of those you and I have killed. But we can offer something else, another thread to spin, another chain to link. I spared those men to give them a final chance to walk a different path. Just as Evangeline is here to save you, and give you another chance. You don’t know how significant your destiny is, stranger. But I can see you will do amazing things with your life. The chains linked to you are many and great, and I refuse to let that potential be squandered. I’m not leaving you to die, and I am not telling that girl to leave. This is the fate she sows. If you wish for her to leave, convince her yourself,” he stated firmly, refusing to budge. “I suggest you sit down and brief the both of us on what we’re facing, and help me come up with a strategy to survive. As well, I’m going to need to see what you can do, how you,” he corrected himself, pausing for a moment. “...How you survive.”
  11. pff, don't ever talk to me or my slime daughter again
  12. Kal'to's boots shifted as he planted his heels into the sand and sank low, low enough that his eyes were on level with the tiny Drow's. His shield was raised at an angle with the pointed bottom aimed towards Lyra's knees as she rushed in, and low enough that he could just barely see over the top of the protective rim. His hammer was cocked back at hip height, ready to strike with all of his weight behind it. A confident smile crooked at his lips as a bead of sweat rolled past it. Still, he stayed humble in his mind. She'd earned his respect when the woman broke his guard while bloody and exhausted. He was ready. Golden eyes flicked up and down the Smith's body, studying the minutiae of his stance and watching for any movements. Time and time again Lyra had bashed sword against shield, and it appeared this battle would be no different. Having launched herself at Kal full force, the drow committed to her charge, maneuvering the blade as though to strike against his shield. At the last possible moment, her momentum shifted, a feint to the left and a quick swipe across the arm that wielded his hammer. The smith's eyes narrowed as she approached, losing sight of her footwork when she got too close. As trained, he knew that was the perfect time to strike. He pushed forward with his back leg, shoving a shield bash towards Lyra's face, interrupting her mid-feint. Normally he would have tried to stab her in the thigh with the pointed portion of his kite, but since this was nothing more than a spar he decided that was an unnecessary step to take. He resumed his defensive stance immediately after the bash, ready to counter once again. The push caught the drow slightly off guard, stopping her forward momentum before she could step to the side. Instead, she raised her sword and caught the bash before it could bruise her cheekbone. An ugly purple welt would not draw the kind of attention she liked. Pushed back a step, the drow canted her head to the left and grinned at her opponent. "Oh good, you will fight back! I was worried this would end quickly." Throwing a wink in his direction, Lyra swung the greatsword into a higher position, perpendicular to the smith's shield. A shiver passes through her body, ice rushing through her veins. The pulse of her heart begins to pound in her ears, sensitive tips twitching slightly as though looking for the source of the sound. This time, there was no feint. The drow rushed the shield, staying to his left side and keeping the shield between her and his hammer. Kal'to lowered his shield just enough that Lyra could see his grin. "Haha, you'll find I last longer than most men," he quipped before tugging his shield back into the proper position in response to her shifted stance. It was dangerous, a quick and heavy strike could be made from there, both offensive and defensive at the same time. So she did have some wits to her after, eh? She moved, and so did he. Sand flew as the smith advanced once again, a quick step that wasn't as aggressive as it seemed. His shield moved towards her face yet again, but it wasn't a bash. Obscuring her vision while also providing protection from a counterstrike, kal's hammer whipped low, aiming to sweep the Drow's left ankle out from under her. The warrior grinned, happy that Kal'to was going to more than just counter her strikes. Blocking provided a challenge, but it got so dreadfully boring to crash up against a wall of metal time and time again. Much more fun to dodge and parry, take a hit and return the favour. As the smith advanced, Lyra changed up her strategy. The adrenaline that coursed through her veins allowed the drow to push her muscles harder, performing feats of strength that would be nearly impossible otherwise. Forward momentum became a leap into her opponents shield, one hand releasing her sword and sweeping it off to the side. Both feet landed solidly on the center of the metal structure as it rose to meet her. The force would reverberate through the rigid metal, transmitting the weight of the kick directly into Kal'to's arm and shattering the bones. With a flourish, Lyra flipped off of the shield and landed solidly in the sand, grinning and panting slightly. Kal's hammer met nothing but sand, and immediately he tucked his shield back in against his shoulder on instinct. His entire body leaned in to tank what he thought would be a leaping sword strike. Instead, he felt the pressure of feet that pushed his entire frame sliding a few feet back in the sand. The sizable man grunted at the bruising impact, and knew his shoulder was going to scream at him in the coming hours. He lowered the shield, letting it hang while his arm recovered. He stared at Lyra in surprise, then flashed her an approving smile. "You prove size isn't everything," he joked, wanting to pat her on the head as usual. He spoke while kneeling in the sand, setting his hammer down and loosening the straps on his shield out of sight. Kal'to got to his feet and switched his stance up, holding the shield overhead and holding his hammer so it hung in front of his face and chest. He was preferably a defensive fighter, and the point of this engagement was for him to get a grasp of the type of blade he would forge the Drow. He would let her come to him once again. Lyra blinked in shock at the smith, impressed and surprised that the man had withstood her maneuver with only bruises to show. And he still wanted to fight! Seemed her new employer might not need as much protection as she had initially thought. And that meant that she didn't need to go easy on him now. As Kal'to prepared, the drow grasped at the threads of magic within her core. Golden irises seemed to become illuminated, sparking with energy as though electricity flickered behind them. The smith was in for a bit of shock. Placing both hands onto the greatsword's grip, Lyra raised it to her hip and pointed the tip to Kal's stomach. Once more into the breach, she thought, as her feet found purchase in the sand and propelled her toward her opponent once more. Caution flared into Kal'to's mind. Her eyes changed. Magic?. The smith was unaware his companion was anything more than a physical bruiser. He knew little about supernatural abilities, but perhaps he'd proven himself enough to the drow that she was willing to use something like that. He would tackle this the only way he knew how then. Rely on his skills and armaments and hope they pulled him through. As his opponent charged, so too did he. A growl ripped through his teeth, and his shield came swinging down just as his hammer cocked back, ready to follow up his parry with a strike to break her shoulder. Curved sheet metal met blade, turning it aside while the two moved towards one another. Victory flashed in his eyes, despite whatever arcane forces she was planning to unleash it seemed his strike would go through! Suddenly, all was pain. Muscled contracted as lightning coursed through him, channeling from her sword, through his shield, and into the smith's iron flesh. His hammer never swung as his body was unable to move from the shock. Forward momentum brought his bulk ramming into the much smaller woman, and the two collapsed onto the sand. Kal'to's hammer and Lyra's sword had been flung away during the collision, and the tiny drow's entire body, as well as her arms, were pinned beneath his mass. After a few futile moments of struggle, Lyra lay as still as Kal'to and both groaned. "...Hahaha. Shall we call it a draw, then?" he asked with a chuckle at the ridiculous outcome. She agreed, and the two lie in the sand waiting for the smith to regain sovereignty of his limbs. He could feel her. Tiny, soft, seemingly fragile beneath his deadweight, he knew that to be absolutely false. Turning his head, he met her eyes and blushed. Yet again, they were in such a ridiculous situation. Was there some trickery being wrought by a bored god around him? " fight well. I can definitely rely on you as a guard"
  13. Kal'to knew it. This one was going to be troublesome. She seemed to have no regard for her womanly allure, or how it was thrust at his manly spirit in the most will eroding of ways. Though inexperienced, he was a healthy young lady and had his urges. Chrysilla didn't even have the facilities and she still managed to trouble him, and Lyra's obvious interest and abashed nature made for a deadly combo. These women under his roof would be the death of him if he wasn't careful. "Think nothing of it. I'm just glad you're alright. I'll be right back." Leaving the not so well dressed swordswoman behind, he made for his forge where he kept his measuring rope. The Willand was bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside, but was mostly dominated by a living room/kitchen that led into the second largest room, that being his forge. The floor was polished redwood until you reached that room, where it was lined with a strange metal. He grabbed the rope from his crafting bench and made to return to the impressively hardy woman. He made sure to refill the waterskin for her on his way back, while thinking about how incredible she was talking about recovering in only an hour. Most that suffered that level of heat exhaustion were indisposed for days. Handing her the water, he asked the woman to sit up and spread her arms up. To his surprise, she stood. "You are...very sturdy. And tall, for a woman." he noted while taking the rope with knots tied into it and stretching it along her wingspan. He made a mental note of the measure of knots and did the same for her height. About 13 knots tall. "um...excuse me for this," he warned her before reaching around her front with the rope. His fingers brushed against her bust as he pulled it firmly around her back, making sure whatever he made for her was going to be properly tailored. He did the same for her waist and hips, as well as the length of her legs, nodding to himself and murmuring measurements as he committed it all to memory. Finally stepping out of her personal space, he rubbed at his red hair in slight embarrassment from their proximity. "well, go ahead and nap some more. I'll have clothing for you in a couple hours. Sorry, I didn't realize I only had a shirt in there. Laundry really does need doing..." He made a quick egress after that, heading for the forge and depositing her empty plate in the sink on the way. He ran the numbers through his head one more time to make sure he remembered, and immediately wrote them all down on a sketch pad on his bench. He reached into a chest sitting against the wall and pulled out a roll of soft white cotton, materials he'd picked up with Lyra previously. Black leather straps, small metal studs, and thread and needle joined it on the bench, neatly laid out. The Smith pondered for a moment before picking his pencil back up and he began to sketch and design. His work was always simple, but very functional. For his clothing, however, he'd been thinking about adding a bit of flair. Several minutes of drawing and erasing later, he had something relatively similar to Setsuna’s original clothing, with a Gallias spin to it. Lightly humming a song his mother often sang, he made his cuts in the cloth and leather. Fingers as rough and tough as the steel they worked proved they didn’t lack in elegance or subtly; The materials were drawn together and bound with perfect stitching. The footwear she had would need to suffice, as would her small clothes, for he was neither familiar with making female underwear nor did he have the materials on hand to make proper desert boots. Satisfied with his work, the making of which had been a relaxing two hours of work at a slow pace, he returned to his room. A groggy voice answered his knock, and he slowly cracked open the door and excused himself before entering the room. Goosebumps blossomed across his skin under the desert garb he was still wearing when he entered; apparently he’d adjusted the cooling magic a bit too strongly for her. Setting the bundle of freshly made clothes on the bed, he smiled. “Here you are, proper desert attire. I tried my hand at making it a bit more...stylish than normal. Let me know if you don’t like it or if it needs adjusting,” he beamed. He felt excited, as always, to hear back from his ‘customer’ about the products he’d provided. Knowing his craft made people happy was something he never tired off. Kal’to left the room to sit at his table which doubled as both a place for dining, socializing, and whatever else one might find themselves doing in a normal living room. The outfit was made of a light, white cotton. Tailored to fit Setsuna comfortably, the chest showed off her figure while also giving her breathing room. In his attempt to leave her plenty of room for air and keep the same cleavage she had in her original robes, he’d accidentally made it so that a large portion of the sides and undersides of her breasts could be seen. A series of light brown leather straps attached to more cotton formed sleeves for her otherwise sleeveless attire, both for protection from the sun and sand, but also light bracing for combat and adventuring wear and tear. The leggings hugged her hips and then became very loose and baggy all the way to her mid-shins, where more leather straps were found for the same purpose as the arms, with the added function of keeping her from tripping. A light cloak to cover up her exposed upper body whenever relief from the sun was needed to accompany it all, with a hood and cowl more than capable of keeping her hair and face mostly free of biting sand. He had enjoyed designing it, and was looking forward to expanding his skills in cloth and leatherwork in the future.
  14. Avvercus followed his host, keeping a few steps behind her for various reasons. One of them was an old habit for defensive purposes, an effort to keep himself and allies safe and able to react to an assassination attempt quickly. He'd not realized it, but his left hand was holding his empty sheath, with a thumb pressing up against a non-existent tsuba, ready to shift into an iaido draw at the drop of a hat. The sand soon gave way to finely crafted wood as the pair ascended a set of stairs that led to a wonderful looking cabin. At Kalmuli's gesture, he immediatley stopped moving and glanced behind his shoulder, not sure if she had noticed something. At her whistle, his attention came back around and soon he found himself face to face with a rather bizarre creature. Barney was his name, and whether he was sentient or capable of speech was yet to be seen. Avvercus took a knee when his hand was presented, coming down to 'eye' level with the creature and giving it a non-threatening smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Barney. I would definitely appreciate it if you didn't eat me. Or stab me, for that matter." The swordmage wasn't quite sure what to do now, so he just kept still. Was this like an attack dog being shown a guest that was not to be harmed?
  15. Discovering Kalmuli had been quite and adventure already. It was so rare to find another so embroiled in fate as he was while not serving his goddess. Crunching the grit of sand underfoot, Avvercus took his time looking around and admiring Kalmuli's estate. Just as extravagant and impressive as her mansion, he could already tell he was going to enjoy this vacation. A lively seaside zephyr rolled through, bearing aloft a warm gift from the water and with it the salty scents of a proper ocean. Opening his senses, the mage could feel the twisting, churning signs of magic cast here in the past. It seemed this really was a training spot, and it had indeed been used many a time by the weaver. He returned Kalli's grin and reached out to ruffle her hair. "Aye, true that. I look forward to playing with you here. A nice warm ocean should make for some good relaxation. So, what shall we do first?"