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Found 676 results

  1. Ataraxy

    The Reverie Ball (Open Hub)

    WELCOME TO THE REVERIE BALL! On the night of December 25th the castle of Andelusia opens its doors to all citizens of Valucre, far and wide, to come mingle and dance! The floor of the castle and the courtyard outside are all available for public usage. In all rooms there is music playing, each room playing a different song. Perhaps even a different type of music. Spectacular food is served in every room, though the Dining Room is where the most magnificent food rests. From snacks to full meals, everything someone would want lays upon the table. Despite the main food on the table is from Ursa Madeum and Taen, the side food comes from throughout Valucre. Those who participated in the ANT conferences would recognize the castle. However, this time, every room was decked in blue and green decorations. At least one unlit cauldron had been put in each room, some surrounded by wrapped presents without labels. The same day an announcement was sent out to the public and to those allied with Taen Empire. It stated that starting from the 25th of December, the Taen Empire would no longer be referred to as the Taen Empire. As of now, the Empire is switching to the name Veluriyam Empire. Although not known to the public, those with connections in Veluriyam Empire might discover the Veluriyam is a Mork'Outh word for Open Sky. Within the hour of opening the castle filled. Emperor Titus stands in the Sun Room, a glass of wine in his hands as he leans against the wall while he speaks to some Renovation dignitaries. The Ballroom is where Princess Teresa finds herself, dancing with one of her guards but keeping an eye out for someone not on her father's payroll. Someone not lame. Green means open; red means closed. @Tyler @Eternity @supernal @KittyvonCupcake @notmuch_23 @vielle @LikelyMissFortune @danzilla3 @Sleepy Seal @Grubbistch @Alexei @Witches Brew @Praetorian
  2. What are we going to do with her? What do you mean? Beyond the fact she eats everything, she is a squire. What’s her skillset? Her skillset? She doesn’t have one, that’s what is beautiful about it. How do you figure? She is a canvas, blank and pure, ready to become something absolutely wonderful and amazing or something unimaginably horrifying. There is infinite potential. It is up to us to help her find her way. That’s what leadership is, helping someone blossom into the best version of themselves. Empowering them to greatness. That sounds nice, but theory and practice are never the same. The trip from Last Chance to the Hills of Noddendoddy couldn’t possibly be any longer unless they had decided to make a pitstop at Patia along the way (Patia is completely out of the way) but it afforded Lyr and Ashton an abundance of time to not only become better acquainted but to also begin discussing her future within Justice. In fact, by the time they had traveled from Last Chance to Palgard, Ashton had become so intimately familiar with her dietary needs that he develops both a small debt and a training regime built around a constantly reoccurring snack time. Jericho, She eats a lot. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot. I physically can’t outfit the carriage with enough food. I can’t afford to feed her. I don’t even know where she puts it all. The last time we ran out of food, she kept eyeing like she was going to take a bite out of my arm. In Palgard we stopped to restock and I decided to get ice cream, not only did she steal the ice cream from me, but she nearly took my fingers off. She also ate the wax coating on a cheese wheel, along with the entire cheese wheel. It was a five pound cheese wheel. I’m starting to have doubts. Sincerely, Ashton It was for this sole reason that rather than going from Palgard to Tia and then Casper, they instead hit Tia, Ignatz, Dougton, and then Casper. The stop at Ignatz was completely necessary so that they could pick up a handful of books on the fundamentals of magic at Odette’s library. Needless to say, the brief layover didn’t go without incident. Jericho, We owe Odette a few thousand gold. While looking for books at the library I lost track of Lyr. It was only for a few minutes. When I found her security was freaking out because she’d eaten a few pages from a priceless cursed tome on the origins of necromancy. As far as I can tell, Lyr is okay. When I asked her why, she said it smelled like truffles. I think I need help. Sincerely, Ashton Having intended for the layover in Dougton to be a few days so that he could go over some finer points of swordsman ship with her, Ashton was once more foiled. The locals ended up running them out after only a day and half. Jericho, I think she ate an entire flock of sheep in one night, raw. I can’t prove it. She doesn’t remember doing it. However, the locals insist that a flock of sheep are missing and that someone saw her out in the fields with them that night. I’m marginally concerned for my own safety. On a slightly related note. A few of the books I rented went missing. I haven’t ruled out someone stole them or that I misplaced them, but I’m also not ruling out that she ate them. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have my library cards revoked. Please help. Sincerely, Ashton Fortunately, relatively to previous events, the transit from Dougton to Casper was predominately uneventful. Having developed a battle rhythm, Ashton understands the limits of bother her attention span and her appetite. Or well, rather, understands that her appetite is limitless and that her attention span fades at a predictable and constant rate proportionate to the last time she ate, regardless of how much she actually eats. Of course, the one night in Casper has some minor complications. Jericho, I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this. I know we need the rosebud and I know that you think this will be good personal development for Lyr and me. I understand that it is trust building and whatever else. I have been traveling with her over a week, she is a sweet and kind person. She has great moral convictions, but we can’t afford to feed her. I can’t afford to feed her. The burn rate on food is insane, we aren’t going to have enough supplies to make it through the Hills and back. I need help. Supplies airdropped in, more people with wagons of food, and a small party of people to make sure she doesn’t eat me in my sleep. If we airdropped her in Predator’s Keep, they would surrender to us within 24 hours because their edible and nonedible supplies would be gone. I’m not joking. She is a weapon of mass consumption. Sincerely, Ashton P.S. We owe a fishing company a lot of money. She ate their entire catch. Like their hull was filled with fish and now it isn’t. Upon reaching the outskirts of the Hills of Noddendoddy, Ashton made the unwise decision to camp there for the night. The next morning, while unexpected, didn’t surprise him. Dear Jericho, I hope this letter finds you in good health. I suspect that this is the last time I’ll be writing to you for some time. I also suspect it will be several months before we see one another again. We made it safely to the outskirts of the Hills and made camp because it was late. When I awoke this morning, the horses that were pulling our carriage, as well as the driver, were missing. I don’t know if she ate all three of them or not. I don’t really care at this point. I’m going to get the stupid rosebud, keep her from eating it, and then shove it down your throat when I get back. You have terrible ideas. This was a terrible idea. I don’t like you very much right now. I hope you sit on a tack. Sincerely, Ashton P.S. If she tries to eat me, I’m stabbing her. P.S.S. Please send supplies. Ashton sighs as he rolls up the piece of paper and attaches it to a raven’s leg. “Hurry, fly out of here before she tries to eat you.” The command as given as he tosses the bird up into the air. He follows it for a few minutes, watching it fly off into the horizon. Digging through the luggage attached to the cart, he begins to sort supplies. A backpack is loaded up with basic necessities: food, poncho, compass, map, shovel, sleeping bag, lantern, and paracord. In addition, several water bottles are attached to the outside of it. External pockets are fitted with a random assortment of other gadgets and tools that might otherwise benefit a stranded survivor. Shouldering the pack, Ashton raises his left hand up to shield his face from the morning sun as he measures its position in the sky. “It’s about a quarter of the way to zenith. We need to get going.” Pivoting toward Lyr, while dropping his hand, he motions with a wave for her to follow him. “Come on. Grab yer stuff and let’s get to getting.” The trek starts out silent, but it doesn’t last. “When we were in Casper, I heard a rumor that a few years ago small group of people not only found the artifact, but supposedly destroyed it too. I guess its healing powers are beyond supernatural though, because about a month ago someone spotted it embedded in an Ent.” Reaching into the side pocket of his pack, Ashton pulls out a bar made from dried fruit and crushed nuts. Snapping it into twos, he offers one half to Lyr. He’d made sure that her pack didn’t have any food in it. Although there was not telling what her grubby little fingers had shoved into her pockets when he wasn’t looking. “Month old information isn’t very useful, so we might be out here awhile. Trying not to eat everything within the first five minutes… please?” There is a near whining plead to his voice. What others might have assumed is a joke, was in fact a sincere and honest concern.
  3. Talia, the large island that sat under Athentha and Lyonesse remained silent, looming. They never got involved with the affairs of either island. But in the current wake of the demons, more and more appearing, the land couldn't sit quiet. Not any longer could it remain neutral to its sister islands waging war and killing innocents. In it's heart Talia needed to stand with what was right. The destruction of the Sakimura's last remaining child. She was the danger now, and not because the elders said so. Talia witnessed the horrors that came out of Athentha. Demons awoke and arose throughout Talia's cities destroying the peace they had enjoyed. They had no saviour, no demon hunter. They only had themselves and their knights. It was time to act, to reclaim their home. And it began with cleansing the demons from the island. The people would run through with weapons, taking down any demon they saw, even at theown cost of their lives. The land would burn. Saved from the darkness. If only that was true.
  4. Outsider. Unnatural. Heretic. Bittersweet were the epithets that tripped off the wagging tongues of those who could not appreciate Caeceila Glasmann's affliction. In their unflagging ignorance, the superstitious and the malcontent readily misrepresented Caeceila's motives and branded her with all manner of vulgar misnomers, none of which bear repeating, that overplayed her purported ruthless efficiency and insatiable lust for blood. Of late, Hell's Gate was a cornucopia of such rumors where the nobility was concerned, particularly in drinking establishments frequented by the lower classes. In truth, anyone who was anyone could testify that none of these labels applied to Caeceila, for definitive knowledge of her condition, at least among the powers that be, easily outpaced the gossipmongers' litany. Nevertheless, a convenient lie coupled with Caeceila's newfound notoriety had transformed her into a symbol entities with an agenda could assail. She was much despised by the downtrodden who had lost their livelihoods to astounding advances in industrial automation, marked forever as a noble who cared more for the welfare of strangers than the poignant suffering of her own people, and they sought to vilify her for that injustice whether or not she was a deserving recipient of their rage. Was it any surprise, then, that drunken rabble had assembled at the gates of the Glasmann Estate, brandishing crude, improvised weaponry, approximately a quarter of an hour before guests were permitted to set foot on the premises? Not at all. Nor was it especially alarming when the mob forced itself past the team of young, well-groomed servants unfurling plush crimson carpets in advance of whatever might constitute the evening's opening ceremony, hellbent on vandalizing Caeceila's property. It was the terror that gripped the intruders in the chaotic retreat that ensued, the sustained shrieking of adult men carted out on stretchers, and the wild-eyed stares of the handful who were silent that caused the local looky-loos to quietly disperse, leaving only the scarce few who weren't so intimidated by Caeceila's show of force that they dare not brave her lair and risk her wrath. When the servants were recalled and the stout, ebony gate slid aside, its steady, telescoping motions doing much to enrich the pageantry of the reveal, a cavernous expanse illuminated by an artificial star stretched out before the audience. A tremendous collection of life-sized metal soldiers, facing inward toward the crimson finery neatly draped over the mass of platforms spread before a fleet of luxurious hovercraft, chartered for the express purpose of conveying guests from the entrance to the estate to the manor's great hall, scintillated in rays of light cast by the setting "sun," a soft, white orb that engendered no discomfort in the eye when viewed directly. A host of six-legged robots, mobile artillery units, judging by their heavy-duty design and menacing black frames, skittered in the distance, their imposing armaments repurposed for the night's festivities, firing a ceaseless barrage of cylindrical canisters that erupted into fantastical shapes cut from brilliant light into the air above crowd. The air itself was sweet with the amalgamated scent of beds of magnolia and lilac in blossom, courtesy of a microhabitat enabled by the city's world-renowned magitech. Indeed, all kinds of flowering flora dotted the landscape, tended, as they were, by swarms of butterflies so garish their admirers might get the impression that they too dressed their Sunday best for just this occasion. Empty birdcages are suspended from towering trees, implying that the exotic songbirds they once held have been moved elsewhere until the fireworks show concludes. The palatial structure that serves as the Glasmann residence proudly stands in consummate contrast to the bulk of Hell's Gate. Artistry and craftsmanship adorn every shining facet of the ancient domicile. Each stone bespeaks both the longevity and prosperity of the venerable Glasmann line, as if the fates of House Glasmann and the city of Hell's Gate were inextricably interwoven in days of yore. Much of the central structure, in fact, predates what is now considered the basic infrastructure of Hell's Gate, painstakingly preserved from the first settlement and transferred to the modern age with a profound reverence for tradition that is so very lacking in a great number of Hell's Gate's modern nobility. All of the glasswork in the older sections of the manor has been recently rehabilitated, allowing the throng of onlookers to examine renditions of Caeceila's ancestors and key events in the history of Hell's Gate through various viewscreens in the hovercrafts as they soar toward the newest wing of the manor, a staggeringly advanced wing constructed primarily from concrete, steel, glass, and composite materials. Several other buildings are visible from the hovercraft, including a private airship dock, servants' quarters, and what appears to be a small communications center flying Drow colors, but none can hope to hold a candle to the sprawling behemoth that is the Glasmann manor. Almost universally, the atmosphere is charged with magic and excitement, for this is the maiden unveiling of the Glasmann Estate. The news crews that remain descend into a dizzying spirals of feverish activity as influential and inconsequential members of society alike are whisked, as one, into this veritable wonderland that was hiding beneath their very noses. Upon disembarking at the great hall and proceeding through its titanic, metal doors, all guests, having checked in with the servants manning the gates prior to their admittance to a hovercraft, are issued a magitech tablet displaying the itinerary for the event and assigned a personal servant who shall see to their needs for the duration of the event. After this, guests are permitted to wander the great hall and the lawn in front of the great hall with the caveat that the uppermost balcony, accessible by both a staircase and an elevator, is a restricted area. For the majority, there is little draw in scaling that cordoned off staircase, for the diversions available on the first floor, mezzanine, and lawn are guaranteed to entertain even the most boorish partygoer. From skeet shooting and dueling with foils to sipping aged Yamazaki whiskey, snacking on hors d'oeuvres prepared by a teppanyaki chef, and chatting about relics, tapestries, and hunting trophies locked in various display cabinets or fixed to the dark purple wall above the handcarved wainscoting before the roaring fire of the great hearth, all ought to find something they can enjoy until the event gets underway. Yet... The organizer of the event, Caeceila Glasmann, is nowhere to be found. As with the interlopers, this is no real cause for alarm... Except that those sensitive to the paranormal will sense that the veil is especially weak in this manor. Something is amiss, but there's no time to investigate now. A bell rings, signaling that the first round has begun. White leather armchairs, velveteen loungers, mahogany furniture, fur rugs, Byōbu and sundries have been placed on the mezzanine and the first floor to facilitate social interaction with the intent of strengthening Valucre as a whole.
  5. "The mind was a place of privacy, a place of secrets, and where great ideas come to be. But what if we could hack it?" The base was silent yet it was crowded, a meny around, walking quietly through the halls of concrete and metal. below around a mile underground lay a box and a prisoner test subject tied up next to it, it was occasional that testing of secret projects happened in this location (as its so secret im am liable to not give away any description of its location). this time however the test was neurological, to see if the test subject could be more then just influenced by phycic energy, but controlled, assimilated rehabilitated and the scientist had to make sure to impact that person permanently in someway. "Rotwell ,commander Holgan is arriving hes coming to check up on the project!" "Well then lets give this man a good show and tell then, not too much show though, we wouldn't want to take too much time." He said excitedly but quietly "Front and center" came in the Holgan quietly "why is there to be silence here? I wasn't informed about it" "Ohh not to worry, we were just informed yesterday anyways moving on theres the thing you came to see" pointing at the box as it began its testing phase. [Insert sci-fi sounds] as it came online. Nearly instantly the test subject began violently shaking and began screaming and yelling "Still just influencing the subject's mind but...its not actully controlling it, thats still a shame but were getting there, I mean attention to the screen" as he went to a computer on the side and pressed some keys that displayed the subject's brain and a energy signature attempting to break through the brain. "Yea the mechine attempts to 'drill' into the Victim's subjuct's mind iteslf" As the screens displayed that the signature wasnt getting all the way through the brain. Not yet.....
  6. Acies ab Vesania

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    Current Status Read Before Posting Tavern of Legend OOC Thread When you're ready to leave the TOL and explore Valucre, check out these transition suggestions. Note these are suggestions and you are not limited to the options detailed there. The Tavern of Legend is a jumping off point for new members, a sort of sandbox where new members can play with other new members while getting used to the site. This is especially useful for those new to online role-playing in general. Only members registered on the site for 90 days or less can post in the ToL unless otherwise approved (such as select events or mentors). We strongly encourage participating in Tavern quests and activities as a starting point, but this isn't required and a member can leave the ToL at any time. The new member guide can assist you as you go forward. The water cooler is a good place to check out when you're ready. You don't have to read the whole thread. Given the amount of new members that get funneled into the ToL on a regular basis, members aren't expected to read dozens or hundreds of pages. You read this post to get an understanding of the tavern, the last few posts to get a handle on what other members are doing, then you're free to introduce your character in whatever fashion you deem fit. The Tavern of Legend is an RP forum that is quasi-canon; nothing here is canonized as 'world of Valucre' lore, but its internal canon is consistent. Note that the tavern also "heals itself", so things like holes in the wall and accidental fires won't affect the overall aesthetic. What you do in the ToL can be referenced later on in other RP threads within the world of Valucre. Any quests you complete for the Tavern that take place in canon lands can be canonized as well. The Tavern They say the road to the tavern was once a nondescript journey, traveling through nothingness until you happened upon a quiet little hamlet out in the middle of nowhere. Farmers would wave, children following a short distance behind, curious as to your origins and intent. Only, things have changed now. You travel through lands scarred by fires and death, through an atmosphere of despair laden with only the slightest traces of hope. Burned down buildings are as common a sight as are the rats and vultures still searching for morsels. At this time, people still bury their dead- and there is many, while others hurry to get back within the cover of what remains of their home. Eventually, your journey leads you down a dimly lit path, finding that night has come upon you faster than you first expected. You come to a location said to be the corner of all existence, the point between the world of Valucre and all other possibilities. There sits a quaint structure, small and unassuming. It is only one story, hardly more than a shack, and certainly nothing like what was promised by those claiming to have once stayed within its walls. The paint is peeling, the sign is careworn and faded. Perhaps you feel cheated, having come all this way just to find some hole in the wall that gives only a welcome home to drunks too far into their cups to notice the difference. Still, there is an inviting smell coming from inside, a welcome change from the smell of death you left behind. Perhaps you should enter then, and stay for a drink or two. Even if this tavern is not what was promised, a drink and a hot meal would do you some good. And there you find that the Tavern is all that was promised you - and more. It reaches high, higher than you could have even imagined, the ceiling reaching hundreds of feet above. Layers upon layers of rafters fill in the gaps, where some patrons sit, served by a young man who traverses them with ease. Down below, the sprawling layout reveals a tavern with more than a dozen corners (each with its own table), despite the improbability. At the center of establishment is a large stage, where bands of bards play and leave- their lineup and styles as random as anything could be. Along what could be called the back, a long bar stretches out, ending at a doorway leading to the kitchens. Also in the back are stairs leading up to an upstairs that cannot be seen from here, and a door that leads down to the storage basement. Weapons can be checked at the door or brought to the weapons counter, where the character will be relieved of their weapon and given a chip when they're ready to reclaim it Staff The staff is varied. Some are transient, coming and going within a few days, and others are permanent fixtures of the tavern's setting. Some are from the world of Valucre, and others are wanderers from further off. The only constants in this ever-shifting tapestry are the core staff members who manage the tavern itself, each serving their own special function. Attractions Recurring Wait Staff Young Attractive Barmaid: Early 20’s, Green eyes and chestnut hair, with a noticeably large bust. Her name is Gwen. Young exhausted Barmaid: Just out of her teens, always looks worn out and haggard. Smaller frame on top, but generous hips below. Her name is Beatrice. Young scrawny barmaid: New on the job, looks nervous and eager to please. Often speaks in a rehearsed manner, quite rapidly. Tiny, but looks healthy otherwise. Average looking. Her name is Clair. Young man with dark skin and bare feet: The Rafters server, as nimble and acrobatic as an ape in the jungles, he was hired for his abilities to assist those patrons with difficult logistical seating placements. His name is Tova. Man in his mid-twenties, blond, frequently scruffy. Rather friendly, a bit boisterous at times. He gets along well with anyone, and is known for flirting with the prettier customers who don’t come in with obvious attachment. His name is Fjorn (pronounced Fee-orn). Woman in her late forties, wavy, short grey hair and blue eyes. She has no patience for the workers she thinks are lazy and will be quick to click her tongue and chastise slackers. She is stocky but short, with old battle scars she says she earned from "Fighting in the pits, earning her freedom with blood." She's willing to tell a tale or two about her past fights. Her name is Wentree. [Hired recently] Younger man in his mid twenties, about 5'10 but huge build and a bald head, with nearly black skin. He speaks with a mild accent, but he is happy to repeat himself when required--but you have to make sure he knows you missed it, because he has a tendency to miss those signs, among other things. He seems to zone out a lot, and will trip over objects too. His name is Fendrel. He does not flirt, as his Husband wouldn't like it. [Hired Recently] Young man with long, red braids and grey eyes. He is perhaps 18, and quite talkative. He has his left eyebrow pierced three times and both ears filled with hoops and cuffs on his cartilage. He sometimes gets distracted by the bard, or pretty women. Wentree frequently gets on him about staying about his work. His name is Mism. [Hired Recently] Toilet Scrubber Not all the dragons fell during battle. One so-called "Tom" managed to fall inside the range of Ghallen's protective magic, sparing his life when the Dragon Cultist General decided to hit friends and foes with a blast of necrotic magic designed to drain life from others. Ghallen later found him playing "dead" as he was told to, and could see that the dragon-kin really did feel bad about the whole ordeal--those cultists, they sure can be convincing! So, Ghallen got him patched up, but not all is amended yet. The Tavern expects people to earn their keep, and that those who wish to reform their way should do so through hard labor. Vaddock set the dragon-kin to work as the official toilet-scrubber, keeping the privies clean. So far, he's been doing a pretty good job. His name is Zezzicryt, but most just call him "Z." He is 7' tall, and rather intimidating at first glance, especially for those who fought them. The veterans of the battle eye him suspiciously, but Vaddock feels like he might really mean to turn over a new leaf. Nevertheless, he still has Hand keep a close eye on him.
  7. Broken Mask

    Chaotic beginnings

    Deep within the land amongst the hustle and bussle of a market towns in the remote floating isles. A hidden gem amongst those who kept their noses burried in their research only dream of, a black market for all of those not so easy to find articles that most shops wouldnt dare sell. Emmeline, made her way through the crowded market of the hidden city. She was in search of a black herb known of coal ivy said to grow where those of unatural life have been spawned. This toxic little plant made a kick to her explosive potions so that the undead would slowly fall apart after being hit with the potion of her perfected recipie. Though this was only one of the many rare finds she has on her shoping list. The chime of her potion bottle rang as she walked her cloak over her brightly purple hair. Her pale blue iris scanning over the stslls as she passed nothing struck yer fancy... yet.
  8. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    Area: 400,000 SQ FT Population: 1200+ The moon shone splendid white, in the obfuscated ominous sky, it was the main wellspring of light that could be seen for miles. Beneath its bright glow, lay heavy gates, icy to the touch should you dare open them. Revealing behind them the sight of a little grave yard. Owls, crows, and swarms of vampire bats shudder overhead, their silhouettes casting hazy shadows across the broken stones of those long lost and dead, their eyes watching you as you approach the Château. The uneven cobblestones underfoot, worn smooth from years of use, pitted from years of abandonment are littered with dead leaves and branches that crunch under foot. The path winds its way through a labyrinth of graves, hedges and leaf barren trees creaking in the wind. Pathetic patches of dead grass, dull and dim as though it had lost the will to live and quit its quest for growth. And a single desolate oak, influenced by the breeze whispering into the perpetual night with its leafless branches. All leading up to the grand Château Choisel. Enhanced as it was with foreboding figures and carvings, these Gothic touches stared out with blank marble eyes, gaping mouths, horns and claws spoke of vile evildoings inside. Château Choisel, carved and built deep into the mountain side, stood poised, its dilapidated exterior a mockery to the grandness hidden within. The way to the entryway was congested with hedges and briers whose thistles gave a last effort to stop an unknowing visitors progress. Pruned plants, long dead and abandoned flanked the steel swinging doors. They easily swing open with surprising silence, a sound counter to their dilapidated state. The ghost of hand on the shoulder, a puff of breath on the ear sends chills down the spine, characteristic responses to the sudden drop in temperature enough to drive one back toward the way they've come. The clucking from an imperceptible host and the flutter of movement just out of sight - all lead to one conclusion, this was not a safe place for mortals to tread. Counter to its exterior, superfluous and ornate with a desire for decoration; builders worked tirelessly to design décor and ornamentation to the Chateau. Patterns, shapes, and detail worked together to create a visual effect that was both imaginative and impressive. The interior of the Estate tended to be unique and rambling in its complexity. Multiple bedrooms, second-floor balconies, double doors, ornate stairways, and detailed interior trim. High ceilings, deep archways, carved woodwork, and ornate chandeliers set the stage. A formal dining room ensured enjoyable meals. A library stocked well with books and with a sprawling fireplace provided comfort and warmth. Spacious parlors located throughout the home provided occupants with formal living areas for welcoming guests. Parlors usually featured ostentatious décor such as tasseled draperies, heavy tapestries, dark wood, fireplaces with fancy mantles, and gilded wainscoting. - - - - - - - The Great Hall A multifunction room, the great hall was used for receiving guests and it was the place where the household would dine together, including the lord of the house, his gentleman attendants and at least some of the servants. From time to time it might also serve as the lord's courtroom. The decor as grand as it was imaginative, lent to the greatness of the hall and its importance. Paintings and tapestries, telling stories long lost hung on the walls, framing the ornate molding that encircled grand windows. The large bay window dominating the center wall, offering a glimpse out into the courtyard that lay beyond. The high ceilings supported by thick dark oak beams with paintings of the coat of arms looking down on the visitors, reminding them of who's benevolence they were seeking. A minstrel's gallery lay above the screen entrance to the hall, a little alcove from which music and joviality echoed across the expanse of hall and bounced gaily off the walls. At the other end of the hall, upon a raised dais, sat the head table, its heavy oak frame imposing to all who approached. Only the greatest of the great and most trusted of the Lord and Master would be honored a seat at such a prestigious place. Beyond the dais, behind a heavy oak framed door, the Lord and Master's family private rooms were concealed. A kitchen, buttery and pantry lay on the opposite side of the screen passage. Here lay the largest fireplace of the Chateau used for warmth and some of the cooking, so large a person could stand within it. It had an elaborate over mantle with stone carvings and plasterwork containing coats or arms, heraldic mottoes in Latin, caryatids and other adornments. Though the kitchen itself lies a level lower for the bulk of cooking. The great hall would be rigged with a listening device system allowing conversations to be heard in the lord's bedroom above as well as throughout the entire Chateau. The upper hall contained the Lord and Master's living quarters and bed room, a testament of comfort, lavishness and sin. Off one end of his quarters one had access from the external staircase tower from the ground-floor hall. The smaller ground-floor hall, directly beneath the Lord and Master's quarters, remained for receiving guests of social order. Its adornments and décor just as lavish as the great hall itself, a taste of the rest of the grandness that lay within. Teasing all who entered, filling them with a desire to be invited into the inner sanctum of their Lord and Master. Bed Chambers The Great chamber, the resting place for the Lord and Lady of the Chateau, lay above the ground floor hall. Its ceilings too painted with the crests of the families that presided within the residence. Walls draped with heavy tapestries, and windows that overlooked the courtyard. A large bed dominated the room, the dark oak a stark contrast to the tan of the plaster walls. Red drapes hung from the bed, concealing its comfort and warmth within. A set of lounging chairs were tucked to one side of the room, right near the fireplace. A place for the Lord to entertain his Lady....or other guests. A separate sleeping quarters was built into the structure for servants and attendants to sleep a short distance away from their Master. Ready to answer his call at any time of day or night. The castle hosted a myriad of other rooms, apartments built into the mountain as the residence grew. No windows graced these rooms, but the glow of candles kept it forever illuminated. These rooms were decorated and intended to hold guests rather than residents. Permanent residents were granted other small apartments or rooms based on their status and rank within the Coven. Each one a unique blend of its inhabitant and the history of the residence itself. All dominated by the dark oak that flanked the walls and ceilings in an attempt to support the structure. The Solar A private sitting room for the Lord and Master's family. Its intended audience the Lady of the caslte, a private and quiet getaway for her to hide from the noise of the day should she feel the need to. It is decorated with tapestries and paintings of various types, many pastoral scenes and landscapes. A fireplace not too large and not too small, decorated in a similar fashion to the great hall, hosted ornately carved oak. Upon it's mantle sat a grandfather clock and a vase full of black, thorny roses. It was a secluded spot, away from the great hall, located in the back tower of the outer Chateau, not built into the mountainside. Kitchen Located on the east side of the estate, away from the castle, covered by an arcade. Its location strategic in keeping the smells of smoke, and noise of the bustling kitchen staff away from sight and earshot of guests. Frying pans, pots, kettles, waffle irons, and utensils hang over adjustable cranes that could be easily swung away from the fires to keep them from burning or boiling over. Utensils were often held directly over the fire or placed into embers on tripods. The kitchen staff numbered in the hundreds, including: pantlers, bakers, waferers, sauciers, larderers, butchers, carvers, page boys, milkmaids, butlers and scullions. The kitchen was fully built and equip to handle to the stress of preparing two meals daily for several hundred people. A large woodshed located outside the kitchens held at minimum 1,000 cartloads of wood and a small barn held coal for burning. A pantry room kept the food, dishes and provisions stored and served. Sometimes it served as an isolation chamber for a naughty maid or disobedient page boy. The kitchen also boasted a larder and buttery located within its walls. Chapel Built with three levels, two intended for worship. Its plain decor and focus on worship pressing in upon its prayerful visitors the weight of their religion. The bottom most layer, located beneath the castle, was intended for the catacombs of the Lord and Master's family. The second level, a place of worship for the residents. The third, an ornately decorated level, complete with balcony and chairs that overlooked the second level, designed only for the Lord and Master himself. Off of it a small chapel, perhaps containing a relic, ornately decorated with gold. Cabinet / Library The Library, tucked within the folds of the mountain, was a testament to books gathered, well cared for and stashed away for centuries. Shelves lined the walls, their dark oak free of dust at all times. Comfortable furniture dominated the center of the cool room, the flickering lights from candles in hanging cast iron chandeliers lighting the room adequately enough to read. Hidden away behind a bookcase door, that only the Lord and Master would know about, lay a private chamber with the most valuable books. A place him to do his work undisturbed by guests. A gleaming desk made of mahogany was centered in the small room, a large wing backed chair situated behind it. Dungeon Located in the deepest darkest bowels of the castle, the dungeons hosted prisoners. Its dank walls leaked limestone water coming from inside the mountain, always damp and the air cold. Walls thickened and enchanted to block out the sound of screaming, agony and utter despair of those locked within. It featured no windows and no candles save the torches the jailers used to see as they navigated its narrow hallways. Prisoners were crammed into small cells with no place to sit, often dropped down into them from a trap door located above it. There they struggled in fear, forgotten, until their mortal souls passed from the world and left behind their rotting corpses and eventually nothing but bones and dust. A single torture chamber was situated in the far corner of the dungeons, filled to the brim with various tools of torture, they lined the walls. A long wooden beam that was situated over a stone basin was used to string up prisoners, the basin to catch their blood. Feeding Sanctum / Bloody Mary Tavern A sanctum of sin, located deep within the mountain, a "dungeon" of sorts, used for feeding. A series of prison cells hosted volunteers or varying races and types, all there for indulgence. Dimly lit for ambiance, the light from the cast iron chandeliers flicked across the plaster walls. In exchange for their services they are greatly compensated by the Lord and Master. On a wall opposite the cells lies massive double doors brimming with chatter and activity was the quaint Bloody Mary tavern. There, others residing in the Glen can come and partake in sins of a different kind. Injecting, snorting or inhaling their drug of choice, reveling in the ecstasy that is rush of chemicals. Aged alcoholic beverages of all sorts are available to the public hosted by two sister vampresses that have a knack for luring in susceptibile customers and seducing them, then drain the blood from their prey after they have been fulfilled in desire. Here too one can find and have the popular and invaluable Elixir of Life, for a cost. Customers are hosted in clean cells after their ingestion of the concoction and held 24hrs until after their change. Courtyard Walk through a set of large double glass doors located off the great hall and you will find yourself in a courtyard, whose rival knows no others. Hosting a variety of moon surviving plants, vivid and dark blues, pinks, purples, reds and greens dominate the landscape. Pathways weave through batches of poisonous and deadly plants. Here is the gathering place of men and women, all in an attempt to catch the attention of another. Whether their intentions good or bad, all gather here to try. In an abandoned corner of the courtyard lays a peculiar patch of carefully tilled and cultivated herbs. Out of place in such a deadly and beautifully dark courtyard, it is filled with bright greens, purples, reds, and browns. An enchanted, fake sun hovering over them to encourages them to grow in the perpetual night. Wooden stakes with strings tied to between them outline the perimeter of the herb garden, cautioning all not to step on the delicate plants. Similarly small wooden labels stick out of the ground next to clusters of herbs like fresh little grave markers. "Medical" Clinic Located off the courtyard, not far from the small patch of herbs, built into the remains of a garden house, lies the Medical Clinic. Its two front windows shaded over with lacy curtains, obscuring the scene within. Through a narrow wooden door with dirty and warped four square window at the top. Above the door, a white washed sign reading "Medical Clinic," leaves no mystery as to the structures purpose. Once inside, the large room is divided by a paper screen. The front of the room dedicated to treating the living, chairs, shelves, and a table are used to heal. Behind the paper screen, lurks a laboratory of haunting proportions. The shelves are stacked and lined with jars filled with various and strange objects, empty vials and needles neatly organized. A line of counters frames half the room, upon it sits a towering plant. Black in nature, with red leaves, if one were to look closely they would see the outline of razor sharp teeth within the beast. In the center of the room, a sterile examination table lay with a large light above it. Beneath it various tubes, syringes, scalpels and other tools. In the far corner of the room a large clear tube looms nearly up to the high raftered ceiling, currently empty. Looking up at the wood beam supported rafters one would see herbs of varying degrees of dryness. A rickety ladder tucked off to the side used to climb to its heights. The air smelled of basil, lemon and preservatives. The underground escape tunnels Beneath the castle weaves miles and miles of tunnels, all with the purpose of providing an escape for those within should the worst happen. The entrance and exit to them is only known to the Lord and Master.
  9. ((Hey everyone, this is my warm-up to getting back into writing. It's set during Lynch's arrival to Silver Harbor, after which we'll jump ahead a year and start the actual story. Feel free to chime in if your character wishes to get involved early on. Will be running some storylines here later on, just laying groundwork for now)) No one on the ship knew who he was. That was good. The vessel shuddered as the mooring lines drew taut, anchoring the lumbering ship into position at the city docks. Passengers still seated grabbed onto their belongings to prevent them from falling, and those impatient enough to have already stood were jolted about as the ship gently collided with the wooden ramp. A chorus of complaints muttered out from the array of citizens as they gathered their items, pulling bags from beneath chairs and the racks above their heads. From his seat near the back of the ship, Avarice Lynch took a sip of watery tea, contentedly staying in his seat as the rest of the ship's passengers burst into shuffling movement. He leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his well-trimmed black hair, and casting a gaze through the dirty porthole to his left. The sun was just beginning to rise over the houses and shacks of Silver Harbor, casting the city in a pale yellow light and turning the harbor waters to shining glass. Another clean slate. Another “fresh start”. A touch at his shoulder made him look up. His gnoll companion's mottled grey snout stuck out from the hood of its cloak, and a pair of yellowed hyena eyes peered out from the shadow of the garment. The beast held the handles of both suitcases in one hand, and jerked its head towards the exit with a grunt. "Yes. I suppose it is time again." He rose to his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in his long coat as he did. He strode towards the front of the ship, through the now-empty aisle, his posture straightening and becoming more regal with each step. It was a mask he had worn for years, but one that had faltered often in the past year. It would take time to become practiced in it again. A dockhand and a bored city guardsman stood at the bottom of the disembark ramp, patiently waiting for the last of the passengers to leave. Lynch set his most disarming smile in place and handed the guardsman his papers, complete with an elegantly forged seal, which had come at no small cost. The guardsman scanned the document with one eye, and looked up at Lynch, as if sizing him up. Only years of deception kept the wave of anxiety from reaching Lynch's face, and the smile held through the agonizingly long moment before the guard stuck his hand out, offering the paper back. They didn't know who he was. They didn't know why he had come to their little harbor in the Southern Swell. If they had, they would have thrown him in the ocean without a second thought. * * * * "It reeks down here." The gnoll huffed for the fourth time as they made their way up the creaking wooden stairs from the docks and up towards the small city of Silver Harbor. His name was Roht, and besides carrying all his and Lynch's belongings in both hands, he made it his mission to voice his displeasure at every turn. Lynch waved a hand dismissively as they climbed the steps. "That's opportunity you smell." "Yeah? Opportunity smells like salt water and dead fish." The gnoll snorted hard, as if to expel the sensation of Silver Harbor from his nostrils. "And not like silver at all." "It's not called Silver Harbor for its wealth, Roht." Lynch stopped halfway up the steps, and turned towards the sea, forcing Roht to lumber to a slow stop next to him. Lynch raised a hand to point to the southwest, where a pair of bluffs bracketed the long harbor near its mouth. "The setting sun crosses between the bluffs, and the light echoes from the limestone cliffs. The harbor gleams like a sheet of silver every evening. It's a beautiful thing." Roht grunted with disinterest. "It's beautiful, Roht." Lynch repeated, giving his guardian a sideways look. The sun was still high, and it would be some hours before the Silver Hour, as it was known. Lynch wished he could stay and witness it, but his mind was already accelerating through the steps ahead. "The things we build. All we accomplish." He allowed himself one last smile towards the sea. "It all begins here."
  10. Jai Nifarious

    The Mysterious Time Distortions

    The Deus Ex Machina <-These grounds are within my own mind. Long gone are the trap doors for my pride to constrict me to. I have been time displaced, micro managed by hands that are not my own. I feel that each interpretation of myself has attempted to stop me from realizing my full potential. Whatever secret they know about my actions, I want to experience them as well and see for myself. It's ignorant to continue to stay a slave to what I've been told. A puppet on strings...no longer. No longer will I allow my peace to be stifled by regret and wonder. I have to release this blade, wield it with my own hands, take control, and pull the wool from over everyones' eyes. Once I do this, all the mercy I've shown will be undone. I am reversing a choice I am meant to live with. I am asking for both Eternals to go to war on this planet... The good news is...the pockets of space time distortion all about this world will open gates that restore a portion of the power I used to seal the worlds. These thresholds can grant me access to so much more. I cannot just taste true power and leave it buried. If I collect from the time distortions....I can become whole again...it'll be at the expense of peace on this planet. Well, I dont owe this planet anymore labor, anymore nursing, anymore passes! This is about me now and I want my glory back! This planet has taken everything from me and I can't prosper from it? I cant have the spotlight? No, my power is my own. I will take it back. This feeling has me trembling with excitement. I have never been so power hungry, but now.... after struggling to kill a single succubus...I want this....I fucking NEED this. Before I am spent...I believe it's time to bring The Deus Ex Machina back to reality..-> -Time distortions appear throughout the world as the sword is removed from the stone. Treasures, Ruins, strange creatures, mythical beings, and infinite amounts of possibilities pour out. Overtime lands were changing, some from peril, some from fortune. A day goes by before the conjoined worlds' curiosities became an attraction. -
  11. Locations: Chateau De Choisel - Quin’s Lab, the gardens and the labyrinth. “Das ist Ira.” Quin slurred “IRA. Wenn du ihn siehst, verletze ihn nicht.” This is Ira...I-R-A, if you see him, don’t hurt him! Quin was holding up the only picture of Ira she possessed, normally hidden away in the depths of one of her drawers where she was unable to look at it, her drunken and drugged out.state allowed her to carry it with her where ever she went. She waived it in front of Otto, who sat on the ground in the gardens. He was crushing a black rose bush under his bulk as he sat there cross legged listening too her intently. She’d taken to calling herself “mommy” when she was in this state, insisting she teach her ‘baby’ his duties. This just so happened to be the day that he was slated to go wander the labyrinth and keep intruders out - all except Ira of course - which in Quin’s current mind set - she was poisitive that he was going to magically appear at any moment. His picture told her so after all. Otto just continued to breath in that raspy watery rattle he had while she lectured him. ‘Wenn es Ira ist, bring ihn zu mir, direkt zu mir.” She continued, swaying a little, “Versuche nicht, ihn zu essen, nicht einmal einen kleinen Zeh! Verstehst du mich?” If you see Ira, bring him directly to me....Don’t try to eat him, not even a little toe, do you understand me? She waited until she saw him nod and nodded too, sitting down on the ground as well as she was quite dizzy and the dust was wearing off. She felt tired, exhausted, like she needed more. But no she must sleep, and she must eat. “Gut. Sie können alle anderen töten. Mama wird ein Nickerchen machen. Du übst ein wenig in den Gärten.” Good, you can kill everyone else. Now Mommy is going to have a nap, You can practice in the gardens while I’m gone. She swaggered to her feet and stumbled into the lab where she had a cot waiting for her to sleep it off. Her head already killing her from her latest drinking bender, she grumbled a little and closed the door behind her, hoping to get some undistrubed sleep. Otto watched her for a moment, then given full permission for destruction, which he so loved, leapt up and with a roar began to parade around the gardens, smashing plants, gazebo’s and terrorizing the servants that were wandering about instead of where they belonged. Quin rigged a few cadavers to hang from the hedges for him to find as an exercise. She made sure they were really secure so it would take him some time to get them before he could eat them. A busy - creature - was a happy one after all. Soon he would be ready to wander the Labryinth, terrorizing the occupants in it and destroying the tombstones and vaults. Happily busy with his job, until then, the gardens would take a beating, as would the rest of the outside areas to the Chateau that he happened to wander into, like the courtyard. @Greenmntman @Etched in Stone @Twitterpated @Eternity @HumanBean03
  12. Grubbistch

    In Gaia We Trust

    Good can only triumph when someone stands up to the darkness and shouts defiantly into the void. Illyana read that somewhere, though the title of it now escapes her best attempts at recollection. Regardless of where it came from, the words still held truth within them. It has become her mission to follow these words, and to defy the darkness with every fiber of her being. There was a knock upon her door, and a voice calling out. "My Lady, are you ready?" "Yes, Maria, I am ready." Since waking from her fitful dreams she has been praying to Gaia, hoping for insight and guidance towards the goals she has set out for herself. As always, guidance was difficult to come by from a metaphysical being, but she was confident Gaia heard her prayers, for she had welcomed the goddess into her heart completely. With the support of her matron deity, the young Lady of House Uldwar felt she could withstand any storm, walking out of her chambers with confidence and pride. This is to be the day the light returned to the islands, and people could feel hope once again within their hearts, even with everything around them being so difficult and trying. Accompanying her was her bodyguard, selected personally by her father, meaning it was one of the members of the intimidating Dogs of War. His name was Sir Aron Redford, a reserved man that showed great spirit when roused into worship of the earth goddess. A paladin he may be, Sir Redford could still be just as savage as the rest of them, that much she knew by the order's reputation alone. Hopefully he could restrain himself during their time of charity and giving back to the community. "Lady Uldwar." Sir Redford said as they exited the Keep. "Why are you dressed so plainly? Do you feel you must be disguised while out in the streets?" Instead of her usual fine clothing, Illyana had chosen simple white linens that made her look more of a healer than a noble. "During this time, Sir Redford, I am going to be very close to sick and injured people. Jewelry and silks get in the way of trying to mend those suffering, don't you think?" Nodding, Sir Redford began detailing the other details of her protection detail. "We have hired extra protection for you today, Lady Uldwar. They will be here within the hour when the boat arrives. We have also received word that a shipment of grain was coming in from Corinth, from a vassal of House Hildebrand." "Send word to the pier that shipment is to come directly to the temple without delay. The De'Laire family have been very generous to provide food for the needy people of Ursa Madeum, they deserve to travel unmolested." Gaining the support of others was a blessing, and she had made many promises to make it up to them for their help. Payments already given, and now they simply had to await it's arrival. "Yes, my Lady." When their walk had ended, Illyana and her group had arrived at the temple erected just recently, welcomed by the priests who made this place their home. Knights spread out to form a defensive line, Sir Redford staying by the noblewoman's side for protection, and Illyana went to work preparing the set up. "People are already starting to come in. We need food and drink ready for consumption, fresh bandages and wine ready to boil. From what I understand the bugbears of this island are going to be coming here as well, so keep your fears to yourself or else you'll give them the wrong idea." Human, elf, goblin, all deserved the love and grace of Gaia. By Her will, Illyana intended on sparking a new wave of religious conversions, and to save the souls of the people on these islands.
  13. HeavensDarkestAngel

    Forgotten Lore Tavern and Inn

    Welcome to Forgotten Lore, a modern-time fantasy play-by-post roleplay. Strong and starting roleplayers alike are welcome to join our little community and adventure with us. All types of fantasy are welcome here as are all players. Be respectful and follow the standard rules as well as the few other rules of the establishment and enjoy the ride. The following front pages will contain more information about the roleplay and what is and is not acceptable here. Feel free to read and ask questions if you have any.
  14. Aleksei

    Wandering Roads

    “Listen, I just wanted to know the price on this scarf and nothing else!” Like talking over a storm, he thought while wearing an exasperated lopsided smirk. The woman didn't like him, and that's perfectly okay in his book, he didn't harbor any love for her either, but damn it! All he wanted to know was the price; it's not like he insulted her ancestors or anything. The likelihood of him buying it was extremely high; was the right color of red, fit just like a glove, and he could justify the purchase. Her ranting and raving at him were only knocking the item down in price, and he was becoming extremely irritated by her attitude. She said something that made him look down at his appearance - come again? He'll have her know that his armor was the best and just because he chose to wear it fashionably doesn't make him some haphazard knight. There are generations and generations built into the black armor, he’s not going to let some wrinkled old hag insult him because he may not fit in with the rest of the crowd. What gave her the gal? The man stood six-feet and at least - at least! - five inches and she was standing up against him like he was just a breeze to her mountainous impersonation. “Listen! I will give you what you want for it, just stop yelling at me!” Harshal said a prayer for the old woman’s family, because if she was his granny … “Wait, what?!” Just as he fished the coin out of its pouch, she slapped him with a preposterous number. He looked at her like she had three heads (matching the current two already protruding from her short frame). “Who has that kind of money?! It's a scarf, a scarf! Did the All-Creator wipe her ass with it?!” By this point, a small crowd of onlookers gathered around the stall to put their noses in not their business. Entertained by the sight of this giant man arguing with an old woman, some felt the need to stick around and see who was going to win this tug-o-war. Harshal is not going to bend knee for this hustler in wrinkles; he is also not leaving without the scarf. Now just a matter of principle, she was wasting his time throwing numbers she’s probably pulled out of her ear, but he’s no fool. He could care less if she’s a lady probably older than dirt itself, she started this whole thing by being snooty with him, and he’s not going to back down. @ourlachesism
  15. Rin threw Sayndar to the ground as he came running at her. The rain drowning out his cries as it fell down heavily. Sayndar rolled against the ground, his sword falling to the side as the princess of Athentha made her way towards the hero of Lyonesse. That was his title, his proud achievement of defeating her those long years ago. That day he ripped her eye from her skull. Yet she didn't do the same to him. Picking him up from the back of his collar, she snarled. Nothing left in her eyes as she would make him suffer. Sayndar would have let her but he couldn't let the land fall to her hands. Her dark vision. His hands grasped her arms backwards to singe her skin. Rin hissed in pain as she released him. Sayndar with his last ounce of strength ran at the half breed and slammed her against the tree. He then collapsed into unconsciousness... --- Sayndar gasped as he awoke in a small enclosed camp. Those cold memories trying to suffocate him as the sweat fell down his face. Gripping the sheets as he sat in the bed, he had this dream for a week now. As if it was haunting him for a reason. And he didn't know why. Salsa leaned against the wall, her arms crossed against her chest. Her elf ears peeking out from black blue curls. Her yellow black eyes hauntingly staring at him. She was dressed in the usual resistance garb. About time ya awoke Capt'n. You've been asleep for days now after we found ya beat'n by the princess. She cut yer body up real good. Fin'lly had to shoo her off ya with that old magic tactic. "Salsa, it wasn't that easy. We were evenly matched. I thought I could redeem her this time. Show her the light. We've lost her to that villanous cur's magic. I--I--" Salsa put her hand up as she tried to ease the man's worries. Sayndar sighed as the resistance was growing in numbers yet at the same time couldn't fully go against the half breed and the man running the show. Capt'n, don't stress so much. We'll free yer princess. It will just take time. Plus we have to retrain a demon hunter again. Afraid he got eat'n by the demon raven. But the knights of Gemini Phoenix are here. Sayndar sighed shaking his head as he stood up. Yes, the knights were here to help build numbers in their ranks. Yet, he felt they weren't enough. He told Salsa he was off to see Cid. Waving her off as she stood there in silence.
  16. Fallen Joy

    Dancing Through Deserts

    There was a forgotten time within Bairville, where a beautiful performance was once held. A time when a desert flower opened her heart through music and dance, blossoming pedals of joyous freedom and mythical talent. Gold streamed from the hypnotic bends of her caramel fingers, rhythm surreally rolled from a body possessed by the ocean. Her rolling hips were waves, slithering and gliding with marvelous grandeur, and the bending arch of her back cascaded her tresses like falls of great water. In this forgotten moment where mystical dreams manifested into reality before a mesmerized audience, this nameless flower was permeated in ecstasy. She crossed the ties of the mundane and extraordinary. broke the barriers between heaven and earth. And as the melody embraced and made love to her soul, she felt the true purity of freedom through dance. But as with the fate of all purity, wickedness cast its chains and shattered the music. It ensnared her dance and purloined her freedom. The flower was shut away, into darkness. With time, the precious existence was forgotten. The sun of the Velhatein Desert settled behind ascending mounds of drought laden earth. Its licentious fingers extended across the sky and made the clouds blush. Beyond and below the vaporous display, there was naught but shadows thickening into black. The ebony shrouded the shapes of the landscape, cursing the daylight colors into ambiguous contours that broke the horizon like broken backs of fallen soldiers. Truly they were broken skeletons of prehistoric creatures. Within this aphotic landscape, the twinkle of a lone campfire dared to take a stand. Sitting within its rebellious orbs of amber, was the forgotten desert flower. Reflection of the embers licked up her endless raven streaks, shimmering off the silk textures whilst teasing her desert toned skin with whimsical light. Rusted chains rattled from her bound minuscule wrists, slithering to the rims of her ankles. Her face was down, forehead nestled into the curve of her folded knees, and through that curtain of locks, piercing blue eyes stared aimlessly. Her nude lips were agape and breathed soundlessly, her breasts heaved and compressed into the cushion of her thighs, and beneath its cavity, a heart pumped. Yet her eyes, the lack of luster and vibrancy, revealed nothing but death. Three men heavily clothed in Saharan attire also rested around the flames, their dirty hands breaking off pieces of stale bread and shoving it into their mouths. They were quiet, most of their faces covered in scarves with slits of food and sight. Their eyes were cold and irritated, burdened by lights wrinkles suggesting their middle age and chaffed from desert winds. “This is the last of our provisions, we will not be able to stay in the mountain for long,” said one of them as he finished his bread his voice as gruff and scratched as his fingers. “We are also low on gold, how much longer before our contact returns with word of the rebellion?” “It was supposed to be three days ago, something must have happened.” A silence fell over the men again, the diminutive rattling of chains suggesting the imprisoned woman had moved. “The king only has another week before we punish his lack of compliance. It's been two weeks now, and we’ve had her for a month now." “He’s being a stubborn old fool, he will respond. We just have to wait.” “We have to find a way to make a coin if we are to survive another week. If we steal too much, it will draw unnecessary attention from law enforcers.” “Perhaps there is another way,” one of the men turned slowly towards the woman, eyeing her for a long moment. “The people of Genesaris are unlikely to recognize her. Perhaps we can use her to our advantage…” The chains rattled again, the forgotten woman lifted her head. Deep hues shifted to gaze at the men through descending bangs, a spark of life twinkling distantly within her once dead sea. When dawn broke over the world the following morning, flyers floated around the Yum Janus tavern near the outskirts of Joran City. They found their ways into people’s things, under their bags and pillows, and even tucked within their pockets. Upon the parchment were words of golden ink, cursive with living streams of light within the letters. Come witness the spectacle of a woman enchanted by a grace and beauty you have never seen. Witness the rare advent of people from the Velhaltein Desert. Her mesmerizing movements will seduce your dreams to reality. She will purloin the tribulations that haunt your mind for a single night. Come, and be blessed at midnight, by The Dance of the Desert Flower. The word spread rapidly. Mere mystery of how the parchment found its way into the most protected of spots allured people to the tavern. It was in the rear of the edifice, a circle of torches scattered through the empty plain. Their glows shed delicate light upon what appeared to be an unremarkable platform of an reflective ebony mineral. The full moon was out, its virgin glows eerily shimmering in streaks across the silvery sheen, intermingling with the flashing quips of the reflected flames.
  17. (OOC note that this takes place a couple of months before hand, which was when it was originally supost to be made) "There are places to be and things to do, everyone has a job, there is work to be had and people acquired, everybody has a purpose, there are lands to defends and land to leave, there are people to save and people to leave. The choice of fate lay in those with the power to do so. Yet to those that lay powerless there choice is determined by fate" It had been over an hour since the sun came up and what a cold morning it was. Dispite it regularly being hot and arid in the kingdom of Lexdord however it did happen at Certain times of the year. The wasteland plains that streched for tens or even a couple hundred miles beyond the city limits would look discuraging for those who weren't used to it. Yet to those who were recalled it as a normal thing, to some it even appeared to be a sanctuary as there were really no real wild dangerous monsters going about or any of the troubles that come from other lands, empires or nations. Particularly Lexdord was a very safe place to be in or at the most safer then most. Yet there was that famine problem, and having nothing but wasteland to cultivate didnt really help the situation which was trying to solve itself. The goverment had looked over diffrent lands, they would seek a colony in the north dedicated to just farms but they realised that they didn't have enough man power to create one that would remain stable for long. It take long though, they had a plan to put into action. What was this grand plan? To go into the lands of Alterion and begin advertising their sanctuary as a prime location to be in saying that future generations would be in safe stable hands "Dont you want your child to see the world not as a playground of just bloodshed and suffering?, dont you want to look at your children and not have to tell them that death is near?..... Lexdord where the future is protected and cared for" Was the voice of a female projecting off of an ad Air ships which included 3 transports a battleship and a Pincer class ship (A class which are able to exceed extraordinary speeds but however only have few point defence guns as their weapon) lead by Commander Titian were soon enforced to collect those willing to leave a land of sufferings and enter a land of peace and security And Work.. "Report?" She asked the computer -Status of weather conditions are recovering it is safe to travel through now- it had displayed "Para warp report?" -Ready to launch- "Set a course for Alterion smake in the middle of the primitive lands! And extend the field to the rest of this fleet" -Affirmative activating Para drive protocols and informing crew with 30 second delay- The humming of the Para could be heard in pulses, at the same time the area aroubd the airship and the airships following began to wrap and become increasingly distorted as the Para's electronics were bending literal reality just to reach its destination. -30%....42%- Not a suprise that it take awhile for it to engage but it was taking its time -67%..................89%- The crew began to get into seats -93%.........100% 30 second delay active- The crews from the other 5 ships were preparing as the synchronized countdown continued -10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...Engage They suddenly saw the land melt away as colors blended together, this didn't last long though as soon within under a couple of minutes the colors around reconfigured themselves to reveal the lands. "The first of meny to soon have them travel to Lexdord"
  18. Mend

    Persona EX (Persona RP)

    OOC: This is a Persona based RP, you don't need to know much if not anything about Persona to join, there will be no spoilers for the main games as this does not relate to the main games at all, think of it like a spin off To join just fill out this bio and put it into a post, the combat in this is mostly free form. As per usual in Persona you'll still be highschoolers. The start takes place in your characters moving to a new dorm high school on your third year. Keep that in mind for your background, you can choose to either live in the dorm, an apartment/house alone, or an apartment/house with someone, though I'll need to know who that is Bio: Name: Age: Gender: Persona: (Feel free to either pick a Shadow Or Persona from the actual game or make your own, pictures are free to use) Persona's Main Element Strength/Weakness: (Pick an element for your persona to be strong and weak in. The elements are the same a Persona 5, physical, gun, fire, ice, lightning, wind, psi, nuclear, light, and darkness) Appearance: (Description or picture) Personality: (Optional) Background Info: (Optional)
  19. The island of Amalia, isolated from the rest of time for so meny years life forms thought to have gone extinct during the early days of civilisation live and some still thrive to this very day. The fact that this island had an existing hive mind or semi-hive was of great intrest to Lexdord. Although one might find it strange that Lexdord wasnt interested in the others that had been discovered like in taen. The answer to that would be simple...you see these were one of the less hostile hive minds that have gone around, not to mention they were quite underdeveloped in terms of economical efficiency their technology however was quite equivalent to most civilisations heading straight foward into the information age. ----On the Airship "This place is perfect for beginging our corporation!" Segi had screamed excitedly. The rest of the crew nodded as the airship began to land lightly on the beach of Amalia, upon looking he saw quiet untamed mountain like wilderness yet behind it he saw the life of a settlement. "Look there it is, now begin setting up advertisements....we'll need all we can get"
  20. Hurttoto

    Solving The Famine

    "Famine, a scourge that always had threaten the stability of a diet, it caused by hunger of the people would always be present,but today the scourge shall meet its first fallings"-King Lewis Tis was a normal arid day in the kingdom of Lexdord. The skyies with clouds streaking across like missle trails or jet trails, as they leave their exhaust. But today yet again begin the threats of riot caused by this hunger. Dispite the influencers powers it could no longer hold them back. It was alone, against almost a million minds and now it became overwhelmed. "This stupid thing! Always gafailing at the worst times!, who ever wanted this ancient device clearly never saw its limits!" Said a technician who was looking at it inside and out. "Yes a bit outdated but it survived, plus we can. Always upgrade it to updated standards" said Rotwell But lets not pay attention to that -----elsewhere in Lexdord city In one of five generic (boring) schools at a science fair were a child namex Rachel Oli had "Water as you might already tell can retain and contain information the same way memory chips do except better much better, Now I was thinking that by using radiation we could do stuff like transport goods from one place on the world to another insta-" At this point the judges had begun walking away (rude ikr) but it was due to fact that well there were already meny other ways and they just plain didnt like the idea. "..........well then dont worry I have.....ummm a second project that is...well REALLY IMPORTAINT...LOTA MONEY INVOLVED" that part was sorta. True,to create the mechine she had to over a course of a year buy parts the altogether costs around 789,652 common diamonds (or 1,124,665 U.S dollars) which is buy itself alot of money. Origanly it was built for the purpose of getting herself into her scientist career or perhaps even starting her own company, like meny others at her school who all wanted to become similar things "Let me tell you about something revolutionary and exciting, something also including water"
  21. AT THE FOOT OF TAEN'S MOUNTAIN RANGES IN SEARCH FOR THE HEAVEN'S ARMOR (S-CLASS ARTIFACT) "We going on a mountain We going on a mountain La la la la la Mountain, mountain la la la Hiking, hiking la la la Trekking, trekking la la la" The singing was awful, the trail was hard to traverse and the artifact in question was buried so deep in the mountains of Taen that Middy had no idea where to start. She had heard stories and fables, and she knew that most fables and myths had some form of truths mixed in them. But why would the mythical Heaven's armor be buried deep within Taen's mountains? Some say the knight hid it in this region, some say bandits took it, some even say it was cursed and had to be hidden from humanity. One thing is for sure though, that the blasted armor is hiding somewhere within this mountain. But that is why the Mistress brought Aslom the Black As Oracle with her today. The queer woman may talk in a strange language but no one can deny her ability to foresee the future- "Oh we going on a mountain Going up high to meet cotton candy clouds Up the winding mountain trails Shivering in cold until we reach the top La la la la la-" Once more Middy's thought were interrupted by the awful singing. With a scowl, she turned around to face the culprits. It was Khaki, Little Sans, Little Nats and Little Sammy, all holding hands and skipping in Middy's wake. She's supposed to be angry at them for being so irritating but seeing them enjoy their precious childhood, Middy could do nothing but but chuckle bitterly at their childish antics. Ignoring the foursome, she took point once more and lead the crew deeper into the mountain trail. @ourlachesism
  22. Cothmas was always my favorite time of year. Something about the cold and the snow made everyone get a little closer. I don't know, it always felt that way to me. I loved playing with the snakes when I was a boy, I'd laugh when they'd roll around the living room with me, or play fight me with their fangs still retracted. As the night drew on, just before they'd vanish back to god, my parents and my grandfather and I would just sit with the snakes for a while in front of the tree, with all its many colored fires, and eat our Cothmas candy and just be for a few minutes. Be together. Be at peace. I didn't mind it when I was a kid, but I really get it now that I have kids of my own. Once the snakes went back to god, though, that was when my favorite part of Cothmas would begin. I'd kiss my parents good night, gather up all the silly presents I'd gotten and meet grandpa in my room. He was always waiting there, seated beside my bed, storybook in hand. Cothmas was a time for family, I knew, but now I think he rode the Bullet Train all the way from Temple City into Coth's station just to make sure I heard the story of the first Cothmas every year. He's one of the few people from my childhood whose face I remember exactly. Sharp eyes. That big bushy mustache, and those eyebrows, and the wild swept back hair in a tangle of smoky grey and white . The man had never seen a brush, I imagined. That's wizards for you. I'd vault in to bed, pull the covers up and give him a solemn nod. Nothing more needed to be said, and he'd crack the book open beside me and begin, "Cothmas is god's day." he would always start, "In the very beginning, when god was still new and Coth was a tiny little village unknown to the rest of the world, Cothmas became as we know it today. Constans and god's Chosen Scrivener Ioreth tell the story thusly:" The story of Cothmas is steeped in the deepest solemnity and devotion to god. The tale is one of great triumphs over wild forces, and the binding together of a holy family of friendship. It contains strange creatures, great conflicts, and heroic efforts acted out by not only we two writers, but by some of our dearest and most faithful friends and servants of god. Originally, Cothmas had begun as Coth's Mass, an invitation to all faithful people to pilgrimage to Coth and together as one single faith fall to our knees before god and thank him for finding us and for saving us. Yet near the time the special ceremony was scheduled, indeed the very night before, god placed before his most devout servants something of a test of character. The travails of this night inspired so many of the Cothmas traditions we know today that Lady Ioreth and I have come to believe it is worthy of a proper retelling, to set the matter straight and educate all Cothites as to why they enjoy some of the strange and miraculous things we've come to expect from Cothmas. The story of Cothmas begins when I was praying in the cellar of the Church, on my knees thanking god... "Ioreth." Constans moaned, "Where do you get this stuff?" He took another huge gulp of the honey-wine. He was in the elf's new parlor. "This is the best thing I have ever tasted." he said, holding it up by his shoulder. The snake around his neck piqued up at the glass, nosed at it some, and dunked its head in, lapping twice at the sweet wine before resuming its place asleep upon its master. Constans was sitting on a creaky rocking chair, his sleeves pulled up and his cloak thrown over the backrest. His tan boots were at the door, which left him looking a bit plant-like in his green doublet and brown leathers. He had been the first to arrive for the very informal celebration before tomorrow's ceremony. A little socializing, a toast to success tomorrow, and an early night seemed to Constans the picture of a good Coth's Mass eve. It would be a nice tradition to carry into the future. Ioreth was right, everything he did was so public. He deserved to enjoy a relaxing night with his friends. "Not to make a big deal out of it tonight, but there are some people coming in the next week or two, dignitaries from a place called Temple City, up north. They say they want to hear about our god." if he sounded skeptical, he was. He'd heard tell that the green sun had been seen much farther away than the borders of Coth, but even still newcomers inquiring about god so soon were either hucksters or, more hopefully, divinely guided. "I just wanted to make sure you'd be around. They claim to be a order of knights." he said, helping himself to another mouthful of wine. It was so sweet he could barely taste the alcohol at all, which made it very easy to drink! @KittyvonCupcake @Spooky Mittens @Better Than Gore @LikelyMissFortune @Fennis Ursai
  23. Die Shize

    The Traveler's Tug

    Theme[spoiler]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lMbVzFtvM8[/spoiler]   Acreos had been traveling all night. He was exhausted. Fatigued. Famished. His black beard somehow felt like weight on his face, eyes stinging, body weak. He had lost his caravan to bandits. His men, his coin, his supplies—gone. Ashville, he hoped, would offer valuable enough restock to get back on track, but for now he was a merchant whose fortunes had become fines, and whose pockets of depth had become pockets of debt. He had put everything into that endeavor. Everything…   Well, at least tonight he could afford himself some slivers of solace, actually managing to find comfort in the drink and the food and the warmth of the inn he had decided would be his resting place for the night. The Traveler’s Tug was positioned about halfway in between Ashville and the Forgotten Wood, allowing a resting period for anyone traveling in either direction. Though enjoying a consistency of customer activity, the inn was no fancy establishment, preferring simpler architecture and basic layout; the 'everyman's inn'. Located where flat grassland began to take place toward Ashville, its outside color of a slightly dark yellow was selected to allow more obvious detection by persons farther away.   Acreos had chosen to sit in the middle of the inn's dining floor, enjoying the swarm of activity that elevated the atmosphere; an all too welcome change from the cold loneliness of an arduous voyage. To make things that much more quaint, alongside a roaring fire, the smell of stewed cabbage and salted meat and the aftertaste of average ale, the incoherent rampage of mixed conversations which ruled the ambiance was overthrown by the majesty of music.   Instruments took cue in their performance. Acreos felt himself smile, heart beating faster, at the sight of the beautiful woman who came to open her mouth and let escape an angelic voice if ever the man had heard one. Her singing was…intense. Taking a slow swig of his ale that suddenly tasted much better, he resided to sitting in comfort, imagining for himself a wife like the woman who had stolen his attention. 
  24. ChaosLord

    The Azatar Assembly (IC)

    (OOC thread here) ----====---- Earlier On, Before The Crash: Above the mountain range below them, traveling just south of Blaurg Mountain on their way to their first stop, Blariville and the distribution centers they have there, an airship flew overhead with great majesty and engineering. This was the Grand Airship Lunova Rai, a large and spectacularly designed airship by the Global Shipping Initiative, a company that makes shipments and cargo deliveries all over the world. On the bridge, the captain was monitoring various signals in hopes of staying ahead of any issue. The crew was on full alert and full watch, as they all knew what cargo they had on board. Presents, thousands of them, maybe even millions. Shipped from Hell's Gate to all around the world, starting in Blairville. Although Hell's Gate had their own docks, it was rather far from the other cities, so it was more difficult to arrange things from there. However, it meant they had more access to raw resources from the areas around it, which had allowed them to produce everything they needed easier there. And their presents were vital for this day. Today, they would spread the gift of joy, hope, and faith across all of Terrenus, across all of Valucre, to countless children and impoverished families. Their presents would help bring them joy, help parents save on money they need to spend on the goods they need, give orphans the feeling of warmth and love and hope for the future. They were carrying the very spirit of the holidays, the spirit of Azatar, with them. "This is the Captain to Navigation Officer Rykora, Captain to NO. How are we doing?" "It looks like we avoided the dangers by heading to Blairville instead of Ignatz or Tia. We managed to avoid the dangerous migrating monsters, and there are reports coming in that....well, would not have been good for us". "Alright. Anything else to keep note of?" "There are some anomolous readings, but nothing major. Checking on them, but it looks like background wave interference and nothing more, maybe from the storm?" The captain looked out, as storm clouds began to form. "The weather didn't call for a storm. You sure its natural?" "All atmospheric pressure looks normal, no signs of magic particle manipulations. It should just be a normal storm, maybe it was formed suddenly due to our proximity to the mountains? Either way, nothing indicates it would pose a threat to us..." "I see. Linking in Defense Team 2. Defense Team, report? What do you observe?" However, the captain was met only with science. "Defense Team?" There was still no sound. "NO, what is going on there?" "I dont know, I will send Kenzie...wait, where is Kenzie? I only sent her for coffee, she should be back by now". "NO?" "What? Oh, sorry. It seems like our runner, Kenzie, is missing. Maybe those goofs decided to take a break without letting anyone know?" The captain kept the communicator on, and turned towards the front windows to see out in front of them. The storm clouds were much closer now, and looked far more ominous. It seemed to be a natural development, but....the captain narrowed her eyes at it. "NO, change the course now! I dont care if it takes us longer, just do it now! And get us lower!" However, there was only static as a reply. The NO was no longer responding. The other crew turned to look at her with dreary and ominous looks, as she tried to get anyone and everyone on the comms. But they were all static... "Crew, it has been a pleasure serving with all of you..." "Captain?" "I will now begin broadcasting a mayday. Please direct the ship in a way for when we crash, the cargo bay and everything inside survives and takes no damage. Focus power on the shielding for those rooms. But lets not beat around the bush. Everyone outside this room is probably dead. But, there is hope that a recovery team can be sent to continue our mission. That Azatar will not be ruined for all those children out there who need it. We took the job to safeguard the spirit of Azatar, and we shall not give into fear and allow our charge to be damaged if we can help it. May Gaia, and the Spirits of Azatar, look over us". "But, Ma'am...are you sure we will crash?" "We will be very lucky if we dont. Now, I shall begin sending out the mayday. They are likely trying to damage or disable our comms completely already, do I must do it now". At that point, she opened up the mayday distress channel. "Mayday! Mayday! We have been hit! Unknown Situation, not mechanical error! Please send help! Priority Cargo is on board! Send help immediately!" And then suddenly, they heard the sound of the door behind them creaking open, and they all drew their weapons... ----====---- A Few Minutes Prior to Present Time: Meanwhile, hidden from the radars and detection abilities of other systems, a medium sized airship on the smaller side flew near the airspace. However, this airship was not owned by some travel agency, or cargo agency, or any government. It was owned instead by a ragtag group of salvagers who found it, repaired it, and installed so much stealth tech into it a joke was made that you could run into it and still not detect it. However, right now, the group was in the personal section of the ship, the shower room. Several shower heads were built into a wall without any dividers, and just a pole to hand a towel on above the water while there was a small section of the wall where soap was stored. It was a very open and spartan style shower, which was often followed by people sitting on stools and finishing the wash by washing each others with soaps and sponges. It was a very old design, probably a military of some kind had originally built it. But right now, the only ones using it appeared as children. Boys and girls, and although a few seemed embarrassed by this, they were dealing with it. It was not unusual to see each other naked or in other embarrassing situations. After all, they were the Scavers. A group of children, or people who had the appearance of children, who had banded together. They lived as they wanted, and often made up their own rules, but they had some that they had established as ironclad rules. One of them was that "No matter what you are, man or elf, boy or girl, or what you believe, all are equal in the Scavers. We will eat togehter, shower together, learn together, sleep together, and fight together. We shall take care of each other, never abandon each other, and accept each other. That is our code, and our truth". And sometimes, it led to comedic moments like what was just happening, as one of the Scavers, Ezen, was just finishing a shower as he felt his behind get whipped by a towel. "Owww! Lena!" He scowled towards the other Scaver, Lena. The Scavers were not that large of a group, and often were actually split into smaller groups across the world. But this place in a way acted as a home, a central base, a safehouse, and a gathering center. This airship was their home, their toy, and their base of operations. Ezen rubbed his behind to sooth the pain, and then grabbed his own towel and made an attack on Lena. The girl managed to jump back and dodge, but Ezen then tackled her to the ground and pinned her. "I win". "Really Ezen? You just had to do that huh? No mercy because I am a girl?" Ezen blushed a little, and she took advantage of that to push him off, get over him, and start tickling him. "Haha! Damn it...haha...I won....this is...hahaha....cheating!" "Well, its your own fault. You know boy or girl does not matter in the Scavers". And then suddenly, a bucket of cold water was dumped over both of them and stopped them both The culprit was Akari, who worked in the same group as Ezen. There was no leader of course, so it would be accurate to call it Ezen's Group or Akari's group, even if neither of them was the leader. "Listen, you two can fight all you want in the dojo. You can even go there right now, cause even if your clothes get stolen you know where to get new ones. But, please do not fight in here where people are trying to get clean". "Akari, you try to act so cool, but you are holding that bucket in front of an interesting part of your body, and your face is kind of red so..." "Attention! Attention all Scavers! We have just picked up a distress signal! Ezen, Sora, Juno, Akari! Gear up and report to the deployment deck! Based on gathered intelligence, this is a high priority issue we need to deal with!" Immediately stopping any form of conversation or conflict, the Scavers quickly used their towels and dried themselves and each other off, and then ran past the changing rooms and into the armory, putting on some emergency underclothes stashed there as well as combat gear. Once they were equpped with generic gear as well as their specialized gear, they immediately ran to the deployment deck. "Attention you four! According to the intercepted distress signal, and recovered data we have from our source in Hell's Gate, an airship crashed here. An airship that was carrying large amounts of presents collected for charity to orphans and poor families for Azatar! We may be scavangers, rogues, outliers of society. But we are those who have maintained our Childhood Spark, and we understand more then anyone who has grown up the impact of Azatar and the joy, hope, and faith it can bring! Others will be arriving soon, but we cannot just sit idly by when we are so close! Ezen, you and your group will go to the site and recover the cargo, mark it for us to be picked up, and we will load it for delivery. We dont know if we have enough cargo space for it all, but without any other airships in the area, we are the only hope these presents have on making it on time! We cannot locate the exact position of the ship, so its up to you all to find it!" Wearing heavy coats, combat boots, cargo shorts, metal helmets with built in goggles and tech, and other stuff that looks very military style but sized for them, the group picked up their weapons and looked out in front of them. "Understood! Now, for the vote! I vote yes for the mission! Sora, Juno, Akari, your votes?" "I vote yes! We have to save them!" "I vote yes! There is no debate!" "I vote yes! Azatar is too important to the hearts of people!" "Alright, our group is a go! Switching to codenames! And....deploying!" Suddenly, the heavy door in the deployment room opened, and the four of them jumped out into the cold. It seemed to have become a shilly, blizzard snowstorm out there, and the ship was somewhere in the center of these mountains and valleys, along with them presents meant for the Azatar Holidays. They would go out and find those presents, recover them, and fight off anything that would get in their way. ----====---- Meanwhile, Present Time: While the Scavers deployed overhead, having jumped out of an airship and into a blizzard, there were also those on the ground who suddenly got the signal. Kobayashi took down the hood of his black coat, as well as the second hood of his vest. But he was not alone, as another walked up behind him, sharing his white hair and red eyes while not being relatives. Noah looked out into the distance. "What....what is Azatar?" Kobayashi gripped his fists. The two had only met each other again recently while looking for others to travel with on foot, undetected, to another city, but they were sort of starting to talk to each other given similarities and some previous events. "Its a time of year where people are given presents, and celerbate hope, faith, and joy. We...we cant let them fall. We have to help". "So its like Chris....nevermind. But, should we really?" "Noah, we have to. Neither of us seem to have people to celebrate with, but do you want to let others feel the same pain we have?" Hearing those words, a fire was lit in Noah's eyes as he remembered all the abuse he had felt. And then in his mind, he put it together that helping with this would prevent others from being abused and neglected like him, and instead recieving love and care and joy.... "...alright, lets do this. We cant let that happen". The result was obvious. (Well that was super long, but also super necessary. Also had to use the chance to explore more of the Scaver group, so people understood what they stood for and such)
  25. Cinder

    Redeye Ruckus [Quest B]

    Redeye Ruckus The Free City of Izral was a field of poppies. Scarlet blooms reaching desperately for the sky, to drink in the light that nurtures. But, rise too tall, and the harvestman’s scythe would swipe off your head. Torek Redeye had rose high in the past month. Had. The cards favored him, promised him sweet, sweet dreams in the form of pills, a nice place to sleep, and perhaps a vacation to one of the villages. Then the cards bent him over and fucked him. Such was life. The difference, was, this time, he had bit off too much. Too many favors burned, too many loans taken. Redeye had gotten this far from pushing his luck, but push it any more and the reputation he had won for himself would break, dragging him screaming into the abyss. So just as always, he took it upon himself to find honest work. Honest casing, honest deals, honest blackmails, honest frauds and an honest group of rebels descending upon the Daius’ shipment only to find the weapons and supplies cleaned out. An honest, anonymous letter to one of the 12 Kings. An honest fee that would wipe off his debts. With the side deals he had made, Redeye had already set up some understandings with his creditors. The harvestman’s scythe passed over him, and he found himself alive and smelling like roses and sex. He was standing in front of a window, the revelry of the nightclub rumbling below, the gentle snore of an escort in his suite. His coarse hand pressed on the glass pane as he downed some more beer. There, in the jungle of buildings, he hid his stash. The rebellion would pay him handsomely for the weapons. He had his big break after the worst week in his life. “Mmh, enjoying the view?” his partner said. Turning from the window, Redeye grinned and wasn’t sure which view he liked better. “Oh, yes, very.” What could possibly go wrong now? He hummed happily to himself as he headed back to bed, ignorant of the metaphorical gaze of the Daius, and the literal gaze of a Daius agent, reading his name on a piece of paper, somewhere far away from the brothel. @Keen @-Lilium- @Rin
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