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Found 625 results

  1. "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.....
  2. Jai Nifarious

    You Had Friends Once...

    Jai "Kazehikari" Nifarious There's always a problem you can't fix. No matter if I have world breaking powers or if I am living amongst mortals; I am always the last one standing. I've been torn apart, reassembled, possessed, hated, exiled, punished, tortured, betrayed, and still I stand here thinking about what little time I've spent filling my sorrows with good memories from kind faces. Times have changed, the people are not my people, the land is not welcoming, and I feel....I feel so out of place. "Immortality...immortality..." He chants to himself, dissecting a hymn he'd once heard. Jai keeps himself at a distance from socializing with the "unblessed". There's an alienation between him and mortals now, a rift that he's formed after finding out the truth of their origins. The many secrets of violence and war ravaged his attitude towards them, it made him less human each interaction. The burden of knowledge has carved up what tiny hope he's had in humanity. The clothes he wears are actively a contradiction and yet a mocking of their fashion. It is not of this world, but it's what is considered "acceptable". His eyes are like solid white spheres, he's been passed off as blind to keep others from acting on their evil instincts and it's garnered the kindness of many. It's deceptive, but it's the only way he's gone on this far without losing it. "Excuse me, sir, you dropped this." One man says to him handing Jai an leather like wallet with several compartments. <-"Ngh"-> Jai thinks to himself. "Hey buddy, your shoe is untied." Another kind person says while placing a hand on Jai's chest to stop his stride. <-"Tch"-> "Mister you're really tall." a young girl says peeking up at him as he uses the collar of his jacket to hide his embarrassment behind. <-"Stop..."-> "Hey handsome." A slim woman runs a hand across his back. <-"She's got a reputation on her. She flaunts it ferociously. It's that of a succubus."-> "Well, you smell like everywhere....and yet nowhere. If you strike out on finding what you're looking for, ol' Morrigan will keep you company." She says blowing a kiss to his back, making sure he hears her moan. <-"Not a chance....not tonight."-> The moan sinks into his mind. The influence is too weak for his mettle. He proceeds strongly through the streets. Hours of wandering and thinking about as many people as he could remember. Jai pays respects to their memory, for he knew not where the graves lie. There is a swelling kindness that's becoming more dominant in his facial expression. Like he was trying to restore something lost. Something groundbreaking. <<-"mmmmwhaaa"->> Then it happens. <-"What? Green hair, small wings, soft fair skin, luxurious lips, plump frame..the succubus's curse...no...her invitation."-> <<-"Ol Morrigan..."->> <-"An accent...a place of pleasure...mmmm get out of my head!"-> Jai places both palms against the sides of his face, fighting the temptation. This pleasure he seeks is not of the flesh, yet this succubus has forced it's way through to redirect him. His hands fall from his face and he comes to a complete stop peering into the street ahead of him. <-"......Should I go?"-> l<-"As long as you bring me with you."->l <-"Deal."-> Jai's hands slip into his pockets and he spins around, heading back the way he'd came...a grin on his face.
  3. Dolor Aeternum

    [Event] Darkness and Havoc - Illyria Arrives

    Illyrian Scientific Division Event Objectives: 1. Evacuate the citizens of Antigua or save yourself. 2. Tend to the wounded, if so inclined. 3. Fight off the dark creatures that will emerge from the random pockets scattered around Ceyana. The tougher creatures may drop sweet sweet loot. (List of creatures to come) Bonus: Attempt to find and confront Havoc and Darkness to stop prevent further loss by engaging them. This will not stop the success of this catastrophic event but it could modify how or make things worse. They are hidden deep within the rainforest. Good luck! Name: Heron Leneri/ Luz Yllende Affiliation: Illyrian Scientists Location: Illyrian Scientific Division Objective: Discovering the beginning of the event Heron’s day had already gotten off to a rough start, with the Scientific Council sending one of their representatives to tell him to shut down his experiment and relinquish all of his findings to Luz the next morning. Years of trying to implement a faster way to exchange goods with other partners outside of the plane that Illyria existed in was now seen as a waste of time to lazy fools who were too comfortable in their self-made thrones to realize that his home could still be better than it was…still do so much more. They have been blessed for so long with an abundance of everything they needed to survive, but did they not remember the dark centuries that preceded this? Were they so present-minded that they could not see that troubles would still lie ahead? It wouldn’t do his feeble heart any good to dwell on it now so as he began to put away his items and have his assistants pack up all of his data, all he could do was let out a sigh before he heard a high pitched noise from across the lab. “Sir, we are picking up some odd readings outside of the spire. The readings fall in line with what we get when we activate several of our pathway coils together.” A younger assistant chimed in. “That set us back weeks on our research……Oh well doesn’t matter now. Let the scientific council worry about that mess. We need to start thinking about finding another scientist to work with.” The younger assistant realized that perhaps it was too soon to mention that but ambition was always key when trying to escalate up through the science divisions. “No offense sir” Heron shook his head while looking at the thin monitor hovering in front of them that was connected wirelessly to several others that hovered above them. Suddenly a flurry of sounds similar to the one that started this interaction were heard and Heron immediately jumped into action. “Start recording all of this data in real time. You, give me my tether so I can communicate with Luz.” Heron furrowed his brows and he could almost feel his synapses firing quickly as he wondered what could be causing all of these dimensional spurts. Had someone conducted some sketchy research and miscalculated? Those fledglings like the ones he hired sometimes loved to act brashly and without proper respect for the scientific methods. Shaking his head given that he figured no one was intelligent or foolish enough to even attempt to coordinate the quantity of anomalies that he was currently viewing, he looked around for the assistant he had sent to get his tether. “Where is my tether?!” An assistant returned empty-handed, stuttering for fear of negative reprisal. “U..uh…uh I can’t f-f-f-find it. I looked in all of your usual spots sir” Huffing and clearly disturbed by what he considered the inadequacy of one of his employees, he was about to begin a slew of lashing verbal assaults at everyone around him before he remembered his feeble heart again and calmed himself down. “Ok just run over and find a fellow and let them know I need you to use their tether to contact Luz. Let her know that what I believed would happen has finally happened and she needs to let the council…hell let the Light of Illyria know we need to get everyone to tackle this problem now!” The kingdom of Illyria was a compact area if you take into account the near million inhabitants that somehow managed to cram themselves into compartments lest they opt to cohabitate within a pocket zone. The area that surrounded Illyria was treacherous and unforgiving, however, housing all manner of creatures created by the enemies of the past and the hubris of those who were not respectful of their king. Heron’s only concern, however, was that he could continue his research and this odd event while obviously a portent of bad things to come could help his cause into ears that were much more powerful than the old fools within the council. The young assistant frantically searched for Luz, asking with short breath about her whereabouts for quite some time until someone finally managed to give her some decent intel. Luz had been rumored to be scolding someone regarding their recent miscalculations of the data from their agricultural experiments attempting to infuse them with enchantments for use in a pinch. The lasting effects were far too lopsided to be accurate and such a thing was a stain on this department’s name she needed to wash clean. The young assistant arrived in the vicinity and gained her bearings by listening to the yelling in the distance. “We do not do mediocre work here you simpleton. Were you using the right equipment? Did you employ the best enchanters or pick some off of some slum somewhere?! I should suspend you for your stupidity…you know what…..” “Ms. Luz…um…uh….” A pair of fierce grey eyes shot in the young assistant’s direction, silver tresses contrasting sunkissed flesh well. Luz was a tall imposing figure that clearly maintained herself well as rumor had it she had an intense workout regimen that rivalled their ranger division. Dressed with form fitting fabric that held some sort of ethereal sheen to it and several insignias that denoted her place within the scientific division, she was pleasing to the eye but her reputation for being unabashedly blunt and controlling did her no favors with the Illyrian men. “Out with it already!” “Heron sent me to tell you that there are some dimensional anomalies occurring outside the kingdom and that he believes it is serious enough to warrant everyone’s attention” “Of course he does. How convenient that it happens to be on the eve of the end of his pipedream” “But ma’am….he seems serious. He even mentioned that king Raylon should know about it. I don’t think he would do that just to save our project” Luz’s delicate hands stroked her own chin before she shot a glare at the scientist she was just speaking to suggesting she had yet to finish with him but the assault was delayed for now. “Fine, I will round up whoever I can. If it turns out he is wrong then I will make sure they laugh him out of the department one last time.” The young assistant just nodded and slinked away to rest somewhere from having run so much. Heron began analyzing the data from the initial dimensional anomalies and noticed a familiar signature within the waves that were being emitted. Years ago when he was just starting his research, he had picked up on these readings only to find out the portals that were created had been sanctioned by king Raylon himself as he had managed to broker a deal with some foreign queen for some much needed supplies when he had feverishly inquired about it. He’d learn much later about the scandal it had caused given that foreign queen was some sort of vampyre named Irene Gabriela DuGrace. He had believed that no further contact was going to be established after they became self-sustaining. That couldn’t have possibly changed. Whipping his head to the other side, he had almost forgotten that Luz and those she convinced to come were urging him to deliver some sort of explanation about why he had forced Luz to bring them here. So it began… “My fellow co-workers. I believe that something or someone is creating several compact tears into another realm. Most of my initial data seems to point to the realm of that vampyre queen….” Several people gasped in horror and others huffed in disgust while a select few just arched a brow before Heron continued. “I suggest we come together to figure out more about these tears and gain control over these areas before it is too late. We never knew much about what resided within that realm before and were never given the opportunity to see for ourselves but I fear Illyria is in danger once again.” Some shouted “What if your readings are wrong”. Others kept it short by just yelling “Lies” or “Fool” before storming off. The few that remained were far too few in number to have ever prevented what began to occur hours after. Flickers of Ceyana’s landscape would appear and disappear violently, giving way to humid air and vegetation. All manner of flora and fauna would also appear, with some unfortunate beasts getting quartered or imploding once they arrived. Glimpses of a populated market were reported on the outskirts of the Illyrian spire, with horrific screams contributing to a cacophony of pain and strife that pounded into the peace that had once been. Bodies of those who were out on data collection runs or hunting for specimens decorated the rough lands outside in a macabre but potent display that this event was on a scale that exceeded man alone. What was left of their bodies were seared along their extremities from being torn viciously by an unknown energy into what they would find was Orisia. The beginnings of the rapture of Illyria were some of the most chaotic times since the dark centuries preceding the Light’s arrival. The litany of portals that were created were slowly beginning to coalesce as both realms fought for dominance against the whims of two deities. It would seem inevitable change was coming and neither Illyria nor Orisia would ever be the same. Antigua Map and City Key: Bestiary Thread:
  4. The sensation of falling in one’s sleep. It’s always an interesting sensation. The darkness and comfort of rest suddenly cut short by the sharp skip of a heartbeat followed by that fleeting moment of free falling through the air. There’s always a hint of fear or shock that cuts through the dulled senses and pierces the brain’s amygdala. That all but brief moment that this was it and you had died. Death however would of been a mercy for Miss Blonde, because when that sensation was over she had to face her new reality. One where she wouldn’t awake to the familiar feeling of her bed and warm body lying next to her. There would only be the cold hard ground. Dark reflective lenses of a gas mask lay blank and expressionless, it’s hard metallic casing showing no signs of movement simply lay there resting atop a head of long blonde hair. A still silence that filled the air and soon was swiftly ended by a blur of movement and a mechanical cocking mechanism. Sitting up with speed and intensity, Miss Blonde’s gas mask came to life with red flashing LED lights that opened completely to almost express her shock. In her hand was the smooth and engraved .44 caliber pistol that began to scan the room. Something had knocked her out at the height of the party. Something that would have to be powerful to put her under the table. Yet all she could see were the black suit and tie adorned and unconscious bodies of her employees. Her closest lieutenants who she had gathered here for a reason should could not quite remember. Which was odd, because normally the woman had the mind of a steel box. In fact her mind was even protected by the enchantment placed on her mask. So with a few wobbly shakes, the small Crime Lord stood on her feet and kept her pistol firmly in her grasp. From the looks of things they were all still in the cabana club, the small and out of the way bar she owned on Relovian. Which was good, perhaps they all just had too much to drink. Taking her free hand she rubbed her sore and throbbing head and sighed. ”Haven’t has a headache like this since college.” Taking a few steps towards the center of the bar, she looked around for her personal assistant. Finding his slightly pale red hair, the man was doubled over a bench with his drink still held loosely in his hand. ”Orange, wake your ass up.” With a slight kick to his side the man sputtered and soon fell over onto his back and groaned. His face was also obscured by a mask similar to Blonde’s but even through the mask’s robotic vocalizes one could hear the misery of what might be identified as a hangover. ”Wake up the others then call me a speeder home. Looks like we went all night.” Blonde said with some kindness towards the man but still made sure to convey that this was an order. ”Sure thing, boss. Can we get some MandoBurger on the way back? Cause I could use it.” Orange asked as he began to pick himself up from the bench. ”Sure, just call the speeder.“ Placing her pistol back into its holster the woman would proceed to walk towards the front door. Daylight shined through the shutters and slightly illuminated the tropical and playful decor of the bar. About fifteen of her top men were here for what had seemed to be a party in her honor. Maybe they had just pulled off some kind of heist? No, she’d of remembered that. Did they make a big weapon or drugs sale? Maybe a successful auction? Again she’d of known about that. Pacing her way towards the door, Blonde needed some fresh air. ”Boss... there’s a problem. Comms are down. In fact I’m not seeing any signal, anywhere.” Orange said in a worried tone while hunched over a screen. ”Just run a diagnostics check on the system I’m sure it’s just the-“ Blonde paused in shock as she stepped out the door. It all hit her at once. The strange architecture, the smell of the air, and especially the completely alien species that could be seen walking around the streets. Species that her scanners couldn’t even identify, which was impossible. ”It’s probably the what, Boss?” Orange asked as he looked up from the screen towards Blonde. All of it was overwhelming. The information was flooding in faster than her brain could process it all. She took a few steps forward to turn around and look at her bar. It was all roughly the same but rather than being in its normal spot against the coast on the beach it was tucked away in the slums and back alleyways of some sort of sprawling alien metropolis. A few people on the street even approached her. Species that she had no idea what they were or what they wanted. Her hand reached into her jacket to grasp at her pistol while still concealed in her coat. ”You open? Me bredren and me just got off the night shift. Could use a drink.” What looked to be a troll with fiery red hair looked down at the girl and by his side he was flanked by a small gnome and a half orc. ”We’ve never seen your bar before. You guys just open up?” The half orc asked kindly. Blonde could understand them, which was odd. They spoke basic. So slowly releasing the pistol grip, she smiled beneath her mask and the lights on her masked turned to their standard yellow. ”By all means. Come inside, have a drink.” She said with some mild intent in her robotic laced voice. To the more magical adept of Last Chance a powerful and cosmic based magic would light up Blonde’s bar in the invisible residue of powerful magic that could be felt for miles. The city was still recovering from a large attack and there was sure to be people of note in the city. For now though, Blonde would just lead the three men inside.
  5. Venus Sprite

    A Fellowship in Frost

    “This party had better be worth it,” Torie huffed, a wry smile on her face as she leaned into her harness. “My feet are aching. My back is aching. I’m hungry.” Though she didn’t say it out loud, she really hoped Reitu could look at her feet and that Azul would find something delicious for dinner. But she didn’t want to put pressure on them. Chief Kasat was doing enough of that already. Eager to get to the wedding, he had pushed the herds and their keepers to a brisk pace the last couple of days, and Torie was having a hard time keeping up. “Come on, Torie,” called Simot, a Shinoki boy of nine, who overtook her with speed on a sled pulled by at least twenty Shinoyed dogs – large, fluffy and eager things with all-white fur and more guts than brains. Just looking at them made Torie’s mouth water. “You’re going to come last again!” “I am… pulling… the most,” she said, huffing but doing her best to pick up the pace. “And I’m pulling the most by myself!” Indeed, her sled was easily the largest in the tribe – that’s what you get for being a giant tiger among an army of minute tribespeople, dogs and reindeer. But she knew she shouldn’t complain. The exercise would do her well, and the company was excellent. She’d come to love this tribe almost as much as her own. “Come on, fatty!” Simot called. Almost as much. Torie’s tongue lolled out of her mouth and her breath huffed like a steam engine’s chute into the cold and frosty air. But Torie wasn’t cold. She could barely keep cool enough, even with the hard packed snow beneath her feet. She tried to get a rhythm going that didn’t impede too much on her expansive body, but one can only work with 1500 pounds in so many ways. She’d gotten far too fat, she knew it, and it made even simple things difficult. So it was with some relief that Chief Kasat raised his hand and called out “Set camp,” and all the other sleds gathered in around him. Torie pulled the sled in behind Simot’s before flopping onto her expansive belly, frosty clouds still erupting from her gaping mouth. “Can someone… please… unharness me from this ball and chain?” she panted, noting with a grimace the throbbing in her ankles. She closed her eyes. “It’s good for you, Torie. It won’t be long now and you can eat your weight in whale.” A toothy smile spread across her stripy feline face as she imagined the banquet that awaited them. Whale would be on the menu, sure. But also seal, salmon, walrus… maybe even some shark. If she was really lucky there might even be squid. She could never get enough squid. These days on the sled had hardened her muscles but had done nothing to reduce the layer of fat that covered her ribs and legs and neck and face and… well, everything. She realised what a sight she must look, a stripy blob sprawled on the snow. But right now she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Anyone…?”
  6. In a world filled with microorganisms of all types, there was always a struggle to become dominate. At first it was just regular microbs destroying microbs. However the presence and fleeing of an extraterrestrial microb known as Z-35 around 2000 years ago visited and used the world as its little 'experiment' granting them the level of sentience that it was gifted Decades went by after it fled as fights and battles grew in numbers throughtout the various microbs. Within 1657 years only 6 remained and by the year 1978 only three were left The Corilians being the most dominant as they have the most organized coral reef cities and had begun gaining atomic power The RexRexo red Algae was second being a raypunk society yet having spots in their territory where technology was less developed Then there were also the Manitrix who instead of technology uses magic to defend against the war. Alas it was pointless as in 1996 they were destroyed by a sudden barrage of atomic weapons Then there were two As the Rexrexo algae had begun their own atomic weapons, at this time some had begun building exo-skeletons out of steel and copper, often requesting that several algae bond together for it to operate. However our story starts in a less developed colony of algae, it didnt really have a name none but the capital has a name called Agirea yet the colony was sorly known as a lesser state and thus though it not be its name it was known as lesser state 5# one of the newer colonies, it was to be a buffer to pervent the coral hordes from invading the land by blocking one of several passage ways, if this plan worked then it'll give them time to build up an army sufficient enough to stop the hordes Thats when it happened, all that was heard was a terrifying screeching sound followed by the sound of rushing water, as if the water was flowing out to somewhere. The whole colony was ripped from its attachments and got sucked up by a disk shaped portal that proceeded to suck up all of the algae in the colony, closing suddenly seconds later leaving a gap where the colony used to be...... -[somewhere in Eastern Oo'xora near a stream]- The colony was dropped into the slow going stream where it eventually setteled on the ground, the shock of this would cause panic as they have been dropped in unknown and unreached territory....
  7. Fennis Ursai

    A Silver Ticket Gamble

    For a long while, it had seemed as thought Vashka would not see some field action for a good long while. Being called on for a job like this was troubling though, being as it was recruitment type work which was becoming more and more a staple of the company dealings of of late. Either way, he was happy to be on the job. The heavily armored goblin found a nice place amidst the 'Pavilion' area of town to watch the crowds of people come and go. His heavy plate armor was luckily cooled on the inside, if it wasn't for the inside lining, he would never wear this suit in weather that was as hot as it was. It seemed very strange for the set up of this job to involve a non-disclosed location, making the possible mercs have to seek him out, though The End Game was a bit of a secretive fellow on occasion. Either way, he chalked it up as commitment and dedication to the job ahead. From his seat at a local cafe, Vashka had tipped his helm back and was enjoying an early morning of spiked coffee, dark roast with a nice spike of some dark spiced rum. The day so far wasn't a bad day, it was his second day in blairville. Overall the city was nice but not his kind of town. A few sips from his coffee and it was becoming a good start of the day. While not drinking from his mug, Vashka would simply toss his helm back over his face and keep a place near the road so those looking for him could easily see him..though it wasn't that hard to notice him being his armor was bulky and a light tint of blue, almost bearing a knightly presence for such a short figure. Then there came the situation of having to use a false name..why? Why now of all times to use a false name, it wasn't like anyone was coming after them, at least best he knew anyways. Though this job held a few oddities to it, he wouldn't complain much seeing as how it wasn't really his place to question The End Game's methods. Instead he simply sat back, took a good view of the place, and let himself relax. Anything to keep him away from the tavern he called home right now, that place was a bit dangerous for the time being.
  8. Planet Waves

    Every Reason Leading You Through Here

    The looming facility, with coiled spires like the pillars of a cathedral, with a steeple of offices and the shattered glass entryway into the building. Smoke still billowed from the entrance, like the baleful, waiting breath of a dragon looming within. What could possibly drive a man to enter this, where many have been crushed and driven out? A job was a job, perhaps. There was no visible evidence from this place, at the base of the great staircase leading up to this institute, of the assailant's movements. The night didn't make things any better, too. The lamplight, and the spotlights posited by the police force that formed the perimeter cast grand shadows over the building. The frightening visage of this palace of science didn't wane with inspection, as the knowledge of the warrior within marked each inch of its exterior with the interior damage leaking out. Approaching our hero is the police lieutenant, who supplies him with a map of the building, and info on the tactics Yago's employed so far against their forces. Remote control explosives, a battle rifle that uses conventional ammunition, and magic that asks a question that current protocol can't answer. "I'll level with you. Whatever goes on in there, we can't send anymore in, we can just keep him from coming out, got it? No shame in turning back if things get hairy, but don't expect us to be the ones to get you out. I dunno whatever reason's leading you through here, but..." He sighs, clapping them on the back. "...I'll just have faith that your reasons are good, and you're not going in here without a clue." @Aleksei
  9. Aleksei

    Here with Me

    Off in the distance, she heard the inkling of laughter; it made her smile, relieving the ache in her chest by a little. The bit of light to the darkness was reduced by the sounds of lapping waves delicately dancing along tarnished shores. Nighttime covered most of the aches and pains of the city, giving the eyes and hearts some reprieve that can't be found during the daylight. Right now the moon lazily hangs amongst bright stars; there isn't a single cloud to be seen, making the hour a refreshing one in comparison to the last few. Again, the laughter broke through the sounds of water. The struggle to sit down on her own left her a bit breathless, but the prize of serenity was worth the price of pain. Her body - much like Last Chance - was healing. Ribs were broken, her right arm was lost, a nasty bruise painted the entirety of her delicate throat - really, she looked a damned mess. Injuries and a myriad of cuts covered her small form in an abusive manner, showing a story of a battle that was won but not without sacrifices. Has it been a week? Less than so? Shanti wasn't precisely sure since a majority of that she had been battling against her body to heal faster. Between moments of consciousness, she had seen blurred faces with prominent voices, their words lost to her but their concern not. People entered and left the small room she had been kept in, some would say something to her, others would hold her only hand, the rest would be silent, but she could feel their presence. It was unfortunate that she had been so weak, for she would have liked to speak to these unfamiliar faces, thank them for their bravery. When she had finally woken up she was alone; that was two days ago. There was no more fighting, and without a clear purpose, she felt a bit lost. She wasn't trained to do much and being a foreigner she felt incredibly out of place - by no fault of anyone! When they weren't busy, many people took the time to speak with her, and half the time they'd give her something small to do. Being busy kept her mind off her losses, it made her feel more grounded, no longer lost out in this weird orbit. Such small pleasures she did not take for granted as she was just as surprised as everyone that she was still alive. Dredge had tried his hardest to kill her, but he was thwarted by grander forces he hadn't anticipated. He was so close, she thought to herself, flexing her bruised fingers in wonder. In a single moment, she had lost her arm and then almost her life, yet she hadn't been afraid when she and death shared a moment. Should one be frightened by that? It was a thought that worried her in moments of silence such as this. Was she indeed that ready to die for others, to set aside her life for something more significant? Was she allowed to be so .. so proud? A soft breeze sifted through the long strands of tousled hair; the silky strands tickled her cheeks; the sensation woke the elf out of her deep meditation. If given a chance, if she had to return to those moments of near death, she would do it over and over again. Absolutely. Pulling her legs to her chest, she wrapped her single arm around them and rested her cheek atop her knees. It was dark, life was still happening around her, and it was peaceful. Setting: Last Chance - 1 week after this event.
  10. Djinn&Juice

    The Hither And Yawn

    "Be you monster or man, beast or beauty, hero or villain; I am Lady Everest, and you are welcome to The Hither and Yawn. A place to soak in revitalizing hot springs, massages that nurture your very soul. We open our doors to you Weland, and even you beyond. The South District is where we have brought a much needed respit from war and exhaustion alike for nothing more than keeping all weapons and magic sheathed and contained. We are of parlay, and welcome all sides under the banner of Gaia. She who makes this possible. She tests you everyday, bestows upon you obstacles and dangers; equipping us with courage, she nurtures and trains us; Now its time for her to heal you, through us. you deserve it my children" This was the message that reached every soul it could. This message traveling through both trees and birds. The words not repeating after this strange phenomenon and letting The Hither and Yawn be known far and wide. It was at first glance a rather simple, and almost disappointing door in the dirt, but upon moving toward it's entrance; the vines ensnaring this hovel and spelling the name clear as day Within the walls, it immediately descended at a gentle decline. Stairs of woven tree bark aiding in their short trip down, music being heard in the distance...giggles? Chatting?...laughing. The stairs opening up into a large room that resembled the inside of a hollowed out redwood, and such comparison still did no justice to the size and height of this room. Canopies of nets and woven bridges overhead with waterfalla and spouts falling from around the bark walls of this bathhouse in a lazy upward spiral. Dryads seen serving customers with massages whilst suspended on a hammock, others soaking in smaller pools carved put into the walls themselves, and an atmosphere the likes of which were unheard of. Music flowed from this room, beautiful hang drums rhythmic and adding a sense of depth that only a place so pure could possess. Three dryads above The Blue Eye the source of this music. Their eyes blindfolded with woven vine, and seemed to project their music through their very forms. The dryad in the center of the trio a much larger dryad with a dress seemed to be from vibrant flowers that were still alive and thriving upon her form. Her hair possessing volume and braids amidst thick shoulder length mane. The floor ahead of them, being the center piece as dozens of dryads combing their hair, frolicking, and awaiting customers all surround the new customers and encouraging them into the largest hot spring in The Bathhouse The Blue Eye The dryads stunning, and possessing a natural beauty that sought to serve guests. Their lithe and supple hands pulling them into the hot spring and the effects were immediate. It was as though the water felt alive and it's connection drank in their stress and recriprocated nearly narcot relaxation. They all felt They were nothing but absolute. This blue eye perceives all things conjoined. The past, the future, and the present. Everything flows, and all is connected. This eye is not merely seeing reality...it is touching the truth. There is nothing to fear. Not here Never here @Zashiii @Aleksei @Grubbistch @PurplePanda
  11. There was an unrivaled stillness in the air. The city seemed to hold its breath as the morning mist veiled the mountain. The wind billowed and swirled gently, quietly—as if in reverence for the dead. Twenty-two individuals were garbed in white silk. They stood outside the Great Hall at the Pavilion of Prayers in somber silence. Every move, every act was well practiced. They stood equidistant in pairs of two, primly holding the long piece of paper that bore the name of their loved one. There was no crying. There were no tears to be shed. Mourning had passed—now it was on towards duty. Duty to lay the dead to rest. They were organized by their rank. Nobles and Knights at the head. Merchants and Scholars. The civilians were last. It felt wrong for Sabine to grip the delicate piece of paper that she did. In Vaadenian her lover’s name was scrawled with a practiced hand in beautiful black ink. It felt wrong because Sabine knew what she had seen. Though her lover was but ash, she knew that somewhere, somehow Efrideet was alive and enslaved. The skies were grey as clouds lazily stretched across them, though the sun tried to peek out from time to time. They waited in patient silence for the rest of the ceremony to finish its completion. Somehow this day could not end soon enough. The Great Hall had already filled with those who had come, but ample space had been made for the ceremony and funerals. “Ja’kaarn se Laa’zera!” Enter for the Queen! A herald called for them. Loud, precise and commanding—and so they would proceed with their practiced gait.
  12. Yulhalla Serphus was a city that sat outside the bigger city of Val Roux. However, after the battle of the citizens of Roux and Yuhalla was over, many treasures remained. Serah, a young elf with long braided black teal hair and yellow orange heterchroma eyes wanted to get. She was dressed in a long sleeved button up and slacks that showed off her very curvy body. But she was an explorer first, as she was the apprentice of H.H Dylan himself. Serah had taken three airships to get to the abandoned city. It was a long flight of frustration and grief. As she almost missed her third flight here, she lost her luggage and had to file papers to recover it. But she was here, in Yuhalla Serphus and she wasn't going to just leave. She would document and find was abandoned and left behind. Walking down the old and faded cobblestone streets, Serah noticed the rotting and faded buildings. Left to decay and withered because no one wanted to rebuild time and funds to a city no one wantrd to live in. Serah was here to show people, it would be nice to rebuild and live here again. That was her goal. And Serah almost always obtained her goals unless it was impossible by every mean possible. She stood there a moment as she looked around the empty city. If a few building onstructors came in and rebuilt some of the dilapated buildings there could be housing. But Athentha didn't have many construction crews, they were either in Lyonesse or the human world. Serah tilted her head as she rubbed her temples. It seemed the rebuilding would need a lot of steel and wood the land didn't possess. Only because it was a floating island in the sky. The elf jotted down this on her notepad making her way down the road. She was excited to find the abandoned treasures that the citizens disguarded and threw away as they left the city. Serah wrote down more things that needed inprovement like power lines, water and food increases. This wasn't going to be an easy thing. But right now the elf focused on the ites left behind, items made by the Gods themselves. Swords, shields, rings you name it, were abanadoned here.
  13. Aleksei

    Fire and the Flood

    House Mythal " You think you will have any of your own?" "What, wine? You know I don't have the stomach for it." Austere looked at his brother unamused. You never felt in one place with Milorian, as if he was the sole individual making the world revolve and if he stopped, so would it. A strange round-aboutness, it could drive a man crazy just to get a straight answer out of the elf. "Milo ..." "Don't look so sour, Austere. I was only joking." Milo looked down at the small body resting peacefully in his lap. He would have forgotten about the child, so light he felt and so quiet he has been the last few hours. Easton was by far the most well-behaved child out of the rest, and often enough Milorian has admitted (to himself only) to spoiling the boy with the attention he does not need. It wasn't out of pity, the elf told himself for the thousandth time, it was out of love and pride and joy - especially joy. The child was a weakness of his, though if asked he would push the subject aside and pursue another route of thinking. He hated being put on the spot about emotional attachments. Idly, he sifted his fingers through the child's white hair (a homage to his Mythal name) and allowed himself a brief smile. Children would be a wish come true, yes. Brooding eyes looked out the window of his humble quarters; there was so much to do that wishes and dreams have to be set aside. "Maybe someday, though Ronan and Terra will have already populated our ranks enough by then I won't have to worry about trying." "So I've heard! At this point, it's unnatural to see Terra not heavy with child!" Austere's laugh made his brother chuckle in reply, the action and sound oddities to the both of them. It felt wonderful just to speak, to laugh and think about the future. Milo lost himself in thought, still stroking Easton's hair, occasionally fiddling with the pointedness of the child's ear. Austere watched his brother, admiring the man that fit perfectly in their father's chair while he entertained himself with the sleeping child. The Dred Wolves have fought through the lines of partition, spilled their blood for the people of their home, died in the name of deserved justice. They all did their part of maintaining their house and name, most of the work done by Milorian. Looking upon his brother, he did not envy his position as head of the house. "Are you prepared for tonight?" If at all possible, Milo's frown deepened as he sighed, apparently forgetting that tonight was rife with celebration. Head of the house, sure, but he had no power over his mother and sisters; they had him wrapped around their finger, and he didn't have the strength to fight them. He was gotten. "No," he cradled Easton in his arms, needing something to keep him anchored. People will be filling their home this evening, and he wasn't prepared to face any of them just yet. "You could have - no, no you couldn't have." Austere was older than Milo. Thus he's had years of practice to stay stalwart against their mother's insistence. The memory of his brother folding under their mother's suggestions, her backing being the wives of the family, all the while their father stood back in false ignorance, made him smirk. There was entirely no surviving the attack; they laid siege to Milo's defenses, already weak and poor. "Tonight then?" "Do you have to ask?" Easton briefly woke up as he was exchanged between hands. Austere was a gentle man whose attachment to his only child is needy and often overbearing. Though such actions could be considered the norm, for the Mythal's are known for their selfishness towards their family and its growth. Their wounds were also still very fresh, the terrible loss of their brother and Austere’s wife and child still hung on the Mythal’s sharp shoulders; Austere was allowed his possessiveness. Some hours later he was trying to find his footing, thwarted continuously by grabbing hands that spin him in a reel he’s relatively unfamiliar with. His mother had unceremoniously pushed him into the dancing circle, and he was immediately assaulted by a young woman with vibrant flowers woven into her hair and a smile that sparkled. He did not return her smile, quickly he spun out, but he was fresh pray to the eager and was once again victim to the celebratory dance. Somewhere on the edges of his hazy mind, he heard his siblings snickering, his mother joyfully clapping her hands to the tune, and his sisters-in-law cackling at the scene of poor Milo dancing awkwardly. “All of you are banished!” Milorian yelled once he escaped; long fingers worked to adjust the elaborate robes he wore. His hair had been braided, a red ribbon threaded through it, but now all that hard work demolished. “That didn’t work the first time, what makes you think it will now?” Ronan yelled over the music, his right hand resting comfortably on the lower back of his pregnant wife. His blue eyes were dancing, and his stupid smile was shaking from how extensive it was spread against his equally foolish face. Milo glared at the laughing group, his blue hues turning into daggers aimed directly at all their heads. As the youngest he was the most natural target; for years he has been taken blows from his brothers without delivering any of his own. While the Mythal’s are known for their prowess of speech, he lacks the art of insult, especially against these monsters. “Behave,” Terra playfully slapped her husband’s shoulder. Ever the opportunist, Ronan grabbed the hateful hand and began to slather kisses along each digit. This poor display made their audience groan. Crossroads was alive. The bridge had been decorated by the people of the Free Marches; garlands of flowers thrown everywhere, banners of the Dred Wolf hung at every entrance, the wine was flowing from every corner, food nearly bowed the trestle tables, and the people … the people were okay. Tomorrow they may remember the aches and pains, but for a moment in time, they are given the freedom to mingle and speak of the weather, their families, the game of chess they’ve lost to their child - anything. Tonight is meant for celebration and gods willing they will celebrate.
  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. HumanBean03

    The Blasted Badlands

    “Ah, you can’t find freedom like this anywhere,” Fawkes thought to herself. She was soaring over the windswept sands of the Badlands and the thermal updrafts were perfect this time of day. The wind rustled in the brown, black and white feathers of her 6-foot wingspan. Though the Badlands were extremely inhospitable to outsiders, it was home to Fawkes. She was one of the few Avians left in Valucre, as most of them thought that the world had become too populated with cities and settlements for them to be able to fly free. Her small tribe, consisting now of her brother and his family and a few of the other young Avians, moved to the Badlands after Odin Haze’s attack on Blaurg Mountain where they had been living for nearly four generations. But the move was not easy, they left Blaurg Mountain with 15 and now there were only 10. Some abandoned the group and flew back to the mountains and the flight out of Valucre and some were lost to the harshness of the Badlands. They created their own sort of nomadic tribe and even managed to befriend the Mahrjan tribe and setup a loose trade network with them. The Shai-leuth elders believed that the Avians were warriors of Gaia because their wings allowed them to be closer to the light of her glory. But today she was out enjoying one of the cooler parts of the day and seeing if she could spot anything worth trying to hunt. Fawkes was the best hunter in the flock, her keen Avian eyes were like those of a hawk and could pick out even the smallest prey, she almost always managed to bring something back for the flock even during the most extreme parts of the year. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something glint from the sand, she banked her wings and wiped the dust from her goggles. Beneath her she saw a sand-rat foraging through the sunbaked earth. Unlike normal rats, sand-rats were as big as wolves and had even worse tempers. Fawkes grabbed the Vakar spear from her back, flew up higher and then dove. She tucked her wings close to her back and felt the wind blow through her hair and sand sting her face. As she neared the ground, she snapped open her wings and threw her spear. The rat let out a long shriek and bared its teeth as the long double-sided blade buried itself in its side. She flew toward the sand-rat and pulled her spear from its side. In one swift motion she pirouetted in the air and slashed upward with her spear. The sand-rat let out a gargled scream and toppled over. “Not a bad catch. This will be great for tonight,” Fawkes said as she began cutting up her prize. The sun was beginning to set, and Fawkes knew that she would need to get back to the camp before even more rats came above ground. Stuffing the last of the meat and useful parts into her bag Fawkes took off and flew back to camp.
  16. The Red Festival Within the deepest and darkest parts of the Dark Forest, dim and low burning lanterns could be seen leading through a man made path towards what could only be described from afar as a dull source of red light with the deep thrumming of a foreboding bass like sound that nipped at the frontal lobe of the mind. On the path towards the light there walked hundreds and hundreds of beasts and monsters that had infested the nightmares of good men and women. Creatures that were of a lesser breed by their standards. Old Guard Orc clans known for warring and killing one another in an endless struggle to prove dominance and strength. Trolls of the darkened swamps where witchcraft and hoodoo thrived in a society based around sacrifice and ancestral spirits. Kobolds that crafted and mined the deep and rugged mountains. Lizard folk, Rat folk, Gnolls, Kenku, Drider, Yuan-Ti, ascended undead, and even the occasional Lich. All of them traversed the path leading to the faint source of light in the surrounding ethereal darkness. All of which would arrive at one defining location. Red. Crimson. Scarlett. All the various shades of red could not prepare one for the sheer volume of blood that was the final destination. It was as if one massive cadaver has painted the forest red. Banners soaked in the blood of the innocent were strewn across a massive clearing within the Dark Forest. Crude and almost childlike paintings of roses and other flowers were hung from trees next to the corpses of innocent human civilians that had been nailed to them to help stimulate the decor of the festival. Hundreds of booths, tents, and other temporary structures were erected and lined the massive clearing to serve food, drink, and sell various goods. A massive center stage had been built at the center of it all and sitting beneath it was a literal pool of blood. A large pond filled with the life force of what could of been hundreds of souls. All of it was like a punch to every sense the body could muster. The sights, the smells, the taste in the air itself. Grilling flesh and meats being cooked over flames. Music singing through the air only to accented by the screams of the men, women, and children of Tormo that had been tied to posts throughout the festival and were being stoned, tortured, or even eaten by the ravenous guests of the festival. Perhaps thousands were in attendance and the party had yet to officially begin. The energy in the air began to shift as more and more people drew into the party, and with the beginning round of drinks being served to their guests. Someone stepped onto the center stage. The black armored villain himself. Dredge was here to start the celebration right. He would not make many demands of his new people. He only wished to give a brief statement. So with a spell that amplified his voice his presence boomed across the clearing. ”Greetings, my children. All of you have been gathered here to be merry. To have a place where you can drink and be what you were born to be. To be what these humans would call you. Monsters.” His voice was steady as it leaned into the crowd. Showing them their insecurities. But no, when I look out at all these faces. I don’t see monsters. I see my people. You are all my brethren. I don’t see The unincluded, the vilified, the dregs and mobs to hunt down and kill to make the world a safer place for them!” Slowly his voice picked up to become louder and louder to tap into their anger over where they stood. ”Not here! not now! Tonight! You are all equal! Tonight! You are all family!” As heads all turned to Dredge in sudden awe smiles of both hope and evil light up their faces. ”I AM DREDGE!! SLAYER OF MAN AND DESTROYER OF WORLDS AND I ORDER YOU TO FEAST!! DRINK!! AND FORNICATE THE NIGHT AWAY!!! WELCOME MY FAMILY TO THE RED FESTIVAL!!!” If Dredge knew anything, it was how to work a crowd, and with his Wolf of Wall Street moment over it was time to bask in the reaction. Roses of delight and excitement ripped through the night air like a bat out of hell. The Red Festival had begun and it had started in a frenzy. Every where one looked bars, games, food stands, and posts where prisoners were kept were positively packed and alive with the manic energy that Dredge had inspired. Let the party begin.
  17. Synchronized iron covered boots stepped across the dirt roads of Terrenus’ rugged wilds. Like thunder the heels of a well trained and well equipped force marched as one to grow ever closer to their objective. One that was undoubtedly going to be of blood and death. Hob-Goblins, the despicable and vile creatures of the mountains that would come down from their hiding holes and pillage the lands below for resources. Only there was something very different about these beasts. They all wore uniform armor and were equipped with identical weapons and gear. Where normally these mindless animals were but mere rabble to be slaughtered, these were organized, intelligent, and well trained soldiers. All of which were marching in tight columns that stretched down the road. A hundred men all ready to kill and do so efficiently at a moment’s notice. This was due to one driving fact. At the helm of the formation, he stood. The black armored behemoth that had only graced Terrenus for perhaps a bit over a month, and he had already brought death and slaughter to hundreds. Dredge, the traveler from another world that had been brought here to balance the scales. To show Terrenus that they had grown comfortable in their ways. Content to fight the never ending battle of good and evil and drawing a line in the sand of what he considered to be false morality at its finest. The demon was here to do one thing today and one thing only. Acquire party favors. The Red Festival was in a week and they simply didn’t have enough prisoners from raiding Tormo to cut it. So it was time to go shopping. Though Tormo may of been gone and it’s survivors taken into protective custody, the surrounding villages were always up for grabs. Tiny little nameless places that always had enough people in it to serve up as a side dish. ”Halt!” Dredge yelled out and the disciplined formation came to a halt behind him. Staring down the hill he and his forces were perched upon, there it was. A suitable candidate. A village consisting of perhaps ten to twenty small huts and an inn or two. The perfect place to gather up waiting families and farmers to be a part of their little party. With a smile beneath his helmet, Dredge gave a little chuckle and looked over to his men. ”Kill a few to make examples of them. The fighting men, preferably. I want the women and children alive to be taken to the festival grounds. Is that understood?” Giving his orders with absolute authority, his strike force of Goblins grunted in response and readied themselves. ”Bring up the dire wolves as well. I don’t any of them fleeing into the forest.” And just like that, Dredge has sealed their fate. A horn was sounded and soon descended from the road was the strike force of hob-goblins giving out shouts and war cries for the coming slaughter. Screams of panic came from the village and it was music to Dredge’s ears as he calmly and casually walked down the hill and towards the village. It was best to let the children play a little before he came to collect. What fun.” The game was on.
  18. Grimshar

    An Iron Grip

    Tad whistled to himself as he strolled through the crowded streets of Aelindra, weaving through the people like a minnow among his school. To an outsider it would look as if he was completely at home among the people, wearing a tastefully skintight button up shirt, and a pair of summer slacks, he was about as common of a sight as you could get during a weekday. He had eschewed the use of his normal equipment, the bulky protective gear would only serve to draw attention, and possibly suspicion, to himself. He carried only his clothes, a pouch of small denomination coin, and what he considered to be a socially acceptable weapon of self defense, a small dagger kept sheathed at his belt. Even in a city as large and wealthy as itself, there was always the risk of being attacked, it would go against all of his better sense to walk around unarmed. He had been in the city for a few weeks now, he had been staying in a small hotel on the west side, it wasn't as nice as some of the other places that he had seen but it provided him a good location from which to start his morning operations. Every morning after preparing himself for the day, he would use the crossroads to travel to another part of the city, where he would immediately queue up to travel to another location, he would repeat this a few times before going to his actual destination. This served a few purposes, it attempted to prevent someone from determining his actual destination by visiting several proxy locations in between, it also allowed him to monitor the people who came through the portals after him, anyone that he saw follow him through several hops was likely watching him. If there weren't so many locations in the city to hop to, the tactic might not have worked, but he had gone his entire visit without using the same portals within a three day period, hopefully avoiding the scrutiny of any of the portal guards. His purpose in this city was to steal a valuable prototype, one of several that had been created, which were unregulated by any governing body, and necessary for the survival of one of his friends. He had heard of a tech similar to it when he was traveling through Union City several months back, and upon hearing that the same company was developing a significantly more advanced version, had promptly greased a few palms to find out where they were being developed and tested. One thing led to another, and he found himself making a trip to Aelindra with the intention of finding out more; that part had been easy, the engineers at the company had loose lips that were eager to talk about their project. The past few weeks were all about information gathering, subtly talking to the people involved with the project, researching the building layout, finding out what company ran security for them, when the busiest hours of the day were (and conversely the slowest times of day). His destination now was the security company in question, they had the layout of the building, the number of guards, and the patrol routes, all in one convenient location. He had already run through his limited knowledge on counter surveillance and was comfortable to proceed directly to the building. It was more of a warehouse, squat, only a few stories tall, with large cargo doors and a plain grey exterior. A sign was fastened securely to the building, just above the visitors entrance, proudly declaring the location of "Aelindra Tactical Response". The building was a combination of steel, stone, and wood; it was actually a curious piece of architecture, the original building having been made from stone, and the later additions made from framed wood. Security was tight, as you would expect from a company that sells security as their service, armed guards at every entrance, on the rooftop, and likely posted in the hallways. There was no way that he could go in the building, and sneak past them all, or fight his way through them. The security was just as tight at night, something that had irked him, they must have some high value clients to warrant such extreme measures around the clock. So he would revert to what he did best, pyrotechnics. Fire, or rather smoke, was a huge concern in a building. If you got yourself trapped in a burning building, odds are you would either suffocate or burn to death. So he would light a fire to flush out the people inside, and hope that anyone left inside would be too busy hunkering down in a safe area to spot him. He had a vague plan too, enter the public area during the confusion and pretend he was returning to get something vitally important, sneak into the operations area, rifle through the files until he found the right one, and then get out. Easy enough, right? He slipped easily out of the flow of traffic, ducking into the narrow alleyway that ran along the western edge of the building, it was probably six feet across and bordered one of the wooden walled expansions. Foot traffic was low, the alleyway dirty, perfect for starting a fire. He would have a few minutes once the first started to move back to the south side of the building, where the entrance was, to wait for the rush of people exiting. He hoped the files he needed weren't on the second or third floor, that would complicate things, and he wasn't sure if there was a basement, which would be even worse. He placed his hand on the wall as he strode, casually laying a thick layer of his special combustible material on the wall in a thick stripe. His hand started going numb, almost like it was falling asleep, as the blood drained through his pores to create it. When the stripe was about twelve feet long he stopped, stepped back, and lit it on fire. The whole stripe erupted with a whoosh, flames licking greedily up the side of the building, the material would burn cleanly, the wood would not. He turned back towards south opening of the alley and trotted off, slipping casually back into the flow of traffic to await the subsequent discovery of the fire, and the panic. Then, he would enter the building in search of the files he needed.
  19. Hurttoto

    The Diplomatic Arrival

    [LEXDORD CAPITAL CITY] It was a nice day in the kingdom of Lexdord, as the morning breeze echoed itself throughout the land bringing clear clean air along with it, it was warm as the sun rose from its depths of darkness. The king had been awake an hour before, as he was prepairing to meet with some diplomats. In his floating castle made of gleaming marble he was measured and had talors fabricate a thinner more fit clothing for him. "How does diplomacy work again? Its still kinda a funny subject to work with" The informant merely said that to be friendly with others and by agreeing to neutral grounds to gather freinds is of an upmost importance if this kingdom was to last. Lewis however had diffrent plans, he wasnt thinking about staying forever for eventully when his crew find out where they are in the cosmos they would set off immediately back home. At least that was the current plan of course making some friends wouldn't hurt. Laying around the table were the other surviving members of his crew and the city mayors, meny whom have not been properly introduced. The chatting was going around as reports came in through telephone networks and screen showcasing the latest economic status of the kingdom, the one type of product that was still slugging behind was food, and agriculture products. "Lets hope that these nee comers offer food" The royal adviser whispered. And was quiet awaiting for the guests to arrive. (Its not too short is it?)
  20. Lacernella Rubra

    Mother Gaia's Home for the Lost.

    In Dougton, there was once an orphanage. It was capable of housing 24 children - quite the feat for a single headmistress. It was a gorgeous home with an inviting layout. Though it's headmistress had long ago disappeared, and various schemes had been planned behind it's walls, it had finally been given hope once more. Rebirth through the war, an opportunity to help. Those children displaced by the current civil war are most welcomed, with open (though slightly green) arms. The orphanage runs off of self-sustainability, a small farmyard behind the house, and lanterns to light their way. Children who come to this place are taught all the basic skills, as well as how to defend themselves to some minor degree. This is to hope that they will never become victims to tyranny, or will choose to stand against what they know is wrong. A strong sense of moral Justice is offered to those willing to learn it. For the moment, the orphanage only houses 3 children. All of them from Blairville, and consisting of one boy and two young girls. The young man, Peter(age 12), has taken it upon himself to be a protector of sorts for Lucy (age 8 ) and Ruby (Age 6). While scared and distrustful, they have come to think of the orphanage as a second home where they will be protected and safe. Dhizzandra watches over them with pleased determination. The Dryad is simply happy to have a place to belong in this world - and she is pleased to help others, as well. Children 13 Adults 18 Completion of necessary buildings 10% Important threads/children acquisition: Home of the Brave. Children currently available for adoption: Blairville children: Peter – Age 12 – Blonde and amber eyed. He is a cautious, but brave young man who dislikes bullying. Lucy – Age 8 – Shy and slow to trust, a little bit bossy, as well. Lucy is definitely a kid who requires patience. Ruby – Age 6. Sweet and all too trusting, she’s got a sweet tooth like no other, however. Izral Children: Susan – Age 14 – An older, jaded girl who was rescued by Jericho from a brothel in Izral. She doesn’t have much hope for the world, but she’s learning that not everyone is bad. Brinley – Age 8 – Young and cheerful, she takes joy in simple things. Jessica – Age 6 – Another young and cheerful child. She likes butterflies and flowers, but we aren’t into the flavor red this week. William – age 4. – This young boy loves to run in mud puddles and play with worms, as young boys tend to do. Caitlyn – Age 2 – Often influenced by William regarding bugs and mud. She particularly dislikes nap-time. Derrick – Age 10 – Idolizes Peter and wants to protect the others from ever being treated poorly again. He’s often defensive on first meetings. Jonathan – Age 1 – Babbles with attitude. Hates diapers. Andromeda – Age 6 months – Sleeps a lot, when not screaming. Daniella – Age 10 – Sullen and moody, prone to dramatics. Kendra – Age 12 – Preteen. No more need be said.
  21. Floracle Flower Shop and Apothecary - Grand Re-Opening OOC thread Though it was barely 7:00am, Valentine Marie had been awake for hours. Her morning had consisted of coffee, sweeping, floral arrangements, coffee, dusting, re-arranging the flowers, coffee- and though the Floracle Flower Shop and Apothecary was spotless, sparkling, and splendid, Val just knew she was forgetting something. The young woman's tawny red hair burned in the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows as she stood in the center of the shop, staring around her with uncertainty. The counters. Of course! The counters needed to be polished. Again. Valentine swiped a polishing cloth from the supply cupboard and began to knead the old gnarled counter with furious circular motions. She had been at it for at least ten minutes when the sound of the courtyard door creaking open drew a wild look from those sky blue eyes. Her polishing grew in intensity as she called out, "I'm so sorry, but we open at 9:00am! Come back lat-" "-Haven't you heard of the 'early bird' special?" Valentine's ears perked up, her lips cracking into a wide grin. In an instant she had leaped into her twin's arms, holding his head in something akin to an affectionate vice grip. "Caspian!" she shouted, her voice carrying the shrill excitement of a person who has been reunited with their best friend. To his credit, Caspian did not immediately drop his sister after receiving a scream directly to the eardrum. He wouldn't have succeeded even if he'd tried; Valentine's arms were still locked around his neck with surprising fierceness for someone of her size. The scholar tried to choke out a 'hello,' but only managed a strangled gurgling sound. Blissfully aloof to her brother's suffering, Valentine held on for a moment longer before loosening her grip to hold her twin at arm's length. "My, you've grown so much taller since I last saw you!" Her bright blue eyes twinkled as she beheld his stylish scholar's uniform. "The academy has turned my baby brother into a handsome young thing!" By now, the botanist's hands were squishing her twin's cheeks together in a comical, fish-lipped expression -much to his chagrin. He batted weakly at her hands, though was eventually able to force them down and away. "It's been two weeks," the mage said, hefting an exasperated sigh. "Two weeks. And you're only older by, what, 20 minutes?" Valentine barked out a laugh, watching as her brother took a look around the colorful, splendorous shop. "You've really cleaned up the place. He left way more stock behind than I remembered." The main shop area was bursting with floral blooms, most of them native to Terrenus, but a few hailed from lands as far as Aelindra and other temperate regions of Genesaris. A spell of longevity would keep the beautiful blooms intact for weeks longer than ordinary flowers; indeed, though imperceptibly different to the untrained eye, older cuts were mixed into the fresh blooms spread throughout the shop. Part of the purpose behind this grand re-opening was to purge the store of older stock to make way for newer, more exotic flowers. It pained Valentine to think that the last flowers her grandfather had cut before his death would be gone after today. His death hadn't been unexpected, but the weight of his old silver secateurs still felt heavy in her pocket. She offered her brother a slight smile. "I actually grew most of this in the past week or two." His head swung sharply in her direction. "You did what? All of this?" The woman nodded, sticking her hands in the pockets of her light blue skirts. "Have you slept, Valentine?" The botanist shrugged, swiping her polishing rag off of the counter to continue the fretful chore. Caspian noted the slight bags under his sister's eyes, watched her hands tremble a little as she worked the soft cloth in methodical circles. He ran a hand through his mop of red hair. "You know, one of the most important things they teach at the Academy is not to overexert yourself," he said, his voice careful but not without the note of haughtiness typical for a recent graduate. "Casting too many spells in so short a time can be especially taxing for someone without formal trainin-" "The shop looks beautiful, doesn't it?" Valentine stared up at her brother, though her hands continued to polish the old, gnarled countertop. "After today, we can slow down. But you were the one who told me we needed to make an impression." Caspian stared at her for a second, his mind whirring behind those leaf-green eyes. After a moment, he removed the round-rimmed glasses from his face, polished the lenses with a corner of his tunic, and replaced them on his head. "Alright," he spoke, shrugging the jacket from his shoulders. "How can I help?" One would find it difficult to pass by the Floracle Flower Shop and Apothecary on this particularly sunny, breezy morning without at least admiring the rainbow of flowers bursting from dark wooden stands lining the sidewalk. The storefront itself was characterized by elegant, floor-to-ceiling windows, letting the golden light flood into the shop and accentuate vibrant blue floor tiles. Upon entering, one was immediately accosted by a heavy floral scent, though pollen was kept at bay by a clever containment spell crafted to accommodate customers with allergies. The shop itself was simply adorned, with a few ribbons and banners marking the re-opening celebration; the flowers themselves were the main attraction, with blooms lining the walls in layers and layers of color and texture. Display stands were strategically arranged throughout the shop, with different categories of flowers featured in each spiraling column. Every stand had been handcrafted in a dark, heavy wood by the previous shopkeeper, mimicking the bark of a tree. The shop was clearly a valued, well-loved heirloom, with hand-carved floral designs embedded into every visible wooden surface. The only thing not hand-crafted was a small bulletin board to the immediate right of the main entrance, displaying various flyers and advertisements for other shops around Casper. One bold sign spelled out the words 'ROOM AVAILABLE FOR RENT: CONTACT VALENTINE MARIE' in a sensible green font. Further back into the shop, one faced the option of either ascending a grand staircase up to a balcony overlooking the main area, or entering through a set of glass sliding doors to another room. The upper level balcony featured a forest of ferns and other tropical plants, with lush vines and leaves spilling over the railing. This curtain of green partially obscured the windows of the room below. If one chose to pass through the glass sliding doors, they would enter a room with dried herbs and ingredients in neat glass containers lining shelves along the wall. Other ingredients were strung from the ceiling, necessitating particularly tall patrons to mind their step. An island in the center of the room allowed the resident apothecary to advise customers on the best spells and ingredients to suit their needs; if the customer so chose, the apothecary would mix the ingredients before their very eyes to create charms and tinctures, then package the goods in a brown paper parcel tied shut with a string. On the righthand side of the apothecary's room was another glass sliding door, this one leading to a greenhouse made of shimmering, green-tinted glass. Though normally inaccessible to the public, today the greenhouse doors were unlocked and awaiting visitors. Upon entering, one would find rows and rows of pots of every shape and size growing all manner of plants. Aided by a spell cast with love, it was possible to watch the sprouts lengthen, produce leaves, and bloom before one's very eyes. Hanging plants dripped leaves from the ceiling, and the bright sunlight glittered against an artificial creek trickling across the greenhouse floor. Another swinging door allowed visitors to exit the greenhouse and enjoy the quaint courtyard beyond. The courtyard featured several tall, proud trees that were already bursting with apples, oranges, lemons, peaches, and every other fruit imaginable- often several different types of fruit could be spotted growing on the same tree. The thick branches provided some shade for visitors who rested at modest tables set up throughout the yard, or for those content to meander the space, admiring the well-manicured garden. A picket fence nearly hidden by twisting, nimble vines separated the courtyard from the sidewalk, though all were welcome to stop and enjoy the garden- even if they did not seek the Floracle's business within. Another swinging door connected the courtyard to the shop; the entire lot was arranged in a roughly square 2x2 grid so that the courtyard was directly adjacent to the main shop. Valentine busied herself in offering pastries and coffee to incoming guests (the food had been catered from a local bakery, though Val wanted to incorporate a full-on coffee shop at some point in the future). Patrons were often surprised at her habit of suggesting just the right flower for their situation, and the shop soon swelled in warm emotions and wonderful smiles. Caspian stood at the apothecary's counter, offering his advice (even when unwarranted) to customers who sought something stronger than flowers. His advice was good, and his manner was friendly, though the young scholar had a habit of excitedly spouting information at even the slightest prompting. A simple spell handled the packaging of ingredients and charms, leaving Caspian free to peruse the shelves at his leisure. As the activity began to pick up, Valentine took a moment to gather her thoughts and gaze around the shop, inhaling the scent of her home with a slight smile on her face. A new chapter in their lives had begun.
  22. Piperpie

    Little House in the Mountains

    The air was crisp and clear from the cold night's chill. The moon was full, and the sky spattered with stars. Everything was quiet. Peaceful, even. There lay a small clearing nestled between the trees and the base of the mountains. The ground was a blend between rock and grass, and mostly flat. Over a small canopy of trees beyond this flat ground lie a river, a perfect supply of fish and fresh water. It gurgled quietly, not wanting to break the hush of the night. This place would be perfect. A large wolf, its fur mottled with grey and browns, sat at the edge of the clearing with the mountain to its back. The huge creature would have been nearly invisible to the naked eye, blending in with its environment almost completely, except for its piercing gold eyes that glowed through the shadows. Those eyes took in everything. The sky, the ground, and the trees beyond. She nodded slowly, approvingly. This place is beyond perfect. Ziva rolled off her haunches and onto her paws, her thick claws digging into the clay-like ground below her. She trotted across the clearing. She closed her eyes, focusing on her nose. The air was clear of any stench, she could not smell any markings of one who may have come before her. This place was untouched. Unclaimed. Now it belonged to her. She slowly began making her way around the clearing, rubbing her thick fur against every trunk, and digging her paws into the unmarked earth. The scent glands located between her toes left a satisfying smell on the sparse grass and dirt. Mine. Werewolves were very territorial. Once something was marked as theirs, they would not hesitate to fight to the death for it. Ziva felt this way when she first laid eyes on this clearing. Ziva padded back to where the ground began to incline, and stretched into a laying down position. There wasn't much more she could do under the blanket of the night. The rest of the tasks she would like to do to this land were human chores. Humans slept at night, so those chores would have to wait until morning. Ziva rested her giant head on her paws, and sighed heavily. She always had trouble sleeping at night. She missed the deep sleep that she could always get to when she was human. For now, she was happy with a nice doze. Her eyes were closed but her ears were at attention, flicking and rotating every now and then to check and double check for any unusual sounds while she was in this vulnerable position. Enjoying the cool breeze of the night and the soft wind that tickled her fur, Ziva waited for morning.
  23. Fright Night It was like any other night in the wild and rugged lands of Terrenus. Winds softly whistling through the pines, mist that danced off the rivers and lakes, and the good people of the small city of Tormo were settling down for night. All of the natural beauty of this land was bathed under the milk light of the moon. Everything in the world was simple, it was easy and life was good. Tormo was a rather small city out in the wilds of the continent, more of a large town really. Once an old trading post, it now was a bustling town that lived and harvested the natural splendor of the environment around it. Truly it was a place where people from around the wilds could come and trade, restock on supplies, and as of late the growth and economy of the town had been booming they could settle there. This was due to a lot of the chaos that was Terrenus. Between multiple wars and even the macro level events that currently gripped the continent, a lot of people found that life was still easy going and far removed from most bloodshed that effected the city states and folk. Out here a person could live off the fat of the land and have a peaceful life, and that’s what people did. Truly it was a beautiful and one might dare to say heartwarming feat of human and demi-human kindness and strength that allowed races across the aisle to come together and do their best as one. Tormo was a testament to that and everyone for the most part was happy. But before you get the idea that this is a happy and uplifting story into your mind. It’s not. People often forgot the trade for living such a nice and comfortable life in the wild. There were monsters. Eyes. Deep blood red crimson eyes opened and shined through the evergreen tree line’s darkness. Not just a single set, but what seemed to be hundreds that all gleamed much like a predator stalking its prey in the dead of night. All of them stared down at the large town and in the center of it all, standing tall among the others were a pair of mad and deranged eyes and beneath it a illuminated Cheshire grin of glistening white fangs spread across what was without a doubt a horrific face that was hidden by the shadows of the forest. Darkness had gathered here, and they were ready to make their first move. ”Everyone knows the plan.” The deep baritone of the villain’s voice radiated outwards in a soft reminder to those around him to call them to arms. There was no speech, no fist pumping, or impenetrable shield wall with iron and fists clanging against it as their leader let out a booming war cry. No, none of that happened. The voice commanded and inspired fear, courage, and bloodlust beyond most’s wildest dreams with three simple words. ”Kill them all.” And just like that, the order was given. Howls. Beast like and filled with the most furious pitches of anger and rage broke the stillness of the calm night air. Women and children stirred from their beds, guards began to clammor from a lazy and half assed excuse of a fire watch. But it was too late. Like a swarm of ants to the life giving carcass of an fallen animal, from each side they rushed. Goblins traveling to near every side of the wall, joining them was the occasional massive Bugbear standing at around six to seven feet tall. They had easily crossed the distance with the town guard still scurrying to mount a pathetic defense. Surging and crawling up the wooden walls of the city, dozens of goblins had crossed the threshold into Tormo and were within its walls with more on their way every moment. They carried with them torches, blades, and brought death and destruction to those unlucky enough to cross their path. The attack had begun. ”Team A, prepare yourself. Let the goblins mold into the city before we make our move. Let it burn.” It was almost time to make the plots and plans of this group of scum and villainy a reality. ((Mood music))
  24. Old Man Jean

    Alam Airfield [Hub]

    A small private airstrip and hangar located in Zaharadia, Terrenus; a small farming village two hundred miles south of Selemath. It is the home of Gaim Alam and is directly adjacent to his mother's residence, a large single story ranch encompassing hundreds of acres. The Alam Airfield is a private air strip which can accommodate small to medium sized aircraft on it's paved runway but has no provision for storage outside of the occupied hangar which doubles as a small apartment for Gaim. It is the headquarters of 'Old Soul Privateer', a single man mercenary combat wing of which Gaim is the pilot and mechanic. Gaim is home quite often, generally only gone from the location when out on a job.
  25. Csl

    Gestalt

    I There was something deeply wrong with Cassandra . She’d always been a quiet one. As far as Madrias knew, he was her only close friend among the crowds of students that called the Academy home. Not that she was antisocial, no; Cassandra didn’t mind talking to people- many a visitor to the island had been met with her gentle questions, inquiries about where they’d come from, where they’d been, the nature of things. It was simply that Cassandra mostly kept to herself, nose often buried in a book, gaze often distant or fixated on some object or individual near or far. When she was with him, though, her silence lifted, and she’d regale him with stories about the realms of magic, the planes of existence, philosophical questions about reality, the universe, the cosmos. She’d tell of her theories about aquatic blots or the identity of the War Fox, the genius loci, and the systems of magic that existed across the planet. There were times when she’d seem to disappear, and he’d be unable to find her in the classes they shared. Eventually, though, she’d always pop up, ready with another story or theory about this species of dragon or that weather phenomena. Lately, she seemed to be avoiding him. She’d always been ghostlike, in a way. Wispy black hair and a pale complexion, paired with that graceful, fluid way of moving, never-faltering in her gait This had been particularly true since last week when she’d come to class wearing that shawl over her eyes. He’d asked why; she’d said her eyes hurt. He’d told her to go to the infirmary; she had, and sightings of her since then were scarce. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been moving at a fast, nervous walk, a shawl shrouding her eyes. Madrias leaned on his quarterstaff, sighing. As part of campus security, he’d been stationed near the catacombs today. Relatively boring work- nothing notable had come up since that undead uprising some years ago, but occasionally troublemakers would come this way to... well... stir up some trouble. There were three of them stationed around the entrance of the flooded depths, the obelisk rising high behind the three men. Madrias let his gaze drift, still worried about his friend. Cassandra had come from a relatively well-off family, though he knew little of them. On that topic, she spoke little of.
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