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Found 625 results

  1. The dark ruler, announced Lord of Vampires, Him of Crows ascended from his profound sleep right around a couple of months back in the Haunted Glen. Relics of shrewdness and exceptional power was the reason for his entry from the place he called the Underworld. It was there he procured the Chateau De Choisel, an mansion once colonized by a coven of local vampyre. Heavily protected by undead of assorted types, figures of grotesqueness, a few packs of spiritual apparition wolves, and the colossal interwoven tissue mass; a blundering monstrosity cobbled together from save parts in awkward satire of a human frame. It is even said that with the end goal for one to make it into the Chateau, one should discover it's way through the consistently changing hauntings of a labyrinth with only one true path. It wasn't long after until the point when he transformed the haunted bequest into what might be known as a Crack House and Feeding Sanctum for all to come enjoy their most out of control drugs or lusty fantasies in a prison chamber underneath the Manor itself. Just for a little expense, obviously. Volunteers whom served the standard of Choisel were compensated for their administrations, while numerous other people who wanted the private quarters without wanting to stress over their criminal treacherous exercises were charged every hour for said housing. Alongside his wake, he brought with him a large number of his coven from the House of Choisel. This enormity of man, demon, however more essentially, the Congregation of Kabbalat alluded to him as the Antichrist, vanquished all in which resisted his army, power, and his honored position as a leader of the Underworld. He crushed numerous mortal creatures, numerous proclaimed rulers and their kingdoms had fallen unfit against the oppression and mayhem that was delivered from the colossal Kronos of the Thirsty. A divine being among divine beings, the son of the devil, unadulterated with fiendishness and immortality as legend predicted it, this monstrosity was relentless in his rule of darkness curtaining over the lands. He conceded all and any the chance at an everlasting life, wealth for more noteworthy than any lord could offer thusly for their fealty, their souls, the taste and extravagance of their blood. Numerous would decrease such an offer considered crazy and unworthy, yet what they neglected to acknowledge in this supposed life and age everything had accompanied a cost. Nothing would be free, not even the air they inhaled, or the water they would drink. While others discovered this offering a possibility at recovery, to start over again, having something that was once never envisioned. Hundreds would accumulate under the Choisel House for the guarantees. They would find that what the man proposed was undoubtedly not a fabrication, they were given similarly as he said everything any man or lady who had never had such an open door, this was not a lie but rather a fact in his words. A dark legion would ascend over hundreds of undead fiends, wendigos, banshee, rotting cadavers, lost souls and vampires join under the lordship of that solitary element. His matchless quality over the Glen had turned into a power to figure, an alarming nightmare. With his control over the domain and thanks to his personal assistant and Doctor approached an ailment, the vampiric torment, otherwise called Elixurl Vietti or the Elixir of Life. In return for her administrations he set up a little facility for her work studies about and gave her vital subsidizing through various producing livelihoods. Publicized as a cure all remedy, this Exilir was advised to allow it's consumer imperishability and impeccable essentialness. From the Glen to fourty miles North in the Copper City known as Tia, this vial of thick and unscented red liquid was managed uninhibitedly at no cost to start what was known as the time for testing. Numerous which were wiped out and sick with hopeless infections and maladies went for this Elixir originating from all sides of Terrenus just to get it's 100% adequacy and free their infirmities which even specialists asserted meds couldn't cure. They weren't right. Not exclusively were the doctors off base, the general population of Terrenus had no clue on how they were really being freed free of what even the best specialists said was incomprehensible. One was to drink just a solitary seven milligram vial of the cure. In any case, this cure accomplished something other than cure their ailment. It transformed them into vampire under the summon of the unrivaled, Leinhart Choisel. Inside six to twelve hours of introduction, the casualty built up a cerebral pain, fever, chills and other influenza like side effects—and also an uncommon increment in digestion and heart yield as the infection spreaded all through the body. These indications were effectively mistaken for more typical contaminations. This stage by and large kept going another six to twelve hours. Stage one was known as the Contamination. Inside 24 hours of presentation, the casualty slipped into a vampiric extreme lethargies. Around 10 hours into this stage, the heart beat moderates, breathing is shallow and the understudies are expanded. Thousands have been buried alive along these lines. While it is usually trusted that anybody tainted transforms into a vampire, in truth just a little level of individuals survive the vampiric extreme lethargies. By and large, the youthful, old and weak never leave their trance states and in the long beyond words, by far most of survivors are males between the ages of 18 to 35. For the last gathering, the vampiric trance like state last about a day and commonly end around evening time, yet the previous statistic may wait for an extra day or so before death. Stage two was known as the Unconsciousness. A casualty who survived the unconsciousness stirred completely changed into a vampire. An acclimation period takes after—described by perplexity, depression and neurosis, alongside the distress of drying out and lack of healthy sustenance. Before long, a mind-boggling strive after blood assumes control and muffles every single other need and concerns. Inside 24 hours of change, the vampire deserted its previous life and start chasing—beginning with pets, and even loved ones, if require be. The last stage was known as the Change. It wasn't long after his welcome into Tia that he procured almost a thousand followers because of the establishing of said Elixir. An extensive bit of the Copper City had tumbled to his control, the lesser vampyre there were no match for the pureblood and his coven. Just on the edges of the Haunted, fifty miles underneath the Gaian Foundation raised a city once directed by a gathering of religious individuals. A victorian-esque town of old an antiquated. It was the main place noone would expect such a grave abhorrence to wait about. Crosses and religious symbols of godly imagery still stood tall as relics of the past, talking stories and legends that never again existed. These individuals were the first to attempt and foil his activities of populating the zone with vampires. Rather, they fell impressively, obliterating to fiery debris. This was truth to exposed witness that no Congregation of God could annul this creature. Presently overran by the House of Choisel, the place filled in as one of a few reserve spots for his criminal movements. The dark legion had amassed themselves there under what appeared to now be an endless Red Moon. Merely, it was just the beginning.
  2. Praetorian

    Wonderland Resort

    (This is the general hub thread. It represents the entirety of the resort. Links will be posted to this post as event threads open up.) Winding up the mountain are a series of trails, trams, and lifts that create a web of ascents and descents that turn the once barren terrain into a work of modern art. The beauty certainly can’t be called natural by any stretch of the imagination, however there is definitely something breathtaking about it. At the nexus of all these pathways, near the zenith of the mountain, a massive complex of interconnected buildings sits in near solitude. At first glance they appear to be wood, maybe oak or maple. However, careful inspection reveals that they are brushed concrete, stained to look like planks. This is part of the charming illusion, for as fake as the wood is, so is the snow. The high altitude minimizes precipitation, but the ever industrious and crafty engineers of Wonderland Resorts ™ were delighted by this challenge and cooked up a wonderful concoction known as Everlast Snow ™. And so, it is, that there is never not snow. Fresh powdery, soft, not made of water, definitely never melts, could be toxic so please don’t eat it (please sign the waiver!), beautiful shimmering and glittering super white (racist white?), supersolid (So solid it is liquid! But not really.) snow. Of course, one doesn’t just come to a ski resort for not-snow ®. That would be preposterous, ridiculous, unimaginably foolish, and silly beyond all means of comprehension. When one abandons their comfortable lifestyle, their cushy chairs, and their nice warm homes to go barreling down steep, sleek, deadly mountain cliffs in an out-of-control slide at ungodly speeds, they are clearly looking to live a little, to indulge. Recognizing the needs of the people, Ross Edmund in all of his infinite wisdom, constructed not just one but five separate and unique structures centered around natural hot springs (Please don’t drink!) and possibly an active volcano (Geothermal power!). The most central of these and largest of these buildings is the Contrarier Ski Lodge, which is co-located with the second largest building, the Venin Tavern and Grill. At first glance the Contrarier appears rustic, but between every false wood panel, and two-way mirror, are numerous glyphs and runes which project holographic display across the floor and through the air. Weather updates, Daily Weekly Reports, as well as imported videos from other times and places dance across open spaces keeping visitors inundated with sights and sounds. There is a unique feel of past meets future which is only further reinforced by the numerous edgeless swimming pools that are fed directly by the hot springs and are inset into recesses and caves within the mountains side. And while the lodge has numerous estate rooms and suites, that none of you can afford, there is a huge common area for the commoners to gather for free and common-about. Firepits, heat lamps, fireplaces, plush couches, wooden chairs, and coffee tables, are scattered about, affording the tired and weary skier an opportunity to rest up, warm up, and drink up, mostly for free. As a compliment to the lodge, the Venin Tavern and Grill is both low tech and made from real wood! It features traditional wooden designs, such as picnic tables and benches. Although the Gargoyle Salad or Land Shark Pepper Steak are award winning dishes, most people come for the personal pizzas that you get with every purchase of a drink. Usually live music, (Lots of Tyler Slow cover bands) of the most trendy and popular variety is playing center stage, adding to the natural chaos of drunken revelry. Contrasting the simplicity of the tavern is Club Invidia. The club, which has a thumping bass from sunset to sunrise, is stylized as sleek and futuristic. The well-polished steel walls sharply contrast vantablack clad statues and pillars that decorate the dance floor. A constant fog rolls across the ground as lasers and strobes illuminate the dense cloud with a rainbow of colors. Cages rise and lower from the ceiling as stranger randomly climb into them to dance/dry hump together. And although it might be something of a hazard, hot tubs are inset into the floors along the edges of the walls, giving strung out dancers something to fall into. For those that need a break from the noise, Wonderland Resorts offers the Fastidio Water Park and the Supplice Spa. The Fastidio Water Park is a series wave pools, salt water tanks, mineral water hot tubs, and fresh water baths that are all connected by a series of lazy rivers and water elevators. Needless to say, as one drifts from one spot to the next, there is never a floating Tiki bar too far away. It’s often thought that the extreme and dynamic temperature changes between each larger body of water, as the water is all kept at different temperature, coupled with the fact that that hottest pools are kept outside in the frigid air, leads to a therapeutic type of thermodynamic shock that purifies the pores and rejuvenates the skin (Or gives you a heart attack, 50/50 really). And with all the fake palm trees around, you may even forget you’re on top of a mountain! (But probably not, it’s a little hard to breath up here.) For those with a little extra cash to blow, the Supplice Spa offers it all. Facials, mud baths, steam rooms, sensory deprivation tanks where you can have psychedelic trips as you get lost within your own mind, massages, electroshock therapy, and of course manicures and pedicures. Now for those of you that have come looking to feel alive, we’ve got two flavors for you. The first is Chapel Mensonge, which holds none denomination all faith worship services every Thursday evening, Saturday Morning, and Sunday Morning. Sometimes you just need your sins forgiven, sometimes you’ve found true love and just NEED to get married. Other times you are about to do something really stupid crazy dangerous and wouldn’t mind a combination blessing and baptism! Regardless of what your religious needs are, our Chapel can take care of them for you! (We also do Funerals every Tuesday!) But truth be told, no one goes to a ski resort and doesn’t ski. And so of course, you are always welcome to risk life and limb on our Verargern Slopes. These slopes twist and turn around rock outcroppings, shoot straight off of near vertical cliffs, and weave in and out of miles upon miles of trees. If you’re feeling a little more daring, our terrain park has jumps, bumps, rails, hoops, loops, flames, logs, enraged polar bears, monstrous hawks that will steal your small children, and enchanted snowmen that will pelt the ever loving crap out of you with snowballs. (We are not legally responsible and/or liable for you being eaten, getting lost, freezing to death, or acts of cannibalism. Your stupid ass not only signed a waiver but also paid us so that we’d let you ski off of our mountain.)
  3. MJ2431

    Captured

    Azra felt the boat tip as it entered the unprotected waters of the open ocean, the floor of her cabin shifting beneath her feet and and bringing an urge for her to lunge for the nearby bed post. She caught it in time as her heeled boots slid along the wooden floorboards, the porthole window to her right blowing open and sending sea mist spraying into her face. "If I'm going to be held here against my will the least they could do is provide a window with a working latch!" She mumbled under her breath, needing to really stretch her arms in order to wipe her face since her bound hands made the task more trying than usual. They had left the the docks (located at the edge of the town of Casper) a few minutes earlier, the restraints still on her wrists making it difficult for her to adapt to the sudden shift from land to water...especially considering the stormy conditions she had seen as she was being forced onto the ship. Azra recalled the steel-grey skies and choppy waves that had rocked the boat even before they had left the confines of the harbors stone walls. She straightened once more, rattling the chain linking the iron cuffs circling her wrists. She had tested them out already to see how strong they were and was disappointed once again by the solidity of the metal. The female let out an irritated huff, "Stupid Allorian metal. Blocks off all my abilities....I could have been out of here already but it looks like they've dealt with other Elementals before." Azra walked over to the door, hearing the talking on the other side of the thick wooden door of the two brutish guards who had escorted her here. "Hey! I know you two idiots can hear me! I'm kinda hungry!" There was a sudden loud bang on the door as one of the guards threw his fist into it, a gruff voice shouting at her, "You'll wait like everyone else for some grub you witch! Ain't no special treatment here for you scum!" Azra grumbled irritably, walking back over to the bed and falling down onto the rock-hard mattress. "I knew I should have just let that guy go..." She crossed her legs, glad at least for the comfort of her leather pants and billowing, white cotton top with its loose sleeves she had decided to wear that day. Getting captured certainly would have been more troublesome in a dress. The woman thought back to earlier that morning when she had been visiting the more crusty downtown area of the city where she had been negotiating with a black-market swords dealer. She was so busy focusing on his wares that she had almost not noticed the pickpocket who snatched her satchel from her. After she had finally caught the pickpocket in a narrow alley, the female had threatened him using some of the blue flame she could summon to the palm of her hand to get her belongings back. The female had gotten back her satchel, but not without being noticed by a pair of town guards that had been patrolling the area. She was subdued eventually (after giving the one guard a black eye) and taken down to the nearest Lawkeeper where she was restrained with the infuriating enchanted cuffs. After searching through her satchels contents and finding the illegal wares she had splurged on in the black market, it had been beyond easy to convict her as a probable terrorist. The girl had quickly been booked on the next ship heading out of town so that she could serve some time working in the city's nearby mine and agricultural trading points a little further down the coast. The memories of the day's events had put her in a foul mood and the thought that she may die at sea made her even grumpier. Suddenly, she picked up on a different sound...the thudding of boots coming down the corridor she had been dragged through moments ago before being thrust into this room. The female sat up, fumbling off the bed as she made her way back to the door.
  4. ShakinMcBacon

    The Night Was Calm

    The night was calm. A slight breeze rustled the boy’s hair, playing it across his pale forehead. He was tall for his age, and is hair was fair despite his dirtiness. His youthfulness contrasted sharply against the bleak and ruined buildings, which rose tall and dark into the night sky. An empty sack was in his hand, and he picked his way through the rubble towards a crumbling factory. The company sign had worn off long ago. He produced a small lamp from a satchel slung over his shoulder, and the pale light casted upon the dark interior. What was once a reception, some ruined chairs, a destroyed vending machine, all covered in a film of dust within the small lobby. The boy rubbed away the light brown dust on the drink machine, but saw it was empty. Moving on, he opened a heavy metal door, grunting with exertion. The hinges moaned and protested, but the door swung open into the large assembly chamber. Lifting the lamp and peering into the darkness, he could just make out the shape of a machine. Climbing down the metal catwalk, the stairs long rusted away, he approached the seemingly massive machine. He tried to imagine it functioning, the noise, the steam, the gleaming metal men marching out of it. The boy had only seen the rusted remnants of a shiny man, but had listened to his grandfather talk of them. He had called them ‘robots’, and spoke of their servitude to humans. He also spoke of the horrors they had committed, after the ‘Great Shift’. Thoughts aside, he set to work looking for the items his father needed: a few batteries, some Old World books, as much wire as he could carry. While prying a particularly bothersome clump of wires from the machine, he noticed a dull, amber light somewhere deeper in the factory. Frowning, he approached it warily, lifting the lamp higher and casting its light onto the source of the amber glow. It was robot lying against another machine, it’s body rusted and in pieces. Only it’s head was intact, and the glow was produced by its mechanical eyes. "System protocol: boot phase imminent: systems in critical condition: routi-” the robot’s metallic voice was cut off abruptly as the boy swung a piece of pipe with all his strength, crushing the head. The amber light faded away, and the factory fell silent once more. Shaking his head, the boy dropped the pipe and walked back to the machine. He turned back to the wire, and tugged it free with a metallic snap. ~Quick note: the setting is a bleakish sci-fi, similar to Isaac Asimov. The three laws of robotics mentioned in his books will be present, if you aren't familiar with them, then no problem. World is in no way fully fleshed out, so feel free to add your own lore.~
  5. Noah

    Izabal's Waters

    The brisk waters of the sea misted against his face, freezing his long blonde eyelashes together. The stone ports of Izabal were always quiet during these times, when sailors had gone back aboard their ships, and weren't out singing drunken songs of women. It was always a peaceful climate to Kyrk Corinthins, and he liked it just so, but sadly it would come to an end. Two drunken sailors stumbled out of a ship, engaged in a small tussle, seemingly about some petty game. It soon evolved from petty hand gestures that missed one another, to a drunken stupor that caused them to fall over one another, like the blithering idiots they were. "And just when you think you have quiet," He muttered under his breath, seemingly catching a glance from a nearby port guard. But just as their tussle started, they fell flat upon one another, making a smacking sound as they hit the stone. Kryk rolled his eyes, walking away from the scene to not be made responsible. It was a calm sight as he walked along the disorganized rows of houses, cramped against one another, with tents and stalls with vacated produce. The streets were silent, except for the scraping of the guard's boots, just like any other evening in Izabal.
  6. Knight-General Jessa Chayanne the Fourth, Commander of the Grand Order of the Word, gazed down at the sprawling settlement on the plateau beneath her, from a rough-hewn balcony cut from the side of the sheer mountain slope. It didn't look like anything more than a chunk of rock right now, but in time she would be standing on the snout of a bear, looking out over the right shoulder of Gaia. The construction of The Temple of the Holy Word had started off swimmingly, with students of The Discipline blazing through the rough work while the masters lovingly carved the details. But the scale of the project was too large; probably all the Geomancers in the world would have been insufficient to complete it without casualty. Burnout ran rampant through The Order, and craftsmen of a more mundane sort were required to continue. And with craftsmen came the need for housing, and with housing came the need for provisions, and with all of that came the need for gold. And the promise of gold brought more people, who needed more housing, who needed more provisions. Suddenly they were managing a city, and a city needed walls, and walls needed gates to pass through them and guards to stand atop them, and helmets to sit atop the guards and and and and. Even now that the cranes were finally assembled and working, and the forges were firing through the day and night, progress on the Temple had slowed to a pace that might make a glacier feel quite good about itself. But someday, Jessa was sure, she'd be standing on a bear's snout, upon the highest of the council members' private balconies. That was a bit of a coup on her part; she had insisted on the highest suite for the strategic importance of the view, but she would be lying if it didn't give her a tiny sense of superiority over the other sects of The Order. Her long hair, a blonde so fair that it looked silver in the morning light, streamed out behind her in the crisp mountain wind, and she shrugged her thick fur cloak a little closer. The tall woman was used to the slightly warmer (and slightly easier to breathe in) climate of the lower valleys, where the wind was baffled by high slopes; up here, she imagined she could feel every minute of her forty-five years on this world as ice crystals in her bones. She cradled her cup of hot tea to her chest, warming her hands against the ceramic and inhaling the steam. Well into the distance, a black line crawled towards the incomplete city walls, winding down the switchback nicknamed "Cauda Draconis". The latest shipment of uncut rock and iron ore from the highland mines, and right on time, thank Gaia. One more delay and Jessa might have to add something a little stronger to her morning tea. A movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. She shifted her gaze down and slightly to her right, to the balcony which opened into the suite of the Fraternal Order of the Word. That balcony was supposed to be atop the head of a markhor. Two obscene outgrowths of stone flanked platform, and Jessa could hardly wait for them to be transformed into a pair of spiraling horns, which would be at least marginally less phallic than their current state. Jessa's lip curled into a slight sneer of disdain as Hearthmother Iliza strolled across the lower balcony. Iliza was highland born and bred, and evidently considered the climate of this more middling elevation to be downright balmy; the dark-haired woman wore only a bulky fur coat which was open at the front, baring an indecent swath of pale skin to the dawn. The Knight-General wondered, not for the first time, if the Fraternal Order was hiding a fountain of youth somewhere up in those frozen mines; while the two women were the same age, Iliza could but for the years around her eyes pass as an untested maiden. Iliza took a sip from a wine glass and leaned on the half-wall at the edge of the balcony, exposing the curve of the side of her breast. Jessa's lip curled higher. The Hearthmother peered out at the same line of laden wagons that had first drawn Jessa's attention. She studied it for a moment before calling back over her shoulder to an unseen person as yet still in the bedroom. "Up and awake, my dear. The Hearthfather's caravan is approaching; you need get your cohort mounted and ride out to meet him. The Perfected scouts have reported rock trolls in the pass; they haven't come down this far yet but we can't take chances." Jessa was imagining some poor young man or woman, still groggy from a night of light blasphemy, struggling to find his or her riding boots. Her reverie was interrupted by the curt voice of her second-in-command behind her. "Madame General, permission to report!" Iliza looked up from her perch, spotting the Knight-General and favoring her with a crooked smile and a waggly-fingered wave. Jessa, her lips now a tight, thin line, returned the gesture with a terse nod before addressing her subordinate, a broad-shouldered and clean-shaven man in his late twenties. "Granted, Commander." "We've opened up another warren, Ma'am. This one's different. Deeper. The Benevolent on site says... um..." "Out with it, Commander." "He says, and I'm quoting, you understand, 'the mountain spirits are disturbed here'." Jessa sighed. This is what I have to work with. I'm rebuilding Terrenus with babbling lunatics and drunken perverts. Gaia preserve me. "Send a runner to inform the other Orders, and assemble a team. I'll be down myself shortly. Nobody so much as puts a toe over the threshold before I arrive, understood? Dismissed!" "Ma'am, yes Ma'am!" The young Commander snapped off a smart salute and headed off to his task. Jessa gulped down the last of her tea, wondering if maybe she shouldn't have spiked it after all.
  7. 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.
  8. word Saint Duke Evaristus Sicamedes had long since heard of the colossal ruin known as Lanternway from the archaic tomes of the primogenitors that documented the Whispernight's chronicles. Of the many authors and locales that interested him, there was one particular city that resonated with his bladed soul, and that was indeed Lanternway. For years he he anticipated the arrival of the forlorn world so that he may explore its secrets and uncover its truths with his own two hands even despite the fear of his other self becoming a distinct possibility. Some called it a rage that bore all of the disdain humanity had accrued for that which was inhumane, and others argued it was the amalgamation of his ancestors souls who reached into the world around Evaristus through the Sword Saint himself. The truth? As obscure as the man himself. Parchments of vellum had been placed throughout the Cold South, the airship that was Saint George, and Kadia itself. When it was all said and done there weren't many who were willing to embark on a journey that most would consider suicide, but of those who were, he was less shocked and more worried. For his own safety? Absolutely not! However, matters of the heart complicated and sometimes impossible to put into words, had become a stigma that haunted him every hour of the day. Her name was Remmington, she was an angel the likes of which the world could never replicate, a perfect beauty synonymous to the prophet of his dreams that allowed him to walk the dangerous, unprecedented path he had thus far. From the moment he had laid eyes on her he knew she was the one. No, more than that, he saw his very end in her eyes. The end of his passive suffering, the end of his journey beneath the blade, and the end of his very life. It sent a chill up the spine of the sunkissed duke to think about. Was this fear of love? Fear of change? Fear of the end? No, he was simply unworthy. Yet by the graces of Leoa Melinsede and her reallocation of resources throughout the Corvinite Imperium at behest of and likely the guidance of the very king himself, she was assigned to his personal core. Was this fate? Silence swallowed them whole for a time as they reached the gilded city below covered in moss, mana, and mystery. Standing at the southern bay of the Saint George the airship halted and Duke Evaristus turned with a brief glance to observe those who would join him. Remmington, the angel of his future death, and perhaps the scion of prophecy herself. Jackson, the young squire who sought power for vengeance, he who's eyes burned with hatred and despair of his lost familia. Dr. Marigold, a mysterious scientist of whom had a genius level intellect as vast as the enigma surrounding him, and one that he had no choice but to be weary of in lieu of their lackluster meeting. There hadn't been much time for formalities, as soon as Dr. Marigold was on-board they set off towards the land they sought to explore and Evaristus vanished into his chambers to prepare his armaments for their expedition. Silver ceramic plating were his pauldrons down to his greaves and with a quick nod to his fellow allies, his eyes stopped on Remmington for but a second before he disappeared from the open bay and down a few yards. A huge crash followed and the ancient dirt of the sweltering hot ruin kicked up in a hurry. Were the others to follow promptly, The Saint George would then take its leave, prompting to hang-off in the distance until they had returned to their designated starting point near the gate of the dilapidated sauna. "Remember we have one goal here..." he announced to them, treating them all as equals, the same as any true leader would...or tried to. "Investigate the ruin, retrieve any artifacts that we can and bring them back to the Emperor. Anything we see, dialects of language, prehistoric lore, needs to be documented. I assume that will be left to you Doctor. Any questions?" If they did he prayed they kept them short and sweet. He could feel the mysticism lingering in the air...at any moment they would find themselves entombed by this city of dangerous secrets. It was best that they tread carefully. @Aleksei@danzilla3@FirePenguinDiscoPanda
  9. Red the Ambivalent

    Unbroken Seals

    It was no secret on the wind that the Carmine Empire wasn't inherently pleased with the way that Port Caelum had been born within Genesaris. The day that the once Baroness of Predators Keep was to be crowned Queen, and the Void Kitsune was to be crowned Regent had been a drastic disaster when the Regent Kitsune had disappeared in the middle of the Festival. The event had left the new Queen alone on the dais, worried and confused over her friend-and lover had gone too. Akako wasn't the type to flee from power nor fright, and the already frail minded psion had panicked rather than leapt into action as she should have. Constantly struck with loss and loneliness, her instincts had been misplaced in believing the other woman had simply ran from the world in order to be rid of the blonde haired psion. Not days after the Festival and her return to Terrenus, distraught and struck with such profound quiet the Queen had made another mistake; She'd tried to take her own life so she could finally be free of the terrible burdens of the life she had chosen. Fate had played a dirty hand that day, and a silver haired elf had saved her from the release she'd so yearned for since Akako's disappearance. Even after it had taken weeks, a month or so more before the Queen felt she had the strength to venture into a realm unknown to try to bring the kitsune back from the dead. The knowledge founded in the afterlife of Akako being murdered and her bound by blood ability to bring back to life the soul still stranded in the shadow realm had been the breath she had needed to break free of the bonds of sorrow and pity. Born again, so to speak, Red Yusuke tore open a veil to the shadow realm and would return with the newly revived Kitsune, at the cost of strength lost in the process. That was only the day prior, even with her best friend in the world of the living once more, Red was alone in the Port City. The investigation of Akako's death had pointed fingers in her direction, yelling falsities of her ability as a ruler in the new city on foreign land. Although enraged by the accusations, the psion knew there was some truth to them, but had been hard-pressed to claim the truths- yet. It had been a rocky start, but she had done some good in appointing the Viceroy, Xartia Pendragon to replace the once slain Regent. He was capable, and one of the last few souls she could truly trust to walk these streets beneath her banner. She knew this because he was not here, he was in Orisia where the Black Queen had reclaimed her throne and was hosting a coronation event so everyone could congratulate her return. Although odd to think of, his escorting Akako to the direct source of political intrigue in order to flaunt the fact that Akako was not indeed dead, but alive and well in an attempt to lift the fingers pointing at his Queen had been admirable. He was the loyalty she needed, and as it seemed he was the only one that could hold a steady ruling seat beneath her crown. Akako could not be faulted for what had happened to her, but there was no doubt a threat to her life by the ones responsible for her gruesome murder. It wasn't possible within her heart to appoint the kitsune to the throne, to put her as the face of Caelum where she could be a target by her daughter and daughters husband. Being at the coronation was fearsome enough to Red, but that was where Xartia came into play, to keep her safe with the likely threat of Koji or Kimi being present. The word would spread like a wildfire of Red being responsible for her revival, although it would take some time before such a time, which meant that the Queen was safe for now. Caelum might not be the most safe place to be seen, but fearing the Carmine Empire would only make her look pathetic and weak. If they had questions, it was likely her solitude would be interrupted, Red was even counting on it. Sitting on her thumbs while Xartia and Akako worked to clear her name wasn't how she wanted to be known, and hiding her face in the estate of the Viceroy while she awaited their return wasn't in her nature. Dark red fabric flowed out behind her while her boots carried her through the streets. The thick cape did little to hide the slender figure beneath, only so much as covering her bare shoulders from the winter chill and flurries of snow that tried to threaten the port with more snow. Red bravely dawned a gown of black with a slit up the front, simple yet elegantly clinging to her curves that she hadn't felt the need to hide beneath the cloak. She hadn't been an open face to the public of Caelum prior to the festival, and she'd been gone long enough and had put a face on the throne in her stead; Nobody recognized her as the Queen. Nobility was the most some people thought of as she walked along the streets, the way she held herself straight and tall with confidence radiating nearly from her pores. But their Queen? Not a person around would have thought that Red would be out in public without an escort, especially with rumors of threat from the Carmine Empire, which were laughable. Rumors among the middle and lower classes often ran rampant so there was no surprise her ears had picked up on the words of threat and disaster imminent. Inside one of the many pockets beneath the cloak was a small, rolled parchment with a red wax seal of a gryphon sitting proud in front of a shield and crossed swords rest unbroken. In her hand a letter had been written, one that was either going to travel to Umbra by way of carrier or end up in the hand of an official for the Empire, if there were any within the city limits. Xartia handled the official business, and nobody within his estate had any knowledge of any officials still here after he had assisted them with their investigation of Akako's disappearance. By chance any were around, Red would personally hand them her report and apology for the untimely events during the Festival, and thereafter. For now though, the Queen was simply on a stroll heading for the food district, curious over what local cuisine had set up shop in her city.
  10. Bydo Terrarum DAICHON does not get out much. She stares out into the world from her 3-rd story bedroom window, spacing out at times. She really did not have many friends, save for the ones that tried to come by and get her to come out of her house, for which she rarely did. Her Seaweed Green eyes then turned away from the window and onto the bottle of Ambrosia that her father bought her; she did not have many concerns while at home. Her mother often worked through the night, just having enough time to come home to make dinner and then leave back out. This enraged Bydo much, but she knew that her mother's career was something that she could not protest about. She herself was in High School; a third year to be exact. Her grades were top-notch, but she did not go to any award ceremonies to Honor her performance and dedication. As she poured herself a hefty portion of the alcohol, she then thought about her classes; top grades and yet she did not feel like celebrating. Her little sister Yvonne, aged 13, waltzed into her room, now closing the door behind her. She had a tray of Chicken-Cheese Crepes, along with her own personal flask of Ambrosia. Their father often rested on the weekdays; he worked overnight and seemed pretty exhausted at times, though he had to make errands today to pay a few bills and to meet with the Council On Elder Matters, and that in itself deemed to be very tedious with the construction of the Geostratum coming in the future months. Would Xylex and the others be READY to embark on such n important assignment of re-building their lives? "I brought you something to nibble on dear sister. You cannot stay in your room all day not eat a single bite of food you know. Mother will be very worried about this matter." Said the 13-year old. Bydo giggled, then chugged back the large Goblet of Ambrosia, shifting her head to point over to her night stand for her sister to put the food onto.
  11. DoomSparkles

    K-Drama: Cyberpunk edition

    The day was cold. Flurries of snow filled the air and fell down on the electrical city below, trickling down into the neon lights that flooded everyone's vision. The town was crowded, despite the cold weather, with people bundled in their coats and scarves pulled up to their noses shuffling their way to their destinations. The bustle wasn't an extremely loud one, but it was what one would expect for a city this size. Though through the city's vast labyrinth, there sat a boy in a wheelchair. He was bundled up with his scarf pulled up to his ears and struggled to push himself along up a multi-leveled ramp. Puffs of smoke billowed from under his scarf as he finally reached the top, covered now in a coat of sweat. He took a moment to catch his breath before pushing himself to the door of the complex. He dug around inside his coat pocket before pulling out a card and touching it to the sensor, unlocking the set of doors. He sniffled from the cold and stuffed away the card before sluggishly heading in. The wheels slid inside of the room, the doors slowly creeping closed behind him automatically. He shivered from the cold, rubbing his arms in attempts to warm himself. Once sufficiently warmed, he pulled down his scarf to show his urban breathing mask. His appearance was much more clear under the white lights of the college dormitory. He had messy, black hair that was littered with a layer of white snow and blueish-green orbs. His ethnicity seemed Asian: more specifically, Korean. He brushed the snow from his hair and rubbed his hands together, warming his freezing fingers. He seemed young, in his 20's perhaps, but still had a youthful look about him with his somewhat large ears and smooth, pale skin. He should really be getting to his dorm... He would need to study for his exams and start dinner for his brother. With a deep breath, the male gathered his strength and headed down the corridor towards the moving walkways. The windows here extended high over his head. It reminded him of the hospitals...hanging high over the city in their tall white buildings. He studied the city with its hologram advertisements and neon lights. This was nothing but a typical day...but he enjoyed looking out on the city from the glass windows. There was something about it that made him think of jellyfish in a tank. The walkway ended and his chair rolled off the belt and into the main lobby where he found the elevators. He hated how far away his dorm was from his classes. He missed how his brother used to teach him at home. Though it wasn't as though he and his brother could complain; they were going to school for free after all. A little inconvenience was to be expected he supposed. He pushed the button for the upper level and waited for the room to come down the glass tube. He had to admit, these facilities were pretty advanced and nicely kept. Much better than the apartments his brother and he came from. The big city was a change too, but he was slowly getting used to it. The elevator made a soft ding, and the doors slowly opened. Wheeling inside, he pushed his desired floor and watched the doors slowly close. Turning towards the glass wall, he gazed out onto the city again. His brother was in that far building... He said he had to go in for a few more tests, something about scanning over his optic nerves worked...Or was it the nerves in his brain? He could never get it right...His brother was always the one who understood all the biology and medical terms they slung around. But said he would be home in time for dinner. He always made it home for dinner somehow. A smile softly crept to his lips as he remembered how his brother would come into the room, panting and out of breath from whatever silly errands he had to do that day. His blue eyes tired and blond hair all in a mess, but once he was home, that goofy smile spread on his lips. He would laugh, rubbing the back of his head with some excuse of how he ditched early to come home, or how he "got done testing early". No matter what had happened that day, he always felt better when his brother came home. The doors opened and he snapped back from his thoughts. He rolled himself inside of the halls and in front of his dorm room. His hand dug into his jacket for his key card...but his hand came back empty. Fear gripped his chest. Did he...? Did he drop it? He swore he just had it. It had his picture on it with a chip inside meant to open his door easier. His brother was the only other one who had a key. He couldn't bother him with anything more... He had dropped his whole life for him. Besides, he checked his phone. 16:07. His brother wouldn't be back for a few hours. The male ran his small, stubby fingers through his hair and groaned. Perhaps he had left it in the hallway...? Or it had fallen out on his way through the doors. @Skyscraper
  12. Haelikor

    WAR!!!!

    War. War has forever changed. After Haelikor crowned himself the board leader of the One Line RP Board Supernal created while presumably intoxicated (both Haelikor and Supernal respectively), Hael began to do many cool things. Photoshop stuff. Create tanks. Or something? Well anywho, everything is on fire now. And war has happened. It's not very good - unless you desire war, then it is pretty good. Inordinately good even. Meanwhile, on YouTube, there was drama or something? So Andy Warski, a YouTube content creator, was struck with Meme Magic and transformed into Adam Racewarski - an extreme terrorist hellbent on killing all staff of the card game Magic the Gathering. He as well also began to kill the people and light things on fire. But not for long. You (and several hundred other people but don't worry you're special) are parachuted into the- the capital of One Line RP which I guess is now LA? As you land, you're greeted by the helper robot which helps you know stuff. "Beep boop or some shit. Fuck you! I am your slave robot. I am designated as ... Tacos & Burritos. I don't know why. I'm here to help you select your class. Don't attack me or I'll grind you into bacon bits to further augment my burrito capacitor. Those are metaphors." Alright! You get to select your CLASS! CLASS OPTION A :: MAGIC SWORDSMAN Your advantage is you are really good with swords, and the swords can poop magic. Any kind of magic. Planar manipulation, time control. You name it! Your disadvantage is that you have to wear at least 98 belts, and no less than 7 of them have to constrict the blood flow to your groin. So much so, you're dying. You can use your magic to ease the process but nothing you can do can remove those belts; even becoming incorporeal will constrict your (wiener)(clam)(ambiguous). So to avoid dying, you have to sleep for 23 out of the 24 hours in a day. If someone finds you while you're sleeping, they can tighten the belts one rung more, killing you instantly. CLASS OPTION B :: CONSTRUCTION WORKER Your advantage is you're buff and strong from years of manual labor, so you have super strength and can suplex skyscrapers. The downside is you don't have a lifetime of debt from going to college for 12 years, so you're illiterate and you can't tie your shoelaces but feel compelled to still wear shoes with strings on them, causing a 50% chance to trip over yourself anywhere you go. CLASS OPTION C :: COMPUTER HACKER You're smart. Your parents told you so. You're so smart, you can hack anything kid - you can whip out your USB keyboard with overclocked RAM and 5x DPI to access the mainframe of street signs, change the CSS of the sidewalk, or even backtrace the database of your foes. However, such intellect does come with a price. You have cancer. That's unfortunate. CLASS OPTION D :: HARASSER You are a vile scum, a true rogue of the town. You can lock onto one target(victim) and begin lobbing verbal abuse at them, debuffing them immensely. However, you can only focus on one person at a time for this effect, making you strong at solo PVP but weak at group PVP; as well also, you have to carry a Waifu Body Pillow (waifu of your choice) at all times. If your Waifu Body Pillow is destroyed, you must pray to your waifu for 24 hours to be redeemed, or forever be a BANNED HARASSER. That's not all. There are more classes that will be added with the expansion packs. Some will require unlocking. Watch out! "buh hael what about multi-classing?" You are allowed to multi-class. However, you must pick an initial class, then go through town until you find THE SEWER OF MULTI-CLASSING. There, you must cut off one of your limbs. This removal of said limb is both permanent and magically disables gaining any more limbs (I'm looking at you, Magic Swordsmen!); you may do this for as many class options and as many limbs as you have available. ...however... you didn't think it ended just there did you? Oh you foolish little person of ambiguous sex you! "Zip bobba beep bop. Uh. Select your... race I guess? Or something? I guess you were too fucking stupid to know what it was until now but now you do. Good on you." [CURRENT BASE GAME RACES] [[HUMAN]] ADVANTAGES - To represent the versatility of your kind, you ignore the limb penalty for one multi-class option! DISADVANTAGES - You suck ass. [[ORC]] ADVANTAGES - You're green. As well also, to represent the virility of your race, you can ignore the drawback of your first class. DISADVANTAGES - There are no elves for you to fornicate with. Deprived of a sense of purpose, your character is depressed. You must always give brooding edge-lord statements. [[ANDROID]] ADVANTAGES - Your base stats are very high. You're faster, stronger, smarter. DISADVANTAGES - You don't have a penis. Even if female - you don't have a penis. As well also, you are exceptionally vulnerable to Computer Hackers. [[CHARLES BARKLEY]] ADVANTAGES - You have a godlike gift for the game of b-ball. You can run very fast, and you can dunk on fools no problem. DISADVANTAGES - You are not a role model. This lack of charisma makes people supernaturally compelled to be hostile towards you, even if they normally wouldn't be. MORE RACES COMING IN THE NEXT EXPANSION, "Heaven's Block IV." Begin!
  13. Scene Opens: Scene shifts to open rooftop, where a melodramatic, middle aged, white dude is standing on the fringe between life and death.
  14. The castle was perched upon the clouds, staring down onto the pine tress below. It was the object of curiosity, holding some sort of important artifact. One man was searching for passage to the skies, and stopped at a little tavern to search for a pilot. He ordered a drink as he sat down, and searched the room.
  15. Last Magician

    The Lunarium Lecture Series

    It couldn't have been said when the tower had shown up- just that it was there in the morning. It had the patina of age, a sense of decay and organic growth that suggested it was quite ancient and perhaps grown from some manner of acorn that created parapets and stairways instead of branches. All in all, it was either genuinely as it appeared, or at least, an artful forgery. To be expected considering who would be hosted. There were so many winding passageways, some sheer climbs at times as a stairway had become rubble and simple silken cord had been wound together to make a rope ladder. Regardless of how you entered, and what path at what fork you took, there were no dead-ends here- it all ended... in a proscenium. There were Coliseum seats arching around it, and a few worn columns about, but otherwise, the stage was truly above them- the moon, looking far larger than it should and the ceiling to their little venture, a pure dollop of cream in the heavenly teacup, the night swirling liquor all around it. There was a fainting chair set in the center of the stage, lounging on it, a strange figure, resting beneath their tall pointed straw hat, draped in a dark blue cloth, the round yellow brim sitting in the center just like the moon above. There was clearly a figure underneath, faintly snoring. There was a side table adjoining the chair, an ornate calabash set in a rocker, gently smoldering. A bottle of absinthe had been set alongside, it clear by the spoon drifting in the dirty glass that this had already been used. Stacked on the ground beside was a hefty bottle of laudanum, embalming fluid, something detailed as just "Elixir", and a large carboy filled with liquid mercury. The strangest thing was the note- on the back, written in blood, "You're cordially invited....." On the front, the card had been lacquered, a pearlescent coating drawing over a field of azure, an ink rich in golden fillagree just specifying this time, this date, and this place. "The Show Shall Begin once The Great Bell rings Thrice."
  16. Esben sighed as he stood there. The slum streets were not a place for the young elf. But it would do because he didn't bring a lot of money. His fine silks were wrinkled and a mess due to the run ins with people he tried to make slaves and failed at. He shook his head as he had been holed up here for a week now. He had managed to charm his way onto the ship but after that, it was hard to charm a way into a nice looking place. Weland seemed to be a tougher place it seemed. It was here Esben's stomach growled. He was hungry. But what could his little pocket money catch? Making his way onto the street, he placed his hands into his coat pockets. He wondered whom would fall into his spider's web? He didn't know but he would perform the best show in the land. It would be grand.
  17. Pasion Pasiva

    -=Walking in a Winter Wonderland=-

    It had been some time since she last spoke to Wayne, and frankly she was very surprised that the short, stocky man was still in Orisia. Nevertheless, he made certain to present himself just as soon as the coronation was announced and to offer his full range of services to the Black Queen. The merit of his work did not need to be tested, nor did his loyalty -- Gabriela knew that Wayne was a simple man. He would always remain in the castle, working under whatever monarch happened to be ruling so long as the pay was generous and his creativity remained relatively unrestricted. From the beginning, he had been in charge of bringing to life her most fantastical ideas for celebrations, and while this particular occasion promised to be somewhat more somber, he was no less excited to be working with his Queen once again. “I know you said subtle -- but with a theme like Winter Wonderland -- well, there’s only so much subtlety you can expect, Darling Queen.” Gabriela stood amidst a sea of flowers. They were in every shape and size. Massive bouquets that were artfully arranged in giant crystal vases that somehow appeared to be frosted, as if a deep chill were cooling the clear waters within. All the flowers were white, and the stems and leaves and drooping vines had been somehow coated in silver. The arrangements were stunning, and there were hundreds of them. Most sat at the center of large, white-leather, banquette sofas. This was the only seating she could see, there were no solitary chairs or tables located anywhere. The rest of the vases sat on stone columns that had been artfully arranged all around the throne room in varying heights and widths. Her throne room could be described as having three parts. The main doors that lead within opened directly into the center part, and therefore main part of the throne room. A wide open rectangular space, surrounded on both sides by curving arches and thick columns that make the black throne upon a black dais the focal point for anyone entering. To either side of this main area are wings of equal dimensions, large gallery sized spaces where the sofas and the majority of the flower arrangements had been placed. The ceilings here were notably shorter than that located in the center, where the throne resides, and from them hang dozen of chandeliers, all of which have been decorated with crystal snowflakes -- all in different sizes -- that hang from silver threads. “Excuse us,” said a team of men who were carrying in huge bundles of long black sticks. “What in the world are those for…” Gabriela asked, as she watched the men file into the throne room, one after the other, until nearly twenty of them had passed. Each was hard at work wrapping a thick layer of the bound, black sticks around each of her beautiful marble columns. “We’re stringing them with pearls and lights! So it feels like we’re outside...It will look beautiful when the floor gets covered in fresh snow.” “Fresh snow?” she felt jaw begin to clench, and had to struggle to maintain her composure. “You’re going to fill my throne room with fresh snow?” “We’ve coated the floors with a sealant. There won’t be any damage, and it will give everything such an air of fanciful fancy!” Wayne replied as he clutched his clipboard to his chest, beaming brightly at the queen. “Just think of it! Snow will be falling over your guests without the discomfort of cold and without a single gray cloud to do away with the warm glow of the chandeliers! It will be absolutely stunning.” His utter excitement and commitment to the vision he had come up with was far too endearing, and so Gabriela felt her annoyance slowly melt away, leaving her with nothing more than an awful sense of impotence. Of course she should have known that this would happen. Inviting Wayne into this project all but guaranteed that her small and quiet event would end up turning into some circus of pomp and glamour. She might as well have led a parade through the burning streets of Orisia… “I have to get ready,” she said as a way to excuse herself before she saw anymore. “Oh, but please, Darling Queen, tell me you love it before you go. You’ll break my heart if you leave with such a sour look upon your face. Tell me you at least like it. Think of the children! They’ve never seen snow in the capital, and now, for one night -- they’ll get to run about it and play in it. There will be sweets and hot cocoa for them. We’re going to put up charming snowmen, all done up in soft scarves, bow ties, and top hats! You wanted a winter wonderland and I am giving it to you.” How could such a simple man do away with the heavy weight of her pride. She stood there despondent for a moment, looking at him as if she were willing and able to call him out on his emotional manipulation, but then she had a thought -- more like mental image. She saw people, she saw hundreds of them, she saw them happy as they stepped in and felt snow crunch under their feet. That was such a wonderful feeling. She thought of boys and girls gathering handfuls of snow and throwing them. The somber occasion would turn joyous, surely… And this wasn’t for her, it was never for her, she didn’t care about a crown being set on her head. This was for them. “I do like it Wayne -- as always, your creativity does not disappoint.” A boastful smile spread across the man’s face. His dark eyes were pretty jewels at the center of his pudgy features. He wasn’t a necessarily handsome man, but in that moment, he was certainly quite lovely. “Go on then, make yourself presentable, Darling Queen, and return to us quickly. The party starts in a few hours.” “I’ll make sure to make my entrance when everything is in full swing.” ~*~ There was a rather large gathering of people waiting for the gates to open. These were the commoners of Orisia, which against the disparaging odds had decided to come out to celebrate the re-coronation of the queen they had once known and loved. With Lucis’ coronation, they hadn’t been invited, and the castle gates had been kept closed since word spread that the Queen had died. Most of them, oddly enough, just wanted to see if Gabriela was really Gabriela, since most of them actually remembered her from the many events that had been opened to them in the past. They were all dressed in their best, which did not mean that it amounted to much for all, but it didn’t matter. Although the snow that was falling within the throne room was magical, and the temperature regulated, there were some aspects of the occurrence that Gabriela did not want to change. She wanted the snow to be cold, she wanted it to feel cold, to melt against human warmth. On a whim, hundreds of beautifully knitted white scarves and gloves had been produced, and were given away to each and every guest as they finally allowed into the castle. Of course there was a seperate entrance, one that simply had to show reverence for those guests of high importance -- political and such. Although they would be rubbing elbows with commonors tonight, they were still entitled to a certain type of treatment, which included access to private areas that were simply roped off to the general public. Dignitaries, politicians, affluent members of society -- they would be waited on by a private collection of serving staff, to ensure that they never went too long without a drink or hors d'oeuvres. Keeping them fat and drunk seemed to be the best policy when dealing with people that needed to be won back. The throne room began to fill with people. Most were curious about the throne itself and quickly made their way towards it, sharing stories about how the Black Queen herself had carried the massive thing into the castle when she first took the throne. It a story not many believed, being that Gabriela had since then done much and more to try and pass off as human as possible. However, since the introduction of a whole vampyre society thanks to Raphael, more and more people had witness the many astounding attributes of that strange and beautiful race of creatures. The Black Throne was surrounded by four knights, all clad in black armor. They stood each corner of the dais and made sure that no one tried to get too familiar with the structure. They would end up spending the duration of the celebration there, while the Queen sat and watched the party. For now though, they appeared a bit more lax. They even answered questions when asked by curious visitors. It wasn’t until the room was quite full that the snow began to fall. No one had really understood why they had been given scarves and mittens. But it was the delight-filled squeal of a single child that gave away the beginnings of the real celebration. For it was this one child who had been admiring a chandelier when out of nowhere they saw a white speck of dust, which came floating down -- growing and growing -- until it landed right on his nose. It was cold and crisp, but it melted away the moment he tried to touch it with his warm fingertip. “Snow! It’s snowing! It’s snowing!”
  18. christians168

    Looking to join or start a D&D group

    So it's been three years since i've last played D&D and I really want to hop back into this experience. I've only played a few times, but i thoroughly enjoyed it and was looking to join or start a D&D group. I've never done the Dungeon Master role before, but if need be i'd be willing to give it a try since i've got the starter set and stuff.
  19. The Bone King

    Challenge to not-desolate

    A short brown-haired man with almond-shaped brown eyes wearing a knee-length white cape, an extra-extra-large white tee-shirt, baggy blue trousers, white sneakers with black stripes and hand and finger accessory athletic tape walked on-to the dirt floor of a Coliseum located some-where on Gaia. His name: Clash Fa! Clash weighed one hundred sixty-four pounds and had a body five feet eight and a quarter inches long. The Coliseum towered five stories in-to the sky. Its stone bleachers were filled with hooting and hollering fans eager for the blood-shed to start. Clash smiled bravely. He turned a-bout, waving to the people in the audience. Then, he clasped the fingers of his right hand over his left wrist and patiently awaited the arrival of his adversary.
  20. Dradiro

    The Hermit, rekindle the flame?

    Dradiro had been somewhat forced to flee his home just outside of Osiria’s capital, war had broken out. He for one didn’t feel the real need to serve either side so he fled. Holding no real alliegence he headed to Izabal, still staying towards the outskirts. He had found a home close to the mountains, no real neighbors to speak of, Perfect. It took him awhile to settle in, luckily three of his servants came with him. The witch in particular he favored, though he wasn’t unneccesarily rude and hateful to the other two males. There was a basement, two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, kitchen and living area. Barely enough space for his books, but those enchanted bags his witch made were quite useful, it was her blood he sought the most though over her skills. There was a small area in their back yard they had made small training area, “Never know when your life will be threatened and you won’t have back up.” The Umbramancer would say, this once human made vampire sacrificed, essentially to the darkness by his master. Wasn’t that horrible though, they did have 2 other companions, one was perfectly fine with it’s life the other though. “Ya know that’s a little hypocritical you to say right?” This feminine voice echoed behind him. “Cerena’s right ya know, you and her are literally attached and you’d never leave Astra anywhere. Not to mention you say her name and she comes flying.” Dradiro glanced back to see Cerena and Alexa behind him looking at him. They had a point though, “That’s why I insist on training the three of you who aren’t so fortunate to be in my shoes.” He huffed. Cerena nodded, “Ok yeah he does have a point there,” She said but still pointed a shadowy finger at him. “Stop being in dad mode all the time though. You’re so stressed lately.” She had a point, they had only been here a couple months and word had made it that there was war in Versilla. “They need to know how to protect themselves, all of them. Alexa is a witch but what about Trevin and Asher? They’re human but can hold their own with a sword thanks to me.” The demon in his shadow slipped back to where she came then climbed up and around him taking the form of his usual duster, just a mild shade of gray. ‘The brat and the witch have a point Dra, you’ve even been pushing yourself. You’ve not fed in weeks, and yet you are out here pushing yourself just as much as you are either of them. You need to rest’.’ Astra interrupted telepathically to all of them, the sword laying against his hip as always. Cerena let that slide while Alexa giggled, “He refuses when I offer.” The witch spoke up, the men were off reading waiting their turn to train if they wanted. “I’m fine.” Dradiro said grumpily.
  21. Armada

    The next line

    OOC: You decide the next sentence. Keep it simple, clean, and fun. “I do see.” He exclaimed, fingers trembling around the whiskey cup. “But why?”
  22. Pickled

    The Castle (A Castle Above)

    A small castle, about 12,000 meters above the Great Pine Barrens. It was recently sent on its voyage to the sky. It has no inhabitants, but it is rumored to have a great treasure inside. It has a large wall around its sides, and is a interesting article. It is floating using an unknown magic.
  23. The ground was soiled with blood. The sword clashed and crumbled to the ground. The clock ticking off with a haunting chime. The ground seeped in blood and hate. The cursing of a land from the death of it's first leader, Absolon. Spitting on his grave with such venom, not even the sins could be forgotten. It should such chaos and broken hearts. Curses and magi that tore at the soul, at the mind and especially the heart. Absolon was the broken capital. The bones of the downtrodden laid upon each step that led up to the castle. A castle built on the bones of the past. The cobblestone streets showed a battle that didn't last. The hero falling down upon the ground as the villain smiled that shark smile. Yet, more would come. More wanted to save such a doomed land. The war was coming. Built on blood and revenge. Tearing their hopes and dreams asunder. The Umbral year was upon them. And the crushed crown laid upon the seas of blood. No one would survive the terror that was coming, rebuilt by a chance encounter. But, the heroes would try. The resistance wasn't dead. Only laying low so the princess wouldn't get wind of them. They were plotting a plan to get back things to normal. But normal wouldn't come so easily. However, the seeds of evil were getting stronger, more turned each day. Either into dead demons of magi and power or ore creatures. And the princess was lost to the darkness that reigned her heart. The islands had lost their key advantages against her, the temple and Kogal. But word spread that a new temple was being built. Sadly that didn't happen. The quest before you is to locate the underdepths of Ebony-Yahera and find a way to destroy the artifacts that live there. Beware, as they will try to sway you to their side and corrupt you. Also, if you under take this, make sure it's someone you won't mind losing if that comes to be. Can you put a dent into the darkness and help try to get the heroes more power to try and stop the war coming?
  24. The town known as only 'Magitech community town' is what the place is called, in the empire of Lexdord. Various cars quietly roamed about though the streets passing the great halls of the town (though small in territory size the building were taller then sky scrapers) sitting as the grand education center for all...except vampires, vampires are the only creatures truly hated by the people and government alike. Free admission was set for a lottery celebrating the 89th anniversary of the town, although free you can only join once per yearthen you ether wait until next year or pay the hefty fee to enter. "Only 60 people will be chosen to enter for free." Said the grand master of the town (basicly mayor) "now put your hand into the electronical booths, it will give you a ticket with a number on it now let us begin!" The first numbers were "43378" a Naga slithered inside "33390" A gargoyle flew to the door "44785" A man in a top hat walked inside "58953" A dragon girl aged 14 silently marched indoors...
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