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  1. Study this house, Roen said in his silent voice. Study its doors, its rooms, its patterns. The castle will perish as will the tower I built in far-off Terrenus, but this house will last to serve its purpose. He went down the stairs, and walked around the house slowly, in and around, laying a hand upon its doorframes and its brass knobs and musing at the paintings in the dining room and the lovely plaster ornament that everywhere decorated its ceilings, while cradling his young son. Yes, a beautiful house, the Outsider thought. He went out into the gardens. He perceived what had been done - what he had done [/i] - a great octagon of a lawn, with an octagon carved in the stone posts that ended the limestone balustrades. And everywhere flagstones at angles, so that one was beset in the moonlight with lines and designs and patterns. “Look at the roses in the iron,” said Roen to his son. By this he meant the cast-iron railings. And Philippe looked with his bright green eyes, lines at the angles, echoing the angles of the flags, as well as the roses. They moved on together, father and son. The polyglot house, the beautiful villa with its cast-rion lace and Corinthian columns and Doric and Ionic columns, and the keyhole doorways. An immense swimming pool had been built to the rear of the lawn, and a cabana was built to the south side of the pool so that guests could shower and dress without going into the house. He walked passed the curved Italianate windows on the north side beneath fifteen-foot ceilings, a great trap for light and cool breezes, a citadel against the heat of Orisian summers. Remember these things, Roen thought to his son. For this house will last. It was not only for Philippe’s benefit that the Outsider wandered this home, their home, but for his own, too. Remember this place if you would linger or come back; remember its patterns. In the dim world beyond they will shine in your eyes, they will guide you home. This is a house for centuries to come. This is a house worthy of the spirits of the dead; this is a house in which you may safely remain. War or revolution or fire, or the river’s current, will not trouble you. He paused, tilting his head, his dark eyes roaming. “I was held once.. by two patterns. Two simple patterns. A circle, and stones in the form of a cross. Two patterns..,” he trailed off, his eyes distant, his memory far away. Philippe fidgeted, and Roen was drawn away from his reverie. The house, the house; the villa Roen had purchased and refurbished, spending a fortune on new paint, plaster, draperies, and delicate expensive furniture in the art deco style. The double parlor was crowded with potted palms, giving off an clean, earthy scent. A Bozendorfer grand piano had been acquired, though its lineage - and importance - was known only to the Outsider. He had done all that he could to make it a comfortable place to live, not only escape to. In many ways, it reminded him of his villa in the Black City, now long since gone. It was refuge and home in a place he spent more time being, bar none. Taking Philippe to his crib, Roen laid the boy down and breathed out a contented sigh, leaning against the edge. It was a strong house, a sturdy one, built in the southern districts of the capital near the waterfront. A modest estate nearly an acre in size, it was private enough to ensure some semblance of quiet, but had neighbors on either side of it that reminded all involved it was not nearly a remote locale. And Roen loved it, suffice to say. Most important, he loved it. Though pride and assertion said the castle was his home, though many would say the Black City and the Lore-Spire were his haunts, this place, this manor and these gardens, they were his to own and his to cherish, and so he did. This would be his home, his and Philippe’s, and Irene, too. The family home. Tucking Philippe in with one of his favorite toys - a stuffed animal, a blue elephant - Roen leaned away and turned, looking around, breathing in the cleanliness of his home, the freshness. He had shown it to Gabriela, of course. When it was empty, before he had refurbished it. But it was now, only recently, that it was fit for living. Leaving instructions at the castle that she could find him at his - their - private residence, after spending untold hours waiting for her return, Roen found himself wandering the tidy hallways of the manor, and eventually found his way to the kitchen, with its center marble island loaded with fruits. He sat on it and leaned back, and relaxed on his haunches as the cool, autumn breeze filtered in through the windows, bringing with it the scent of jasmine in from the gardens. A quiet night, a simple one, and one which he indulged in fully. He should have been working, the devil. He should have been preparing things for the Black City, for the Summer Isles, or even his interests beyond. But he wasn’t, at least not yet. He was content to sit, and wait for Irene to return, so that they could plan together, or at least plan with a semblance of her input.
  2. The island of Amalia, isolated from the rest of time for so meny years life forms thought to have gone extinct during the early days of civilisation live and some still thrive to this very day. The fact that this island had an existing hive mind or semi-hive was of great intrest to Lexdord. Although one might find it strange that Lexdord wasnt interested in the others that had been discovered like in taen. The answer to that would be simple...you see these were one of the less hostile hive minds that have gone around, not to mention they were quite underdeveloped in terms of economical efficiency their technology however was quite equivalent to most civilisations heading straight foward into the information age. ----On the Airship "This place is perfect for beginging our corporation!" Segi had screamed excitedly. The rest of the crew nodded as the airship began to land lightly on the beach of Amalia, upon looking he saw quiet untamed mountain like wilderness yet behind it he saw the life of a settlement. "Look there it is, now begin setting up advertisements....we'll need all we can get"
  3. (OOC note that this takes place a couple of months before hand, which was when it was originally supost to be made) "There are places to be and things to do, everyone has a job, there is work to be had and people acquired, everybody has a purpose, there are lands to defends and land to leave, there are people to save and people to leave. The choice of fate lay in those with the power to do so. Yet to those that lay powerless there choice is determined by fate" It had been over an hour since the sun came up and what a cold morning it was. Dispite it regularly being hot and arid in the kingdom of Lexdord however it did happen at Certain times of the year. The wasteland plains that streched for tens or even a couple hundred miles beyond the city limits would look discuraging for those who weren't used to it. Yet to those who were recalled it as a normal thing, to some it even appeared to be a sanctuary as there were really no real wild dangerous monsters going about or any of the troubles that come from other lands, empires or nations. Particularly Lexdord was a very safe place to be in or at the most safer then most. Yet there was that famine problem, and having nothing but wasteland to cultivate didnt really help the situation which was trying to solve itself. The goverment had looked over diffrent lands, they would seek a colony in the north dedicated to just farms but they realised that they didn't have enough man power to create one that would remain stable for long. It take long though, they had a plan to put into action. What was this grand plan? To go into the lands of Alterion and begin advertising their sanctuary as a prime location to be in saying that future generations would be in safe stable hands "Dont you want your child to see the world not as a playground of just bloodshed and suffering?, dont you want to look at your children and not have to tell them that death is near?..... Lexdord where the future is protected and cared for" Was the voice of a female projecting off of an ad Air ships which included 3 transports a battleship and a Pincer class ship (A class which are able to exceed extraordinary speeds but however only have few point defence guns as their weapon) lead by Commander Titian were soon enforced to collect those willing to leave a land of sufferings and enter a land of peace and security And Work.. "Report?" She asked the computer -Status of weather conditions are recovering it is safe to travel through now- it had displayed "Para warp report?" -Ready to launch- "Set a course for Alterion smake in the middle of the primitive lands! And extend the field to the rest of this fleet" -Affirmative activating Para drive protocols and informing crew with 30 second delay- The humming of the Para could be heard in pulses, at the same time the area aroubd the airship and the airships following began to wrap and become increasingly distorted as the Para's electronics were bending literal reality just to reach its destination. -30%....42%- Not a suprise that it take awhile for it to engage but it was taking its time -67%..................89%- The crew began to get into seats -93%.........100% 30 second delay active- The crews from the other 5 ships were preparing as the synchronized countdown continued -10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...Engage They suddenly saw the land melt away as colors blended together, this didn't last long though as soon within under a couple of minutes the colors around reconfigured themselves to reveal the lands. "The first of meny to soon have them travel to Lexdord"
  4. Cothmas was always my favorite time of year. Something about the cold and the snow made everyone get a little closer. I don't know, it always felt that way to me. I loved playing with the snakes when I was a boy, I'd laugh when they'd roll around the living room with me, or play fight me with their fangs still retracted. As the night drew on, just before they'd vanish back to god, my parents and my grandfather and I would just sit with the snakes for a while in front of the tree, with all its many colored fires, and eat our Cothmas candy and just be for a few minutes. Be together. Be at peace. I didn't mind it when I was a kid, but I really get it now that I have kids of my own. Once the snakes went back to god, though, that was when my favorite part of Cothmas would begin. I'd kiss my parents good night, gather up all the silly presents I'd gotten and meet grandpa in my room. He was always waiting there, seated beside my bed, storybook in hand. Cothmas was a time for family, I knew, but now I think he rode the Bullet Train all the way from Temple City into Coth's station just to make sure I heard the story of the first Cothmas every year. He's one of the few people from my childhood whose face I remember exactly. Sharp eyes. That big bushy mustache, and those eyebrows, and the wild swept back hair in a tangle of smoky grey and white . The man had never seen a brush, I imagined. That's wizards for you. I'd vault in to bed, pull the covers up and give him a solemn nod. Nothing more needed to be said, and he'd crack the book open beside me and begin, "Cothmas is god's day." he would always start, "In the very beginning, when god was still new and Coth was a tiny little village unknown to the rest of the world, Cothmas became as we know it today. Constans and god's Chosen Scrivener Ioreth tell the story thusly:" The story of Cothmas is steeped in the deepest solemnity and devotion to god. The tale is one of great triumphs over wild forces, and the binding together of a holy family of friendship. It contains strange creatures, great conflicts, and heroic efforts acted out by not only we two writers, but by some of our dearest and most faithful friends and servants of god. Originally, Cothmas had begun as Coth's Mass, an invitation to all faithful people to pilgrimage to Coth and together as one single faith fall to our knees before god and thank him for finding us and for saving us. Yet near the time the special ceremony was scheduled, indeed the very night before, god placed before his most devout servants something of a test of character. The travails of this night inspired so many of the Cothmas traditions we know today that Lady Ioreth and I have come to believe it is worthy of a proper retelling, to set the matter straight and educate all Cothites as to why they enjoy some of the strange and miraculous things we've come to expect from Cothmas. The story of Cothmas begins when I was praying in the cellar of the Church, on my knees thanking god... "Ioreth." Constans moaned, "Where do you get this stuff?" He took another huge gulp of the honey-wine. He was in the elf's new parlor. "This is the best thing I have ever tasted." he said, holding it up by his shoulder. The snake around his neck piqued up at the glass, nosed at it some, and dunked its head in, lapping twice at the sweet wine before resuming its place asleep upon its master. Constans was sitting on a creaky rocking chair, his sleeves pulled up and his cloak thrown over the backrest. His tan boots were at the door, which left him looking a bit plant-like in his green doublet and brown leathers. He had been the first to arrive for the very informal celebration before tomorrow's ceremony. A little socializing, a toast to success tomorrow, and an early night seemed to Constans the picture of a good Coth's Mass eve. It would be a nice tradition to carry into the future. Ioreth was right, everything he did was so public. He deserved to enjoy a relaxing night with his friends. "Not to make a big deal out of it tonight, but there are some people coming in the next week or two, dignitaries from a place called Temple City, up north. They say they want to hear about our god." if he sounded skeptical, he was. He'd heard tell that the green sun had been seen much farther away than the borders of Coth, but even still newcomers inquiring about god so soon were either hucksters or, more hopefully, divinely guided. "I just wanted to make sure you'd be around. They claim to be a order of knights." he said, helping himself to another mouthful of wine. It was so sweet he could barely taste the alcohol at all, which made it very easy to drink! @KittyvonCupcake @Spooky Mittens @Better Than Gore @LikelyMissFortune @Fennis Ursai
  5. (OOC thread here) ----====---- Earlier On, Before The Crash: Above the mountain range below them, traveling just south of Blaurg Mountain on their way to their first stop, Blariville and the distribution centers they have there, an airship flew overhead with great majesty and engineering. This was the Grand Airship Lunova Rai, a large and spectacularly designed airship by the Global Shipping Initiative, a company that makes shipments and cargo deliveries all over the world. On the bridge, the captain was monitoring various signals in hopes of staying ahead of any issue. The crew was on full alert and full watch, as they all knew what cargo they had on board. Presents, thousands of them, maybe even millions. Shipped from Hell's Gate to all around the world, starting in Blairville. Although Hell's Gate had their own docks, it was rather far from the other cities, so it was more difficult to arrange things from there. However, it meant they had more access to raw resources from the areas around it, which had allowed them to produce everything they needed easier there. And their presents were vital for this day. Today, they would spread the gift of joy, hope, and faith across all of Terrenus, across all of Valucre, to countless children and impoverished families. Their presents would help bring them joy, help parents save on money they need to spend on the goods they need, give orphans the feeling of warmth and love and hope for the future. They were carrying the very spirit of the holidays, the spirit of Azatar, with them. "This is the Captain to Navigation Officer Rykora, Captain to NO. How are we doing?" "It looks like we avoided the dangers by heading to Blairville instead of Ignatz or Tia. We managed to avoid the dangerous migrating monsters, and there are reports coming in that....well, would not have been good for us". "Alright. Anything else to keep note of?" "There are some anomolous readings, but nothing major. Checking on them, but it looks like background wave interference and nothing more, maybe from the storm?" The captain looked out, as storm clouds began to form. "The weather didn't call for a storm. You sure its natural?" "All atmospheric pressure looks normal, no signs of magic particle manipulations. It should just be a normal storm, maybe it was formed suddenly due to our proximity to the mountains? Either way, nothing indicates it would pose a threat to us..." "I see. Linking in Defense Team 2. Defense Team, report? What do you observe?" However, the captain was met only with science. "Defense Team?" There was still no sound. "NO, what is going on there?" "I dont know, I will send Kenzie...wait, where is Kenzie? I only sent her for coffee, she should be back by now". "NO?" "What? Oh, sorry. It seems like our runner, Kenzie, is missing. Maybe those goofs decided to take a break without letting anyone know?" The captain kept the communicator on, and turned towards the front windows to see out in front of them. The storm clouds were much closer now, and looked far more ominous. It seemed to be a natural development, but....the captain narrowed her eyes at it. "NO, change the course now! I dont care if it takes us longer, just do it now! And get us lower!" However, there was only static as a reply. The NO was no longer responding. The other crew turned to look at her with dreary and ominous looks, as she tried to get anyone and everyone on the comms. But they were all static... "Crew, it has been a pleasure serving with all of you..." "Captain?" "I will now begin broadcasting a mayday. Please direct the ship in a way for when we crash, the cargo bay and everything inside survives and takes no damage. Focus power on the shielding for those rooms. But lets not beat around the bush. Everyone outside this room is probably dead. But, there is hope that a recovery team can be sent to continue our mission. That Azatar will not be ruined for all those children out there who need it. We took the job to safeguard the spirit of Azatar, and we shall not give into fear and allow our charge to be damaged if we can help it. May Gaia, and the Spirits of Azatar, look over us". "But, Ma'am...are you sure we will crash?" "We will be very lucky if we dont. Now, I shall begin sending out the mayday. They are likely trying to damage or disable our comms completely already, do I must do it now". At that point, she opened up the mayday distress channel. "Mayday! Mayday! We have been hit! Unknown Situation, not mechanical error! Please send help! Priority Cargo is on board! Send help immediately!" And then suddenly, they heard the sound of the door behind them creaking open, and they all drew their weapons... ----====---- A Few Minutes Prior to Present Time: Meanwhile, hidden from the radars and detection abilities of other systems, a medium sized airship on the smaller side flew near the airspace. However, this airship was not owned by some travel agency, or cargo agency, or any government. It was owned instead by a ragtag group of salvagers who found it, repaired it, and installed so much stealth tech into it a joke was made that you could run into it and still not detect it. However, right now, the group was in the personal section of the ship, the shower room. Several shower heads were built into a wall without any dividers, and just a pole to hand a towel on above the water while there was a small section of the wall where soap was stored. It was a very open and spartan style shower, which was often followed by people sitting on stools and finishing the wash by washing each others with soaps and sponges. It was a very old design, probably a military of some kind had originally built it. But right now, the only ones using it appeared as children. Boys and girls, and although a few seemed embarrassed by this, they were dealing with it. It was not unusual to see each other naked or in other embarrassing situations. After all, they were the Scavers. A group of children, or people who had the appearance of children, who had banded together. They lived as they wanted, and often made up their own rules, but they had some that they had established as ironclad rules. One of them was that "No matter what you are, man or elf, boy or girl, or what you believe, all are equal in the Scavers. We will eat togehter, shower together, learn together, sleep together, and fight together. We shall take care of each other, never abandon each other, and accept each other. That is our code, and our truth". And sometimes, it led to comedic moments like what was just happening, as one of the Scavers, Ezen, was just finishing a shower as he felt his behind get whipped by a towel. "Owww! Lena!" He scowled towards the other Scaver, Lena. The Scavers were not that large of a group, and often were actually split into smaller groups across the world. But this place in a way acted as a home, a central base, a safehouse, and a gathering center. This airship was their home, their toy, and their base of operations. Ezen rubbed his behind to sooth the pain, and then grabbed his own towel and made an attack on Lena. The girl managed to jump back and dodge, but Ezen then tackled her to the ground and pinned her. "I win". "Really Ezen? You just had to do that huh? No mercy because I am a girl?" Ezen blushed a little, and she took advantage of that to push him off, get over him, and start tickling him. "Haha! Damn it...haha...I won....this is...hahaha....cheating!" "Well, its your own fault. You know boy or girl does not matter in the Scavers". And then suddenly, a bucket of cold water was dumped over both of them and stopped them both The culprit was Akari, who worked in the same group as Ezen. There was no leader of course, so it would be accurate to call it Ezen's Group or Akari's group, even if neither of them was the leader. "Listen, you two can fight all you want in the dojo. You can even go there right now, cause even if your clothes get stolen you know where to get new ones. But, please do not fight in here where people are trying to get clean". "Akari, you try to act so cool, but you are holding that bucket in front of an interesting part of your body, and your face is kind of red so..." "Attention! Attention all Scavers! We have just picked up a distress signal! Ezen, Sora, Juno, Akari! Gear up and report to the deployment deck! Based on gathered intelligence, this is a high priority issue we need to deal with!" Immediately stopping any form of conversation or conflict, the Scavers quickly used their towels and dried themselves and each other off, and then ran past the changing rooms and into the armory, putting on some emergency underclothes stashed there as well as combat gear. Once they were equpped with generic gear as well as their specialized gear, they immediately ran to the deployment deck. "Attention you four! According to the intercepted distress signal, and recovered data we have from our source in Hell's Gate, an airship crashed here. An airship that was carrying large amounts of presents collected for charity to orphans and poor families for Azatar! We may be scavangers, rogues, outliers of society. But we are those who have maintained our Childhood Spark, and we understand more then anyone who has grown up the impact of Azatar and the joy, hope, and faith it can bring! Others will be arriving soon, but we cannot just sit idly by when we are so close! Ezen, you and your group will go to the site and recover the cargo, mark it for us to be picked up, and we will load it for delivery. We dont know if we have enough cargo space for it all, but without any other airships in the area, we are the only hope these presents have on making it on time! We cannot locate the exact position of the ship, so its up to you all to find it!" Wearing heavy coats, combat boots, cargo shorts, metal helmets with built in goggles and tech, and other stuff that looks very military style but sized for them, the group picked up their weapons and looked out in front of them. "Understood! Now, for the vote! I vote yes for the mission! Sora, Juno, Akari, your votes?" "I vote yes! We have to save them!" "I vote yes! There is no debate!" "I vote yes! Azatar is too important to the hearts of people!" "Alright, our group is a go! Switching to codenames! And....deploying!" Suddenly, the heavy door in the deployment room opened, and the four of them jumped out into the cold. It seemed to have become a shilly, blizzard snowstorm out there, and the ship was somewhere in the center of these mountains and valleys, along with them presents meant for the Azatar Holidays. They would go out and find those presents, recover them, and fight off anything that would get in their way. ----====---- Meanwhile, Present Time: While the Scavers deployed overhead, having jumped out of an airship and into a blizzard, there were also those on the ground who suddenly got the signal. Kobayashi took down the hood of his black coat, as well as the second hood of his vest. But he was not alone, as another walked up behind him, sharing his white hair and red eyes while not being relatives. Noah looked out into the distance. "What....what is Azatar?" Kobayashi gripped his fists. The two had only met each other again recently while looking for others to travel with on foot, undetected, to another city, but they were sort of starting to talk to each other given similarities and some previous events. "Its a time of year where people are given presents, and celerbate hope, faith, and joy. We...we cant let them fall. We have to help". "So its like Chris....nevermind. But, should we really?" "Noah, we have to. Neither of us seem to have people to celebrate with, but do you want to let others feel the same pain we have?" Hearing those words, a fire was lit in Noah's eyes as he remembered all the abuse he had felt. And then in his mind, he put it together that helping with this would prevent others from being abused and neglected like him, and instead recieving love and care and joy.... "...alright, lets do this. We cant let that happen". The result was obvious. (Well that was super long, but also super necessary. Also had to use the chance to explore more of the Scaver group, so people understood what they stood for and such)
  6. "The world accelerates towards eventual Annihilation , as all worlds do new technologies are developed some form allies with one another but some are destined to seek all the power...to control all that exists within their eyes, to become god themselfs. Yet in the mist of their endeavours they or others that feel threaten may take precautions in a way that ends with a really big bang, this time its something more terrifying then a nuclear warhead this time it is something more, something that would make people feel unsafe once again for the future" The day had clear skies, the sun was shining, and various waves bounced upon the shores of an island so small it was more described as an insignificant hill perfect for certian weapon testing. The first of meny soon to come this was more then the average nuclear bomb, this was a Thirmanium bomb. Boiled in a spinning vat of various reasources like Buborium set to cook for 24 hours until it turned bright red and had its density increased using hydrologic pressurizers to turn it into more of a delicate spherical gel ball the size of a person's head. One that floated in a medium within its bomb capsule. They had build their first and hopefully only nuclear submarine just for this purpose, this test, the 'makers' left suspiciously unnamed were most likely hoping for good results else where. On the Submarine which was being transported to Water well City via airship (2 actually carried it) the bomb was loaded similarly like a torpedo. The transport was quick and within under an hour it was on its way to secretly begin its weapon's test on the insignificant island. ------At ×××××× Facility also known as The X Nexus "Well All going according to plan? I really hope they hurry, I just want to mass produce these already, then we'll have fear on our side" "I dont know how those children were able to conjor up this feat but I love it! Now we have a secondary use for your great gift. However do they wish to continue to remain anonymous? " Rotwell questioned. The thing was there was no children, no one had actully 'conjored' this weapon up, instead the ingredients had accidentally been found within the database in a thought to be corruped file which it turns out only the file itself not its contents were corrupted....but Rotwell never knew that and would never know the council and King Lewis would make sure of that. "Yes and we the council decided it so, anyways how long until the launch commences?" "14 minuets sir considering the speed of the vessel, however we put so. Much into the speed that we never bothered with stealthing the submarine due to all of that strange emp dedication " "We wont need stealth after this, infact I dont believe any sort of stealth could hide that explosion i mean stealth can barely hide a regular classical atomic bomb explosion." Speaking as if Rotwell was a mere child. Shuffleing towards the large array of screens that were tracking everything making sure to record every bit of information for historical benefit and future analysis to futher its research and looking at it it seemed that the sub was headed south south east ---back to the sub Soon it would arrive at the small island and the test would commence. If done right the nations around will know not of who detonated the explosion or how but even where it exactly detonated will prove to be difficult. If this was done right
  7. Revival If you ever you knew only one thing about the vast expanse and massive glacier that was Shawnee. You would know that it’s cold. One would dare to even say it was very very cold. In its warmest pockets you’d be extremely lucky if it rose above a single degree. Shawnee was a place where winter reigned eternal and only the strong and adaptable survived its cruel and unforgiving wastes. Yet despite the below zero temperatures and lack of vegetation, people had not only decided to make it their home, but to thrive there. Various tribes of humanoids and other wildlife had laid claim to parts of the glacier in bloody defiance of the humbling fury of Mother Nature. In fact, some people had even carved out a nice living from the glacier. On the northern shore, the coastal town of Albor had originally started as a small tavern and pier for sherpas and mountaineers to take the various thrill seekers and explorers up the glacier in search of adventure. Since its founding, the town grew up fast. Now boasting a population of over two hundred people, Albor stands as one of if the only hub of activity for scientific studies of the glacier, trade, and the continued first stop for people looking to explore the advance of Shawnee. But it would come to an end, as all things inevitably do. ”Good morning, Doug!” A man shouts out as he waves to one William James Douglas. Dock manager and family man. Douglas waved back, It was a good day after all. Douglas or Doug as he was commonly known, was in charge of all the shipments and boats that came to dock at this tiny port town. He’d collect taxes and catalog everything they had received from passing trade ships looking to make a few quick bucks selling marked up goods to the town. It was a simple life, but one he enjoyed. Approaching Doug a man in a thick winter coat approached him with two cups of coffee. ”Good morning, Greg. I hope one of those are for me?” Doug chuckled then clasped his hands together for warmth. ”I don’t know, you did let that merchant with the electric blankets slip buy last week.” Greg jokingly said before handing his friend a cup of coffee. The two men sipped their warm drinks before continuing on with the day’s agenda. ”So whose coming in today?” Greg asked before taking another large drink. ”A boat full of climbers I think, they usually stroll in before dark, and two trade ships on their way to Biazo. It’s funny though.” Doug sipped at his coffee and seemed to ponder at something. ”What?” Greg inquired. ”Captain Smith usually isn’t late. Like ever. First time for everything though I guess.” And then Greg pointed out to something. ”There he is, out there. You see it in the fog?” There was a small black shade that he had pointed out to that got progressively larger as it came closer to shore. ”Yeah I see it. Think I can get a discount today?” Doug chuckled and then that’s when things started to go wrong. ”Hey um, does Captain Smith have more than one ship?” Greg asked in a somewhat worrisome tone. ”Nope, just the one. Why?” Doug queried in response. Greg said nothing and only lifted his binoculars that hung from his coat. After a few seconds of looking, his face blanched and his skin went pale white. ”Doug get everyone inside! Right now!” Greg yelled as he went to the gun closet inside the pier’s administrative booth. ”Why what’s happening?” Doug followed his friend and shortly after Greg spilled out from the room with two rifles in hand. ”Get everyone armed and get the women and children to the tun-“ And then it hit him. Thunking into Greg, his body hit the ground like a sack of bricks. A barbed arrow stuck out from his gut as he screamed and held onto the arrow and wound it caused. ”Greg Hol-“ ”GO!!” Greg yelled to his friend. As much as he didn’t want to, Douglas took his rifle and ran to warn the town. A few moments later, the loud and heavy footfalls of iron boots hitting a wooden deck sounded off. Grabbing the rifle next to him, Greg chambered a round desperately and placed his back against a stump of wood that comprised ones of the piers support columns. A shot was fired out into the fog only for it to spark and ping off of a massive shape of darkness within the fog. Stepping forward, Dredge looked down at the small and wounded man. ”Such cute little toys you people have.” That was all Dredge said to the man as he walked past. ”Beat him to death with it.” Following behind him was his personal vanguard. A group of the nastiest individual that Legion could muster. A few cries of defiance and one more gun shot rang out before the last few “No’s and Please don’t” were echoed swiftly followed by the clubbing and sounds of skull cracking and blood pooling around a dead man. Dredge took in a deep breath of air and sighed happily. It was nice to breathe fresh air again. All along the shore landing craft hit the icy gravely shores and Legion troops came aboard with every unit tugging back on the chains of massive dire wolves. ”Kill them all.” Dredge said with the casual tone of someone ordering a burger. Legion had returned.
  8. At night in the freezing cold, a muscular man dressed in an unzipped leather coat with white feathers around the cuffs walked onto the blood stained, snow covered floor of a combat arena. He held a frost blade in his bare right hand, a hand which looked all the part of an iron claw but made of pitted skin. A glove made of blue crystal claws and ice blocks adorned his left hand. Possessed of jet black hair, piercing blue eyes and porcelain skin, the man, Kurse Blackheart by name, wore leather pants and white shoes. All in all, not much to him, but then, looks could be deceiving. @Thotification (Zashiii)
  9. ChaosLord

    A New Arrival

    Among the dreams of many children of the ground, there is one that finds its way into the thoughts of many and intrigues them to no end. And that would be, the dream of being able to fly in the sky, to navigate the air and transcend the limitations of being stuck on the ground. Whether it be the freedom, the ability to bypass traffic, or simply because it would let them be able to not be late or get lost to anything, this is a dream shared by many and all. However, for those who can fly, they might contest that last one. At the moment, Ayan Yurian, a young Alura Boy who had set out to see the world and become an adventurer, was lost beyond all reason. He had found the city of Umbra, sure, but it was starting to get late, and he had absolutely no idea where the tavern was. He had a map, but it made no sense to him. Of course, it didn't help he was looking at the map upside down. Either way, it was not like he could just fly forever non-stop. He spotted what appeared to be a large park or something like that, and glided down until he was at a low enough altitude. After that, he retracted his wings and bent his legs as he kicked off his boots, letting them land right next to him as he landed in a sitting position on the ground. He then let his wings stretch out once more as he stretched out his arms, enjoying the mobility he felt wearing a sleeveless jacket and shirt along with his shorts. "I suppose if I cant find the place, I could always sleep here. Could probably find a river to bathe in too....but I was kind of looking forward to enjoying a tavern, and a real bath. Or at least a real shower...I wonder what they are like?" Ayan had only lived with his family, his clan, and so his curios mind started to wonder if they had different customs then what he was used to or not. Despite his curiosity, he had yet to consider asking for directions yet, which could indicate a bit of airheadedness.... @The Hummingbird
  10. Outsider. Unnatural. Heretic. Bittersweet were the epithets that tripped off the wagging tongues of those who could not appreciate Caeceila Glasmann's affliction. In their unflagging ignorance, the superstitious and the malcontent readily misrepresented Caeceila's motives and branded her with all manner of vulgar misnomers, none of which bear repeating, that overplayed her purported ruthless efficiency and insatiable lust for blood. Of late, Hell's Gate was a cornucopia of such rumors where the nobility was concerned, particularly in drinking establishments frequented by the lower classes. In truth, anyone who was anyone could testify that none of these labels applied to Caeceila, for definitive knowledge of her condition, at least among the powers that be, easily outpaced the gossipmongers' litany. Nevertheless, a convenient lie coupled with Caeceila's newfound notoriety had transformed her into a symbol entities with an agenda could assail. She was much despised by the downtrodden who had lost their livelihoods to astounding advances in industrial automation, marked forever as a noble who cared more for the welfare of strangers than the poignant suffering of her own people, and they sought to vilify her for that injustice whether or not she was a deserving recipient of their rage. Was it any surprise, then, that drunken rabble had assembled at the gates of the Glasmann Estate, brandishing crude, improvised weaponry, approximately a quarter of an hour before guests were permitted to set foot on the premises? Not at all. Nor was it especially alarming when the mob forced itself past the team of young, well-groomed servants unfurling plush crimson carpets in advance of whatever might constitute the evening's opening ceremony, hellbent on vandalizing Caeceila's property. It was the terror that gripped the intruders in the chaotic retreat that ensued, the sustained shrieking of adult men carted out on stretchers, and the wild-eyed stares of the handful who were silent that caused the local looky-loos to quietly disperse, leaving only the scarce few who weren't so intimidated by Caeceila's show of force that they dare not brave her lair and risk her wrath. When the servants were recalled and the stout, ebony gate slid aside, its steady, telescoping motions doing much to enrich the pageantry of the reveal, a cavernous expanse illuminated by an artificial star stretched out before the audience. A tremendous collection of life-sized metal soldiers, facing inward toward the crimson finery neatly draped over the mass of platforms spread before a fleet of luxurious hovercraft, chartered for the express purpose of conveying guests from the entrance to the estate to the manor's great hall, scintillated in rays of light cast by the setting "sun," a soft, white orb that engendered no discomfort in the eye when viewed directly. A host of six-legged robots, mobile artillery units, judging by their heavy-duty design and menacing black frames, skittered in the distance, their imposing armaments repurposed for the night's festivities, firing a ceaseless barrage of cylindrical canisters that erupted into fantastical shapes cut from brilliant light into the air above crowd. The air itself was sweet with the amalgamated scent of beds of magnolia and lilac in blossom, courtesy of a microhabitat enabled by the city's world-renowned magitech. Indeed, all kinds of flowering flora dotted the landscape, tended, as they were, by swarms of butterflies so garish their admirers might get the impression that they too dressed their Sunday best for just this occasion. Empty birdcages are suspended from towering trees, implying that the exotic songbirds they once held have been moved elsewhere until the fireworks show concludes. The palatial structure that serves as the Glasmann residence proudly stands in consummate contrast to the bulk of Hell's Gate. Artistry and craftsmanship adorn every shining facet of the ancient domicile. Each stone bespeaks both the longevity and prosperity of the venerable Glasmann line, as if the fates of House Glasmann and the city of Hell's Gate were inextricably interwoven in days of yore. Much of the central structure, in fact, predates what is now considered the basic infrastructure of Hell's Gate, painstakingly preserved from the first settlement and transferred to the modern age with a profound reverence for tradition that is so very lacking in a great number of Hell's Gate's modern nobility. All of the glasswork in the older sections of the manor has been recently rehabilitated, allowing the throng of onlookers to examine renditions of Caeceila's ancestors and key events in the history of Hell's Gate through various viewscreens in the hovercrafts as they soar toward the newest wing of the manor, a staggeringly advanced wing constructed primarily from concrete, steel, glass, and composite materials. Several other buildings are visible from the hovercraft, including a private airship dock, servants' quarters, and what appears to be a small communications center flying Drow colors, but none can hope to hold a candle to the sprawling behemoth that is the Glasmann manor. Almost universally, the atmosphere is charged with magic and excitement, for this is the maiden unveiling of the Glasmann Estate. The news crews that remain descend into a dizzying spirals of feverish activity as influential and inconsequential members of society alike are whisked, as one, into this veritable wonderland that was hiding beneath their very noses. Upon disembarking at the great hall and proceeding through its titanic, metal doors, all guests, having checked in with the servants manning the gates prior to their admittance to a hovercraft, are issued a magitech tablet displaying the itinerary for the event and assigned a personal servant who shall see to their needs for the duration of the event. After this, guests are permitted to wander the great hall and the lawn in front of the great hall with the caveat that the uppermost balcony, accessible by both a staircase and an elevator, is a restricted area. For the majority, there is little draw in scaling that cordoned off staircase, for the diversions available on the first floor, mezzanine, and lawn are guaranteed to entertain even the most boorish partygoer. From skeet shooting and dueling with foils to sipping aged Yamazaki whiskey, snacking on hors d'oeuvres prepared by a teppanyaki chef, and chatting about relics, tapestries, and hunting trophies locked in various display cabinets or fixed to the dark purple wall above the handcarved wainscoting before the roaring fire of the great hearth, all ought to find something they can enjoy until the event gets underway. Yet... The organizer of the event, Caeceila Glasmann, is nowhere to be found. As with the interlopers, this is no real cause for alarm... Except that those sensitive to the paranormal will sense that the veil is especially weak in this manor. Something is amiss, but there's no time to investigate now. A bell rings, signaling that the first round has begun. White leather armchairs, velveteen loungers, mahogany furniture, fur rugs, Byōbu and sundries have been placed on the mezzanine and the first floor to facilitate social interaction with the intent of strengthening Valucre as a whole.
  11. "Uhg....what a day" said a certain cat boy.....or rather, a cat man who appeared as a boy, said as he entered the doors of the changing room at the current place he was staying at, the Saezaeshita Hot Spring and Onsen, which was equipped with a fully developed and wonderfully made facility for him to rest and relax after a hard day's work. He had recieved an urgent request from a local hospital that had been overburdened to help deal with the recent influx or patients. And somehow, he ended up assisting with surgery to repair a man's heart. Lyrian quickly took off all his clothes and then grabbed a towel, slinging it across his shoulder instead of wrapping it around his waist. He was a doctor after all, he changed with everyone else in the locker room every day, took cleansing showers with the rest of the staff after surgery or dealing with infectious patients, and had to change the clothes of his patients even and see them naked just like how most of the staff had seen him naked today. Sure, he looked young, but that was because he was a rare strain of cat people. He looked 12, maybe 13, but he was actually 22 years old. And it did not stop him from getting married, though it did not stop the divorce either. He did think it was odd though, he thought a number of the patients had the same symptoms. The hospital took measures of course to prevent diseases from spreading, including having some of their lighting fixtures radiate light that helps deal with diseases at a level harmless to people, and had other methods as well. He started to think through all of his notes that he had taken today, but quickly shook it out of his head. He had just worked 26 hours non stop, he needed to spend some time soaking in a hot springs. He soon entered the bathing area, and went over and sat on a stool while he placed his towel in a safe spot, washing his body off before he would get into the water. He wondered if anyone was going to offer to wash his back like what sometimes happened at places like this, but for now he just started on his own so he could quickly enter the water. "I hope they wont need as much help tomorrow. I can work with low sleep just fine, but its not like I enjoy it...." he mentioned, as he enjoyed the atmosphere of the open air of the hot springs even while washing off his body before he had entered the water, including the air that felt like it cleared his nose right up and rejuvenated his body already.
  12. Just some blocks north of the Gypsey Market, is a well known and well established building in Blairville known as the Central Medical Hospital, the largest hospital in the city and a well known place for medical care. Doctors and healers move throughout the halls in droves, planning and concocting all sorts of medicines and potions to help their patents. Nurses, whether they be the kindly kind, the sweet kind, the...extremly attractive kind, or even the sassy "dont you dare get in the way of me treating my patients" kind, among others can all be found helping patients in need. Among them was Public Room 42, the Physical Therapy Room. There, a young boy stood naked as two nurses continued to examine him. His body seemed weak and scrawny, but at the same time had sort of a scrappy feel to it. However, what was only noticable thanks to him being naked were the countless scars, burn marks, and other marks that screamed all levels of abuse. There was not a doubt in anyone's mind that this boy had been repeatedly beaten, used as an ashtray, neglected, and hurt both physically and psychologically. In fact, for the first five days, he refused to let anyone touch him and they were forced to sedate him. Repeatedly. After he screamed something about dying. From what the nurses, doctors, and psychologists could tell, his parents probably beat him so badly he had thought he died, and it left an impression on him. But now, he just lacked communication. However, as per Hospital Protocol, the wounds had to be repeatedly checked, see how they reacted to medication, see how they reacted to physical stress, and see what they could do to make them less noticable. Although, it was true that his parents were apparently smart enough not to make it too noticeable, for the trained eyes of the medical staff his body was covered in evidence of abuse. Some parts of his body, they thought he might have been hit by a baseball bat. Others, cut by a knife. Definently fist marks on some places, kick marks on others. Broken bones that healed, bruises, and burn marks. At the moment, they had just made him run on the treadmill, see how his legs were doing. It seemed like he must have gotten hit on the head, because once he finally woke up after having been found naked in a field unconscious, he finally came to but could barely move his body. It took him several days to be able to walk on his own, and while he can do fine now, they still make him go around in the wheelchair. Or maybe that was just because of hospital policy? He also claimed to have no memories, aside from his name being Noah Bell. The nurses ended up giving him the nickname Nobel though, a good nickname to try and brighten the spirit of someone who had been through so much darkness. The nurses were currently just waiting on a doctor to show up, and examine him further. Noah himself found the whole situation rather embarrassing, but given the state he heard he had been found in, he didn't have much room for complaint right now. Although to be honest, he did want to leave as soon as possible. He hoped the doctor would show up soon, and just clear him to leave the hospital already. While thinking that, he continued to chew some Tooroot, something the hospital gave him. He was not a major fan of the taste, but it was apparently to help deal with the sicknesses he kept getting.
  13. "The fate of the doom station of old remained a mystery as its construction had halted over a year ago." "yet in light of new advancements and new ideas the secret service branch of the government of Lexdord came up with an idea a GRAND idea. "We are to believe that inorder to survive in an ever disordering world we need to have an ever strengthening security force both technologicaly and magically but mostly techology speaking" A speech from the king Himself just over a week ago to both respark the station and to provide a more powerful security system not just for lexdord but even its surrounding neighbors would be safe wether they know it or not They will always be under watch........ The idea was to convert the station into a security hub and replace its outdated tech with new and powerful computers which will when in operations begin its quest to survey the entire nation and more........ yet it wasnt exactly automatic as it still needed people to over look the comupters, manage security teams, hire spys, take down unwanted organizations, and eventully know every thing about everyone..... except those secret projects of Lexdord's course, the computer would be preprogrammed to mark those as nothing, no markings....no problems due to the other hundreads of nothing tags that would be present diplaying that nothing special was going on there, this is to ensure that in the case of an invasion the new holder of this station never finds out about the projects. Down below the heaven gate that would send the first crew to the station began to open......
  14. Good can only triumph when someone stands up to the darkness and shouts defiantly into the void. Illyana read that somewhere, though the title of it now escapes her best attempts at recollection. Regardless of where it came from, the words still held truth within them. It has become her mission to follow these words, and to defy the darkness with every fiber of her being. There was a knock upon her door, and a voice calling out. "My Lady, are you ready?" "Yes, Maria, I am ready." Since waking from her fitful dreams she has been praying to Gaia, hoping for insight and guidance towards the goals she has set out for herself. As always, guidance was difficult to come by from a metaphysical being, but she was confident Gaia heard her prayers, for she had welcomed the goddess into her heart completely. With the support of her matron deity, the young Lady of House Uldwar felt she could withstand any storm, walking out of her chambers with confidence and pride. This is to be the day the light returned to the islands, and people could feel hope once again within their hearts, even with everything around them being so difficult and trying. Accompanying her was her bodyguard, selected personally by her father, meaning it was one of the members of the intimidating Dogs of War. His name was Sir Aron Redford, a reserved man that showed great spirit when roused into worship of the earth goddess. A paladin he may be, Sir Redford could still be just as savage as the rest of them, that much she knew by the order's reputation alone. Hopefully he could restrain himself during their time of charity and giving back to the community. "Lady Uldwar." Sir Redford said as they exited the Keep. "Why are you dressed so plainly? Do you feel you must be disguised while out in the streets?" Instead of her usual fine clothing, Illyana had chosen simple white linens that made her look more of a healer than a noble. "During this time, Sir Redford, I am going to be very close to sick and injured people. Jewelry and silks get in the way of trying to mend those suffering, don't you think?" Nodding, Sir Redford began detailing the other details of her protection detail. "We have hired extra protection for you today, Lady Uldwar. They will be here within the hour when the boat arrives. We have also received word that a shipment of grain was coming in from Corinth, from a vassal of House Hildebrand." "Send word to the pier that shipment is to come directly to the temple without delay. The De'Laire family have been very generous to provide food for the needy people of Ursa Madeum, they deserve to travel unmolested." Gaining the support of others was a blessing, and she had made many promises to make it up to them for their help. Payments already given, and now they simply had to await it's arrival. "Yes, my Lady." When their walk had ended, Illyana and her group had arrived at the temple erected just recently, welcomed by the priests who made this place their home. Knights spread out to form a defensive line, Sir Redford staying by the noblewoman's side for protection, and Illyana went to work preparing the set up. "People are already starting to come in. We need food and drink ready for consumption, fresh bandages and wine ready to boil. From what I understand the bugbears of this island are going to be coming here as well, so keep your fears to yourself or else you'll give them the wrong idea." Human, elf, goblin, all deserved the love and grace of Gaia. By Her will, Illyana intended on sparking a new wave of religious conversions, and to save the souls of the people on these islands.
  15. In the Kastoria District, within the Iron Stronghold the street outside is crowded with a procession of priests. The Bravot Library stood as a two-story tower of polished marble, with several stained-glass windows and dwarf-wrought iron furnishings. The further corners and outline were lit by glowing gemstones set into the ceiling, casting eerie shadows on the flying machines and dangling bones of fantastic creatures overhead. The well-spaced domes of intricate detailing and artistry allow natural light to filter in. It's as charming inside as it is on the outside. Marble pillars support the upper floor and the fans attached to them. No corner is left unfilled with otherworldly gadgets, whirring gizmos, and skeletal remains of fantastic creatures. Spaced throughout the Library’s main and second story are globes—detailing far away planets and mysterious lands. There’s no discernible directory to be found, yet the plentiful staff guides have detailed and intimate knowledge of where to find just the right book. It is said that the Bravot collection is vast enough for several stories to be built underground. Some of the books could be seen floating through the halls. Tourists and scholars seem to be the primary clientele here—a good sign. Several long tables are occupied by, what seems to be entire intrigued visitors, dressed eloquently for an evening of spooks and fun, all enjoying the open space. lounging in conversation while accepting unusually colored drinks. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who are indulging in carving gourds and pumpkins, while others venture off to explore the complex halls of the Library. Veils of fog hover along the ground, while furniture draped in white sheets are sprinkled throughout rooms. Intricate webs are tastefully placed, courtesy of Rowan, while flickering candles hovered and wandered through over the heads of others. Mysterious twinkling lights--the mischievous Fae, no doubt--blink in and out of existence. Though the machinations that run the Bravot Library are unclear, it is immediately evident that it is no ordinary Library. While the layout presumably is all it appears, the Library itself is not—as rooms upon rooms that could not possibly fit within the confines, do! With books collected from across the multiverse, the Bravot Library is a gem to Kastoria. A lavender feline sits on a table by the entrance, the gentle echo of a voice reverberating in the minds of all who enter: Welcome, Seeker. I am called Mephisto. What and who I am is the same. I am the Articat and the Book of Descendants is my charge. You have questions, I have answers. Please enjoy a bite of food and dessert. Spirits are being served all around, drink at your own discretion. Please be aware that the rooms are very much alive, and it is easy to get lost if you wander off. There are several tricks as well as treats waiting for you within. Please be safe, and enjoy the soirée.
  16. The way the world seem to be heading for has told time and time again that Lexdord requires a new motive of transport for incase they weaken into nothing "Today we are what? A piron Engine? Do you know what that takes, how long it might take to even bring it online?" As Rotwell had sent his team of scientist to work on the projects. "yes Rotwell I know but you've got to understand that this world is the way to its end if you havent seen the reports.....so were going with building that Piron engine early rather then late" The King had said through a secure line "Dont say I didn't warn, these things are fragile as well Cap'n" "Then we'll cover it with protective metals. Now stop complaining and get reserching! Ill fax you the list of priority things." Then the screen went dark laveing Rotwell to start on the first of very difficult project to come. The scientist were baffled as neither of them knew what a Piron engine was, yet from what whas heard about it, it had something to do with super magnetic charged ion particals. The list of other technologies that were to be a priority went through the system's computer and copied itself as a paper listing just what the king wanted by the end of the year. "He does know that its not going to be easy..." As the small model funnel shape steel outer mid cast of the engine was being constructed to give it as an example of what the end product was surpost to look like. Rotwell announced to the scientist in an enclosed disclosed room about the engine and explained its purpose "So this is whats known as a piron engine" its sleek silver streaks that when compared with other engines was pretty unique. with its sharply shaped front and back enclosing a cylinder like sphere enclosed within the classic funnle cone shape of an engine "This is recalled as one of the finest engines that could ever be" of course that probely wasn't true anymore as things get updated all the time, however based on the information left from the damaged data base it pretty much was true to them. "everything that we are to work on for the future of not just our own...but the future of Valcure. As you have heard there are ELE (Extinction level events) being detected all around the globe. Though meny are quickly calmed and relived there are a few however that are currently growing at an unprecedented pace and soon it would be too late." saying this somberly as he dramatizes the large scale events like Elderion's spiritual end, and what ever was going on in Kadia. "as you can see the end will soon come...but will all of us have to face it? Mabye not....mabye if we discover enough to to something about it no one will have to die yet there are some that chose to kill rather then save and because of this....we have left them and actully everyone out of this." depicting that the project remain a secret even to the closest of allies. "And because of this you all might be living here for a while, something like.....4-5 months but then again you shouldn't seem surprised as this is what we all signed up for... To give our lives to research and to presue better technologies, we were never told to just stop" as the scientists stared with blank faces, hiding their regret within newfound responsibilities. As the fate of everything they knew could hang upon their research. They headed over to reaserch bay one
  17. AT THE FOOT OF TAEN'S MOUNTAIN RANGES IN SEARCH FOR THE HEAVEN'S ARMOR (S-CLASS ARTIFACT) "We going on a mountain We going on a mountain La la la la la Mountain, mountain la la la Hiking, hiking la la la Trekking, trekking la la la" The singing was awful, the trail was hard to traverse and the artifact in question was buried so deep in the mountains of Taen that Middy had no idea where to start. She had heard stories and fables, and she knew that most fables and myths had some form of truths mixed in them. But why would the mythical Heaven's armor be buried deep within Taen's mountains? Some say the knight hid it in this region, some say bandits took it, some even say it was cursed and had to be hidden from humanity. One thing is for sure though, that the blasted armor is hiding somewhere within this mountain. But that is why the Mistress brought Aslom the Black As Oracle with her today. The queer woman may talk in a strange language but no one can deny her ability to foresee the future- "Oh we going on a mountain Going up high to meet cotton candy clouds Up the winding mountain trails Shivering in cold until we reach the top La la la la la-" Once more Middy's thought were interrupted by the awful singing. With a scowl, she turned around to face the culprits. It was Khaki, Little Sans, Little Nats and Little Sammy, all holding hands and skipping in Middy's wake. She's supposed to be angry at them for being so irritating but seeing them enjoy their precious childhood, Middy could do nothing but but chuckle bitterly at their childish antics. Ignoring the foursome, she took point once more and lead the crew deeper into the mountain trail. @ourlachesism
  18. Blurry eyes slowly open to a horrendous scene, its stench almost unbearable. Breath becomes heavy as he feels the tip of his fingers turns numb. The victims looks up upon Arnau with a cold stare seemingly fixed at him even after moving. Watching them as he passes them by while being dragged he realize that whatever brought their death upon them, first devoured and hollowed their minds. He wants to try to get away, but his arms and legs are limb, paralyzed by some unknown power. Then he feels darkness begin to consume him and the blackness reclaims his vision. For what seems like centuries, silence brews in his mind. Ever so slowly the occasional gentle whisper reaches him, a desperate plea for his return to the world that had been taken from him. He can hear his own heartbeat slowly beginning to fate. Hope is lost... Death is imminent... Then in a sudden flash of light his ears starts to ring loudly. His senses peak and a hand reaches through the darkness and grabs him pulling him into the light. For a moment light blinds him, it burns his eyes until he is able to adjust his sensitive pupils. He finds himself on the ground outside, but where he does not know. He tried to think, but his mind remains a blank tome. An unknown face watches his curiously with a concerned expression. The young voice calls out to him. His mouth opens, he wants to speak but nothing but a desperate gasp comes out. He starts to panic for a moment, yet even so his body remains still. Breathe… Focus... You need to gather yourself… “Hey mister, are you alright?” The voice speaks. Slowly, he begins to regain control of his body and takes to his feet with the aid of the stranger. Passing bystanders look at him in pity in their eyes while passing before getting back to their errands. His hands feel numb, he tries to press them against each other but he can’t feel anything. There is a black mark on his right palm. A black circle with a cross through it. “Where am I?” He whispers, still confused about his whereabouts. Has he been abducted? What has happened to him? Why can’t he feel his hands. Why did it feel like he had been smacked over the head with a hammer, causing him a pounding headache? The questions quickly began to pile up in his mind. Turning around he sees an abandoned theater. The windows are barred but it seems like someone, or something have recently removed the planks to the main entrance. The old and worn doors stood ajar, almost as an invitation for them to enter. He didn’t want to but somehow he felt compelled to oblige. He needed to know what had happened to him and where this strange mark on his palm had come from. However he felt like he might regret the decision further on. Leaving the young that had helped him recover behind, he reached in for the door.
  19. Thrazes wandered a branching pathway on the outskirts of the inner city, looking around at the architecture with a hint of confusion on his face. He knew not how he came here, though his only thought was to find somewhere to rest at. He felt exhausted, magic levels drained. He'd have to find some food and drink if he were to survive any longer in this strange city, under the strange sky. Even on this road that seemed unpopular and dark, people bustled by on their way to... well, anywhere. The skeleton couldn't imagine how many people lived in this city, nor what direction he could go to escape the city. His footsteps made a thump-click sound on the ground because of his steel-toed boots, a sound he'd grown used to over time, especially in the cobblestone-paved pathways of his hometown. He brought aside one of the citizens, speaking in a low, quiet tone. "What is the name of this town?" The response he got was a scoff and the citizen pulling away, walking in the opposite direction. Grunting, he continued on his way. His gait was a little unsteady, caused by another reason he should find somewhere to rest... the chafing of his armor. Even as a skeleton, he did suffer from the rub of rough fabric on his bones. He usually only noticed it when he had worn his armor for an extended amount of time. After a few minutes he'd tried to speak to a few more citizens and got the same or similar reactions as before. He was starting to get irritated. Very irritated. He wondered what would happen if he decided to just punch something. Though, he didn't really feel like breaking his hand... yeah, bad idea.
  20. Upon the stage Arnau stood, about ready to give performance for the eager crowd. The tavern was packed and the patrons rowdy with drinks in their hands, singing and cheering. Some were dancing already, knocking over chairs and tables. It was an evening of celebration and he had been hired to provide these restless souls entertainment. He swept the reminder of his mug in one swoop and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he cleared his throat. The wine was cheap but it served as fuel for the artist. “This one is called; The age of the Tyrant. Enjoy.” Arnau presented as he took hold his instrument, looking back over his shoulder he threw a graceful nod to the band. In his hand a beautiful guitar rested while he gestured the crowd to be silent. --- Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead May the crows feast upon his corpse Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead The valiant knight cut off his head Our bodies and minds may be broken Our judgement shall not be left unheard Tattered, though we remain soft spoken Whispered in the night, was a single word Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead May the crows feast upon his corpse Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead The valiant knight cut off his head Let our voices echo through the darkness of the night This is our call to arms, for a better tomorrow Let us take a stand, united to bring an end to our blight Never again, shall we wallow in our sorrow Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead May the crows feast upon his corpse Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead The valiant knight cut off his head Beloved children of High Corinth Fear not, lay your heads down and rest For the night is always darkest just before the sunrise Prepare well, this shall be our final test Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead May the crows feast upon his corpse Rejoice, the Tyrant-King is dead The valiant knight cut off his head --- He finished his performance with a graceful bow and gestured towards the band behind him. He noticed that he had caught the fancy of a few of the younger maidens, to the obvious discontent of their aspiring suitors. He smiled playfully as he stepped down from the stage to mingle with the crowds until he would again be called upon the stage. Some of the women were quick to approach and almost surround him. “Ladies, ladies there is no need to fight over me. I’ll be here all week, there is plenty of time!” He commented with a passing laugh when he became confronted by furious individual, pushing his though the crowd that had formed around him. He assumed the man was one of the women's husbands trying to defend his honor, or perhaps father trying to ensure the honor of his daughter. The man was so old and ugly it was impossible for Aranu to tell. “I’m sorry but I don’t swing that way, old man.” He spoke with a sarcastic tone but quickly regretted his words. For you see, this establishment was one of the few remaining where he was still welcomed. As you can image this wasn’t the first time he found himself at odds with other men over his natural charms when it comes to women. The problem with old people was that they have had their whole lives to build their influence and all it took was a few complains to have him blacklisted from most of the popular taverns. Something that had caused problems for Arnau in the past. Long story short, it was incidents just like this one that had left him broke.
  21. 1678AY, 5 August Rain tumbled down upon the cursed island of Athentha as the cries rang out. The red blood moon held its sphere in the sky as it signaled in the Umbral Year. Time moved so slowly here, outside in the realm of Valucre, it was present time. Their current year. Inside Athentha it was still 1678AY. The sounds of blade and steel clashed against each other as the citizens fought to keep their island safe, uncorroded and uncorrupted. The armies of darkness fighting to swallow them whole, their eyes empty, fingers smeared in ore. Servants to a man named Yevan, elder of Allia. No, it was time for heroes to stand. The resistance peering out among the streets of people fighting back. Sayndar was not there to lead them. Cid knowing that he would have to release them to fight the cursed souls. Rain fell harder as lightning danced among the sky. Fire lighting up the burning houses as the citizens tried to save their land. Against a vampire and his army of captured knights and souls. How he was revived was a long a painful process. His knight commander, a young elf by the name of R, as the name had been forgotten with time. He had come back to Allia to assess the damage at the castle. However, it was here the whispers of old captivated and consumed. Placing down, a stone of old malachite and opal, he began the ritual to rebirth the vampric elder back into the realm. His nimble fingers rotting away the embers of his soul as hours rolled by. In the end, at the cost of his life, Yevan awoke. War spread around the islands as it erupted. Yevan was back coming to spread his disease amomg the islanders. Esben was enslaving people. The children however, stood there at the center. Their day of reckon was at hand. They came to reclaim their stake, lives to become enslaved to their cruelty. Will you prevail or become cursed? Will you help save the land or burn it to the ground?
  22. Vince ducked behind a alleyway, diving in between some trash cans to hide from guards who had been chasing him. The Elf was afraid, and definitely guilty. The time of day was late afternoon, and he was in a random town close to Blairville. He wore his usual getup, but was also carrying a bag filled with what appeared to be vials. Yes, you see, this story can only be made clear with context. Context that I shall begin to give you now: ***(2 days earlier)*** High above the world among the clouds, flying alongside the birds and wind; Vince flew his airship determinedly, having been searching for work and finding no such luck. This was Vincent Redhill, an elf engineer who was trying to score some cash to pay for ship repairs. His airship, the dusty ol bird, needed a new pair of wood board replacements, and he could only hold it together with nails and tape for so long. If all else failed, he always has his trusty parachute. But today he had an objective: he'd heard about a calamity that befell the lands of Terrenus. A calamity that caused the magic of the whole land to be sucked up into an ice desert and leave the population stunted and frustrated. This meant 2 things: People would be short on magic all over the lands, and that there would be a demand for it. But how would he make a profit out of this? Easy, Vince himself hated magic, but he was a being that produced it. And elf. So, long story short, he'd fill vials with his magic reserves, and sell them for a decent price. Decent being enough to fully repair his airship after all is sold and done. Maybe some food and drink too. Vince smiled, he knew this would be a simple mission. In and out, no problem. What's the worst that could go wrong? ***(Present)*** He'd sold some vials, was approached by the authorities aggressively for selling magic, and ran for it under the impression that counterfeit magic was apparently illegal. Now he hid, hoping nobody would find him in the back alley of a bar... (Feel free to join in if you want, Its all for fun, and maybe cannon post too if I passed the Supernal exam?)
  23. Locations: Chateau De Choisel - Quin’s Lab, the gardens and the labyrinth. “Das ist Ira.” Quin slurred “IRA. Wenn du ihn siehst, verletze ihn nicht.” This is Ira...I-R-A, if you see him, don’t hurt him! Quin was holding up the only picture of Ira she possessed, normally hidden away in the depths of one of her drawers where she was unable to look at it, her drunken and drugged out.state allowed her to carry it with her where ever she went. She waived it in front of Otto, who sat on the ground in the gardens. He was crushing a black rose bush under his bulk as he sat there cross legged listening too her intently. She’d taken to calling herself “mommy” when she was in this state, insisting she teach her ‘baby’ his duties. This just so happened to be the day that he was slated to go wander the labyrinth and keep intruders out - all except Ira of course - which in Quin’s current mind set - she was poisitive that he was going to magically appear at any moment. His picture told her so after all. Otto just continued to breath in that raspy watery rattle he had while she lectured him. ‘Wenn es Ira ist, bring ihn zu mir, direkt zu mir.” She continued, swaying a little, “Versuche nicht, ihn zu essen, nicht einmal einen kleinen Zeh! Verstehst du mich?” If you see Ira, bring him directly to me....Don’t try to eat him, not even a little toe, do you understand me? She waited until she saw him nod and nodded too, sitting down on the ground as well as she was quite dizzy and the dust was wearing off. She felt tired, exhausted, like she needed more. But no she must sleep, and she must eat. “Gut. Sie können alle anderen töten. Mama wird ein Nickerchen machen. Du übst ein wenig in den Gärten.” Good, you can kill everyone else. Now Mommy is going to have a nap, You can practice in the gardens while I’m gone. She swaggered to her feet and stumbled into the lab where she had a cot waiting for her to sleep it off. Her head already killing her from her latest drinking bender, she grumbled a little and closed the door behind her, hoping to get some undistrubed sleep. Otto watched her for a moment, then given full permission for destruction, which he so loved, leapt up and with a roar began to parade around the gardens, smashing plants, gazebo’s and terrorizing the servants that were wandering about instead of where they belonged. Quin rigged a few cadavers to hang from the hedges for him to find as an exercise. She made sure they were really secure so it would take him some time to get them before he could eat them. A busy - creature - was a happy one after all. Soon he would be ready to wander the Labryinth, terrorizing the occupants in it and destroying the tombstones and vaults. Happily busy with his job, until then, the gardens would take a beating, as would the rest of the outside areas to the Chateau that he happened to wander into, like the courtyard. @Greenmntman @Etched in Stone @Twitterpated @Eternity @HumanBean03
  24. Rin threw Sayndar to the ground as he came running at her. The rain drowning out his cries as it fell down heavily. Sayndar rolled against the ground, his sword falling to the side as the princess of Athentha made her way towards the hero of Lyonesse. That was his title, his proud achievement of defeating her those long years ago. That day he ripped her eye from her skull. Yet she didn't do the same to him. Picking him up from the back of his collar, she snarled. Nothing left in her eyes as she would make him suffer. Sayndar would have let her but he couldn't let the land fall to her hands. Her dark vision. His hands grasped her arms backwards to singe her skin. Rin hissed in pain as she released him. Sayndar with his last ounce of strength ran at the half breed and slammed her against the tree. He then collapsed into unconsciousness... --- Sayndar gasped as he awoke in a small enclosed camp. Those cold memories trying to suffocate him as the sweat fell down his face. Gripping the sheets as he sat in the bed, he had this dream for a week now. As if it was haunting him for a reason. And he didn't know why. Salsa leaned against the wall, her arms crossed against her chest. Her elf ears peeking out from black blue curls. Her yellow black eyes hauntingly staring at him. She was dressed in the usual resistance garb. About time ya awoke Capt'n. You've been asleep for days now after we found ya beat'n by the princess. She cut yer body up real good. Fin'lly had to shoo her off ya with that old magic tactic. "Salsa, it wasn't that easy. We were evenly matched. I thought I could redeem her this time. Show her the light. We've lost her to that villanous cur's magic. I--I--" Salsa put her hand up as she tried to ease the man's worries. Sayndar sighed as the resistance was growing in numbers yet at the same time couldn't fully go against the half breed and the man running the show. Capt'n, don't stress so much. We'll free yer princess. It will just take time. Plus we have to retrain a demon hunter again. Afraid he got eat'n by the demon raven. But the knights of Gemini Phoenix are here. Sayndar sighed shaking his head as he stood up. Yes, the knights were here to help build numbers in their ranks. Yet, he felt they weren't enough. He told Salsa he was off to see Cid. Waving her off as she stood there in silence.
  25. I plan on putting up an interest check to both open up activity for Hyperion, and to work in conjunction with Simon who will be building a few new villages that will expand into cities. I've fleshed out a few ideas I thought would be interesting and allow some versatility. Thoughts, feedback, ideas and questions are super welcome! The Sovereign City of Hyperion: As the city matures and the districts flourish, it'll be time to expand beyond the walls. Because Hyperion was designed for a small population, and have taken on so many Refugees from Palgard and Ashville, the smaller villages will look to Hyperion as a capital city. I'm definitely going to open the Laconia district to more business hubs if people want them there, but also to get started on the Academy and the Mage Guild. The Garden City of Brehill: As one of the first villages to be built by the pixies, this eventual city will definitely be known for its gardens, agriculture and preservation of environment. It will certainly be one of the more eden-esque looking villages--I imagine a lot of hanging gardens, balconies, arboretums, and a concentration of farmers and traders doing business here. The Arcane City of Imradel: As the gods wage their cosmic war and choose their pawns, the magically gifted will see a surge. Having a safe place to study their skill and hone their talents, a congregation of the divine and arcane gifted will gravitate here, building up a reputation as the Arcane City. Lots of artifact creation will happen here. Vinosea, The City of Thieves: Crime is inevitable, and poor choices and poor circumstances of citizens will lead to degradation. But even in the slums, thieves strike out to make their living. Not all in Vinosea are poor, but it is home to the wicked, the cunning and the ambitious. I think there will be a lot of faction wars here as people compete to control the city (a small scale version of Alethea's civil war). More cloak and dagger plots, small political plots, thrills and chills. A place where people can let loose and cause trouble without much in the way of law to stop them. The Sentinel City of Athadas: I think this will become a military stronghold. A sort of, "You have to get through us first before you get to the Sovereign City" type deal. Because I am working on revamping the Imperial Army--the Aralim, the Enforcers will be the main military police force in Hyperion proper. This will allow me to house the military in a place that can protect the borders, and allow the Enforcers to...Enforce. This city will also probably be more politically focused, maybe have its own military academy. While I won't have anything as active as the Terrenus military, my goal is to use Athadas for bigger quests that would involve military presence.
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