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  1. OOC: Hello and welcome to the beginning of the Chronicles of Adven! This is to be a very long and glorious adventure for those of you who wish to join. It shall be open for only around 3-5 people at first, and once things have been fully established and rolling, I am certain that I shall open up to even more people. That being said, there are a few things that need to be established. 1. Replies are to be at least once per day unless something comes up, with which I ask that someone is notified so we know. (not gonna freak out though if you miss a day) 2. All characters created must be UNDERPOWERED in the world, unless otherwise discussed with me. This adventure will be broken the moment one of our characters begins blowing up mountains with a wave of their hands. 3. No future tech. i.e. Guns, lasers, etc. If you aren't sure if something will fit, please don't hesitate to ask me. I am actually quite lenient as long as I can fit it into the ever expanding lore. 4. Have fun! Follow the Valucre rules. No god posts. and discuss with the owner of the character what you wish to do with that character before you post it. an easy way would be to send them a draft of what you envision in a PM. that way they can look it over and approve or say what would be different in a circumstance. The flames crackled casting a dim light amidst the cave. There was a piercing cold in the air that even the fire could not cure. A group of adventurers gathered around in an attempt to survive this accursed place. None of the adventurers spoke to each other. While most were strangers it was, in fact, the ominous feeling of this cave that permeated their very cores which made them silent. They all feared they would not make it out alive. An older man, dressed in leathers, with 2 daggers attached at the small of his back and a bow slung over his shoulder came from one of the tunnels. His torch cast a light upon his face which made him seem a monster - his scar emphasized in the dancing light. "I have found the path we seek. Be ready men, it will not be long before we leave." The man, Balthazaar, walked towards his pack, sitting against the wall, and pulled out a small piece of bread. Years of battle were etched into the wrinkles upon his face. Tired though he was, he had this one last hunt to do. A large round man, whom may have been as old as the archer, yet still seemed a bit younger, walked towards Balthazaar. The man wore little more than some robes, with a pouch and book hung on his waste. The man was completely bald and while a youthful jolliness could be felt from him, his face still had the look of a crazy man. "I think you should tell them the truth." The man said. His voice was high pitched and raspy as though his whole throat had been burned from the inside. "Most of them are young. We have had our fill of this world, but they have much to behold still." Balthazaar looked at the man with anger and disgust. "I do not like you mage. You are here because we need you. Speak nothing to these boys." Balthazaar spat on the ground next to himself, almost as if to say even calling them boys was an insult in his eyes. " They will be the heroes they so desperately crave to be in the end of this." "Should they survive," the mage chided in. "That is why I brought you, mage. Do not forget it." The mage, flustered, turned back towards the fire and rejoined the others. To his right sat a man, no more than 26, dressed in armor from head to toe. The man leaned forward onto his longsword gazing into the fire while his mind took him back to his family. A wife. A newborn daughter. They await him when he returns. He, like everyone else, knew this mission was dangerous. The fear of never returning haunted him like a plague. "What is your name?" The mage asked, jolting the man from his memories. "I am Arterius. And you?" The man replied. "Moden. A strange name, I know. It comes from the southern kingdom of Naaldigrad." No more was spoke of the two after that. The ominous presence of the cave returning. Balthazaar stood a few moments later, determination set upon his face. "It is time." And with that, the campfire was put out, the adventurers grabbed their torches and bags, and began their way down the tunnel deeper into the cave.
  2. Standing outside of the Tavern of Legends was the man who most patrons had come to know as Dredge. The towering and ruthless killer of men. In the previous month that had followed his last appearance, Dredge had shown his face in the tavern and killed a man who drew his sword at him. Without hesitation or even the slightest hint of remorse, Dredge had taken a life and it was clear to everyone in the bar at the time was that he had loved every second of it. So when Dredge took his first step, men cleared and gave way to his destination. They dared not stand in front of them. Reaching the fine oak of the tavern, Dredge entered with little care. Crossing the threshold into the tavern, all had gone silent. Pleasant chatter ceased and men looked stared down at their drinks in the hope that they would not become his next victim. With the still air now punctuating his footsteps, the sound of iron and muscle hitting the decks of the tavern were the only noises made. Step by step he came to the counter and placed another piece of paper at its desk. He was here for his task, and soon he would have his prize. Previously while here, he had heard Levhea talking to the bartender about the infestation of giant spiders in the attic. He had come here to dispose of them. So looking towards the bartender he pointed up to signal where he was going. "In the back. Take the stairway up to the attic." The bartender said with a bit of fear in his voice. Without so much of a word, Dredge proceeded to the stairs that would lead up to the attic. In a matter of moments the man arrived and began to ascend up the stairs. Each creaked and moaned under his weight, but soon he had made his way to the attic and entered the dusty and maze like structure of the building. Soon all would know just what he was capable of. Soon they would know the fear of his name. Dredge was here to burn it all to the ground. It would all begin in this attic. They would know pain and loss.
  3. -----> Directly following the events of Unwelcomed Guests Itylra panted hard, her eyes focusing deep on her blood stained hands and off pink colored dress, once white and elegant now coated in a mixture of the vile lifeblood of giant rats and her own. It had been a narrow escape, but a simple glance at her surroundings told Itylra she was hardly safe. The air of Terrenus was so clear, the sky was unbelievably vast beyond the tops of the massive trees which seemed to stretch on forever. The sheer scale of the place dwarfed the demiplane she once called home, or the one that housed the Tavern of Legends; it's scale was making Itylra head spin; or so she thought. In reality it was a mixture of blood loss and arcane withdrawal, her Star Elf constitution struggling to maintain it's supply of arcane energy which it normally obtained from the arcane dense atmosphere of her home plane. While Terrenus likely contained more overall arcane energy in the atmosphere it was less dense, and her body was struggling to replace what it was not obtaining from without by producing it within. The effects were immediate and jarring, where Itylra's eyes were once like a sea of stars they were now a simple gray, and under the dark blood which matted her hair her platinum sheen had begun to fade, becoming more and more translucent. Struggling to her feet the Star Elf walked on, hoping to find some kind of village or city soon, it had been well beyond a week since she had eaten, drank or slept, the events of her homeplane followed by those of the Tavern of Legend giving her little chance to recover. The moments were compounding on each other, leaving her weak and vunerable; even more so then she ordinarily was. Gripping the menacing short sword in her right hand hard Itylra continued on, unsure of which direction to head and unaware of the reality of the dangers of being covered in blood in a forest full of beasts. She could only continue on, her pace slow and her body demanding frequent breaks. Feeling her consciousness slipping Itylra began an exercise in her mind, recalling each and every word spoken near her by everyone she had encountered since escaping from her homeplane. From the villagers who guided her to the Tavern of Legends, to the patrons at the Tavern, even Dredge and the mysterious woman whom had allowed her a chance to escape the menacing titan. It was a simple idea, meant to focus her mind and do her best to remain conscious while also trying to understand the common tongue of the land. With each step her mind played a word and matched a motion or expression to it, and with each step her knowledge grew if only a little.
  4. Although Izusisil could not see the sun from her current position, she could assume it was a beautiful day based on the colors streaming down through the shell ceiling above her. The opalescent shell wall shielded Nymeria's many layers from the open ocean, and cast a rainbow of colors onto the graceful buildings that constituted the city. Izusisil's iridescent tail reflected a myriad of colors on its own as she made her way down the twisting corridors, the small scales rippling and shimmering with light. The young ithfunzi was a natural-born beauty, which made her tale all the more interesting to the gossips around the city. Born to talented dancers, the young Nymerian was chosen to join the Meretricem at the tender age of seven. Only a few short years later, a mysterious bout of headaches and seizures forced Izusizil to take a break from her training. After careful consideration, she was switched into the Mchogma tract despite her desperate pleas to remain with the Meretricem. You can't fight destiny, they had told her. Your calling is elsewhere. Iz scoffed as she swished past an eccentrically-decorated house, reining her thoughts back to the task at hand. She was in town to fetch a few herbs for a personal project, and needed to move quickly if she wanted to avoid the attention of her mentor, who had already expressed her concern with Iz's many ... personal ... projects. Under the strict (too strict, in the young woman's humble opinion) Mchogma training path, she was to spend very limited time within the heart of the city, and even then, only on direct orders from her mentor. Since Izusisil had no desire to speak with her esteemed mentor more than absolutely necessary, she needed to get in, get out, and avoid been seen. Of course, it was difficult not to attract attention when one was such a total and complete stunner. When it came time, Iz veered off of the street and through a narrow opening in the shell barrier, coming to a small but lovely little garden hidden away in the bustle of Nymeria. During her time as an Inyean apprentice, she had memorized the locations of Nymeria's most useful flora, and some specimens only grew in a select few locations. Here she would be able to find what she needed in order to finish her serum. As Izusisil combed through the tall grass and weeds to find her target, she hummed a little song, and for a few minutes she allowed herself to relax without Juni's watchful eye behind her.
  5. Dawic, Seinaru Forven https://www.valucre.com/topic/38587-elendaron-quests/ https://www.valucre.com/topic/31417-dawic-official-info-page/ "Class B (Medium): 1.5x post-credit value. 1+ players. 2+ page." "(Class B) A giant alligator has been killing anything unfortunate enough to come across its path, and the quest requires to eliminate the problem. The alligator is located in the complicated waters of the Sea Caves. The twist is that it's a mother alligator, protecting her equally dangerous (only smaller) babies." How I want to develop the story might be the same as some threads, or completely different. I don't know, but I want to try it out anyways. I'd rather any participating characters having a prelude that occurs before they all gather. There's no actually mentioned npc quest giver, npc mercenary (protagonist side or antagonist side), etc, or at least none that I know of, so I want to sort of overcomplicate the quest. Since the Sea Caves are also supposed to be a maze after going in deep enough, that might even be another situation we could add. Think of it this way. Individual character prelude, initial meet up with the quest giver, extensive journey to the destination, initiate the interaction sequence (whether combat or relatively peaceful), but instead of it ending with the giant alligator neutralized in however way, I would prefer if it drags on a little longer, being introduced to a sort of mysterious other threat, whether we actually confront it in that post or not. It can be a gateway to another quest immediately after that one, whether it's continued in the same thread or carried over into a new one. Like a series that continuously builds off from one another. If no one is interested within three days, I'll just go ahead and do the quest by myself. This would be my first time actually getting to do a legitimate role play session in Valucre, so please bare with me. Most of the times in the past just consisted of demons trying to possess my character every other post in Taverns of Legends.
  6. Life would almost be comedic in nature if it weren't so inherently sardonic. One moment you are on top of the galaxy, your empire reigning supreme with countless races, creeds, civilizations either bowing to you or being turned to glass in your wake. However the universe in its never ending chaos is predominantly fickle in what it bestows then so cruelly reaps at a whim. This is the case for one such tortured and maleficent soul known as Dredge. Hailed as the Supreme Overlord of his once mighty empire, he had it all ripped away at the hands of the enemy. A champion of light and good that had struck him down in the last epic battle between good and evil. But before the last blow was struck that would end his wretched existence, the universe showed another feature. The ability to be capricious in its choices. In the split second the overlord was ripped from his reality and forced to gaze into the omnipresent and ever expanding cosmos that is existence. Shredding his mind to pieces our indifferent universe cast the once powerful man into a new world, somewhere that had yet to feel the malice and pain brought on by his unending rage. This is where our story begins. In the wilds of Terrenus, where the plains stretch forever and mountains touch the sky. Within the thicket of woods there lay an dark armored figure clutching a bone-like bastard sword as stayed in an unconscious state. Darkness. An abyss of Stygian blackness near reminiscent of death had clutched the vile Dredge. Was this death? He asked himself as he seemed to drift across his own subconscious. A lifetime of conquest and genocide had finally been put to an end. Or so he thought at least. Life had other plans for Dredge. Ones that would shake the very roots of this world, but the first step to get there was waking up. A task that seemed to be nigh impossible for the supreme one. "Hey, Mister." A young voice pierced the void and rang against his ears. "Are you okay?" The voice asked once more as it grew louder and more defined. "Are you okay, Mister?" Again the voice rang out and pushed the darkness aside. Light began to form and blurred images of brittle brown lumbering objects came into view. Slowly the world began to take shape and become whole once more. Scents of wet grass and leaves filled the nostrils and the sensation of touch returned to him as a few prods and pokes came from what felt to be a stick. "Are you dead, mister?" The voice asked of him triggering the last few senses needed to return to the land of the living. It all came flooding back to Dredge. The last few moments of the battle when she struck him to the floor and was about to deal the killing blow. Though her face was obscured in blurs, Dredge's fine tuned senses caused a immediate and instinctive response. Like a predator laying in wait, the overlord snapped upright and wrapped his iron clad fingers around the soft flesh covered throat of whatever had been prodding at him. The world refocused back into definition and Dredge could now look at his surroundings. A thick forest covered the surrounding area. Trees and wilderness had laid claim to this earth and the annoying beasts that often came with it. The songs of birds chipped above head and soon that noise was broken by the panicked gasps and chokes of the life form he held in his hand. Suspended a few feet in the air by Dredge's raw strength. A young man of perhaps teenage years, a boy really; stared at him with eyes that darted from one side to the other like an animal that had its throat bitten into. Further inspecting the child, it was clear he was humanoid by anatomy with fair skin and blonde hair. Perhaps he knew something of this world. "Where am I?" Dredge ordered in a commanding tone. However the boy did not speak. This was most likely due to the fact that Dredge had his hand tightly wrapped around his throat and refused to lessen it. As panic grew more and more the young boy began to flail and kick at Dredge in a desperate attempt to escape. A small chuckle escaped Dredge's lips as his mouth curled into a smile beneath the blackened helm. "There are other ways of making you talk." Dredge said as he lifted his free gauntlet covered hand and reached towards the boys face. Reaching inward to use his power, the force that gave him such destructive abilities, he focused on entering his captives mind with it. Though as he began his spell, nothing happened. His powers had left him and he began to feel the air around him had no such energy for him to pull down. This alerted him of one now clear and horrific fact. This was not his world. Hell, this was not even his universe. This was a place dead to his magics and force. Like a child throwing a tantrum, Dredge let out a beastly howl that was accompanied by the cracking of bones. Falling to the ground was the corpse of the young man. This was not happening. This was fake, it couldn't be real. Yet, reality was a bitch. Soon after a few moments of panic and dread, other sounds began to push through the mix of birds and wind against leaves. Voices, and those that were nearby. Stepping forward, Dredge grabbed his blade and soon began to push his way towards them. Step by step he made his way to the tree line where a small sleepy village could be seen. Men, women, and children all seemed to live life as if there were no cares in the world. They were removed from the hustle and bustle of city and town life where they could live peacefully in isolation. Now Dredge knew nothing of this world and barely anything of the one he came from. But he knew one thing, and it was death. Staring out at them another smile came to him as he gripped his blade tighter. It was time to begin. A new age would dawn on this world. The age of Dredge. (( We are in the wilds of Terrenus at the moment. Feel free to enter however you'd like. Just remember to be flexible and fair)) Character sheet: https://www.valucre.com/topic/30108-dredge/
  7. Small group for this, 1 or 2 preferred, but 3 at most. PM me with any questions! All around the city, on a dozen different public boards, a single notice had been posted, often in the center or in places where the eye would naturally be drawn to such a notice. It was written on deliberately aged-looking parchment, with some artful folds and cuts worked into the edges. Any real artist could tell it was falsely aged, the color from coffee and the wear-and-tear far too new to be real, but that was more or less the point. Each poster had a motif beneath the words, carefully applied around the lettering, which resembled a sun with multiple radiating lines. The same motif repeated itself in the inked words, each bullet point a small sunburst. ¤ ATTENTION ¤ Do you have need of an artist? Do you want to give a gift that will be meaningful and last for as long as your love will? Do you just need a pass but the agency in question has been too stubborn for your liking? SEARCH NO MORE! Simply come to the Skywater Pub and inquire after 'Sunny, Artist for Hire!' ¤ Portraits ¤ Landscapes ¤ Family Images¤ ¤ Poetry ¤ Signatures (Official and Otherwise) ¤ Base rate of 40 silver pieces, with addt'l silver pending size and complexity of project First come, first serve! Sunny stepped back from the last of the posters, wiping her forehead with one arm, twirling the hammer in her free hand. "Lovely," she murmured to herself, smirking her most winning smirk in preparation to convince the uncertain to part with their coin. It was what she was best at, be it by legitimate business or less conventional means. And this... well, if she were being truly honest, it blurred the lines between the two at best. In truth, it was little more than a forgery service for the less savvy criminals or the less fortunate civilians, a means by which tickets could be 'forgiven' by the courts, so to speak. The wording was meant to be subtle but plain; come to me if you want a certificate forged. It won't be cheap. Come alone. She spun the hammer again and turned on her heel, whistling as she walked the familiar path back to the pub where she did her business. Sunny was a slight figure, slim and small, and her step was light and quiet. The tunic she wore under a light leather vest had both sleeves rolled to the elbow, the better to deal with Tia's copious amounts of steam. A simple rope belt cinched her pants around her hips. Her blonde hair was braided back behind her head, mostly obscuring the dark mark that stretched from the base of her skull to the nape of her neck. Her eyes were almond-shaped and quick and clever, colored golden, like the edge of a sunrise. The Airwater wasn't a very new place, or a very clean one, but it also wasn't filthy or ramshackle. The proprietor, a rotund man named Gleeson who'd once flown merchant airships, had been suspicious of Sunny at first, but after she'd given him a portion of her take he'd changed his tune. He still didn't like it, of course, but Sunny couldn't care less about that. Gleeson could huff and scowl and mutter all he liked, at the end of the day he still took her coin and played dumb to the handful of guards who ever came looking for her. Gleeson looked up as she came in and planted his hands on the counter, thick nails digging into the worn wood. "So you didn't get nicked yet?" "No, much to your chagrin, I'm sure. I've just hung a fresh set of posters." He turned his head and spat on the floor. "I'm tired of hostin' your motley crew of miscreants day in and day out, Sunny. I'm tryin' to run a reputable pub here." "Is that why your food is almost always burnt?" she shot back, arching an eyebrow. His expression soured further, and she sighed as she reached over the counter to lay her hands on his. "Glee, my friend, come now. Reputable or not, you'd still get a rougher sort of client in a place like this. It isn't me, it's just the location. Besides," she slid her hands back and propped them on her hips instead. "Besides, criminals frequent even the nicest bars. How do you think most of the government pays its way?" "Not by bloody forgery!" he hissed back, but kept his voice low by necessity. The door had just swung open to admit another customer, and he shook his head as he moved down the bar to help them. Sunny just grinned at his back and leaned over the bar, nearly climbing over it to retrieve a fresh bowl of nuts. She sat back and helped herself to a handful, leaning one elbow on the bar, her eyes far away as she pondered what the day might bring. She paid little attention to the other patron, her mind all at once far away from the bar and her profession. She half wished someone would actually request a painting again. For all her defending it, she wasn't entirely proud of her work. To paint a person, or a setting again... she sighed and brushed the thought away, focusing her eyes on the door, ready for whatever might come through.
  8. "You have got to be kidding me." The voice that spoke was shocked, in a mixture of frustration and disbelief, as it addressed its fellow speaker. A golden-eyed young man leaned over a balcony, the High Towers' Mage Guild presiding over a particularly small segment of one of many entertainment sectors within Blairville. The golden-eyed man's snowy hair seemed out of place in the building heat, as if it should have long melted from his head. But no. It remained slicked comfortably back, pressed down against the top of the young man's head. Pale, folded hands rested on the warm metal railing of the balcony, each one wringing the other in slow, deliberate motions. Finally, the pale young man flashed his redheaded companion a smile. A knowing one. The kind of gentle, inviting smile that seemed to be plastered on his face whenever he finished his learnings at the tower. "No. No no no." The redhead shook his head vigorously, irritation spreading across his freckled features. "No way. The headmasters ignored your little business, since you've maintained your studies, but this? This is downright insane, Kar!" Slightly tanned hands reached out and grabbed at the snowy-haired young man, squeezing his shoulders and shaking the poor kid back and forth, toussling his entire body as if it were made of paper. An awkward laugh resounded from the white-haired man, whose smile never faded despite his rough treatment. Though he did grunt in frustration when his head began lolling back and forth with each shake. "Alek, c'mon! It's a good idea!" The snowy-haired young man, Kar, grasped at his redheaded companion's wrists, prying them from his shoulders. That ginger-sweet smile that spread across his features seemed altogether too kind. Unbelievably so. As if there were some kind of mischievous energy beneath it, blossoming like a flower inside of him. Alek could feel it. His already pale hands were white-knuckled with worry and nerves, and energy that made each slim finger like a snake, coiled around him. "I can do it." That smooth, tenor voice. It sounded as if he were speaking to family, not to a mere friend. "I can make this change happen." His fingers loosened around Alek's wrists, freeing the now-reddened skin for the redhead's grasp to fall at his sides. The slightly taller Alek cautiously eyed his friend up and down. He went to speak, only for Kar to cut him off. "And if I don't, I can't just wait for someone else to. It's not right to the people struggling while they wait for me." There was a somber timbre to his voice now. Something old and quiet, hushed like waves lapping across a wreckage. In that moment, it was as if Kar could see every act of suffering, and vocalized the miseries it wrought about within the tangling blood vessels around his heart, the crushing grasp of his sorrows and uncertainties made clear as day. The quiet, hushed moment seemed to extend between the two of them. Alek had no words for Kar. Kar couldn't bring himself yet again to speak. Both young men were aware of the strains. Of the suffering of the people below. The terroristic actions against a controlling government resulting in casualties that were yet to be bound to either side. Uncertain folks barely clinging to life as both government agents and spell-wielding vigilantes took those futures into their hands, unprompted. Until now, Karilius had been content to watch, hoping things would work out. A child in an uncaring world, naively believing that things would change while he remained concerned with his own comforts. But now... Now he couldn't do that any longer. It had taken weeks. Perhaps a much shorter time than most would have thought, to come up with this plan. Aleksandre seemed shocked at the mere idea that Karilius had come up with this massive-scoped plan, and a means of accomplishing it, in a matter of weeks. But Kar had the motivation of violence behind him. Violence against the innocents who had done nothing wrong. Against people who had been doing naught but their jobs. "You sure?" The redhead spoke in a calm, quiet whisper, shattering the glass box of thought that isolated them from the outside world. The white-haired mage nodded, slowly, to assure his friend. This was the beginning of it all. The beginning of change. "Fine. But you get to face the Guild Council on this one. I'm not touching it." Kar gave a loud, hopeful laugh, his green-eyed friend watching him with a less-than-amused look, as the white-haired young man turned towards the balcony opening. "Well. Here goes nothing, then." Karilius, took his robe from the chair next to him, hefting it up, and flourishing it, an arcane, ghastly hand appearing to help him slide the robe around his figure. Navy blues and golden trim complimented his snowy skin, and his golden eyes seemed content to wander towards his feet, black shoes clattering against the floor as he approached the guildmasters' hall. Better late than never. Less than a week later, that same white-haired mage was putting up flyers, sticking adhesive flyers to walls, having paid his redheaded friend comfortably to craft them. A large white sun, with an outstretched hand reaching towards it. The papers themselves were labeled "The Prometheus Initiative" on top. Below the sun and hand was a simple line. "Foundation for the Accessibility of Magic and Economization of Spell Abilities seeks Mages to Join in Business and Social Pursuits. If Interested in Assisting in the Initiative, Come to the Promethean Banking and Security Building, on 12th and Sigilcrest." Despite his skinny frame and lack of muscle, the young man seemed to have been working hard as he jumped through the ethnically diverse districts, finally making his way to a larger market district, as he stuck the adhesive paper to another wall. His permit folded up and placed within a medallion around his neck, able to be popped open and revealed at the slightest provocation. Of which he'd had twelve today alone. Karilius didn't mind. He'd found a few mages here and there who were interested in the ideas he'd had to offer. Who listened to him over their own guildmasters. People who were giving him a legitimate chance. People who asked questions, who would listen to his concerns when he let them spill forth. Sure, juggling this advertisement of the foundation itself with his day job at his banking and security firm and his studies(his uncle's requirement for the guild's cooperation with his "selfish" goal) left him with little more than four or five hours of sleep everyday. But it was worth it to enact the change Blairville needed. He hoped. He looked up at the sun, to that outstretched hand reaching towards it. The bags under his eyes made his tender gaze towards his self-designed banner seem that much more tempered and uncertain, as he reached out, placing his fingertips along the sun, and flattening it up against the wall. Maybe the design was a little bit off. The hand should've been holding a piece of the sun, to offer it to the people. But it was too late for that. He was, fortunately, knocked out of his brooding as a passing cart nudged into his back, and flattened him up against the wall, his chest flattened up against the wall as he was squashed. He couldn't help but grunt in discomfort from it, as his robe hooked onto a wheel spoke. Noting it before any damage occurred, Karilius flicked his wrist, and an arcane hand formed, lifting his robe from the wheel spoke before it pulled him off in whatever direction. A few of the common folk, merchants and passersby, gave him a strange look. As if expecting more. Expecting him to zap the wheel spoke. Indeed, with the scar running down the side of his face, his snowy white hair, and his golden, sickly eyes and dark robe, he seemed more the part of a villainous mage than a simple one. His slicked back hair only added to that feel, too! But instead of allowing himself to run amock with magic, he instead turned back, placing another flyer up against the wall, pinning it in place, and smiling, the travelers, merchants, and customers all ignoring him upon realizing he was just letting the cart that'd hit him leave. His smile spread open again, thin lips parting to reveal pearly teeth, as he stuck another flyer up against the wall, this time of a small spellbook-vellum shop. No. This symbol would be fine. It was of all of the people, reaching for the sun together, trying to touch the future that they truly, deeply hoped for. It would more than make due. It was perfect for him.
  9. Untouched by civilization for countless years, the Bloodstone Marsh continues on in wild existence. Unclaimed and unspoiled woods and waters stand to folly humankind and any other denizens of Valucre that come to seek the fortunes of the marsh. Monsters roam these vast areas, claiming the lives of any civilian who treads too far into the foreboding lands. Without question, the Bloodstone Marsh is a dangerous place. It's been four months since some of the regents of Genesaris decided to pull up funds to gather experienced personnel to lay waste to these areas, trying to open up a better trade route between the prison city to the north and Mezthaluen to the south. It was more of an official recognition of the problems that were the Prison City, and finding an easier way to get to them and start fixing the hellhole it was becoming. One vassal of these regents, Sir Tolgrith, headed this task. Starting from the northern reaches of the prison city, to show a probable 'hope' to the citizens there, they established a small pass and created a temporary abode in Fort Thorn. In the months since, Tolgrith and his men have toiled and worked well enough to minor success, but have reached out for extra assistance where it's been deemed necessary. “Land, Gold, and Title!” Those are the things promised for taming the great swath of wilderness known as the Bloodstone Marsh, but so far, the journey there has been little more than hardship and boredom. As the miles rolled past, the company of merchants William found himself traveling with had grown steadily more subdued. There were whispers that the marsh was haunted or cursed. Not surprising really, coming from the other rumors of the lands of Genesaris that supplied plenty of lore and misfortune. The wagons stopped to take in the view before them. In the distance one could see the prison city to the north just barely visible beyond the lush green wilderness. Below spread a sea of leaves, broken only here and there by moss, water, and strange and erratic flora. Another twenty miles of travel, and a wooden fort broke through the forested canopy, with a thin wisp of smoke twisting through the air. Crumpling up the handout that read the details of the excursion, William smirked as he walked into the encampment. His first stop was what they called their inn, the Boar's Bones. William needed a room to shackle up within during his stay here. Rumors scuttled about, nothing in regards to him of course, since he was unknown and just a foreseeable aid. One caught his ear though. People had begun to disappear. Ok, sure, that was a common thing that was talked about where the Marsh was concerned, but it was better than nothing. In fact, it was reasonably why people were being called from outside the regular work-bearers to assist. Like William himself. "Excuse me, I'd like a room, and could you tell me where Sir Tolgrith is?" Taking a leaning stance on the bar within the Boar's Bones, William pulled out some money and handed it to the barkeep, hoping that his search and stay wouldn't be too costly. "Check the keep across the way. Big, stone. You can't miss it. Lodgings will be dealt with later, but I'll have a key for you when you come back tonight." Fort Thorn's keep was an imposing structure and one of the few stone buildings in the small outpost. It was reasonable that the man was probably over there, though William didn't surmise this as he was more keen on a bed he could secure when night fell. "Thank you," he responded with a tip before stepping back outside. The building in question was two stories tall, with few windows that were little more than arrow slits. A pair of guards standing in front of the portcullis protecting the main entrance took note of him as he approached casually. "Newcomer! You must be one of the adventurers come to answer the lord's call! Welcome! Please wait nearby until the rest arrive that are due today, please."
  10. "Woah, it's cold here..." Kiki, a genin ninja from an entirely different world, has been reverse summoned to the frozen tundra of Terrenus here on Valucre. Minus that she's surmised this place as cold, she has looked around to see, in the distance, what looks to be a desert. She, due to her young age, hasn't the slightest clue as to how she got here, or where "here" is. Her only company was a polar bear cub, whom, coincidentally, left when she turned her back. And thus, she's now alone, her curiosity peaked, as she walks the edges of the desert, and the tundra, seeking another being.
  11. The Atrium of Lights and the Royal Gardens - Arcadia District The setting sun filtered through panes of glass that sinuously stretched from floor to ceiling, casting pure scattered light. Rainbow hues ambitiously illuminated every inch of the marble flooring. Somewhere nestled in the botanical splendor that filled the Atrium was the peaceful cascade of a fountain. Ornate and comfortable lounging was scattered throughout the entirety of the glass palace, offering pockets of privacy among the tactfully placed gardens and shallow pools. Columns were wreathed in warm glowing lights, for as evening would descend upon Hyperion, the magnificence of the Atrium of Lights would come to head as a romantic, social atmosphere blossomed. Smartly dressed servers tailored in crimson, gold and ivory served platters of exotic cuisine showcased in Hyperion, highlighting its complex palette from the spicy and savory to the sweet. Dishes from abroad with a Hyperian twist were paired with Alethenian wines. The Sadira Amar and many of Laconia’s merchants supplied spirits, teas, juices and water for the crowd’s pleasure. A stretch of pavilion provided adequate space to dance as a small orchestra provided music. A dais sat at the head of Atrium, where five ornately decorated seats overlooked the entirety of the space. Beyond the Atrium doors sprawled an outdoor terrace to enjoy evening festivities, leading out into the intricate maze of the Royal Gardens. As night descends upon the city it is asked that you be mindful of your surroundings, your company and your safety… -- The venue will be open before, during and after Raveena's debutante and the Parade of Worlds as well as throughout the Festival. Mingle with others or take a break from the festival to enjoy the finer things.
  12. Leocadia Palace: Arcadia District Soft blues and rosy pastel pinks blurred together in a silver mist rolled from the banks of Ponkapoag Lake, creeping through the edges of the Haunted Glen, and sweeping through the Great Bines Barrens. Brilliant flares of gold and orange seared the sky as the sun rose along the eastern horizon. It bathed the western mountains awash in gold and silver as the first few weeks of spring brought life to the mountain side. The air was crisp and cool, the morning mountain dew and the rich scent of fresh grass and fertile soil promising a bountiful harvest. Raveena’s arms crossed along the smooth marble balcony that overlooked much of the epicenter of the Arcadia district. The only building to shadow the palace and overlook the entirety of Hyperion and beyond was the Iron Stronghold, a spire of grandeur and wondrous focal point of stone, jade and gold. Leocadia had become her home, with sweeping domes of gold and glass, open archways, rows of columns and a luxurious stretch of lush gardens within the walls. Light was ever-present in the palace, illuminating the gorgeous marble flooring and golden inlay that marked the occasional sunburst motif. It remained airy, open and comfortable—though the Aralim Knights in their stark white and gold remained plentiful and vigilant. Her ebony curls and waves tumbled over her shoulder, scattered drops of diamond pins glinting as she overlooked the city her and her own had built from the ground up. It was a labor of love and madness all in one, with trouble after trouble had beset them. Still, the Hyperion people had endured and persevered through the months. Glass lanterns of pyreflies were being hung, their silvery glow rumored to ward evil energy away. Older generations of Matreyans had passed on the craft of paper lantern making, and no expense was spared to provide her people with the materials to pass this age-old tradition down to the youth. All day the finishing touches on extravagant builds for parade were made. Invitations had been scattered across Valucre to participate in the first annual Kaess Festival—the Festival of Lights. An old Matreyan holiday celebrating life with a Terran twist, Raveena was adamant about keeping this holiday alive in the hearts of her people. A somber reminder of the sacrifices that were made, of the hardships that were endured, of the impressive feats they had achieved as a collective. The Hyperian people were strong in their hearts. They knew the mind faltered first before the body, and sought to harden themselves to carry on achieving better lives. Raveena wanted to show them the world that awaited them. For too long they had been subjected to slavery, being stripped almost entirely of their cultural identity. Raveena vowed to bring the world to them—and to her delight—the world answered her call. For the past two weeks, visitors from across the continent and beyond had traveled to Hyperion to witness the Parade of Worlds. Airships carried some, while others journeyed from above and below the sea. Mages came to study the Hyperion Academy and observe the beginnings of the Mage Guild’s building. Xenanthros from Alethea came to celebrate with their new Queen, and to mend relationships with their human counterparts. Others had come simply for the culture shock. The Laconia District was buzzing with bountiful merchants selling wares to awed tourists while Enforcers patrolled the streets dutifully, always in pairs. Port Kyros had brought from its shores the finest of Genesarian seafood, while Alethea’s vineyards brought luxurious fruits, nuts and wine to be sampled and enjoyed with good company. “You look regal, miss. Like the high ones of old!” Raveena glanced over her shoulder at the sound of a familiar young man’s voice. Not old enough to be a man, not young enough to be a boy. The man-child had a particularly lovely visage, smooth and flawless. His skin was bronze, lean and wiry man with the beginnings of a beard. He wore his shoulders erect, regarding Raveena with light brown eyes. His hair was short and wiry with flecks of gold. His nose was short and broad with dark, pointed arches for eyebrows. He was bare-chested, wearing a heavily adorned sarong and belt, with golden sandals on his feet. Golden hoops and drops of ruby and amber adorned his ears, ornate chains and rings of a dizzying array of metals adorned his neck and fingers. Raveena felt very plain in comparison, but she smiled and turned from her leaning posture. “You flatter me.” She replied and leaned forward respectfully in a bow. The man-child made her right side and leaned against the balcony, pulling up his belt—which Raveena now realized doubled as a satchel, “I am pleased to see you not dead. You should be a queen someday. I am Arun!” There was mirth in his youthful eyes, and she knew that he was teasing her. “I am Raveena,” She introduced herself as she had in the past, following along in the man-child’s wake, “Please, call me Rae if it’s easier. Pleasure to meet you again, Arun.” The young man-child shook his head and smiled, “The pleasure is entirely mine, Rae. I wish more of our women had the skill and foresight to train themselves as diligently as you have. You should consider the court.” These were honeyed words that Raven had heard before, but there was always something different to this young man’s words. He spoke with wisdom beyond his years, and held nothing but praise for her. His smile was boyish and charming. He could break hearts, she guessed, “The court, I don’t know how well received I would be there.” These were honest thoughts, but Arun only smiled broadly, “You know, a God once made a bet on a young woman—not so different from yourself. Strong and smart. He bet that she would—as plain and poor as she was—liberate and unite the oppressed. Beloved by her subjects, the God staked his godhood on her. It was foolish and rash but he had plans for her. She did not disappoint.” Arun turned to her, taking her chin and lifting it delicately so that she would look up at his honeyed brown eyes. She noted every crinkle that framed his jovial eyes. It still amazed her that he, godly thing that he was, acted as human as he did. “There’s still work to be done.” She reminded him gently—not that he needed it. Arundae’raa, the old Matreyan Sun God had been her most trusted ally and friend since before her birth. They were, in a way, old friends. Pride was etched on his features, boyish and charming all the same. “Well done, my Hyperion Queen. The sun rises with you.” -- Welcome to the first Annual Kaess Festival of Lights! This is a historic holiday for Hyperion to celebrate the city’s foundation in the wake of escaping slavery and culturicide. To celebrate the coming of Spring and the new freedoms that await the new Hyperian people, they have opened their doors to the rest of Valucre to join them in celebration. Visit Leocadia, the Palace of Light in the heart of the Arcadia District to meet Raveena as she debuts as Queen Regent and Imperial Princess to address the city and share future news and opportunities. Wander the streets and find trouble—or perhaps trouble will find you? A gang of red-cloaked wearing thieves are still loose in the city, stealing valuables. Be careful where you wander, they may steal from you, too! The Sadira Amar is open so stop on in to celebrate with a drink! Stick around for the Parade of Worlds, as various locations across Valucre showcase themselves and all they have to offer. (This event will begin Monday evening) Gather in the Atrium of Lights for a romantic evening of dancing, dining and socializing! The Festival will end with lanterns being passed around with writing utensils to write wishes, hopes, dreams and goals for the year. After the lighting ceremony, everyone will be called to release their lanterns into the sky! Need a map? Learn your way around the four districts here! -- This is an open event, and all are welcome! Several events are planned, including exhibition matches (see the IC for more details). I plan for the event to last at least two weeks, depending on the pacing of others, but I am in no rush to end and we can ride it out for as long as we can. I welcome shenanigans, just keep me in the loop of plans and don't get too carried away. As always, respect your fellow RPers and above all else, have fun!
  13. And once the Umbral Year approaches we are all in danger. Those sensitive to the dark whispers will fall first. This was always the proof. The people of Serphus Alumna hadn't suffered the most like other cities but it birthed something terrible. Something to add to the terror of the land. The land of Talia could no longer stand by and allow the people to become like Lyonesse and Athentha. Yet, the people were led by an elder who didn't care about them. Standing there at the entrance came their hope and strength. A lone elf trained by the militaries of Athentha and Lyonesse. Tangled with Esben, Rin and even the darkest of hearts. The battle scars had tried to claim her, but the knight templar had risen above it all. And in her time became Inquistor of Rowan and Allia. Yet she allowed Vex to have that title in Rowan. Her most famous fight was with Allia's own elder Yevon. He had tried to capture and enslave her to become the voice to tear the small island apart and start a civil war among them. That plan backfired as the elf battled against Yevon not allowing him to take her. Her skills learned in the icy prisons of Athentha helped her well. However she didn't go unscathed. The elven girl had been carrying the elder's bite among her neck for awhile now. The infection had been running through her blood and she managed to cover the mark with a bandage. The elf girl didn't have time to deal with it at the moment. Walking down the path she had come to Serphus Alumna to get allies to help her fix Allia. Her name was Myrrah LaZyrix. And her purpose was to stop the war at any cost. Anything to get the land back to normal.
  14. 1674AY, 4 August Serphus Alumna, Talia The Umbral Year Tuesday, 10:02A.M "It will never be the same once the Black Heart Mirror Ore becomes made. It is the deadliest of all ores because it knows what plagues your heart." H.H. Dylan, Athentha's Bloodied Past, Book II It wasn't good. More and more people were being consumed by the darkness that ran wild. Crafted by many of the townsfolk transformed by the ore they ate. However, the biggest problem was not the Sunburst Justice ore but its sister ore, the Black Heart Mirror Ore. One that knew everything inside you and knew how to prey upon you. And though it was being made, the resistance was sending others to find a way to reverse the effects. Sayndar knew that if they were to fight back they would have to research and experiment on this ore. But there was another problem. Only a few guarded souls carried the ore. Ones that were resistant to the effects of the ore. So one of the resistance members would have to gather it and bring it back without consuming it. Which would be a hard task altogether. So Sayndar decided he alone would go. He left Asbel in charge as he suited up and gather a few meager necessities before leaving the hideout. Walking down the gravel path towards the inner city of Serphus Alumna. A perfect place for the resistance to hide and be right in the open. Especially with all the black markets sprouting up and selling numerous ores including the Sunburst Justice ore and the Black Heart Mirror Ore. Of course Sayndar would be cautious. He, being the hero of Lyonesse, had dealt with bad things before but this ore was more dangerous than Rin. He sighed. Where to start?
  15. Trevor looked at his newly renovated school. It was a shame his students disappeared for whatever reason. They just left, and after that Trevor left this place. It started falling apart. The school, that once looked like an Asian martial arts dojo (only bigger) started falling apart. Layers upon layers of dust covered the place, and the cobwebs, blech. Trevor gagged a few times running into so many. He decided he wanted to teach again, so he started fixing the place up. This time, he thought he'd make it bigger. He wanted to keep the dojo feel in the main entrance and building design, but he also wanted to put a bit of castle-like appeal to it. He put large walls of stone with towers that were lit with an eternal flame on each corner. He then added doors and floors that can be changed with magic, a library full of books on magic upstairs, and he decided he'd add more bedrooms. Each having two beds, he put the quarters near the back of the school and put ten rooms. That should be enough. He added a cafeteria which was under the training room (the training room was full of magical symbols and glyphs inscribes on the stone floor). He added a room for elemental magic. He even went out into the back area of the school and added things to his "Garden of Peace". This would help meditate. The trees, wildlife, flowers, and atmosphere of the place created an eternal feeling of peace the more you breathed. He added a flowing river that went into the large pond. This place was larger now. He liked it. The first and second floors kept the feeling of the dojo, but the third floor had a castle appeal to it. This is where Trevor's room was stationed. He wanted to be able to see anyone coming. Hell, Trevor even added a room on the second floor that expelled most magic. A mage should be just as good with a weapon as they are with magic, or so he believed. He understood it wouldn't be for everyone. That was inside the walls though. Outside of the walls, well.. He put a lot of the same type of plant life and nature that was in the Garden of Peace. There was a beautiful path leading to the front gates, which entered magically whenever a presence drew close enough. The doors to the school however, were opened manually. Trevor smiled and nodded to himself. He was proud of his work. Now all he needed was signs. At the beginning of the path he put a magical floating sign with a magical, glowing inscription. It read, "Welcome noble traveler! Are you interested in magic, but don't know how to use it? Well, if you are, just follow the path! You will find a free school, where anyone is welcomed! unless you have evil intentions... So come on down!" He put similar signs along the path that lead to the school and in areas around the first sign. He was feeling confident about this. It was time for him to keep his mentor's heart and teachings alive. Trevor then sat in his room, watching the path. "Soon." he thought. "They'll come. I'm sure of it." (Here is the OOC)
  16. The outside appears to be minimal and modern with slabs of marble and stacked stone in a grey palette. The inside is warm with distressed wood paneled walls, a romantic, whimsical canopy of trees overhead, and the soft twinkling of lights as an open fire glows in the stone fireplace. Small, curtained windows framed by wooden shutters let some light filter through, and small, intimate tables are arranged for the flow of impeccable service. It is clear the Enoteca is meant to be an oasis of intimacy and romance. An impressive stretch of marble slab makes up the main counter top, a clear path indicating a newcomer may start there. The floors are equally distressed but maintained, the air clean from the artfully placed trees inside. The menu was rumored to be small but flavorful, based solely on the wines provided at the time. A portion of the counter was lined with baskets filled with fresh snacking goods from nuts to bread and spiced oils, some which came as suggestions to pair with a favorite wine. A path leads around to a second room, which also boasts a counter, flanked by an impressive array of local and imported wines. On display are various retired swords, tools, and artifacts—their ethereal abilities long spent and merely for decor. After lunch in the late afternoon, the Enoteca would open its doors for a few hours, allowing the locale and tourists trailing in from Port Kyros to make their reservations and dine for the wine or see their wares inspected, repaired, or built to order. The cellar would open as the orders for the best of the best wines make their way in. Meals are prepared light and are not meant to satisfy those who are voraciously hungry. Built for refinement, elegance and courtesy—drunken debauchery is heavily frowned upon and security is never far. -- Welcome to the Enoteca: the chic, romantic sister-bar to The Sadira Amar. With the Port City’s arboretum taking off and growing a variety of fruits, it became clear to Raveena that capitalizing on the wine industry would bolster Alethea’s tourism significantly. While the Sadira Amar is open and inviting, the Enoteca is an establishment designed for intimacy and privacy. Like its sister-bar in Hyperion, the Enoteca doubles as a workshop where Genesarian artifacts and weapons can be repaired or built to order. Shopping patrons are escorted to the adjacent room where a workshop beneath the floors going into the cellar has been fleshed out. An up-and-coming Artificer and Scrivener in the service of the Queen resides here and can give anyone a quick lesson on their artifacts, its history and its use for a fair fee. Stop by to sample the local flavor, delve into the mystery of Alethea and it's potent source of magic. There's rumors of ghosts of fallen soldiers that haunt the memorial, of secret societies and vanishing cities. From the magical to the mysterious, the Enoteca welcomes you in.
  17. Call it what you will, but there has always been a strange, invisible force that pulls people in certain directions. This force goes by many names. Fate, God, Luck, they are all the same, and all have potentially catastrophic sides to them. For House Estella-Negra, they have only known the harsh sting of the negative providence towards them, it nearly breaking them entirely. Everyone must answer to this force, from the lowliest serf to the most powerful of nobles. Today on a pleasant day in the countryside some distance from the city of Izabal, this idea has never been more true. Standing atop a balcony of their prestigious estate, the patriarch of Estella-Negra, an honorable man by the name of Esteban, ponders in somber silence. With the sun shining pleasantly down on his pale skin, a light breeze caressing the area, one would assume this would lighten the mood of most people. For Esteban though, nothing could remove this cloud of depression that had been upon him for so many years. Fate had never been kind to him or his kin, all thanks to the blasphemous prophecies of his progenitor, Jericho Estella-Negra. It was a cruel thing, to live in such a beautiful land, only for one's life to be so ugly. Out of the five children he has had with his wife, Selena, only one has survived to manhood. Samuel, his beloved child, doomed to an early grave, as they all were, it seemed. Bearing the name Estella-Negra was a curse, one that was always fatal. The darkness that lurked within this family held a solid grip upon their very souls, choking them with impossible nightmares of what will be and what cannot be. Such maddening tribulations could only be compounded by eldritch teachings handed down by the trusted hands of familial bonds. Dark lore of La'Ruta is known to all of those within Estella-Negra, for it was the coveted secret of their household. "Proud and venerable, yet so close to indefinite damnation." He whispered into the passing winds of that sunlit morning. Turning back to the inside of his ancestral home, consumed in the darkness which filled both the interior of the building, and his very soul. Deep within the confines of his sanctuary, Esteban's footfalls echoes through the empty halls in soft succession. Torches were lit within the corridors, providing soft spaces of orange light separated by the thick lines of darkness in between the sconces. Sometime in the distant past, this place was once filled with the laughter and joyous spirit of its residents. These times were not during Esteban's lifetime, nor were they part of his father's, his father's father. All we have known for generations was the umbrage malice that had started since the very beginning of our family's formation. "My love, you must remove yourself from such troubling thoughts. We all have our duties; we must embrace those duties for the good of our Household." Selena was such a comforting soul in the grips of these troubling times. Voluptuous features marked the beautiful Orisian heritage that they both shared, her amber brown hair as soft and silky as ever as he ran his hands through those luscious locks. Embracing each other in the half lit darkness, Esteban brought his lips to her, the passion between them, relieving him of the pain which plagued his mind. In breaking their embrace, he gazed into the depths of her hazel eyes, knowing her to be his lover and soul mate. "Yes, my love, I know. These thoughts plague my mind at all hours. Do you not feel the Herald of Doom upon our doorstep?" "Every since I married you I have felt it, but I do not care about that. To be with you makes it all worth it, even if it means at the end we all take our rightful place in the crypt beneath this place." Such beauty, breathtaking in her understanding and commitment to her people, it always inspired Esteban to new heights. For so long they had stayed within the shadows, hoping to one day garner the power and respect they deserved. Today perhaps, would be the dawn of a new chapter for House Estella-Negra, one where they take destiny into their own hands. "Yes, you are right, my love. Let us take what is rightfully ours, and succeed where others have failed. Even if we are to die, we shall not die without having accomplished something in our lives. We will create a new future for our family, for Samuel, our only living son and heir to this dark, twisted legacy." Once more they kissed, set in their new path as they would make a new effort to retake control over their destinies. On this day, they would send out a call to the brave, the intrepid, and to those hungry for power shrouded in glory. House Estella-Negra would finally move from the shadows, and into the light of its new and vibrant future. Some of the invitations were sent by their human couriers, others carried by the silent and melancholy siervo por siempre. They would seek out those willing to become part of something greater than themselves, and to take hold of greater riches. As a new member of Estella-Negra, those who answer the call will receive all they wish for and more, though the cost can sometimes be more than daunting...
  18. Hillport, a city known for being famous as a trading city as well as a gathering place for adventurers of all kinds. Located on a hill beside the sea, it was strategically sound as well as having close access to the nearby forests for natural resources. But their cities newest construct was one that would cause the trade in the city to skyrocket as well as put them on the map. A tournament of power. An event to bring the best adventurers of all shapes and sizes to one place for a big blowout. The king of Hillport spared no expense on this event, promising a HUGE reward for winning the tournament. The people were hyped, the surrounding continents seeing this as an opportunity to show their power as well as brag to their rivals. This was sure to be an epic showdown! https://i.pinimg.com/736x/fd/f8/d0/fdf8d06dea4455526383e3ce13d2bdfb.jpg (Note, this is non cannon, I am not sure how happy Supernal will be about me putting a potential Dragon Ball event here with our characters. Also, since its not cannon, I wish to allow the world destroying rule to be lifted, as I will be throwing surprises in when I wish. Enjoy!)
  19. Invitations have been sent, the gathering should begin shortly. So thus a willowy figure waits, hands tangled carefully in front as emerald eyes scan the bleak and desolate horizon. The Dryad is eternally patient, content to remain in stoic nature until all have arrived. Soon, they shall arrive. Soon, their work will begin. @THE_BULL
  20. Dancing with Devils Land - Terrenus City - Tia Tia, an amalgamation of technology, industry,military might and Magic. Long ago forged on the backs of those seeking fortune and favor. The city itself was far from beautiful with its large pipe lines weaving throughout largely metallic structures, each more patch worked than the last. But in this city there was treasure to be found, those who were not adverse to hard work would find it easy to make a living in the various factions of the city itself. The military and police often needing new recruits, the manual labor forces always need new hands to replace those retiring or those who vanished without a trace. It was a prosperous city indeed, but with each city there was a darker side to it. This one was largely accepted as part of every day life, after all what could be done against the denizens of the night? Gangs, fight clubs, and mysterious missing people cases were nothing new to the cities underground scene. The vampires who called the city home were more often organised, choosing to lay low and not attract a large amount of attention to themselves, although as with most groups there were those who would ruin it for the rest. Creatures who would stalk the shadows of the buildings after dusk, seeking out anyone who had not yet returned to the safety of their homes. It was a given that most places were safe but to go walking through the dark maze like pathways that were dotted about the town was asking for trouble. Additional business for this thread: Devil's and Ladies bar and hostel: A seemingly run down bar with a patchwork of iron plating making up the exterior of the building, located not far from the storage warehouses that good were often placed after coming off the trains. Although it is situated in a place where there is a large number of people passing by it is often overlooked due to its odd opening hours, the owner deciding to cater to the more nocturnal crowd instead. Offering a sanctuary for anyone arriving late into the city as well as good food, beer and sometimes entertainment. Inside it was well set up, comfortable yet cheap leather chairs were placed around small tables, the lighting enough to see but dim enough not to blind the already drunk patrons. This is run by Marg, a rather hearty former adventurer. A heavy blonde braided beard, round almond eyes and rosy red cheeks would be what most knew him for, as well as his thunderous laughter. He is both the owner and bartender for the joint. No one bothers to try anything inside for fear of being tossed out a window by the 7ft giant of a man. Storage depo no.7 - The basement: Further down the winding maze like walkways and roads would be the less expensive storage facilities. Usually only used for emergency storage until a more desirable unit would become available. However there was one unit that was always in use, the lights coming on each night as various people gathered to go inside. Once inside there would be an elevator that would take customers down to an underground room that was carved out from the rock and molded around existing pipes. It resembled a hive in a way, with four stories of walkways and viewing areas all surrounding a blood stained boxing ring. Inside this area people looking to make a quick buck or test their skills would face an opponent who would no doubt be there for a similar reason. Guards would be hired to stop any of the viewers from interfering with the fights, cameras there more to record the event itself instead of for safety reasons. The area seemed brutal but it was a favorite pastime for some of the residents of the city, why not gamble your money away? Spend the night watching complete strangers beat each other senseless and sometimes to death? There is no known name for the group of people who run this ring, only that the dead contenders vanished without a trace quickly after, could it be a deal with local vampires? Who knew, maybe it was vampires who ran the ring itself? ((So this is my first thread, please feel free to jump on in and play as you see fit. I am doing this to give my character a chance to step in and settle down in this city. Interactions are welcomed, but be aware I have my own story to weave. ;) Other than that please adhere to the site rules and enjoy yourselves.))
  21. Harry opened his eyes, amazed to be in the same place as before. His astonishment poped when looking outside. Dense, green trees around him turned into mud overnight. A string of an ironical insanity rose within the male again. "So everything is shifting all the time and can kill me any moment? Yeah, I'll add that to the list." Walking through the mud wasn't the easiest of tasks. Especially when all vines acted like trip wires for his feet. There were times where Harry wondered if those weren't traps put there on purpose. The whole forest acted... alive. And if that's how it was going to play, then that's how Harry was going to treat it. "Are you going to give me something to eat today?", he said to the forest as much as to himself. The male's supplies should be enough for about a week. Resources wouldn't appear on their own without warning. Probably. Harry had to walk past a bush three times to notice pink spots coating it. Although pink looked more like poison than food, he couldn't care less right now. He didn't need to eat right now, but he needed some kind of trophy. A physical proof that he gained something. That wandering in the middle of nowhere which could kill him any moment had some kind of meaning attached to it. He needed it. He needed the meaning! Before he could calm down, Harry had a pawful of the stuff. Now, the harsh thing was getting back home. The male angled his body in a turn-back motion. The terrain behind him was a dry savanna, but with much more trees than a savanna should have had. Harry cursed under his breath. Why didn't he expect that? For many hours, the male wandered through strange pseudo-tundras, moving sounds and mud. All this while moving in circles. Traced his steps which disappeared, or changed locations. The sun was starting to set when Harry had an idea. "1..3..8...pulse" He turned around. Chilling wind gave his scales a frostbite, but Harry didn't care. "You can only trick the blind, huh?" Without blinking, without turning around, Harry stepped back to a familiar rock. He was standing in mud. Yes, he was very close. When he looked close enough, the male could see little dark spots marking where he came from. A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He was so close. Was that it? His little accommodation like a spot on the edge of vision. Harry could not believe it. He wiped his eyes, looked up and... arctic wind blew him straight in the face. "Damn it!", he roared and sat himself down. Something inside Harry was starting to crack. Only insane could make sense of a place like this. His claws were shaking, breath fast. His wings closing tight behind his back. That was when he saw it. A tail. Long, scaly appendage, pink in colour. Pulsing pain appeared in his head. Vision dimmed. Harry groaned, lowering his head. No way that he would give up now. Not after he reached so far. The male used the last bits of force to stand up. He followed the tail. Tundras, muds, strange rocks and shifts. They didn't matter any longer. Often, he would himself doing a perfect circle and ending up in a different place. Turning around 7 times to progress. The tail seemed to be getting closer. Harry reached for it with a claw. His grip picked up a scale. He pulled and... his head smacked against his home. "Ouch", he mustered as all became black.
  22. Flower Festival - OPEN This city was bustling already as the sun broke over the horizon. There was no need for decorations as the port seemed to be cascaded in flower petals from various blooms. The daiyokai’s presence could easily be felt anywhere within the city. Her yoki thrummed gently, coaxing flowers to blossom prettily in the morning light with celestial magic. Lanterns were hung through Caelum in anticipation of nightfall because the festival would not end until warmed sake was sipped and the sun fell behind the horizon again. The streets were alive with vendors with various goods to sell that ranged from fruit to weaponry. Outside Lady Akari’s estate, there were yokai vendors with specialized items. Kitsune had toys for children that could either play music, perform some magical trick, or be manipulated with their yoki or chi. In addition, moth yokai had demonic silk and thread for sale, and next to them was a spider yokai with kimonos woven from that same thread. It was sturdier than the human stuff and self-repairing. There was also a vendor with demonic armor; however, the person manning that cart was human. Within the estate, servants moved about setting tables outside while the kitchen was in overdrive. Desserts made to look like art were being prepared for the day and left the estate smelling sweet with an obvious floral aroma. There seemed to be a parade of demons and humans alike that came into the large estate to set up for various things ranging from tea ceremonies to traditional arts. Dancers, singers, and storytellers were all making their way into the demoness’s home ready to perform for thousands of curious citizens. Beverages: Desserts: - Hibiscus tea - Jasmine tea - Variety plate (Strawberry pudding, hibiscus-infused mousse, vanilla cupcake) - Green tea - Oolong tea - Blossom mochi - Rose tea - Éclair - Peach wine - Plum wine - Cherry blossom mousse - Blackberry wine - Moscato - Raindrop cake - Chardonnay - Matcha mushipan - Sake (warm or cold) - Yokai sake (warm or cold) Activities: - Sword Dancing - Drum Dancing - The Art of Storytelling - Floating lanterns: This is a city-wide event that will start an hour after sun-down where everyone writes down what they wish for on their lantern then lite the wick and let it float into the sky.
  23. There was much power here, this realm bled with the energies of the strong and weak force zones. Each hemispheric zone encircled a cavern-based environment that hosted the residence of something odd and of alien nature. The outer "spheres" governing the current planet of Viq'trul (which was surrounded by a blanket of nebulae and odd claw shaped galaxy structures, were of a modified, yet weak gravitational potency(possibly altered by some intellectual organism that could operate and manipulate the sciences to their will), thus causing a sort of soft attraction effect that could pull down celestial and cosmological "crust" or debris, however once it passes the first outer layer, it sort of hangs within an ozone cloud constructed of a dense electromagnetic force that literally rips apart the remains. Passing through the ozone clouds, the third sphere consists of a heavy atmospheric pressure that inflicts three phases(Deoxygenate, Static Blur, and Compulsion) upon entry for those that aren't accustomed to residency upon the planet. The first phase is shortness of breath, almost as if something is stealing the air supply stored within the lungs. The second phase is "static" vision. What this means ins't in relation to electricity or actual static, but actually the pressurized air particles begin to inflict a feeling of heaviness upon the eyes, causing the pupils to dilate, as well as the eyes themselves to go through a series of opening and closing. The third and final phase is that of the organism's body feeling the air particles "solidify" over the body, breaching past all three layers(Epidermis, Dermis, Hypo-Dermis), this causes the body to naturally fall faster towards the planet's surface, its a long fall that takes anywhere within the time frame of five days, to en entire two weeks before one can finally hit the ground. Upon getting close enough to the surface(about 5ft or so off of the ground), the air particles(as one comes close to completing their descent) begin to loosen up and calm down their compact and clustered behavior. The air particles, because of their loosened hold upon the organism's body, in turn causes the organism to "float" and plop against the ground. Once the organism officially makes contact with the planet surface(which they will be surrounded by vast plateaus, a small trace of their metaphysical existence(without their knowledge of such), will be imprinted into the planet. This metaphysical trace will allow said organism to travel back to the planet of Viq'trul through means of a crescent moon shaped mark upon their body somewhere(randomly manifested). The metaphysical trace also splits off and surges through the first two layers of the planet's crust however no further. the first two layers of the planet are constructed of a thin, crystallized sheet of Neo-Platinum(Layer 1: Neo-Platinum) and Water(Layer 2: Water). This open part of the environment(surrounded by a random scattering of Neo-Platinum monoliths) favors lightweight organisms, as an organism of a heavy weight, would easily shatter the naturally brittle crystallized sheet. Middle weight organisms would be able to press down onto the crystallized sheet, but in the process would continuously dampen themselves with the coursing. cloud gray liquid underneath that would splash up in small droplets. During the colder seasons, the Neo-Platinum compacts together creating new molecular bonds that help to hold the weight of northern as well as southern migrations for the creatures such as the Opwalmee'Nu(which I will be revealing soon within my world), their bulky forms supported not only by the molecular bonding of new Neo-Platiniumeis, but also because the water is changed into an amorphous solid, specifically like that of a muddy substance. This is called Liquid Formula AW (amorphous water), the amorphous water layered underneath the compact Neo-Platinum is subject to state change during the hotter seasons, the heated air particles loosen up the compacted Neo-Platinum molecular bonds as well as heating up the amorphous water, this in the process causes two effects to take place. Because of the loosened molecular bonds of the Neo-Platinum, when organisms travel across it(depending on their weight as the Neo-PLatinum is almost super fragile), they may come across that the Neo-Platinum has broken off and even cracks apart like sheets of ice, drifting along helplessly as the "loosened" amorphous water carries it around(Effect 1). Whilst the amorphous water carries the Neo-Platinum and plays around with it, cellular debris of the Neo-Platinum sheets get mixed into the amorphous water, and because of the surrounding heated air, microscopic pockets are formed in the amorphous water, causing any cellular traces of Neo-Platinum to react by sprouting up a hot stream of thick, pressured air, before evaporating(Effect 2). The humid rain forests of Viq'trul are to be carefully traversed. It is best to go without carrying any sort of metals or super conductive materials(Metal weapons, aerodynamic crafts, etc), as the humid environment has given rise to evolved ions known as Plazarim Ions. These "special", evolved ions have three material states(Solid, Liquid and Gas), The liquid and gas states are highly reactant to metals or metallic materials due to that being a sort of fuel source that allows the ions to breed and produce new, healthy Plazarim Ions. There are pools of liquid Plazarim that act as "devouring quicksand", meaning that the longer you're in, the faster your body will decompose and deteriorate. It's best to have a traveling partner or some type of tool to help pull you out, because if you rush the process, the decomposition of your body will react with the same speed, if not faster. Below these pulls(which one won't be able to feel despite being trapped or otherwise within the "quicksand" are the next three layers, each one composed of different forms of Ezuplatin Minaeris. These minerals, prismatic in shape, almost resembling quartz, are produced through through the rapid combustion of fossilized bone(possibly Dinolium L; I will integrate later on) which is what is found in microscopic traces of each of the three layers of Ezuplatin Minaeris are Dinolium L, Dinolium S, and Dinolium A, each mineral layer having the fossilized remains of a specific dinosaur-like creature that inhabited the planet approximately 17.4 billion years ago. Next, we have the oceans completely composed of ever changing Plazarim Ions, the solid form freezing over with small pockets of air during the cold seasons, while a liquid state is achieved through the hotter seasons. The planet of Viq'trul is under constant evolution, almost as if something, possibly the essence of the planet itself(if any), has begun to awaken from its eternal slumber.
  24. There was much power here, this realm bled with the energies of the strong and weak force zones. Each zone encircled a cavern-based environment that hosted the residence of something odd and of alien nature. The outer "spheres" governing the current planet of Viq'trul were of a modified, yet weak gravitational potency, thus causing a sort of soft attraction effect that could pull down celestial and cosmological "crust" or debris, however once it passes the first outer layer, it sort of hangs within an ozone cloud constucted of a dense electromagnetic force
  25. The Broseidon Adventure There were few things Brah found more enjoyable than dropping a quart of nut chutney into a willing courtesan, one of those being largely an identical endeavor save for the courtesan’s willingness in the matter. Hey, he was as disgusted as the next guy with forcing a square peg (a really big square peg tyvm) into a round hole, but every now and then ball butter needed churning and by Riva, he’d see it done—come (lol come pun) hell, or high water. So it was that the beautiful Brah stood atop the sandy surface of Alterion’s Golden Coast peering out at the vast expansive ocean churning and writhing before him. Well, if he couldn’t penetrate a courtesan the sea would have to do. Orders were orders, and Ocelot F. Royce hadn’t earned that middle initial by not fucking to death those that displeased him. Half lidded eyes studied the frigid depths before him. Even with a submergence alteria the water pressure would be a bitch and a half to maneuver in. Brah just hoped the people beneath the sea had pressurized tank cities. Aquatic humes he could get behind, but Fishmen were just downright disgusting. The call came to all TESA operatives in Alterion, demanding their presence and efforts in fuckstomping the literal shit out of a race of aquatic peoples who had either displeased Ocelot or requested aide or...who really listened beyond that point, anyway? Brah suspected that the entire mission was a blatant blitz for more territory. There’s been legends of people living beneath the sea and in the sky, in trees, just like in things. And if the Masons wanted to expand, who was Brah to stop them? Who was Brah to do anything but help them go forth and conquer? What limited information he did have pointed at a sizable settlement roughly in the eastern seas of Alterion that was ripe for stomping. Brah stooped over and stuck a long digit into the sands. Once enveloped by the cool damp earth beneath the dusty top layer, he grunted and shivered. He bent in an almost impossible fashion, his wild straw colored locks practically between his boots, the lithe lanky body folded almost completely in on itself. With a groan and a satisfying series of popping joints, Brah stood to his full height and shook his hand clean, wiping the small granules of sand off against the bottom of his coat. More than a little heartbroken at the prospect of missing yet another evening with an Alterian lady of the evening, Brah began wading out into the frigid waters. Other TESA operatives received the call, of that he held no doubt, but he’d not dawdle for them. Besides, if he completed the job solo, the laurels and monetary gains were his to squander as he saw fit. Now waist deep in the waters, Brah activated the submergence alteria and disappeared beneath the rising swell. He wasn’t sure what to expect in his journey below, but he doubted it would bore him. And, hey, worst case scenario he’d be killing fishmen and who didn’t love fresh sushi?
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