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  1. Khepri's feet traversed the familiar, invisible path that wound through the sand. The giant tusked beast that walked beside her carrying all she needed, except water, she trusted the beast to find water - and it usually did. White and red paint decorated it, marking it as her's, around its neck and tusks hung the bones of small animals she gathered. The clacking sound they made kept away the sand cat's, big ferocious animals that preyed on anything that moved or breathed. Their expert feet easily walked across the sand and around the bones of long dead beasts that didn't survive the harsh heat during the day and the cold at night. After 5 years of exile she could finally return. 5 long years of selling her sword and her talent to make a meager living. That was the custom after all, 5 years in the outside world would at least erase some of her "shame." Now she could return to her temple and resume her rightful place, priestess to the high Sun Goddess. The long days of travel were hard, the heat welcome, but uncomfortable after her time in a milder climate. Her trained eyes spotted the tall lookout posts that marked the beginning of the main path to the temple. Typically two priestesses would perch there and keep a lookout for newcomers - good and bad ones. Khepri let out a chirrup sound, a common way for Priestesses to alert the others to their presence. Eerie silence met her ears, she tried again and yet still no response.... Something was horribly wrong. Khepri clambered her way up the gajah and urged it into a run. Its feet eating up the sand and creating a dust storm behind them. She covered her mouth and nose with her wrap and pulled from the void her sword, prepared for trouble....As she passed the guard posts, she noticed that there were no lookouts, her sisters were not there - even more strange. She urged her gajah even faster and the sandstone temple came into view, the wall that protected it looked crumbled and broken in places. As she burst through the broken main gate, a cry ripped from her throat. The temple was abandoned - the once carefully tended and lush gardens destroyed. The sounds of song and work were gone. She entered into the temple to find it was looted, destroyed, only the outer walls stood and the rest inside was burned. Even more egregious was the smashed remains of Sun Goddesses statue, her ever burning flame snuffed out. Instead - in her place - stood a crude statue of a man. One she knew all too well, the very one that caused her shame. With an angered yell and a swing of her sword she removed the head off the crude statue and swore on the Sun Goddess that her temple would be restored. This once peaceful place amidst chaos and war and cruelty. The one oasis built to aid any and all that were faithful to the Sun Goddess. The only place that had the clear cool spring to provide a steady flow of water. It now lay in ruin, the charred bones of her sister's scattered about. She crouched, picked up the skull of her fallen sister, placed her forehead to it and let out an anguished cry, mourning her loss. Khepri would spend the day gathering their bones and properly burying them in the depths of the temple. Next she would restore the Sun Goddesses flame, the oil stores left untouched in their hidden cove. As the sun set she wrapped herself in warm furs - a luxury that she obtained from the places she traveled - and she plotted the downfall of the godessless bastard that destroyed her life not once - but twice.
  2. The small village of Frostfall sat between the borders of what had once been Ballard Bay and the Cold South. While its appearance was rather rustic, it had been one of the more recent villages to receive the full weight of the Corvinite’s technological support and advancements. Provided with electricity and running water, the hope was to raise the quality of life. All to gain the favor of the people, showing them that the Imperial government under Neronius valued them as much as they valued their own. So far, it seemed to have been working, whatever unrest that did happen was minimal, at best. The places a favorable light on the man known as Neronius and the vast imperium as a whole. Snow still clung to the southern reaches, pristine white blanketed the surrounding grounds and the rooftops. While to the North the snows had already begun to melt, if only in the areas where the snow could reach; thawing the ground and readying itself for the planting season. Here, such was not the case. The snows took longer to melt, and in the extreme south, still fell. Spring came slowly here, and did not last overlong. It was short and rainy, which presented its own problems. Still the people here survived, and were some of the most hardy people in Genesaris. It was in this village that Blackwatch had found itself, their first mission since abandoning Patia and its unworthy monarch. It had been through a contact of his own that he had managed to swiftly move away from Terrenus. Not only from under the Patian king’s own nose, but the noses of his own men. They didn’t know why he had ordered them to the eastern coast of Terrenus, believing that is was another independant mission. It was only after collecting all of them in one room, with sigils and wards for privacy and protection; that he revealed his intentions. They had been shocked to say the least. Many had already grown tired of the king’s ways, his lack of action. Others it had taken some convincing, but ultimately they too saw this as a chance to do something of worth. They all knew of Corvinus, the former Roanist knight that had defected to Orisia, then ultimately too moved on. Building his own throne and empire in his image. Not only had he already accomplished such a great feat, he had moved to make so much more. For soldiers without confidence in a cause, or a worthy monarch; this was an attractive place. So here they had come. The entire Blackwatch Company had rented out the massive inn at the center of town, the mayor's own business. They had also rented out quite a few other homes that had been empty since the Whispernight. It was here that Llewelyn, Captain of the Blackwatch Company; resided with the numerous other officer.He sat at a long table, a map stretched out before him depicting the entire region. They had been sent here after being refitted, this was to be a chance to prove their seriousness and ability. Simple though it was, this Monster Hunt was a valuable political tool for Neronius. He had already made plans to mobilize several units to travel around the countryside, sending regular messages of where a large grouping of monsters or beasts were spotted. Then they would group together as one and smash them. Now he simply waited for the officers of important to join him, as well as a few newer members. Two young girls. One the daughter of his contact, the other quite the esteemed one. Princess Novalie, the daughter of Corvinus. Why he would have her sent to him was a mystery, perhaps a show of trust. Or a test. Either way it didn’t matter. He sat back in his chair, armored arms crossed before his chest. He was a handsome man, stern in jaw, long black hair swept back. He had an eye patch, covering the damaged socket from an orc long ago. His appearance made the locals wary enough not to approach his table. @Aleksei @Maverick
  3. 1678AY, 3 November It seems that not all of Athentha was ever discovered. New cities are appearing faster than I can acquire writing down. Firsr Valhalla Heights and now Fa'Xue. How many more are undocumented? Was Miach's rule so chaotic no one kept track of such issues or land? --H.H. Dylan, Excerpt from Book V, Athentha's Bloodied Past It was true that many cities were forgotten during the island's past and now were popping up again. Yet this was not a bad thing as it meant find new places, people and things that could help shape and fight the current issue at hand. Fa'Xue could be cruical in either aiding the princess or destroying her. No one knew yet what it held besides a crystal. For even the famous historian H.H. Dylan knew nothing about the city and he had been everywhere from Athentha to Allia and everywhere inbetween. So what did this city hold? Secrets to killing the legendary beast? Treasure untold? Armies of power beyond the elders and even the princess herself? That's for you to explore and find out. Note: I will not be writing to this one. It's an explore quest to find whatever you want of this unknown city. If you need a npc I will however play that part. Good luck and have fun.
  4. Then: Renting out an entire coffee house wasn't something that they'd normally waste money on. However, in this particular instance it benefits her. The unrest in Tia makes her uncomfortable, and while there is probably a good argument to be made to stay out of the city, its location is advantageous. The interviewer sits with hands clasped around a cup of tea. Carefully, gingerly even, she brings it to her lips and takes a sip. The moist heat soothes her throat and breaks up the building congestion in her nose. Or maybe it was the hints of mint that trick her nasal passages into opening just a bit more? Or perhaps it is all in her head? Ultimately it didn't matter, psychosomatic or not, so long as there are results it is irrelevant. The cup clings against the saucer as she sets it down. A few blinks later and she reaches for a pen and pad. Satisfied with the overall setup she finally looks up toward the applicant across from her. @Alexei "Very well." Her voice is rough, horse, and broken, vaguely reminiscent of a blender breaking down as it tries to grind up gravel. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm still getting over a head cold." Her face brightens as she snaps her fingers. "Almost forgot!" The exclamation is punctuated by her reaching into her bag and pulling out a small folder. Tossing it onto the table, she flips it to the first page. "Ah yes, sorry about that." She makes a few notes in the folder before finally locking her gaze with the applicant. "State your name, country and city of origin please." She pauses long enough to let him answer, as well as to jot down his response. "Very well, so what would you say your greatest weakness is?" Then: Brown locks sway to the side as she cants her head into her left hand. Her eyes lazily work over the menu before she finally tosses it the side. "I'll have a glass of Dougton pinot noir please." A waiter nods, collects the menu and walks of. Gazing at the numerous full tables and the line of people out the door, she silently thanks the stars that they were able to get a reservation. A few minutes later the waiter returns with their drinks.Taking a sip of the wine, she finally acknowledges the man across from her. @Impulse "Well then, would you mind telling me a little about yourself?" Her inquiry is made as she sets a notebook on the table and pulls a pen from behind her ear. A few scribbles are made, scratches of shorthand to look more like random lines than anything intelligible. "So, what would you say your greatest achievement is?" With the question posed, she takes another sip of wine. Now: Ashton sits a the edge of a stack of crates, his feet lazily kicking back and forth. Across from him a sailor continues to ramble, rant, and rave about the great treasure of Ponkapoag Lake. "Really? You don't say." His head tilts as his visage twists with quizzical lines. "I can't believe something like that exists. Sounds like a real Holy Grail." "Yeah, it is. I've never seen it mind you. And most people who go looking for it never comeback. But one guy did find it once, if the rumors are believed. Deep in the caves below the lake. Supposedly, though, it has been returned." Ashton slips from the crates and takes a few steps closer to the sailor, "How do you know that?" He bends slightly, gaining a better look at the sailor's face. "Well, my cousin's friend's, uncle's, sister in-law's, Grunkle's, girlfriend's, step brother claims to have seen it while spelunking. He apparently goes to the Gaian Academy. He barely made it out alive though. The chalice was surrounded by nearly a hundred treasure chests and when one of his friends went to open one, it turned into a mimic. Chances are, they're all mimics." Ashton's shoulders rise and fall as he shrugs at the statement, "Chances are, the chalice is a mimic too. Still... might be worth looking into." Reaching into his pocket and securing a few gold coins, he hands them to the sailor. "I've got a couple friends coming to meet me at the docks. How about you take us up the river and to the lake, in your boat?" The man thinks it over for a few minutes before nodding. "Sure, business has been slow lately. I can use a little side work."
  5. 'Twas a typical day, nothing too interesting. The sun rose, the roosters sang their wake up calls, and the town of heroes and veterans awoke. Granted, not all were strong independent warriors or fighters, some were just there to live, since it was a nice place. However, this town was home to many brave adventurers, as many traveling merchants or wizards walked past with a new tale, rumor, or dungeon that needed to be explored and looted. That is what brought you here. The town name is not important, because that's not where this will take place. The day started like any other, merchants and others came by, telling brave adventurers stories and quests no one could resist, but today... today was different. One man, a man dressed in a black cloak, came by. This man didn't look suspicious. He didn't look like he meant harm, but he did look like he knew something he both feared, and enjoyed. This man started shouting, oh was he excited. Excited to share the place of where this story takes place. His voice seemed raspy, and old, but that didn't stop him. He was clearly someone with a challenge. "Come over all who find themselves to be true brave, strong, adventurers! I have found a great mystical and treacherous dungeon! But beware! BEWARE I TELL YOU!! Only those strong enough will be able to live through this... place... BUT WAIT!!! IF you manage to survive, great treasure awaits you. NOT JUST TREASURE, but mystical items that can do many things. Things that make you fly. Things that make you unseen. And things... oh great traveler... things that give POWERRR! Oh-ho-ho, but not just good things. You'll need to be careful, you see, for there are also many cursed items that will strap onto you, and suck your life away slowly... AND many creatures that will try to kill, and mangle, your corpse. NOW I SAY!! Who here is brave enough to know the location of such a place?" Dear reader, do you think you are strong and capable enough to survive? Or will you be another onlooker, and nothing more? Anyone is welcome, so what is stopping you?
  6. With things in one world being erased or something destroyed in a timeline there is a weight lifted upon this entity disappearing. However, It is not as if this weight is completely gone, it must remain but, in a different time or place maybe. In the the world Arcanian, the greatest deal of entities are transported. Eventually, empires and cities began to form in what was once an empty void. The magic here is so great that beings from other places or worlds can be ripped from that reality and brought into this one. This is what the Arcanian tournament came from. There is a great deal of mages in this world who by nature are competitive. Using this power to move entities from world to world, they began to fight each other in a style of friendly competition which is now known as the Arcanian tournament. But now, many wish to abuse this power and will stop at nothing to bring Arcanian's downfall. But the gods prefer that not to happen, and they decide to bring in new heroes by force if necessary. That is where your story begins. Well, I've taken enough time, i'll leave you to it... The world of Arcanian as described is a void, but because of the amount of magic here the void can be manipulated into an almost infinitive world. At least for those who have the capability. You are now a resident of Arcanian and may choose to live here how you like. You could be a shop owner, a competitor in the Arcanian tournament, or even a criminal if you truly want to. (To be continued)
  7. Talia, the large island that sat under Athentha and Lyonesse remained silent, looming. They never got involved with the affairs of either island. But in the current wake of the demons, more and more appearing, the land couldn't sit quiet. Not any longer could it remain neutral to its sister islands waging war and killing innocents. In it's heart Talia needed to stand with what was right. The destruction of the Sakimura's last remaining child. She was the danger now, and not because the elders said so. Talia witnessed the horrors that came out of Athentha. Demons awoke and arose throughout Talia's cities destroying the peace they had enjoyed. They had no saviour, no demon hunter. They only had themselves and their knights. It was time to act, to reclaim their home. And it began with cleansing the demons from the island. The people would run through with weapons, taking down any demon they saw, even at theown cost of their lives. The land would burn. Saved from the darkness. If only that was true.
  8. Art by artbytheo The Cap and Bells is an open air market situated between Weland and Marlboro Keep. It is a temporary town made up of mobile market stalls and caravans which, as a whole entity moves further north or south depending on the season; the warmer it is, the further sound the market can be found). As its infrastructure is transient, it provides no local law enforcement, no civil services, taxation, and so on. Things like camps, food, and entertainment are all available at prices which are set at the discretion of the provider. If there is a territorial or property dispute it is always settled privately. Players are free to make up NPC small-scale operations for their plots in this thread. Since the beginning of the civil war in Terrenus, the more exotic and expensive items have all moved to affected areas with a larger and more desperate population to sell to, meaning that supplies at Cap and Bells currently skew more towards the commonplace, but the flow of funds is already picking up, which will see the return of exotic goods. OOC thread Current stock Fabric and textiles Weapons and armor Food and provisions Liquor and gambling Camping Alchemist Growth Alchemist arc (24 posts total) Alexander and Gerald get (1) Stoneskin potion each and a skilled Alchemist as a player contact Gauntlet data arc (6 posts total) Sandhi helps Justice make a tracker for the powerful presence radiated by the gauntlets of Zengi Resurrection an assassin arc (15 posts total) Eldwine Wyrmwalker Dali hires Jalafrax, a necromancer, to bring back a corpse he has ferried over so that the zombie can be interrogated. Eldwine gets the information he's after and Jalafrax, for a discount to his fee, gets a zombie assassin bodygyard
  9. What are we going to do with her? What do you mean? Beyond the fact she eats everything, she is a squire. What’s her skillset? Her skillset? She doesn’t have one, that’s what is beautiful about it. How do you figure? She is a canvas, blank and pure, ready to become something absolutely wonderful and amazing or something unimaginably horrifying. There is infinite potential. It is up to us to help her find her way. That’s what leadership is, helping someone blossom into the best version of themselves. Empowering them to greatness. That sounds nice, but theory and practice are never the same. The trip from Last Chance to the Hills of Noddendoddy couldn’t possibly be any longer unless they had decided to make a pitstop at Patia along the way (Patia is completely out of the way) but it afforded Lyr and Ashton an abundance of time to not only become better acquainted but to also begin discussing her future within Justice. In fact, by the time they had traveled from Last Chance to Palgard, Ashton had become so intimately familiar with her dietary needs that he develops both a small debt and a training regime built around a constantly reoccurring snack time. Jericho, She eats a lot. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot. I physically can’t outfit the carriage with enough food. I can’t afford to feed her. I don’t even know where she puts it all. The last time we ran out of food, she kept eyeing like she was going to take a bite out of my arm. In Palgard we stopped to restock and I decided to get ice cream, not only did she steal the ice cream from me, but she nearly took my fingers off. She also ate the wax coating on a cheese wheel, along with the entire cheese wheel. It was a five pound cheese wheel. I’m starting to have doubts. Sincerely, Ashton It was for this sole reason that rather than going from Palgard to Tia and then Casper, they instead hit Tia, Ignatz, Dougton, and then Casper. The stop at Ignatz was completely necessary so that they could pick up a handful of books on the fundamentals of magic at Odette’s library. Needless to say, the brief layover didn’t go without incident. Jericho, We owe Odette a few thousand gold. While looking for books at the library I lost track of Lyr. It was only for a few minutes. When I found her security was freaking out because she’d eaten a few pages from a priceless cursed tome on the origins of necromancy. As far as I can tell, Lyr is okay. When I asked her why, she said it smelled like truffles. I think I need help. Sincerely, Ashton Having intended for the layover in Dougton to be a few days so that he could go over some finer points of swordsman ship with her, Ashton was once more foiled. The locals ended up running them out after only a day and half. Jericho, I think she ate an entire flock of sheep in one night, raw. I can’t prove it. She doesn’t remember doing it. However, the locals insist that a flock of sheep are missing and that someone saw her out in the fields with them that night. I’m marginally concerned for my own safety. On a slightly related note. A few of the books I rented went missing. I haven’t ruled out someone stole them or that I misplaced them, but I’m also not ruling out that she ate them. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have my library cards revoked. Please help. Sincerely, Ashton Fortunately, relatively to previous events, the transit from Dougton to Casper was predominately uneventful. Having developed a battle rhythm, Ashton understands the limits of bother her attention span and her appetite. Or well, rather, understands that her appetite is limitless and that her attention span fades at a predictable and constant rate proportionate to the last time she ate, regardless of how much she actually eats. Of course, the one night in Casper has some minor complications. Jericho, I can’t do this. Please don’t make me do this. I know we need the rosebud and I know that you think this will be good personal development for Lyr and me. I understand that it is trust building and whatever else. I have been traveling with her over a week, she is a sweet and kind person. She has great moral convictions, but we can’t afford to feed her. I can’t afford to feed her. The burn rate on food is insane, we aren’t going to have enough supplies to make it through the Hills and back. I need help. Supplies airdropped in, more people with wagons of food, and a small party of people to make sure she doesn’t eat me in my sleep. If we airdropped her in Predator’s Keep, they would surrender to us within 24 hours because their edible and nonedible supplies would be gone. I’m not joking. She is a weapon of mass consumption. Sincerely, Ashton P.S. We owe a fishing company a lot of money. She ate their entire catch. Like their hull was filled with fish and now it isn’t. Upon reaching the outskirts of the Hills of Noddendoddy, Ashton made the unwise decision to camp there for the night. The next morning, while unexpected, didn’t surprise him. Dear Jericho, I hope this letter finds you in good health. I suspect that this is the last time I’ll be writing to you for some time. I also suspect it will be several months before we see one another again. We made it safely to the outskirts of the Hills and made camp because it was late. When I awoke this morning, the horses that were pulling our carriage, as well as the driver, were missing. I don’t know if she ate all three of them or not. I don’t really care at this point. I’m going to get the stupid rosebud, keep her from eating it, and then shove it down your throat when I get back. You have terrible ideas. This was a terrible idea. I don’t like you very much right now. I hope you sit on a tack. Sincerely, Ashton P.S. If she tries to eat me, I’m stabbing her. P.S.S. Please send supplies. Ashton sighs as he rolls up the piece of paper and attaches it to a raven’s leg. “Hurry, fly out of here before she tries to eat you.” The command as given as he tosses the bird up into the air. He follows it for a few minutes, watching it fly off into the horizon. Digging through the luggage attached to the cart, he begins to sort supplies. A backpack is loaded up with basic necessities: food, poncho, compass, map, shovel, sleeping bag, lantern, and paracord. In addition, several water bottles are attached to the outside of it. External pockets are fitted with a random assortment of other gadgets and tools that might otherwise benefit a stranded survivor. Shouldering the pack, Ashton raises his left hand up to shield his face from the morning sun as he measures its position in the sky. “It’s about a quarter of the way to zenith. We need to get going.” Pivoting toward Lyr, while dropping his hand, he motions with a wave for her to follow him. “Come on. Grab yer stuff and let’s get to getting.” The trek starts out silent, but it doesn’t last. “When we were in Casper, I heard a rumor that a few years ago small group of people not only found the artifact, but supposedly destroyed it too. I guess its healing powers are beyond supernatural though, because about a month ago someone spotted it embedded in an Ent.” Reaching into the side pocket of his pack, Ashton pulls out a bar made from dried fruit and crushed nuts. Snapping it into twos, he offers one half to Lyr. He’d made sure that her pack didn’t have any food in it. Although there was not telling what her grubby little fingers had shoved into her pockets when he wasn’t looking. “Month old information isn’t very useful, so we might be out here awhile. Trying not to eat everything within the first five minutes… please?” There is a near whining plead to his voice. What others might have assumed is a joke, was in fact a sincere and honest concern.
  10. Upon entering through the front double door entrance, the layout of the main lobby looks relatively simple. The ground level floor is devoted to the tavern aspect of its business. Standing at the door, Patrons can see a clear path straight towards the bar situated against the far back wall, with smaller walk ways littered through the many table sets split into two sections on the left and right of the main walk way. On the immediate left from the front door, secluded off in the corner there’s a stone mason fireplace. Lounging in front of the fire place is a single old rustic couch and two love seats comprised of leather on either side facing inward on a stretch of rug. Complimenting the immediate left fireplace is one on the right side as well with its accompany seats. Several lacquered tables dot the tavern, each with its own distance of seclusion. With the bar stretched along most of the back wall, following the polished wooden bar to the left one would find the stairs leading to the second floor in a spiral of stairs. Towards the middle behind the bar counter lingers a simple framed wooden door leading to the spacious, but rarely seen kitchen. On the immediate right end of the bar is a simple stage where musicians and singers command the presence of the patrons. The rune-marked interior for soft lighting, with its dark walls, sturdy furniture and its spacious but private layout conveys a sense of comfort and welcome. The tables and floors are kept clean, even if a bit scoffed up, but the beer is cold and the food is hot while the locale is rich with adventure. -- Welcome to the bawdy Cut and Jib, aptly named for the Tavern and Inn where most adventurers gather before making off on their next big quest. It was founded by a Terran-born family, and has remained a favorite. Infamous for the local heroes who have lived and died for their adventures, this has become the hub for all manner of communication, send-offs and welcome-homes. Here locals and foreigners from abroad meet to see if they like the cut of a person’s jib. Coordination is key, after all, when collaborating with a group for gold and glory. Though the staff do their best to attend to all, some seedy and unsavory people slip through the cracks so be on your guard. The Enforcers are never far to break up a brawl so be wary with whom you keep for company.
  11. A group of interesting individuals, go on a quest to solve the murder of a zombie. The story revolves around a strange obsidian ring.
  12. OOC rules: The magitech expo in Tazarek ended, with Rai getting a new mechanical spider that she named Spinny. Where would her next adventure be? She had overheard people talking about the Moonwood, where fairies were supposed to live. They even said that a material could be found there that can make a person fly! Wow! She would definitely like to see that! @supernal
  13. (First time on this site so yea) *Vynellin would be at the bar counter talking to the bar keep about pay. He would have asked if there was any new jobs opening up at the time. He would also have just a glass of wine infront of him as well as a steak. Seems he brought the steak in him self.* Well I only ask cause the current job while pays good isnt my type of thing I like to do. So yea that is all. But thank you anyways. *With that hed go and find a table. He wouldnt go into the corner hed just find a empty table and sit down in it and begin to eat his food and drink his wine.*
  14. Hello, and welcome to Fight Academy, a school for the gifted or those with near-genius to genius intellect. My name is Clash Fa. For those of you who have not yet made their way through Combat 101, I will be your instructor. The academy is split up in-to two teams, Team A and Team B, who will do battle with one an-other. Select your team and choose your weapon! Team A: Clash Fa Team B: Sleeping Knight
  15. 1678AY, 5 June Absolon, Athentha Thursday, 10:00A.M A steady rain fell as the morning hours drew breath. But the rumor of war was on everyone's lips. That this time it couldn't be stopped. As the rain continued to fall, the people crowded the castle that resided in Absolon and housed the elder that was supposed to be peotecting them. The townsfolk had gotten wind that the elders of Allia and Talia had been murdered by a rogue beast. And yet they feared it would come here. With Lyonesse's temple destroyed and the shaman killed, Athentha's people had little hope. They feared that they would get caught up in the war without a way out. But as Yazu approached the balcony, they wanted answers as what was going to happen. Would they all be killed or enslaved to the beast? Could they kill it without the shaman or temple? Didn't they restrain her? Seal her away if that was the only answer? The people wanted something to comfort them. Yazu sighed. Being an elder and leader of the island meant he had to tell the people something even if it wasn't comforting. Yazu opened the doors that led out to the balcony as he eyed the townsfolk, most here relying on the elder to solve their problems, others wanting to know if they had a plan. Most wanted answers. The elder stood as he placed his old hands on the wood that lined the balcony, eyeing the people. He knew that he had done a somewhat good job here, but he coyld do better to try and reassure them. Even if he lied a little. "My dear citizens. I know you're afraid, frightened because of what has happened. We have lost so many good people to a monster allowed to remain. We have lost our tools to stop her. But I assure you that we can win this war. That we don't need those old tools. We are researching new ways to combat the rogue princess. And we will win the war against her. Our knights are meeting up with the pocket of resistance in Hydra." The townsfolk didn't know how to respond. Didn't know how to feel about this announcement. And they stood there staring at their leader. He was suppose to be their leader. Yet he was hiding something. He didn't reassure them enough and as Yazu turned to go back in, a young elven maiden came forth. "How does that help us now? You say that a war is breaking out, we have no means to defend ourselves and the enemy could take more of us. What do you plan to do? You're supposed to be our leader. Protect us. What are you doing to make sure no one else is taken? Killed?" Yazu sighed. She was right. Of course he didn't have all the answers. But he was working towards them. He would let them in on it soon enough. He looked over his shoulder towards the elf. "I am doing everything to make sure you are safe. A knight is posted at every entrance to every city of Athentha. There are checkins of whatever is brought in. Curfew is at 10pm, meaning no one is to be outside after that. And if you see the princess, do not engage her, find a knight." With that he headed back inside leaving the townsfolk standing there. Not sure what to accept. In truth, they were afraid of what was coming. A monster who wanted to tear them all apart. War was inevitable now.
  16. [Recap] In these past events, the Kingdom of Taurus and it's Ruler has seen much change. Seeking answers in regard to his origins and his fathers legacy, Proteus Rauz found himself exiled to the Celestial Realm---Where the Absolute Authority, confines and contains the remaining progenitors of his race. Time stood still there... he was subjected to their test, trials and tribulations and experimentation, meanwhile the kingdom and home he knew would be devoid of his presence for over 1,000 years. Proteus' liberation came at the expense of the captives lives. Destroying the last remnants of his bloodline, retaking prized possessions destined for his ownership and flinging himself back across the planes of existence and back home where he emerged anew. Proteus Rauz had emerged Anew. Changed. Different. Not only was he far older, hardened even, his powers had grown exponentially as did his control over them. His views and outlooks on his path and those of his people had also been altered. Having established a relationship with the powers that be in the lands of Alterion, Proteus, under his own power had moved the entirety of his kingdom from the Lands of Genesaris, to the Spirit Realm of Xaengri-La. Where he would be free from mortal observation. Where his prominence could have neither positive or negative effects on the lands surrounding his kingdom, so that no balances could be tipped or disturbed and that no other governing body could benefit nor suffer. However, even as he established his kingdom, and their outer realm territories, Proteus Rauz' ideals and goals have widened and expanded. He had become somewhat of a Nihilist, embracing what he had discovered what his original intent and reason for being was. TO BRING ABOUT DEATH AND DESTRUCTION, TO ALL. His re-emergence , and return to the throne under this new ideology has put many of his closest ally's and family at an unease, Even the Queen, Priscilla---His birth mother, and the one who worked the hardest to bury the secrets of Bulls origins and true nature, has found herself at her absolute wits end as to how to guide or manager her son, and after his re-emergence, far to under-powered to force anything upon him. So silently she has watched, ever so diligently as Proteus sets about procuring the knowledge needed to accomplish his goal. His one true ideal, his one true intention----TO BECOME DEATH ITSELF. [And now....] His throne room used to bathe light. Every square inch of it, illuminated from the free flowing light from yonder. That has drastically changed. Large metal shutters existed where windows once were. They kept this place devoid of light. It was insulated, sounds were equally scarce save for that of the constant HUM of raw unbridled power flowing through 4 massive umbilical cords that ran beneath the ground up behind his throne and into a custom fitment that affixed into hard points on his back. The ONLY light present within this rume was from the Rune Brands aglow along his body in a blood red hue. It was there that he sat. His body constantly absorbing and harmonizing the seemingly limitless ebb and flow of spatio-temporal-anima present in the limitless expanse of this spiritual realm. Disconnected from his people. Departed from a society that he helped to sculpt and once coveted, but nowadays, feared him as they never have before. The Council had long been killed and disbanded by his own hand save for one who squandered away still within the confines of their prison. In truth there was only one thing that could keep Proteus situated as he was now. He had no intent on moving, nor a desire to do so because simply put he was waiting on something. That something was coveted. Desired and favored above anything at this time and it was the only thing that eluded him these days. It was pure. It was valued by anything and everyone be they Man, King or God. There was nothing exempt from it's benefit and there in it lied no TRUE face value for it, but there was also no limit to what would be expended for it. Knowledge. Plain and simple. He needed the means and understanding as to how to go about achieving his goal---which for the most part was thought to be inconceivable and impossible, however, when the Absolute authority. The Omnipotent one. "The Creator" himself, assures you that such is NOT beyond the realm of a being such as himself----You take that notion for what it's worth. There was one individual who had such knowledge, or at least could point him in the direction. This being, is and always will be favored. His most beloved. One to whom he trusted the most. Covets the most. Priscilla...The Queen, and his mother. Despite who she was to him she has also coincidentally been the greatest source of obscurity and deception. The understanding of these facts and the dynamics of them all has left Proteus shifted in stance. Wavered, somewhat unsure. As a child he clung to her every word. She molded his beliefs, directed his ideals and aspirations, All for what?? To lie? To keep the truth away from him? For what purpose? Some selfish ideal of goal of her own? It was to much for him to understand. To much for him to process, and whenever his mother was around the King was nothing short of contrived. However....she held the keys, she knew the ways, and his current goals and aspirations although no favored by her, were goals she could help him achieve. So he sat....and waited. For her.. @Lacernella Rubra
  17. “Give me him!” Jolted awake by unfamiliar hands, Connor opened his rather green eyes to stare at the interruption to his much needed sleep. The infant had a sour scowl on his small brow, a homage to his father no doubt. He’d been warm and comfortable and safe in the arms of his brother, and to be snatched away from it all made him angry. A yell balanced on his frowning lips, something mighty and mean only a child of a Lion could create; he took in a great gulp of air and in a moment of grandeur the small babe screamed high over the festivities. Primera laughed at the dark haired, green eyed babe, clearly loving his response. Holding the sweet thing close to her chest, the red haired woman bounced him gently and spoke to him as if he understood her words, as if he could grasp the meaning of what she's saying. “Your mother gave you those lungs and your father gave you the words accommodating them. Here, my Black Lion, your words are law and your strength our strength.” She peppered kisses across his brow, soothing the wrinkles there before moving to his soft cheeks moist with tears. “Renovatio is your domain! Here the moon wanes for you and the sun rises at your will. Tell me my Prince, would you like a crown of stars or should I leave them for all to adore? A garland of planets or maybe armour carved from the nights sky?” Desmond had forgotten Primera's exuberance two-fold, now only reminded of it as she raises his brother to the sky and speaks to him about stars and planets. He loved how Connor screamed for seconds before being swept away in the Grande Kommandant’s love and warmth, calming underneath her kisses and promises. “You spoil him any more and he'll be cashing in on your claims sweet sister.” The Imperial Prince nervously laughed to hide his random gasp in response to the woman throwing his sibling in the air. “Spoiled?!” She whirled on her brother-in-law, causing the fabric of her dress to billow beneath her like lazy clouds strung across an equally lazy sky. “Black Lion you are not spoiled, don't let your brother tell you such lies. You need not ask for anything, want for anything; you are Prince Grande, my True Love, my Everything - Absolute. You are not spoiled, you are you.” Connor looked to preen underneath Primera's interpretation of him. Tears dried and anger snuffed, the baby cooed and played with her hair, happy to be treated for what he is. Desmond was at a loss on what to do, so to occupy his now empty arms he stuffed his hands into his deep pockets; a very tired smile wrinkles his handsome features, better accentuating his dark eyes and eager mouth. Connor has been a welcome balm to all their wounds, and he's delighted his Small Sister found peace in the infants sweetness. “He has grown too much these last few months. I'm not ready for him to walk yet, let alone talk! The things he's going to say.” Small conversation to fill the pregnant awkwardness surrounding them. “Primera, my Father…” how is he to say sorry? Corvinus was never one to mingle in crowds of unnecessary exuberance, only going to some because of his wife, and with her being gone … Primera nuzzled Connor’s neck, causing the small lion to squeal and giggle delightfully. The noise interrupted Desmond, leaving him silenced while the Grand Kommandant teased and tickled Connor, clearly more occupied with him then the events happening around them. And what an event it is. Avylon is alive. The streets full with people selling their wares, tripping over their finery due to the abundant drink in their empty bellies, and various games one usually find on the streets: card tricks, mind tricks, spells, and magic casting. Everywhere you turn there's an assault to the senses; the usual pristine streets of Avylon are covered in chalk ranging in color and shade. When walking the color is imprinted on your shoes, feet, gowns, and canes, forcing everyone to color their surroundings. If you're not safe, children already drenched head to toe with color, will throw buckets of chalk on you before running away. Foodstuffs flying out of every bakery and restaurant, feeding the eager people wanting to finally taste the wonders of Renovatio. Nothing, from drink to food to the entertainment, nothing cost a single cent. There was a time when Renovatio was known for its hospitality and love, and tonight Primera wants all to indulge to their full and more. The various gardens welcome any to take a few slips of the beautiful flowers for their own gardens; the carnival rides are continuous and eager to entertain child and adult. This is supposed to be a festival for the delights of strangers. Desmond can't help but admire the touch of love in each chandelier and flower vase. The great castle harboring most of the guests is a domed creation most would envy. Large windows open to the world, pillars supporting it's beauty with eagerness, golden crescent moons adding to the decor in admiration to their Goddess Steorra - it feels like home. Standing in the large dance hall he didn't feel nearly as lost as he first assumed he would. People flowed in and out like waves eating up a beach; too needy and far too curious to stay in one place too long, he noted the new arrivals and the departure of familiars. How amusing, he mused silently to himself. “Tell Corvinus he is welcome here.” It hurt to give the offer, but it felt right to do so. In the world of Renovatio the legend of lions and giants are common talk, and she knows that it may add more to the wounds in the God-Emperor's heart, yet to be surrounded by the things your loved one loved, she can't think of a better medicine to the hurt. “Only if he promises Connor to me.” She teased of course. “And what of your children?” Desmond reached for his brother, but she was a woman and she used that against him. Primera turned her naked shoulder to Desmond, bumping away his eager reach so that her back faced him. And what of her children? She didn't want the Prince to see the brief flash of anger and disappointment in her opal hues. “I have no children! You must be asking about your brothers brood.” He looked her over, tracing her silhouette with dark eyes, doing what hands wished to do. He loved her at once and it's been an issue since then and it's an issue now. She had floated towards him in a dress of simple white, wearing only a intricate circlet of white gold above her proud brow; she is perfection personified, and how much he hates his brother for being able to taste her and love her. The crystal staff that's been floating by her side was a gift from him (Desmond) to her, to give shape to the Will of Renovatio. It was a tall, beautiful thing with a crescent moon glittering at the top of it; he had wanted to gift her something that spoke of his silent, unrequited love, and to give her a weapon that better suited her. “No wrath like a mother annoyed. I hear Primero and Asher are doing well for themselves, and Ari is busy hiding in her books.” He plucked a glass of champagne off a passing waiters tray, needing something to cool his nerves and drown his sorrows. “They neglect their mother.” Desmond snorted at her pout hurled at him, almost staining the front of his dark suit thanks to the bubbly drink in his sinuses. “You can't just disown your children because they're busy solidifying their namesake.” “Try me.” Around them people danced, talked, and mingled in their group; music mingled with the conversations, making the room loud and booming. Not a single person, no matter their rank or the land they come to represent, would be given an introduction. This forced people to actually speak to one another and also to feel a little more comfortable approaching Primera. While she entertained Desmond and his brother Connor, the heir to All Things, she is an approachable woman who is already eager for new and awesome conversations.
  18. It was a rather calm evening. The last highlights of the sun's rays slowly creeped towards the horizon, signaling that the end of yet another calm day was near. It wasn't often that Mladris was able to take on the full beauty that the Cold Mountains had to offer her and she wasn't the only one. The snow lay undisturbed for the most part, covering the trees and the ground. Deer and other local fauna were out and about. The few trails in the snow made that apparent but they did not bother the dragon. They bore her no ill will unlike other creatures, humans were her main problem but she could handle them. She had observed none in weeks, not since she flew down to the ocean and came upon a rather curious band of individuals. One was a young woman, there was something unusual about her that she couldn't quite put a talon on. Definitely magic oriented. Then again, there are still quite a few creatures/beings that she was unfamiliar with. With a rumble, the dragon shifted from stomach up onto all fours and then began to move to the mouth of her cave. The sky was streaked with orange, yellow, red, and a hint of blue as the sun's retreat began to close to an end. The moon was beginning to make a appearance and it was full this night. "Hmm...a perfect time for a flight." She said to herself as she stretched her wings, flapping them a few times to get rid of the stiffness and then with one powerful stroke, she was in the air. Thud. Thud. Thud. The downward stroke of her wings caused the trees to sway back and forth as well as shaking the snow off of them. She maintained her current altitude above the treelike, just enough room for her wings to not skim the trees.
  19. No matter where he treads, the reactions are all the same. A lone being that identifies as human in form approaches several others with a aura seeping through his body. To everyone he encounters or attempts to approach, he is a large red flag this afternoon. No rage emits from each turn down, no emotional spectrum is highlighted, it's simply comfort over opinion. He isn't lost, for he has no home. He isn't starving, for he has no appetite. He is craving the words of someone brave enough...to point him to the nearest bar. "Assassin" A man mutters and scurries away. "Heretic" another says retreating. "Civilian" the authorities called him. There is a simple exchange of words between the masked man and the guards of justice, then after a finger point towards the north, they part ways. An hour of travel and the masked man is at it again, searching for another guide, he asks questions about directions to several landscapes, makes his way there, and continues on. No GPS, just plain old fashioned touring. "This is where out of work masters go?" He says to a random woman passing him by at a monument. The strangers keep themselves complacent. "Isolation" is the nickname his inner demon has given him. All of his hard work has led him to being dismissed from school, out of a job, and now on the road seeking a new course. His latest breakthrough has yet to undergo tests. He is very eager to demonstrate his power...but to what cause? A white wooden bench in the middle of the town. A nice place for him to unclip his "Dark Knight Awakens" book from the back of his belt and start his first chapter this sunny afternoon.
  20. The dark ruler, announced Lord of Vampires, Him of Crows ascended from his profound sleep right around a couple of months back in the Haunted Glen. Relics of shrewdness and exceptional power was the reason for his entry from the place he called the Underworld. It was there he procured the Chateau De Choisel, an mansion once colonized by a coven of local vampyre. Heavily protected by undead of assorted types, figures of grotesqueness, a few packs of spiritual apparition wolves, and the colossal interwoven tissue mass; a blundering monstrosity cobbled together from save parts in awkward satire of a human frame. It is even said that with the end goal for one to make it into the Chateau, one should discover it's way through the consistently changing hauntings of a labyrinth with only one true path. It wasn't long after until the point when he transformed the haunted bequest into what might be known as a Crack House and Feeding Sanctum for all to come enjoy their most out of control drugs or lusty fantasies in a prison chamber underneath the Manor itself. Just for a little expense, obviously. Volunteers whom served the standard of Choisel were compensated for their administrations, while numerous other people who wanted the private quarters without wanting to stress over their criminal treacherous exercises were charged every hour for said housing. Alongside his wake, he brought with him a large number of his coven from the House of Choisel. This enormity of man, demon, however more essentially, the Congregation of Kabbalat alluded to him as the Antichrist, vanquished all in which resisted his army, power, and his honored position as a leader of the Underworld. He crushed numerous mortal creatures, numerous proclaimed rulers and their kingdoms had fallen unfit against the oppression and mayhem that was delivered from the colossal Kronos of the Thirsty. A divine being among divine beings, the son of the devil, unadulterated with fiendishness and immortality as legend predicted it, this monstrosity was relentless in his rule of darkness curtaining over the lands. He conceded all and any the chance at an everlasting life, wealth for more noteworthy than any lord could offer thusly for their fealty, their souls, the taste and extravagance of their blood. Numerous would decrease such an offer considered crazy and unworthy, yet what they neglected to acknowledge in this supposed life and age everything had accompanied a cost. Nothing would be free, not even the air they inhaled, or the water they would drink. While others discovered this offering a possibility at recovery, to start over again, having something that was once never envisioned. Hundreds would accumulate under the Choisel House for the guarantees. They would find that what the man proposed was undoubtedly not a fabrication, they were given similarly as he said everything any man or lady who had never had such an open door, this was not a lie but rather a fact in his words. A dark legion would ascend over hundreds of undead fiends, wendigos, banshee, rotting cadavers, lost souls and vampires join under the lordship of that solitary element. His matchless quality over the Glen had turned into a power to figure, an alarming nightmare. With his control over the domain and thanks to his personal assistant and Doctor approached an ailment, the vampiric torment, otherwise called Elixurl Vietti or the Elixir of Life. In return for her administrations he set up a little facility for her work studies about and gave her vital subsidizing through various producing livelihoods. Publicized as a cure all remedy, this Exilir was advised to allow it's consumer imperishability and impeccable essentialness. From the Glen to fourty miles North in the Copper City known as Tia, this vial of thick and unscented red liquid was managed uninhibitedly at no cost to start what was known as the time for testing. Numerous which were wiped out and sick with hopeless infections and maladies went for this Elixir originating from all sides of Terrenus just to get it's 100% adequacy and free their infirmities which even specialists asserted meds couldn't cure. They weren't right. Not exclusively were the doctors off base, the general population of Terrenus had no clue on how they were really being freed free of what even the best specialists said was incomprehensible. One was to drink just a solitary seven milligram vial of the cure. In any case, this cure accomplished something other than cure their ailment. It transformed them into vampire under the summon of the unrivaled, Leinhart Choisel. Inside six to twelve hours of introduction, the casualty built up a cerebral pain, fever, chills and other influenza like side effects—and also an uncommon increment in digestion and heart yield as the infection spreaded all through the body. These indications were effectively mistaken for more typical contaminations. This stage by and large kept going another six to twelve hours. Stage one was known as the Contamination. Inside 24 hours of presentation, the casualty slipped into a vampiric extreme lethargies. Around 10 hours into this stage, the heart beat moderates, breathing is shallow and the understudies are expanded. Thousands have been buried alive along these lines. While it is usually trusted that anybody tainted transforms into a vampire, in truth just a little level of individuals survive the vampiric extreme lethargies. By and large, the youthful, old and weak never leave their trance states and in the long beyond words, by far most of survivors are males between the ages of 18 to 35. For the last gathering, the vampiric trance like state last about a day and commonly end around evening time, yet the previous statistic may wait for an extra day or so before death. Stage two was known as the Unconsciousness. A casualty who survived the unconsciousness stirred completely changed into a vampire. An acclimation period takes after—described by perplexity, depression and neurosis, alongside the distress of drying out and lack of healthy sustenance. Before long, a mind-boggling strive after blood assumes control and muffles every single other need and concerns. Inside 24 hours of change, the vampire deserted its previous life and start chasing—beginning with pets, and even loved ones, if require be. The last stage was known as the Change. It wasn't long after his welcome into Tia that he procured almost a thousand followers because of the establishing of said Elixir. An extensive bit of the Copper City had tumbled to his control, the lesser vampyre there were no match for the pureblood and his coven. Just on the edges of the Haunted, fifty miles underneath the Gaian Foundation raised a city once directed by a gathering of religious individuals. A victorian-esque town of old an antiquated. It was the main place noone would expect such a grave abhorrence to wait about. Crosses and religious symbols of godly imagery still stood tall as relics of the past, talking stories and legends that never again existed. These individuals were the first to attempt and foil his activities of populating the zone with vampires. Rather, they fell impressively, obliterating to fiery debris. This was truth to exposed witness that no Congregation of God could annul this creature. Presently overran by the House of Choisel, the place filled in as one of a few reserve spots for his criminal movements. The dark legion had amassed themselves there under what appeared to now be an endless Red Moon. Merely, it was just the beginning.
  21. (This is the general hub thread. It represents the entirety of the resort. Links will be posted to this post as event threads open up.) Winding up the mountain are a series of trails, trams, and lifts that create a web of ascents and descents that turn the once barren terrain into a work of modern art. The beauty certainly can’t be called natural by any stretch of the imagination, however there is definitely something breathtaking about it. At the nexus of all these pathways, near the zenith of the mountain, a massive complex of interconnected buildings sits in near solitude. At first glance they appear to be wood, maybe oak or maple. However, careful inspection reveals that they are brushed concrete, stained to look like planks. This is part of the charming illusion, for as fake as the wood is, so is the snow. The high altitude minimizes precipitation, but the ever industrious and crafty engineers of Wonderland Resorts ™ were delighted by this challenge and cooked up a wonderful concoction known as Everlast Snow ™. And so, it is, that there is never not snow. Fresh powdery, soft, not made of water, definitely never melts, could be toxic so please don’t eat it (please sign the waiver!), beautiful shimmering and glittering super white (racist white?), supersolid (So solid it is liquid! But not really.) snow. Of course, one doesn’t just come to a ski resort for not-snow ®. That would be preposterous, ridiculous, unimaginably foolish, and silly beyond all means of comprehension. When one abandons their comfortable lifestyle, their cushy chairs, and their nice warm homes to go barreling down steep, sleek, deadly mountain cliffs in an out-of-control slide at ungodly speeds, they are clearly looking to live a little, to indulge. Recognizing the needs of the people, Ross Edmund in all of his infinite wisdom, constructed not just one but five separate and unique structures centered around natural hot springs (Please don’t drink!) and possibly an active volcano (Geothermal power!). The most central of these and largest of these buildings is the Contrarier Ski Lodge, which is co-located with the second largest building, the Venin Tavern and Grill. At first glance the Contrarier appears rustic, but between every false wood panel, and two-way mirror, are numerous glyphs and runes which project holographic display across the floor and through the air. Weather updates, Daily Weekly Reports, as well as imported videos from other times and places dance across open spaces keeping visitors inundated with sights and sounds. There is a unique feel of past meets future which is only further reinforced by the numerous edgeless swimming pools that are fed directly by the hot springs and are inset into recesses and caves within the mountains side. And while the lodge has numerous estate rooms and suites, that none of you can afford, there is a huge common area for the commoners to gather for free and common-about. Firepits, heat lamps, fireplaces, plush couches, wooden chairs, and coffee tables, are scattered about, affording the tired and weary skier an opportunity to rest up, warm up, and drink up, mostly for free. As a compliment to the lodge, the Venin Tavern and Grill is both low tech and made from real wood! It features traditional wooden designs, such as picnic tables and benches. Although the Gargoyle Salad or Land Shark Pepper Steak are award winning dishes, most people come for the personal pizzas that you get with every purchase of a drink. Usually live music, (Lots of Tyler Slow cover bands) of the most trendy and popular variety is playing center stage, adding to the natural chaos of drunken revelry. Contrasting the simplicity of the tavern is Club Invidia. The club, which has a thumping bass from sunset to sunrise, is stylized as sleek and futuristic. The well-polished steel walls sharply contrast vantablack clad statues and pillars that decorate the dance floor. A constant fog rolls across the ground as lasers and strobes illuminate the dense cloud with a rainbow of colors. Cages rise and lower from the ceiling as stranger randomly climb into them to dance/dry hump together. And although it might be something of a hazard, hot tubs are inset into the floors along the edges of the walls, giving strung out dancers something to fall into. For those that need a break from the noise, Wonderland Resorts offers the Fastidio Water Park and the Supplice Spa. The Fastidio Water Park is a series wave pools, salt water tanks, mineral water hot tubs, and fresh water baths that are all connected by a series of lazy rivers and water elevators. Needless to say, as one drifts from one spot to the next, there is never a floating Tiki bar too far away. It’s often thought that the extreme and dynamic temperature changes between each larger body of water, as the water is all kept at different temperature, coupled with the fact that that hottest pools are kept outside in the frigid air, leads to a therapeutic type of thermodynamic shock that purifies the pores and rejuvenates the skin (Or gives you a heart attack, 50/50 really). And with all the fake palm trees around, you may even forget you’re on top of a mountain! (But probably not, it’s a little hard to breath up here.) For those with a little extra cash to blow, the Supplice Spa offers it all. Facials, mud baths, steam rooms, sensory deprivation tanks where you can have psychedelic trips as you get lost within your own mind, massages, electroshock therapy, and of course manicures and pedicures. Now for those of you that have come looking to feel alive, we’ve got two flavors for you. The first is Chapel Mensonge, which holds none denomination all faith worship services every Thursday evening, Saturday Morning, and Sunday Morning. Sometimes you just need your sins forgiven, sometimes you’ve found true love and just NEED to get married. Other times you are about to do something really stupid crazy dangerous and wouldn’t mind a combination blessing and baptism! Regardless of what your religious needs are, our Chapel can take care of them for you! (We also do Funerals every Tuesday!) But truth be told, no one goes to a ski resort and doesn’t ski. And so of course, you are always welcome to risk life and limb on our Verargern Slopes. These slopes twist and turn around rock outcroppings, shoot straight off of near vertical cliffs, and weave in and out of miles upon miles of trees. If you’re feeling a little more daring, our terrain park has jumps, bumps, rails, hoops, loops, flames, logs, enraged polar bears, monstrous hawks that will steal your small children, and enchanted snowmen that will pelt the ever loving crap out of you with snowballs. (We are not legally responsible and/or liable for you being eaten, getting lost, freezing to death, or acts of cannibalism. Your stupid ass not only signed a waiver but also paid us so that we’d let you ski off of our mountain.)
  22. Azra felt the boat tip as it entered the unprotected waters of the open ocean, the floor of her cabin shifting beneath her feet and and bringing an urge for her to lunge for the nearby bed post. She caught it in time as her heeled boots slid along the wooden floorboards, the porthole window to her right blowing open and sending sea mist spraying into her face. "If I'm going to be held here against my will the least they could do is provide a window with a working latch!" She mumbled under her breath, needing to really stretch her arms in order to wipe her face since her bound hands made the task more trying than usual. They had left the the docks (located at the edge of the town of Casper) a few minutes earlier, the restraints still on her wrists making it difficult for her to adapt to the sudden shift from land to water...especially considering the stormy conditions she had seen as she was being forced onto the ship. Azra recalled the steel-grey skies and choppy waves that had rocked the boat even before they had left the confines of the harbors stone walls. She straightened once more, rattling the chain linking the iron cuffs circling her wrists. She had tested them out already to see how strong they were and was disappointed once again by the solidity of the metal. The female let out an irritated huff, "Stupid Allorian metal. Blocks off all my abilities....I could have been out of here already but it looks like they've dealt with other Elementals before." Azra walked over to the door, hearing the talking on the other side of the thick wooden door of the two brutish guards who had escorted her here. "Hey! I know you two idiots can hear me! I'm kinda hungry!" There was a sudden loud bang on the door as one of the guards threw his fist into it, a gruff voice shouting at her, "You'll wait like everyone else for some grub you witch! Ain't no special treatment here for you scum!" Azra grumbled irritably, walking back over to the bed and falling down onto the rock-hard mattress. "I knew I should have just let that guy go..." She crossed her legs, glad at least for the comfort of her leather pants and billowing, white cotton top with its loose sleeves she had decided to wear that day. Getting captured certainly would have been more troublesome in a dress. The woman thought back to earlier that morning when she had been visiting the more crusty downtown area of the city where she had been negotiating with a black-market swords dealer. She was so busy focusing on his wares that she had almost not noticed the pickpocket who snatched her satchel from her. After she had finally caught the pickpocket in a narrow alley, the female had threatened him using some of the blue flame she could summon to the palm of her hand to get her belongings back. The female had gotten back her satchel, but not without being noticed by a pair of town guards that had been patrolling the area. She was subdued eventually (after giving the one guard a black eye) and taken down to the nearest Lawkeeper where she was restrained with the infuriating enchanted cuffs. After searching through her satchels contents and finding the illegal wares she had splurged on in the black market, it had been beyond easy to convict her as a probable terrorist. The girl had quickly been booked on the next ship heading out of town so that she could serve some time working in the city's nearby mine and agricultural trading points a little further down the coast. The memories of the day's events had put her in a foul mood and the thought that she may die at sea made her even grumpier. Suddenly, she picked up on a different sound...the thudding of boots coming down the corridor she had been dragged through moments ago before being thrust into this room. The female sat up, fumbling off the bed as she made her way back to the door.
  23. The night was calm. A slight breeze rustled the boy’s hair, playing it across his pale forehead. He was tall for his age, and is hair was fair despite his dirtiness. His youthfulness contrasted sharply against the bleak and ruined buildings, which rose tall and dark into the night sky. An empty sack was in his hand, and he picked his way through the rubble towards a crumbling factory. The company sign had worn off long ago. He produced a small lamp from a satchel slung over his shoulder, and the pale light casted upon the dark interior. What was once a reception, some ruined chairs, a destroyed vending machine, all covered in a film of dust within the small lobby. The boy rubbed away the light brown dust on the drink machine, but saw it was empty. Moving on, he opened a heavy metal door, grunting with exertion. The hinges moaned and protested, but the door swung open into the large assembly chamber. Lifting the lamp and peering into the darkness, he could just make out the shape of a machine. Climbing down the metal catwalk, the stairs long rusted away, he approached the seemingly massive machine. He tried to imagine it functioning, the noise, the steam, the gleaming metal men marching out of it. The boy had only seen the rusted remnants of a shiny man, but had listened to his grandfather talk of them. He had called them ‘robots’, and spoke of their servitude to humans. He also spoke of the horrors they had committed, after the ‘Great Shift’. Thoughts aside, he set to work looking for the items his father needed: a few batteries, some Old World books, as much wire as he could carry. While prying a particularly bothersome clump of wires from the machine, he noticed a dull, amber light somewhere deeper in the factory. Frowning, he approached it warily, lifting the lamp higher and casting its light onto the source of the amber glow. It was robot lying against another machine, it’s body rusted and in pieces. Only it’s head was intact, and the glow was produced by its mechanical eyes. "System protocol: boot phase imminent: systems in critical condition: routi-” the robot’s metallic voice was cut off abruptly as the boy swung a piece of pipe with all his strength, crushing the head. The amber light faded away, and the factory fell silent once more. Shaking his head, the boy dropped the pipe and walked back to the machine. He turned back to the wire, and tugged it free with a metallic snap. ~Quick note: the setting is a bleakish sci-fi, similar to Isaac Asimov. The three laws of robotics mentioned in his books will be present, if you aren't familiar with them, then no problem. World is in no way fully fleshed out, so feel free to add your own lore.~
  24. Noah

    Izabal's Waters

    The brisk waters of the sea misted against his face, freezing his long blonde eyelashes together. The stone ports of Izabal were always quiet during these times, when sailors had gone back aboard their ships, and weren't out singing drunken songs of women. It was always a peaceful climate to Kyrk Corinthins, and he liked it just so, but sadly it would come to an end. Two drunken sailors stumbled out of a ship, engaged in a small tussle, seemingly about some petty game. It soon evolved from petty hand gestures that missed one another, to a drunken stupor that caused them to fall over one another, like the blithering idiots they were. "And just when you think you have quiet," He muttered under his breath, seemingly catching a glance from a nearby port guard. But just as their tussle started, they fell flat upon one another, making a smacking sound as they hit the stone. Kryk rolled his eyes, walking away from the scene to not be made responsible. It was a calm sight as he walked along the disorganized rows of houses, cramped against one another, with tents and stalls with vacated produce. The streets were silent, except for the scraping of the guard's boots, just like any other evening in Izabal.
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