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Found 1,022 results

  1. open

    Read Before Posting Tavern of Legend OOC Thread The Tavern of Legend is a jumping off point for new members, a sort of sandbox where new members can play with other new members while getting used to the site. This is especially useful for those new to online role-playing in general. Only those registered on the site for 90 days or less, or Mentors, can post in the ToL. This 90 day limit is designed to provide a time for new members to get acclimated while also giving them a gentle nudge towards role-playing in the rest of the forum. We strongly encourage participating in Tavern quests and activities as a starting point, but this isn't required and a member can leave the ToL at any time. The getting started guide can assist you as you go forward. The water cooler is a good place to check out when you're ready. You don't have to read the whole thread. Given the amount of new members that get funneled into the ToL on a regular basis, members aren't expected to read dozens or hundreds of pages. You read this post to get an understanding of the tavern, the last few posts to get a handle on what other members are doing, then you're free to introduce your character in whatever fashion you deem fit. The Tavern of Legend is an RP forum that is quasi-canon; nothing here is canonized as 'world of Valucre' lore, but its internal canon is consistent. Note that the tavern also "heals itself", so that things like holes in the wall and accidental fires won't affect the overall aesthetic. What you do in the ToL can be referenced later on in other RP threads within the world of Valucre. Any quests you complete for the Tavern that take place in canon lands can be canonized as well. At this time, the “staffing” has not been as hands on as it was previously (we got busy =/) but in time, we hope to make this a more regular part of the experience. While you are here, you can take on RP quests with less rigorous requirements than that typically found through the canon boards, get some help with learning T1, work on increasing the length of your posts (we have a 120 word minimum in canon boards) and get into the swing of how we do things on Valucre. This is also a place to meet up with other new people who might feel shy and want someone to make friends with early on. This board will be watched regularly, to ensure that people are in fact leaving posts that have content - we do not ask for much (just 20 words!), but we want worded posts (no emoticons) and no OOC stuff. That goes in the OOC section. Posts that fail to meet this requirement will be removed. Repeated infractions will lead to losing access to the thread itself. The Tavern They say the road to the tavern was once a nondescript journey, traveling through nothingness until you happened upon a quiet little hamlet out in the middle of nowhere. Farmers would wave, children following a short distance behind, curious as to your origins and intent. Only, things have changed now. You travel through lands scarred by fires and death, through an atmosphere of despair laden with only the slightest traces of hope. Burned down buildings are as common a sight as are the rats and vultures still searching for morsels. At this time, people still bury their dead- and there is many, while others hurry to get back within the cover of what remains of their home. Eventually, your journey leads you down a dimly lit path, finding that night has come upon you faster than you first expected. You come to a location said to be the corner of all existence, the point between the world of Valucre and all other possibilities. There sits a quaint structure, small and unassuming. It is only one story, hardly more than a shack, and certainly nothing like what was promised by those claiming to have once stayed within its walls. The paint is peeling, the sign is careworn and faded. Perhaps you feel cheated, having come all this way just to find some hole in the wall that gives only a welcome home to drunks too far into their cups to notice the difference. Still, there is an inviting smell coming from inside, a welcome change from the smell of death you left behind. Perhaps you should enter then, and stay for a drink or two. Even if this tavern is not what was promised, a drink and a hot meal would do you some good. But alas, the Tavern is all that is promised, and more. It reaches high, higher than you could have even imagined, the ceiling reaching hundreds of feet above. Layers upon layers of rafters fill in the gaps, where some patrons sit, served by a young man who traverses them with ease. Down below, the sprawling layout reveals a tavern with more than a dozen corners (each with its own table), despite the improbability. At the center of establishment is a large stage, where bands of bards play and leave- their lineup and styles as random as anything could be. Along what could be called the back, a long bar stretches out, ending at a doorway leading to the kitchens. Also in the back are stairs leading up to an upstairs that cannot be seen from here, and a door that leads down to the storage basement. Staff The staff is varied. Some are transient, coming and going within a few days, and others are permanent fixtures of the tavern's setting. Some are from the world of Valucre, and others are wanderers from further off. The only constants in this ever-shifting tapestry are the core staff members who manage the tavern itself, each serving their own special function. Attractions Recurring Wait Staff Young Attractive Barmaid: Early 20’s, Green eyes and chestnut hair, with a noticeably large bust. Her name is Gwen. Young exhausted Barmaid: Just out of her teens, always looks worn out and haggard. Smaller frame on top, but generous hips below. Her name is Beatrice. Young scrawny barmaid: New on the job, looks nervous and eager to please. Often speaks in a rehearsed manner, quite rapidly. Tiny, but looks healthy otherwise. Average looking. Her name is Clair. Young man with dark skin and bare feet: The Rafters server, as nimble and acrobatic as an ape in the jungles, he was hired for his abilities to assist those patrons with difficult logistical seating placements. His name is Tova. Man in his mid-twenties, blond, frequently scruffy. Rather friendly, a bit boisterous at times. He gets along well with anyone, and is known for flirting with the prettier customers who don’t come in with obvious attachment. His name is Fjorn (pronounced Fee-orn). One vacancy. Polite, middle aged man: Dark hair, normal build, a hint of silver at the temples. Polite and efficient. Named Clarence. (Died during last event) Young woman, late teens or early twenties. Caramel colored skin, dark hair, light violet eyes. Silky voice, foreign accent. Died during last event.
  2. The land of Athentha was home to many different species of demons. A land of cold and ice - to anyone else, it would seem like certain death to venture there. However, to a group like the Watchers, it was like an all-you-can-eat buffet. At the direction of their leader, Nathan, though - they kept it down to snacking. The group had landed on the floating island in an airship owned by their benefactor, Maxwell Marshall and established a small base in an enclosure outside the fishing town of Hydra - spaced in between the water and the town in a natural rock formation. For several days, their presence had gone unnoticed while they conducted missions that ranged from intelligence gathering to hit-and-fade strikes. The team had been careful to specifically isolate and destroy individual demons - ensuring that all traces of their activities were cleaned - even the blood stains were removed with the utmost caution. A full week passed - and the group had destroyed over a dozen demons - yet they still remained silent. After one particularly gruesome fight in which three more were cut down, the group returned to their base without bothering to clean up the remains, lest they be discovered by the townsfolk. The two members to participate in the mission this time were Max, the Angel Knight and Gale the Fairy Knight. The other two members present, Nathan and Elias (Arthur, Elias' brother remained in Genesaris with his daughter) had remained behind to guard the base and continue to strengthen its defenses. In between missions, it had grown from a small collection of tents to a wooden palisade that functioned as a sort of barrier or door that blocked off the cave's entrance. Inside, while they were removing their gear in order to clean it - Max voiced his protest. "I do not care for all this sneaking about." He complained in a soft voice while he undid the straps to his breastplate. "Are we knights or are we common thieves?" "Are you a buffoon?" The Fairy Knight - Gale asked. "This sneaking about is the only thing keeping us alive." "Maybe, but this is a land infested with demons." Max pointed out. "They're bound to find us sooner or later. Wouldn't it be better to destroy all of them with one stroke?" "Are the demons goals not death and destruction?" Gale replied. Rather than wait for an answer, he continued. "The people of the town didn't ask for their home to be occupied by this filth. If we go for a more direct approach, they're likely to get caught in the crossfire. Fighting larger battles will do nothing to help them." Max was about to retort when he realized that his friend was right. Though it suited him ill, the battles they had fought so far were more unlikely to draw even more demons into the fray, if they even noticed or cared that about a dozen of them had been wiped out without a trace. The presence of several holy knights, however, would attract them like sharks to blood. The fact they had so far resorted solely to their weapons and hand-to-hand combat instead of resorting to magic meant that none of the people or the other demons in the region would be able to determine their exact location. "I suppose you're right." Max conceded. "But why do we have to keep our presence hidden from those townspeople? Let them know we're here? They obviously won't think twice about helping us once they see we're trying to free this place from the demons. They deserve to know who is trying to protect them." Gale shook his head again. "If the people of Hydra find out about us, the demons will surely know they were helping us. There'd be dire consequences for anyone involved. Furthermore, if the townsfolk know nothing of our presence here, the demons will have no reason to harass them." "Gale is right." Said a third voice. Both men stood at attention as their leader, Nathan appeared in the doorway. His armor and sword were slick with gore, obbviously from a fresh kill. "The Hellspawn are getting more wary with every skirmish." He raised his left hand - and clutched within it by a horn was the severed head of a Lesser Demon with red skin and pale yellow eyes that had gone dull and listless since its decapitation "This fellow's group, I found about two miles west. Greater numbers than any we've fought so far." He released his grip - and the head fell to the floor with a wet thump. Black blood pooled around it. "Do not fear. I destroyed the rest of them and torched their remains." Max regarded his Master curiously and looked at the grisly trophy he'd brought back. It appeared to be a variant of the rank-and-file troops, probably fulfilling a leader role to lesser creatures. No doubt such a beast would have been a formidable fight for any other man, but Nathan was made of stronger stuff. For him to destroy this one and a whole warband of others meant the demons were aware someone was targeting them. And it also made Max suddenly grateful his Angelic powers had returned. "So what's our next move, Master?" "Isn't it obvious? We fight them." Nathan's expression was grim - at odds with his cheery nature. "But first, have either of you seen Elias?" Both younger men exchanged glances, then collectively shook their heads. "We thought he was with you." Said Gale. "He must have...-" His voice trailed off as realization took hold. "-...Gone out of his own accord." Max finished for him. He raised his fist and slammed it, hard, into the ground - the impact causing a small crater to appear. Yet, his hand was undamaged. "That bloody fool. Where could he have wandered off to?" "We'll know soon enough." Nathan declared, raising his sword. "Both of you clean your gear and get ready as quick as you can. We're going to find him before it gets dark out."
  3. Prior to his arrival in Predator's Keep, Welfrick had been trekking northward around the eastern side of the Blue Hills. He was just leaving Casper after another failed attempt of finding an antidote to the curse that has plagued him for so long. He would have traveled straight through the Blue Hills if it weren't for a rather strange and ominous cloud of blue mist that covered the region. He saw a small bird fly into the mysterious gas, flap twice, and fall to the ground dead. Instead, he opted to go around through the vast expanse of wilderness that spread between Casper and Ignatz. This is a recount what happened during the course of his travels through this region.... * * * * * * * * * * * * * The new moon was up high in the sky, and Welfrick was prowling through the treeline, looking for some sort of prey to feast upon. The beast that was with him had awoken that night, and the hunter decided that it would be alright to roam wild tonight. On nights like these, in the shroud of darkness, he can at least maintain some semblance of his humanity. Besides, there is no human who would be in the depths of the forest on a pitch black night such as this -- he would smell it. Then again, he could still feel a tingle in his nostrils from the anesthetizing gas of the Blue Hills despite being a mile away from it. One could say that his senses may have been dulled. Normally, he would chain himself up so that he would not hurt other people, but in the absence of any light, he could think rationally to a certain extent. At the very least, he could control the general direction of where he was heading. Letting go of his human restraints, the beast that was Welfrick hopped from branch to branch, moving at inhuman speeds. He felt as his claws dug into the gnarled bark with every leap and bound, digging into the aged wood with ease. He caught the scent of a nearby animal -- a wonderful midnight snack for a massive beast such as himself. He gave a toothy smile as his prey entered into view. His brilliant emerald eyes began to focus in on his target, pupils constricting. Usually, he would go for a more sneaky approach, but tonight he felt more feral. He jumped down from the trees, and landed on the ground on all fours. Immediately, he sprinted towards his target -- a full grown stag that had no idea what was coming. By the time the creature noticed Welfrick's presence, it was too late. The hunter had caught its prey. The slaughtering of the beast was anything but humane. Welfrick liked to toy with his food -- a sadistic part of his personality that arose only when he is fully transformed. He pinned the massive animal to the ground, hugging the beast with his scaly arms. He looked into the eyes of the stag that was clearly paralyzed with fear. He could hear the animal's heartbeat quicken. As Welfrick pushed his claws into its thick hide, the animal's breath grew faster. True fear was truly exciting. He sunk his lupine teeth into his dinner's shoulder, savoring the taste of the crimson elixir that poured from the wound. It screamed in pain. His jaws clamped down harder. The flailing of the creature, the struggling body. It was all delicious agony. Finally, only when the stag passed out from pain did Welfrick land the killing blow: a bite to the neck. From that point forward, he savagely gorged himself upon the fresh corpse -- bones and all. Only when he finished his meal did Welfrick smell another animal approaching. It's footsteps were staggered and light, much like a child trying to find its mother. He grinned, teeth bloodstained and all. He would have to spend time cleaning the satchel that was on his back, now covered in blood. He followed the sound slowly, hunger not satiated just yet. The hunter peaked his head out from a break in the forest: a small cliff that overlooked a clearing. Down at the base of the cliff was the creature he had been searching for -- a young elk. Not feeling as patient as he did with the child's father, Welfrick took a step back and then leaped off of the cliff, intending to slay the babe in one fell sweep. His arms were extended forward, reaching towards the baby as he descended from the sky. A strange feeling suddenly overtook Welfrick. There was something different about the baby elk now, image distorted as if refracted by water. Before he realized it, the lumbering beast entered into a tear in reality -- a portal to another world. The baby elk was no longer there, but he was still hurtling through the air like an arrow about to hit the floor. He would have braced himself for the landing if he had more of a warning as the ground was now much closer to the hunter than he had originally anticipated. He crashed into the mountainous terrain below, shattering a large rock in the process. Welfrick howled in pain, voice echoing throughout the night. He felt a warm rush of blood soak the fur on his right thigh. A large stone shard had embedded itself into the his right leg, cutting straight through from one side to the other. He wouldn't be able to run for a while.... Panting, he stared up at the sky. In a daze, his feral mind had one thought: Had there always been two moons in the sky?
  4. As his infrastructure had increased in efficiency after it's establishment, The King---Proteus Rauz. King of Taurus, rising power within the lands of Alterion had began establishing a network of his own. A network that had become increasingly efficient at picking information from the other networks that existed around it. Greater networks with wider spans and more prolific ranges that held places for his own to nestle comfortably in between while he pilfered from them what precious gems of information, data and the like he could. Knowledge was an instrumental aspect of any great up rise. Intel provided means, and showcased weaknesses that would otherwise go unnoticed by one who didn't possess it. So he had been spending his days in front of a monitor simply reading and learning, and when he felt as if he knew enough, he'd have left Arcadia's sector 5 and made his way to this city and found it to be nothing short of a Hot-bed for the "Rebellion". In every land and region had it's groups in power. High powered influences that reigned supreme over the civilians that made up the current population. If it wasn't gods, it was ideals. If it wasn't ideals it was power. They all garnered great gatherings and followings and nobody understood this more then BULL himself. Being a BEING of power, and King. His lands knew not of religion. They knew not of ideals, they knew of BULL---Proteus Rauz, and his POWER. So they followed him. With unwavering faith and absolute devotion to his ideals. Hence why here and now, as their king seeks to expand their kingdom to lands afar---They follow. BULL Stood out here. A titan. A hood pulled over his head to cast his visage into an obsidian veil, while the rest of the cloak was expansive enough to drape even his massive 12' form in an ebony veil of obscurity. It didn't surprise him any that he didn't lure in looks and gawks. It served his purpose. He didn't make any impressions that he didn't want put out prematurely. He had spent times in taverns and strongholds and currently, in an alleyway with one of the more loud mouthed patrons of his last place of interest pressed against a wall, at his eye level, being throttled for information. "My patience is wearing thin with you....I overheard you speaking of "The Rebellion", now all of a sudden you're at a loss of words, You'll be at a loss of life if you don't get to talking again..." His vice around this mans neck tightened. This time to near lethal levels of constriction where his throat was in line to be crushed and his spine in no better position considering. The man tapped furiously at the massive arm and the King released him to fall to the ground and gasp for air. BULL awaited the hacking and gagging to subside, and was indeed provided the information he had sought. The entire ordeal took several minutes, and the King was an intent listener and grateful for this mans willingness to talk. "I swear to you that's all I know! I just want to go home!" ---Not until the King had his say. "You tell them im coming. You tell them im not the masons, but Im FOR their cause. You tell them im far more meticulous. Far more able. Far better equipped to bring them to an END....You tell the rebellion That King Proteus Rauz claims Iztal as his, and there is no Room for ANY who's nature is to Rebel.." And with that the man skittered off and away.
  5. Ashton's head tilts to the side, causing crimson locks to sway past his eyes. "What... do you... mean?" He speaks slowly, his voice laden with confusion. His smoldering gaze settles on the individual before him, pupils expanding with bewilderment. "What do you mean, what do I mean!?! Are you fucking dumb.... fucking stupid, fucking slow or something? I said give me your money." The redhead nods as he contemplates the demand. His right hand slowly rises until it stops at eye level, his index finger extends as if to ask for a moment. "See, that's what I thought you said." His lips dip into an awkward smile. "The problem is, I'm broke as fuck. Like super fucking broke, I have no money. Nothing. None." His lips part as he readies another volley of words, however they never make it. Almost immediately his lips seal tight as he eyes a newly brandished knife. "Listen you little ginger cunt waffle. I'm not asking. I am telling you, and I'm not telling you again. Give me your fucking money, or I will cut you." The man's hand thrusts and retracts, the mock stab emphasizing his point. "Huh... I think you mean stab me." The words are pondered aloud as a gloved hand swipes out at the knife blade. "Look, put that away before you hurt me... please?" A pout accompanies the plea, his eyes partially breaking contact as they drop down and to the side. "Like I said, I don't have any......" Before the sentence can be completed the knife shoots forward, only stopping a few centimeters from his left eye. "Fine, you don't have any money? Give me everything you do have. You armor, your weapons, your clothes, and your jewelry, fucking all of it." Silence saturates the alleyway for several seconds, it is only broken up when a car passes by. Of course, when it does return, it is thicker and heavier than before. "So..." His head rights as his eyes settle on the knife. "You.. want to see my penis?" "What ... the .... actual.... fuck?" "You told me to take off my armor and clothes. I assume it is because you want to see my penis. I'mma be real honest with you, guys aren't my thing." "You know what? Fuck you." As the last word his pronounced the knife zips toward the redhead's eye. Instinctively Ashton begins to move, in one instance his head drops off to the side and in the next he takes a step back and to the right. In the very next his heel lands on a can, and in the next instance both of his feet are parallel with the ground. There is a fraction of a second before gravity takes hold and sucks him down into the concrete, a fraction of a second where he just floats in the air. Fucking smooth Asthon, fucking smooth. Weightlessness ends and he crashes into the ground, his arms and legs flailing every which way. Limbs strike trash cans, a dumpster, walls, and debris which fill the air with clangs, bangs, and crashes. "HELP! MY BABY IS ONE FIRE!" The males voice carries through the alleyway and reverberates off the walls, as he continues to thrash. "Fuck this, I'm done." The man turns, sprints off, and vanishes from sight as he rounds a corner.
  6. Elendaron's Skyport was, like all Skyports, noticably busy. Even in the torrential downpour that blotted the skies and earth alike. Inside, however, the passengers and travelers were cozy, dry, and most importantly, headed elsewhere. People of all kinds milled about here, in garb ranging from the bright, fashionable colors of the Alterion sectors, to the polished steel of Genesarian heroes. Men and women from Terrenus dined in peace, chatting about this and that while just outside of the food court, a small troupe of vagabonds asked for change from passerby. Here and there, the distinctive khaki-colored uniforms of the Skyport wandered to and fro, either on break or en route to their respective positions. One distinctly colored figure didn't move at all, however. A pretty young woman with sharp facial features, dazzling blue eyes and a head of neatly trimmed blonde hair waited idly in one place. Pinned to her navy-blue uniform was a simple tag that read simply 'Cid', and next to that was a well-polished badge, labeling her as a Game and Fishing Officer. Next to Cid stood an easel, sporting only a small whiteboard with the phrase "Kaantus Contract" on the front. At the moment, Cid watched the crowds passively, a small smile on her face as she patiently awaited her company. This wasn't her first time in this scenario, after all, and she quietly pondered just who would be arriving to help her in this latest, and possibly fatal, hunt.
  7. 1678AY, 10 May Roslyn Drydth, Hub of Val Cruxia Tuesday, 2:00P.M Athentha is a cursed land. The elders had tried to keep it from becoming like this by scapegoating. They made the half breed princess the source of people's fears and anger. Told lies about that she would eat them alive. Take their children and make them into diabolical monsters. Soldiers for her war against the islands. Rin was taking back everything, staining it with blood and marring the land with scars. They wanted a monster, she would give them one. Rain fell as Heaven was crying for her. She was the sin the land could not cleanse itself of. That without the shaman they were hopeless to become what Rin wanted them to be. Yet she always wasn't like this. One time she did want peace. Wanted to keep everything together. The elders pushed it too far. There was no turning back. Athentha was doomed.. Roslyn Drydth was a small hub inside the city of Val Cruxia. It houses all kind of races. Yet it was fertile for one specific kind. Elves. Rin came into this town looking for subjects. She wanted to test her newly crafted ore on these people. Turn them against their kin, make them see what a true monster was. And so she made her way into the city, her feet marring the cobblestone streets with magi of old. The townspeople saw her. Unlike anyone else, they didn't run. Just whispered rumors about her. Rin didn't mind. Once everyone was her slave, they would see the light and ascend. No knight or hero would save the land and blood would be spilt. Heaven could cry all it wanted but she would tear it asunder. She was tired of running. Tired of playing. The half breed eyed an elven woman. Her hair was Raven coloured, her eyes a glorious green. The woman was short and skinny with tan skin. She wore a simple white dress underneath elven robes. And had no shoes. Rin smiled like a wolf finding the right sheep to feast upon. She made her way through the crowd and towards the elf. How this experiment would go Rin didn't know. The elf was named Sera. And she was perfect. Her magic skills rivaled almost to no one save the half breed herself. And she was good with a bow. Rin then stopped as the elf eyed her. Those green eyes frightened to see the beast of legend. As most that came to her were twisted. Rin knew that the knights were planning. Plotting to stop her. Yet, they were coming together now. Meeting in the desert of Sol-Morwenna. The knights of Zodiac, Pluto, Yellow Leaf Brigade, Jupiter and Dragoon. Would they butt heads or come together to stop the force of the half breed? Or would they fail? Only time would tell.
  8. 1684AY, 3 April. 10:00A.M, Tuesday Athentha, a war torn nation it seemed these days. No matter what part of the island you lived on, war was there. Lands scattered, divided and even scarred due to the events of what happened so long ago. The elders in their lust for power and greed tricked the demon King into bringing forth a monster of power. They wanted the land. Wanted to grow fat on the ways of tormenting the daughter who had let one of their sons die in battle. Revenge was a sweet dish they saviored. Now, as the rain fell, and in many legends it was said when it rained Heaven was crying. Crying for the sins committed against the land from the past until now. Crying out for the one to change their path and return to the light. But alas, this would never be. In the end, it was for naught. Two elders died. And a third would die soon. Rin was on her way to the land of Valhalla Heights. An unknown elder lived there. One no one spoke of but still helped cast the lies against her. And they would pay. Everyone would in the end. However, the beacon of light remained in the few brave souls that continued to fight the plague of possessed demons. A surge of desire and glutton demons had occurred. Many souls lost to these demons. Too bad not many of the resistance remained. Many became demons themselves. It was all part of a plan. All part to tear asunder the careful laid plans that were made so long ago. How now against the bloodied sky did something snap. War would never leave until the source was taken care of. And that source was a eon old half breed bent to torture and bring forth her wrath. It was time to find the shaman and get the answer they seeked. How to kill her once and for all.
  9. Some-where on the out-skirts of a mountainous forest dotted with trees long-dead for the first, second and third months of winter, a brown-eyed youth stood alone atop a rocky precipice, warming his muscles up for the battle to come by running in place and rubbing his bare hands together. The youth had a scraggly, close-shaven beard and long, wavy, bleached-white hair, which he greased back to prevent his adversary's hands or claws finding purchase in his tresses. He weighed a meager one hundred and seventy-five pounds in his extra large white tee-shirt, bleach-white pants and generic white shoes. He stood five feet nine inches tall and had the build of an amateur body-builder. Around his neck, he sported a white, wooden cross clasped to a cheap chain neck-lace. He knelt to his right knee, bowed his head and, holding the cross in his right hand, worshipped the Lord. He kissed the cross and started to pray. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Even should ten thousand men compass me round about, I will not be afraid. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." He let the cross dangle from his neck and pressed his right palm against the soil from which a boulder protruded. His right hand curled in-to a loose fist, gentle debris falling to the earth betwixt the cracks in his fingers. Today could be his last on this earth. "Thank you, God."
  10. Nestled at the base of the Drydth Cascades a castle had slowly formed over the span of years, people would come and go being paid to work towards the construction of this massive establishment. Many lost to the heat and brutal temperatures, and the occasional beast attack the castle could be seen by those who would venture towards the Drydth Cascades. Landscaped gardens grew the most exotic flowers known to the area, ponds; streams and carefully placed ruins of the family castle were built into the environment giving a peaceful place to rest. Occasionally the garden would house rarely seen beasts of Elendaron, although they wouldn’t really pose to much of a risk to the lord of the castle. Whispers of the new arrival of the nobleman would start to spread through the lands, also with the tales of the man being a demon of sorts. Although his history would be unknown to this new land, it gave him the opportunity to start a new life. Since the death of his parents he was left to continue the lineage of the Sithis family, although his sister would be lost to him for a time. With the hopes that there was a new established home, Raven hoped Eternity would return to him. Thousands of years have been pressed into this man’s life, and now it was time for him to take up the banner that belonged to his family and become known to the ruling families either as an ally or an enemy which only time and experience could tell what would become of his status among the Noble lines. - Found deep in the new castle Raven could be found at a large table filled with candle filled candelabras, papers sitting in front of him with writing from top to bottom. The smell of ink would linger in the air, as a feathered pen was gently held in his right hand. Leaning forward he would blow lightly over the fresh inked markings on the letters, scooping them up into his hand he would start to thumb through each and every one of them. Looking over his right should a man dressed in common servant clothes would step out of the shadows cast by the candle light. ”Sir?” Holding the papers out, he would gesture to the man to take them from him. “Edward, please take these and send them out to all of the noble families.” Setting down the feathered pen near the ink well, he would close it carefully not to spill the black liquid over the fresh finish of the table. Edward would hold tightly on to the papers, looking down at them then to his lord. “Invitations?” Pushing up from the table that he had sat at for hours, he would turn his red gaze to the well-dressed servant. “Yes Edward, we are to have a grand dinner to announce myself to the nobles of this land. I must find some way to show them my support, or what have you. “A faint smile would appear over his face that seemed emotionless to Edward. “It is time that I take my place among my fellow nobles, as my father would have urged me years ago if he were alive to do so. I can no longer deny my purpose, I must find a new lady or lord of the land to serve.” Nodding in agreement with Raven, Edward would turn away from his lord and make way to the small desk near the entrance of the room to slide the invitations into envelopes and seal them with the wax seal that contained the form of a wild flame. Leaving the invitations in Edwards hands Raven would leave the room to make his way towards the main hall of the castle, looking up to see the flags of the Sithis family hang high upon the walls between the windows that climbed the walls high in the stone. The Sithis Nobles will live again, we will be prosperous.
  11. If you: have questions about D1E need some help in designing your character sheet need someone to look over what you currently have have questions about something that is not covered in the guide Please feel free to drop a comment or PM me and let me know what's going on. There is a lot to cover and I know for a fact that not all of it aligns 100%. Nick {@Acies ab Vesania} and I ran two or three combat models, as did Alex {@paradigm} and myself to work out any noticeable kinks and I think one of them was damage output. We'll see once again, but I believe right off the bat that the wpn dmg needs to be reflected across the board for MAG, MEN, and PHYS otherwise the output is incredibly low. Here it is, @Paroxysm & @TheRudeSandstorm.
  12. On a fine day in the land of Izral, a red devil was on her way to an important meeting, one that had a promise of her two favorite things, money and danger. Things weren't all fun and games though in this particular area of Alterion, considering the constant turmoil that seemed to plague it like a bad rash. Even now, traveling on one of the many monorails seemed like a bad idea, with people looking over their shoulders like the train was going to explode at any moment. Couldn't really blame them though, considering how turbulent this place was Ember wouldn't put it past some weirdo to take his chances. The dashing beauty that called herself Ember stood tall in the traveling train, her dark blue leather armor fitting her well, though she took the liberty of installing a few armor plates for added protection in key areas. Alterion was one of those places where bullets tend to fly like startled birds, so she would need that added bit of protection when the fighting started. While humming the lyrics to 'You'll Find Him Next To Me' by Emeli Sande, the tiefling exited the train as it made its stop in town. The city itself wasn't very important, all that mattered was the person she was supposed to meet there, a Mr. Isbandeer. Meeting places usually ranged from seedy alleys to high class hotels to dead drops, Mr. Isbandeer decided to take the middle road and selected a diner for their meeting. It was a normal looking place to eat, appearing to be an old timey silver trailer hike that was converted into a restaurant. Ember normally frequented places like these, because coffee was cheap and they didn't mind lost little girls sticking around to stay out of the cold. Those days of wandering the world were over now though, today she was here on business. A bell connected to the door announced her presence, the bounty hunter noticing someone's head pop up to get a look at her. It was a human of dark brown skin, spectacles and a gray trenchcoat hiding a kevlar vest. In his gray leather gloved hands was a pen and a sudoku puzzle, so it seemed that he had been waiting for some time. With a warm smile he invited the half devil over to his table, introducing himself before asking for her name. "Ember of Hope, what a lovely name." He said with a large grin, his accent thick as he spoke to her. "Now, let us get onto business, right? My employer very much would like this man, Adam Riley, taken into his custody, alive." The last word he spoke with emphasis, meaning this guy had really goofed up if he has people wanting to tear him up personally. Isbandeer slid over a file to Ember, which had some information on her target as well as other details. "How does a Poor Son commander end up getting on the bad side of your employer? I thought people just ignored these guys." "Usually, but Mr. Riley was interested in my employer's games of chance, and once he was asked to pay what he owed, he got cold feet. While my employer is patient, he does not appreciate when Mr. Riley raids one of his establishments and takes much of the money for himself." "So this isn't even about the money anymore? Your boss wants to make a statement." Isbandeer nodded politely, his smile never fading as he lifted up a small chest onto the table. "We understand that what we are asking may require you to put more of a risk upon your life, which is why we are willing to pay well for your services." Opening up the wooden chest revealed a large amount of golden coins and jewels, the promise of more upon completion of the job evident in Isbandeer's cheerful demeanor. "Will you accept?" "Oh yeah, I'll take this job all right, and rest assured, this bitch does not realized he has fucked up, until he has had a visit from Ms. Ember of Hope." Shutting the chest she went on her way to prepare for the mission ahead, giddy as a school girl.
  13. D1E 2.1 System D1E 2.1 Discussion "Ahhh! Welcome, Welcome Friend!" "What it is that you wish to purchase?" OOC NOTE: This is an active marketplace to buy and sell goods through the D1E system to track monetary values per character and upkeep of gold. You may short-post roleplay interactions here, but please—no introductions and no exits are necessary. In and out, purchases, but you can flavor them or not to your liking. This is purely for storyline to have some sort of semblance to the gear you have purchased or items you are trying to sell. It is your responsibility to use the { @mention } tag to a DM when completing a mission so that we see to it you receive all of your rewards.
  14. Sector 3. The sector with all that high tech stuff like medcine and all that good stuff. That wouldn't last for long. Not after a draconian experiment had destroyed most of the factories. Midnight. The sky was dark and of course the streetlights were on. Why would they not be? Well...that's the point of them right? Arashi slowly walked through the streets, looking rather battered and injured all over. Her hoodie and pants seemed to fairly ripped slightly in some places cause you know fighting happens and people...get hurt. Her regenerative factor couldn't beat off everything, not after she accidentally fucked up and might of eaten some...poisonous plant or whatever. Gaia knows what she did. "I feel like I may be dying but whatever...must be all that stupid flowers I ate eariler." Arashi was an idiot. She was lucky to be alive. That probably would of killed a normal person. Luckily, she had a good healing factor to fight it off enough for now. She'd probably succumb to it later till she gets an antidote or whatever. Arashi had noticed a huge hospital in the distance. She walked torwards it, going inside. She was greeted by a lady reciptionist, typing at the desk. "Welcome!" Arashi instinctively looked over at the lady. "Medicine, I need it." "I'm sorry, do you have an appointment?" Arashi growled. She walked over to the desk where the lady was typing. She wasn't too happy. "I said, where is IT?" "Miss, don't make me resort to calling the guards--" With a sudden motion, Arashi went and picked up the reciptionist up by her outfit. "Where is it? This is my last warning..." "It's upstairs somewhere! Don't hurt me!" A man came out one of the offices nearby, looking over at the commotion in detail. "Hey! Back away from Sarah!" He exclaimed, he went to out of the desked in area and went to try and punch Arashi. Of course, Arashi just took it and looked over at him. "...Pest. " Arashi defended herself by punching the man into the ground with her strength. She was weakened but that didn't stop her. Now there's a large dent and a dead man in the ground. "No, Jackson!!!" The lady exclaimed as she saw her fallen friend defeated by the Draconian hybrid. "Are we done?" Of course, this wasn't wasn't going end well for the hybrid.
  15. "This is your post. You work eight to eight. If you see something urgent, you ring the bells. If you see something that isn't urgent, notify the Watch Guard. We have a trolly that passes by every two hours to supply you with food and snack, but don't fill up and pass out on duty. Do you know how to use your baton?" "R-roger, sir. Thank you for this opportunity and work, Captain." "I'm doing this for your pops. He was a good man. Good kin. Sorry to hear about his passin'. I spent a lot of time on the force and there wasn't a stronger, better man to be in a fight with..." He stared curiously at the boy, wondering where the lineage had died off before shrugging lightly and sighing, "Your WG will be around shortly to introduce himself, I imagine..." With this he turned and walked into the doorway and disappeared into the darkness, leaving the young man to stand atop a the broad wall. There wasn't a sentry station for at least three hundred meters in either direction, which left the youth in his own head to take in a slow, stuttered breath. I can't see myself doing this forever, but with dad gone now ... this is all I have. I have to succeed, or I'll just be another slummer... The perimeter he was to cover was roughly fifty meters squared. A patrol corner on the great exterior wall of the Kadia. The chunky gray walls offered little solace to his waning mood, only seeming to drive him further into the cerebral state of his actions and choices. He saw the look on the Captain's face and knew instantly that he doubted the stock of his father, or whether he was but a bastard. Scrawny and gaunt were two key adjectives that often were used to describe his physique, beyond starved and scarecrow. The night breeze came up the wall, rushing into his face and throwing the ivory strands that hadn't been tied back into a frenzy above his crown as he stared over the edge and down the steep, slanted wall into the darkness below. The etched amber lines of walkways inset into the wall looked like a circuit board within a computer, sprawling the length of the fortifications and dotted with small lights which represented various things. He heard a throat clear, but had felt the presence before the noise turned him around to spy a rotund man with a sinister looking mustache sprawled across his chubby face. "You must be Stigmata?" I had a name once, but it's been so long since anyone hasn't referred to me by my markings that I've forgotten it... "Please call me Stig, sir. It's a pleasure." "How old are you, boy?" "Almost eighteen, sir." "Too young to be stuck in this shitty job already. Don't let me catch you napping. There's a radio in that corner of the post—same as every post. This is S1-0-7. So you'd radio in: Sierra One Zero Seven, all clear, if everything is good. You'll do that on the hour. Do you have any questions, Stig?" "How long have you been doing this?" "Too long, boy. Felroc was a good soldier. If you come from his line, I'm sure we'll have no qualms. Keep your nose clean and report anything to the radio or ask questions. It'll be my Desk Relay who receives your messages and will respond accordingly. We have newbies all the time." "Does everyone know my father?" "Anyone on who is anyone on the wall. He repelled a rather hefty attack a few years back. Some raiders thought they'd picked a good night to hit the Black Watch and ... well, you know how big your dad was. They picked his section. Never seen a man pick up three at once like a god-damn bear..." He chuckled and his fat cheeks hid his eyes immediately. Stig offered a smile, but felt like the shoes he was to fill suddenly had grown deeper until he couldn't even see the bottom—much like the wall he now stood on. "I do remember him coming home a little scuffed up a few years back. Was one of the first times he'd sat and talked with me about the wall..." "Aye, a strong man. An ox. But ... you, he told me you were some sort of ... wizard, I think?" "More like a fated birthmark, really."
  16. There was a forgotten time within Bairville, where a beautiful performance was once held. A time when a desert flower opened her heart through music and dance, blossoming pedals of joyous freedom and mythical talent. Gold streamed from the hypnotic bends of her caramel fingers, rhythm surreally rolled from a body possessed by the ocean. Her rolling hips were waves, slithering and gliding with marvelous grandeur, and the bending arch of her back cascaded her tresses like falls of great water. In this forgotten moment where mystical dreams manifested into reality before a mesmerized audience, this nameless flower was permeated in ecstasy. She crossed the ties of the mundane and extraordinary. broke the barriers between heaven and earth. And as the melody embraced and made love to her soul, she felt the true purity of freedom through dance. But as with the fate of all purity, wickedness cast its chains and shattered the music. It ensnared her dance and purloined her freedom. The flower was shut away, into darkness. With time, the precious existence was forgotten. The sun of the Velhatein Desert settled behind ascending mounds of drought laden earth. Its licentious fingers extended across the sky and made the clouds blush. Beyond and below the vaporous display, there was naught but shadows thickening into black. The ebony shrouded the shapes of the landscape, cursing the daylight colors into ambiguous contours that broke the horizon like broken backs of fallen soldiers. Truly they were broken skeletons of prehistoric creatures. Within this aphotic landscape, the twinkle of a lone campfire dared to take a stand. Sitting within its rebellious orbs of amber, was the forgotten desert flower. Reflection of the embers licked up her endless raven streaks, shimmering off the silk textures whilst teasing her desert toned skin with whimsical light. Rusted chains rattled from her bound minuscule wrists, slithering to the rims of her ankles. Her face was down, forehead nestled into the curve of her folded knees, and through that curtain of locks, piercing blue eyes stared aimlessly. Her nude lips were agape and breathed soundlessly, her breasts heaved and compressed into the cushion of her thighs, and beneath its cavity, a heart pumped. Yet her eyes, the lack of luster and vibrancy, revealed nothing but death. Three men heavily clothed in Saharan attire also rested around the flames, their dirty hands breaking off pieces of stale bread and shoving it into their mouths. They were quiet, most of their faces covered in scarves with slits of food and sight. Their eyes were cold and irritated, burdened by lights wrinkles suggesting their middle age and chaffed from desert winds. “This is the last of our provisions, we will not be able to stay in the mountain for long,” said one of them as he finished his bread his voice as gruff and scratched as his fingers. “We are also low on gold, how much longer before our contact returns with word of the rebellion?” “It was supposed to be three days ago, something must have happened.” A silence fell over the men again, the diminutive rattling of chains suggesting the imprisoned woman had moved. “The king only has another week before we punish his lack of compliance. It's been two weeks now, and we’ve had her for a month now." “He’s being a stubborn old fool, he will respond. We just have to wait.” “We have to find a way to make a coin if we are to survive another week. If we steal too much, it will draw unnecessary attention from law enforcers.” “Perhaps there is another way,” one of the men turned slowly towards the woman, eyeing her for a long moment. “The people of Genesaris are unlikely to recognize her. Perhaps we can use her to our advantage…” The chains rattled again, the forgotten woman lifted her head. Deep hues shifted to gaze at the men through descending bangs, a spark of life twinkling distantly within her once dead sea. When dawn broke over the world the following morning, flyers floated around the Yum Janus tavern near the outskirts of Joran City. They found their ways into people’s things, under their bags and pillows, and even tucked within their pockets. Upon the parchment were words of golden ink, cursive with living streams of light within the letters. Come witness the spectacle of a woman enchanted by a grace and beauty you have never seen. Witness the rare advent of people from the Velhaltein Desert. Her mesmerizing movements will seduce your dreams to reality. She will purloin the tribulations that haunt your mind for a single night. Come, and be blessed at midnight, by The Dance of the Desert Flower. The word spread rapidly. Mere mystery of how the parchment found its way into the most protected of spots allured people to the tavern. It was in the rear of the edifice, a circle of torches scattered through the empty plain. Their glows shed delicate light upon what appeared to be an unremarkable platform of an reflective ebony mineral. The full moon was out, its virgin glows eerily shimmering in streaks across the silvery sheen, intermingling with the flashing quips of the reflected flames.
  17. open

    —Cross —Monster Hunt —Class V: The Assimilator ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ In an bay on the far outskirts of the base near where a road and guard posts lay, moved Vortian and Lucille. They had twenty men with them, all trained veterans of the VFi program and each of them knew what glory this mission held as well as what horrible perils were lurking. They were after one beast in particular, but only the Creator knew what exactly lay beyond these fences and into the wilderness of the Mag'Nus Forest. Beasts roamed freely since the fall of the once-great corporation, thanks to its genetic experiments. Nothing was more feared than the legend of a beast thrice the height of a man and able to devour him in a single bite. A swing of a tendril could forcefully cleave a man in two with purely blunt-force trauma. A challenge for honor they were willing to accept. Vortian was milling about the isles, looking through the gear as though he would find something that he desperately needed, but in reality, found nothing. They would be moving in armored convoys and would radio and beacon back once their kill was had, however they were not against collecting Alterna, pelts, and other collectibles for selling along the way. After all, the Valorous Market* was still in the works of being created. Who: the Brave What: Monster Hunt, Class V + several others along the way. When: 48 hour post limits, no posting order. Late, get skipped, whatev'. Combat: T1—Story There's going to be a lot of shit thrown your way. Up to 6 enemies at a time, every time I post... so. Ha. Gay ol'e time...
  18. When Kalmuli had returned to Predator's Keep after running errands in another town miles away...the Keep was a smoldering heap of wood and dead bodies. The sweet smell of cooked flesh wafted under her nose and the place smelled of iron and copper everywhere. Walking her Spellcycle into the Keep, she felt a deep, twisting sensation in her gullet that writhed. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this way but she never used to feel so attached to one location. To one people except for home. Maybe it was the twisting, uncomfortable sense of nationalism from having made P.K. her home? Her clients...her just smoldering pieces of wood and bone. Kalmuli walked past slumped over bodies, moaning injured and the crumbling structures of places that had been home and businesses alike. She didn't have to read the threads of fate to see the signs of a pillage. An absolute reckoning. They left behind very little for the people and it was clear from the kicked in doors of some places, they were searching for something. Kalmuli shut her eyes, letting the situation sink in and letting her mind travel back in time, watching everything. It wasn't until she felt something wrap around her legs that she snapped out of her trance and saw her apprentice, Pound Cake, wrapped around her legs shaking. When she noticed Kalmuli staring, uncaring to the child's shivering. Kalmuli moved her hand, patting the child's head. "You did good."She merely said and Pound Cake rubbed her eyes, rubbing her nose and sniffling. "I-I'm sorry teacher...I..."The child sniffed and Kalmuli started walking. "Don't. This is part of life as a healer. Part of growing up as a Mage. You will face trials like these...but I am proud. I saw your work so far."Kalmuli commented, pushing her Spellcycle toward the Pendulum, parking it along the side of the building where it usually was. Out back, there were bodies wrapped in whatever fabric could be found, unable to be saved. Kalmuli frowned, but followed her student into the Pendulum. The child had managed to get as many women and children and elderly into the Pendulum as she could, bandaging and healing what she could until help arrived. They seemed to be grateful to see some reprieve when the Master of the shop came. All eyes seemed to fall on her slim but imposing figure. "Thank you for being patient with my student. I apologize for my absence...but we will get the Keep back in working order as soon as possible. I ask that if any one has any healing background, even sewing, to make yourselves known. We'll need as many hands to help the injured and to rebuild."She asked, going through the rows of people and checking through all of them, asking if they were alright. Pound Cake watched her teacher to stoically handle the healing, using her magic like pouring water over withered flowers. It was amazing how much grace and calm she was showing despite the fact that their home Keep had been destroyed. After making her rounds, Kalmuli stepped outside and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of rot and decay with the air. Pound Cake stepped out with her, trying to show a brave face. "Are they all who survived the attack?"Kalmuli asked, though already knew the answer. "No...Some of the men survived too and there is also the underground. I think they already closed the entrance...I have no seen anyone from down there."The child answered, receiving a pat on her head. "Keep an eye on those inside. I am going to speak to some others and try to help regather the Keep where I can. Hopefully we can get more suitable shelter going...I want you to go to The Room and make contact with the closest realms."Kalmuli informed and she saw the small girl's face light up. Few students were allowed to use The Room, the source of how Kalmuli traveled and communicated with worlds beyond. She eagerly nodded, retreating to do as she was told and didn't turn back. Kalmuli walked away from the Pendulum, heading out into the Keep. She didn't look down at the bodies, the burnt out buildings or the puddles of blood everywhere, but focused on the living. The men who, despite having fought for their life and for cover, still were working on trying to pull out bodies and clear up as much rubble as they could. Covered in sweat and blood, they stared at the white-haired elvish woman with wariness that came with trauma. "Is there anyone hurt that need help right now?"She asked them. "No..."One spoke up. "How many have survived the attack above ground?"She probed more. Silence. "I can't help if you don't talk to me."Kalmuli spoke directly. "From your looks, you've probably never been to my shop. I'm a healer. An Archmage...A counselor should you need it. You went through a lot...Let me help." Kalmuli's ear perked, hearing the sound of moaning beneath the rubble. She stopped trying to talk to the men, moving over to the pile of stones and started throwing rubble away from the spot. The men watched her work meticulously, balancing the stones and carefully moving pieces of building aside like they were as light as cloth. They watched as she crawled into the pit herself, returning up with an older male and his children. The men realized what she was doing, quickly helping her to pull them out. Kalmuli brushed off the dust from her clothes, putting her hands on her hips. "There."She huffed. They stared in awe at her face and then focused more on her ears. Kalmuli caught them staring, reaching up and running her fingers along her ears, watching them stare curiously. "Elves have better hearing than humans. I could hear them beneath the rubble....Trust me. I can help. Gather what men you can and meet me in what's left of the square. We need to get everyone in one mind so we can get the Keep back into recovery."She spoke. "We'll need every able-bodied person here helping." Seeing her actions, she had managed to gain a modicum of respect. It was enough that she could get everyone in one place so she could help try to get them focused. They were shaken by such a terrible raid but that didn't mean the would should stop turning for them. Kalmuli would check on the small family she pulled out, healing any scrapes and other injuries before sending them off to the Pendulum. They would have to retrieve wood and build some temporary structures since her shop could only hold so many until she could do an expansion spell. Kalmuli would make way to the center of town, standing on a pile of rubble and waiting for the men and women to gather close-by. When there was enough of a crowd, she started to speak to the crowd, explaining what happened and breaking down a game plan for cleaning up rubble and bodies. She would break up survivors into three teams: Builders, Burials and Scavengers. Scavengers would gather what supplies could be found and rationed. Builders would use what would could be found or made from surrounding forest to harvest the trees and those who could stomach it could handle the Burials. People were chosen by their knowledge of the Keep and the surrounding areas to help identify the bodies. Those that couldn't be recognized were to be put in a mass grave while others got their individual ones once they could be identified. Kalmuli received a report from Pound Cake of who had responded to their request for additional healers and helpers, feeling a tingle of pride of her students ability to jump into action. Though by nightfall, she was burnt out. Kalmuli sat in the middle of town, wiping her face of sawdust, blood and sweat. They needed more people. The surviving women and children could only do so much and magic would just tap out the strength of those who could use it. Magic that should be reserved for healing and harvesting. A tap on her shoulder stirred her from her deep thoughts and planning, an elderly woman having brought a bowl of stew and a wet cloth. Kalmuli wiped her face, placing the cold cloth on the back of her neck and sniffing the stew. "Thank you..."Kalmuli spoke softly. "You are haven't stopped working since you got back. Your little student told us you were helping another village before you came here...Thank you for helping us."The elderly woman spoke, sitting next to her. She smelled heavily of medicine but it didn't bother Kalmuli much. It was an old, nostalgic smell. Someone who's lifetime was just a blink compared to hers. "My husband says you are the one who makes my medicine for my aches? I've got terrible pain in my hips and knees." "Yes...I make the majority of the medicine in the Keep. Today though, I'm more like upper management for the Keep..."She laughed half-heartedly. "I should have been here but the Keep will rise stronger from this. That's at least what has been divined. More people will come to help soon. Please go get some rest...I'm used to longer hours than humans." The elderly woman would rise, smiling through gummy teeth and patting Kalmuli's head. She reached up, removing one of her shawls to slip over Kalmuli's shoulders too. "Get some rest too. I have seen even Elves sleep."She chided the elvish woman a little. A little stunned, Kalmuli managed to crack a smile and wrapped the shawl around her more like a scarf against the cooler air. The stew tasted over salted but it was enough to giver her some strength back, warming into a comfortable lull. She would retreat to a partially burnt out building where some of the men were around a fire to keep warm. Kalmuli eased up against a wall, sighing and trying to doze for a few minutes before the shift change.
  19. In Terrenus, there were recently made a few discoveries on the coast of Casper. The holy texts of the old Gaianism, written by those ancients who precluded the Odin, Zengi, even the Twin Queens. They were, perhaps, unoriginal in their content, offering nothing new to the understanding of the great mother. They were, perhaps, just as every other divine text, praises and exhortations of a being that drifted in the soul of the land. In the right eyes, however, they read as a guide to apotheosis. With just a little imagination, and a little blindness… They read as follows. In the beginning, there was nothingness. A vast, empty, nothingness that could not be called even dark – so complete was its lack. This nothingness persisted for aeons, and then in the midst, Gaia came. She split the empty in two, so that there may be, in truth, two vessels. Then she said, “Let there be light.” And there was light. Gaia saw that the light was good, and filled one vessel with the light and the other with the darkness… That story has been told once before – when God forged the universe and Valucre from dust. This story, conversely, is the second retelling: when a consciousness unaware of itself came to be, and in doing so created all that is true – the light, the dark, the heavens and earth, the waters and land, Terrenus, Genesaris, and Tellus Mater, Alterion and Renovatio, the forests of Arkadia and the gigareactors of Izral… This story is about one who had nothing to lose, and quite literally the world to gain; someone who inherited the world, rather than the world inheriting her. A human-shaped hole in truth and existence; God’s plaything. A girl who was erased from existence, yet still walked and spoke and cried and mumbled and screamed, who found refuge in no place, even escaping her own mind. This story is a how-to guide on achieving apotheosis. How to, as a mere mortal, equalize oneself with the great mother and the God of all that is. A guide to forging a world from nothingness, a tutorial from the alpha to the omega. A few prerequisites will be laid out, but I’m sure that the ambitious will be able to procure them. For there is nothing worth keeping – and nothing than can be kept – as a god. This is all of these things in one. And hopefully, it will cast a bit more light on divinity than that dusty old scroll those archaeologists found, for it is a story set in the present day, among the skyscrapers of Daius Industries and the paved roads of Cosanastre, in the shadow of the Crystal – or set in the places that they would come to be, for it all begins in nothingness. This is the tale of: POST|I LVL|X EXP|1 [DIE]
  20. He stood at the front of the ship, icy blue hues gazing upon the city he once called home. "Versilla." The whisper left his mouth, a hopeful whisper. The ship slowed to a stop and he made his exit, a crewman stood on the dock, just off the bridge from it to the ship, holding a sheathed sword. Dradiro stopped holding out his free hand, a medium sized duffled slung over his back held by the other, and the crew gave the sword to him, "My appologies sir, but orders are orders." The crewman stated, Dradiro simply walked away, eyes on the city before him. As he glided from the dock his mind whirled, 'Where do I go first?' He asked himself silently, memories beginning to flood his mind like a tsunami of emotion. *Flashback* Dradiro sat on the balcony just outside of his bedroom, a soft smile on his face, moonlight shining down on his pale skin. A gentle breeze blew, wafting the loose leggings of his pants, slipping down to the floor, bare feet padding against the wood, icy hues searched the room. In his momentary distraction from the night sky, she had slipped away, a frown replacing the smile, a piercing scream crashed through the silence. Dradiro rushed from the room, down to the living room, stopping at the bottom of the stairs his eyes fell on her, the woman he had taken to his bed that night. She lay on the floor, dagger in her heart and her throat slashed, blood spilling out onto his floor. He rushed over taking her up into his arms, blood covering him. A growl emitted low in his throat as he looked for something, some clue as to who did this, eyes settling to the dagger. Nothing, a simple, basic dagger any commoner could get their hands on, had this been an act of jealousy, had she died for coming to him, had a former lover committed this crime. Before he realized, Versilla law enforcement had rushed his home, and were ripping him away from the dead body, he struggled while that forced his arms behind him and cuffed his wrists together. *Back to Present* He could still hear his maker, 'HOW COULD YOU!?!' after placing the souba in it's rightful place, on the back of his right hip, the same hand came up cupping his cheek, as if the same blow his maker had given him during the trial of that murder had just been delivered again. He had been found innocent of the crime, but shunned by everyone he had held dear, had loved. "I wonder if she stayed?" He whispered, referencing his maker. "500 years is a long time." A guard stopped as he patrolled and took a good look at Dradiro and nodded to him, "That is a long time." Dradiro glared, the guard marched on. He had stopped infront of one of many taverns, eyes still forwards, closing them, his mind reached out to her, the woman that had embraced him, had given him immortality, 'Mistress, I've returned.' He let the telepathic message hang, hoping it reached her, hoping she was still here.
  21. "What is it you desire most? Wealth? Honor? Power? Adventure? Love? Xuistidour has it all - if you can survive it." Welcome to Estrua, a harsh land that, if beaten, can become your dream come true, as long as you don't interfere with the Seven Sentinels. With the world wrought with war, the Kingdom of Estrua seems like a safe haven. Stay out of sight of Calamis and her Sentinels, and you can live (mostly) out of harm's way. But a few brave souls are willing to stand before the Seven, their desires upon their lips. But everything comes at a price. Calamis offers the chance to get your hearts desire - as long as you're willing to play by her terms. Deep beneath the kingdom sits Xuistidour, very much like Estrua, but far more dangerous than anyone could imagine. It's a game of survival, one not easily outwitted. If you're lucky enough to survive the horrors within, and can make it out alive with your loot - you're one of the lucky few. Your life has changed, for better or for worse. Because Calamis has taken note of you. --- So...first Rp I've started. I guess we just post character sheets until I feel like we've got enough for this? XD Characters may start out from Estrua or Xuistidour...or someplace outside Estrua's gates if you wish. This is a medieval fantasy sort of thing. I'll go ahead and post my two characters... A map of Estrua and Xuistidour will be posted later...once I find them. Character Character Quote or saying: “What is it that you want most?” Character Full Name: Calamis Niral Nickname: Callie (very rare, mainly used behind her back) Age: 34 Gender: Female Race: Human Origin: Unknown; she does not say Role: Mage Character Traits Hair Color/Style: Honey blonde, naturally straight Eye color: chocolate brown Skin Color: Fair Body Type: Slim, with just the right amount of curve Clothing/Detailed Appearance: Calamis has a bit of noble blood, despite the fact that she doesn’t let on where she’s from. She has a heart shaped face, with full lips, and arched eyebrows. As for clothing, she tends to wear silk gowns until the cold months arrive. She prefers vibrant colors, usually reds. Personality: Calamis likes to be in charge. She’s stubborn, fiery, and loses her temper easily. But she can be very persuasive - it is unclear if it is her magic that makes her so, or if she really is capable of doing so without aid. She can also, at times, be possessive. Likes: Being in charge, wine, music Dislikes: Usurpers, back talking, denial Combat & Inventory Spell/Ability One: Elemental magic -- fire. This takes a good deal of energy, though, and weakens the user for a time. Spell/Ability Two: Magic detection -- simple, constant ability. Calamis is able to sense/feel magic. Because there is so much beneath the city, she almost always has a pained look in her eyes. Combat: Simple knife skills. Inventory Bag: Handkerchief Knife (in case of emergency) Biography History: Calamis never mentions her past, though her accent suggests a northern lifestyle. She discovered her powers when she was 8, and was apprenticed to a wizard by the time she was 12. By age 21, she had come to her full strength of magic, but she wanted more. She had heard of the magic beneath Estrua, and was determined to get it. Along the way, she found the Sentinels, wizards and mages that had been stripped of their power, and forced to live as stone-like creatures. The war struck just when Calamis entered Estrua. She quickly turned it into a safe haven, using the Sentinels as guards. But as the war raged on, Calamis attempted to harness the magic below. When she failed, she used the catacombs as a dungeon. Those who were sent below created a city out of the place. Some survived, but others lost their lives against the creatures living in the shadows. And then there was that one man that escaped with more riches than he could ever dream of... Family Father: Lord Mykon [desceased] Mother: Lady Wiintr [desceased] Siblings: N/A Relatives: N/A Children: N/A Relationship: Courting Extra: N/A
  22. Rydsa. The soil felt odd under the half breed's feet. The dirt would be marred but at the same time not as fast. Rydsa had cut its ties with the princess and she didn't like that. It was food and slaves the land took from her. The airship ride here was wonderful. No one bothered her for they were turned by the ore. Still eating and getting fat that she managed to even land the airship. Rin was a monster. And she shown it time and time again but barely anyone could fight her. They always became a part of the madness. Part of the ore. Manah however knew the half breed was coming and so she came to Rydsa to fight her. She would round up fighters to face the girl and try to seal her once more. It would be hit or miss.
  23. Well fuck, Marius thought. One of the engines had failed on the tiny fighter ship, and he was going down. Hard and fast. Ten feet, nine feet, seven, three... The ship landed with a loud crash and a thud. He tried to force himself out of the seat, but a sharp, burning pain raced through his leg, mainly his ankle. "Damnation! It sprained!" he muttered, his voice raw. Alright, may as well try and force myself out. He winced as he got out of the seat. He limped along the ship to the back, grabbing his assault rifle and his pistol. He soon pushed the side door out, forcing himself onto the ground. His linen cloak flapped in the light breeze as he tried to make his way towards wherever the hell he had crashed. A young half-elf soon saw him as well, rushing over with his horse to the human. Marius soon found himself collapsing to the ground. He woke up about an hour later, on the back of a horse with a young half-elf. He drew his pistol, aiming it at the half-elf's head. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?" he snarled, the fear and confusion evident in his voice. "Put that down. I am not going to hurt you." Marius soon slipped it back into the holster, flipping the safety switch on. "I'm Aradriel. I saw your thing, whatever that was, crash near the forest. I am taking you back to the city of Karmathen so that they can heal you there." "Alright. I'm sorry for drawing my weapon. I was panicked and didn't know if you were a threat or not. I'm Marius." "A pleasure to meet you Marius." Soon, they arrived at the city. Marius fell asleep in one of the beds at the healing rooms.
  24. [So I had this idea come to me while thinking of a new story idea, and realized it would work best in a forum-like manner. Luckily for me, I remembered about this website; I was fairly active here more than a few years ago. The idea is of a far future setting. We as a human race have discovered space travel and inhabited many new planets and star systems. The story will follow Horus, a mechanic on a space ship in a militaristic setting. He begins having odd experiences he's not yet had in his many years of military service, and decides to put it all down in a public blog-like journal where people interested (which would be all of you) would comment and ask questions about things you are curious about with the military at that time or the space ships and whatnot. I would ask that, if this works out (I hope it does, it's kinda neat) to stay in some sort of character. If you have comments related to things such as editing mistakes, spelling mistakes, feedback, just general questions to me as a person, I ask that you would message me or make it somewhat obvious that it is not related to the story, such as using brackets. I would prefer messages, but hey, I can't control people so do what you want :) Anyway, Here's the first log entry. Hope you enjoy!] Horus Makkan - Rank:Chief Petty Officer - Shop: Maintenance; Engine Public Log Entry 1 I've decided to keep this log because, well, there's nothing else to do out in the black. After much debate with myself I've come to the conclusion that I should write it as if it were happening in real time, from the best of my memories. We'll see how long it lasts. I apologize in advance for the shite story-telling. The idea of having some communication with those who live on the land but are curious about the intracacies of the military out in space is amusing to me. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to send them to me and I would be happy to answer them. Anyway, here goes nothing. Sol-Date: 2215-51-3 For any of you land dwellers, Sol-Date is the military's way of keeping a standard date between the star systems. The first set of numbers refers to the cycle of the galaxy. If you ask me, they started with a number pulled out of a hat and increase it every time the next two numbers reach 100. More than likely, whoever thought up the system started with the year we left the Earth. The second set of numbers represent what were called months on Earth that was. It is kind of a nod to our history and where we came from. It's a shame that it has nothing to do with the antiquated system. The last set of numbers, in my situation it is a single digit, is measured by a work day, or sleep cycles. After a certain amount of time, the computers click it up one. There's no way for us to tell time out here, except with our computers. Most of you land dwellers use seconds and minutes and hours. We mostly do, but because of there being a lack of a rotation around an axis, there is no sunrise or sunset for us and we must rely on the computers. Needless to say, I relish our time on land-dock. I hate not being on dirt. Now that I’ve successfully gotten off-topic once, already. Last night was interesting. I grumbled in the small space I had shimmied my way into. I had been there for two hours working on a pneumatic pump that had stopped working on our C-class Vega; it's a cruiser class that was capable of defending itself rather well out in the black abyss of space. The pump that went out caused the Hadron engine to damn near fail catastrophically if my apprentice wouldn't have caught the issue. The pump is essentially what keeps the entire damn engine cool and able to keep it from melting and then dumping radiation on us all. If you're curious. It's an old 21st century website, so it may not work on your modern tablets. If I understand correctly it uses the energy from the negative pion decaying into a muon and a muon antineutrino. Or maybe it decays into an electron and electron antineutrino. I dunno, I leave the physics to the experts. Moving on. Whoever was in charge of designing where to put this son of a bitch pump box needs to be shot. Damn near one of the most important parts of the engine and it's back in the corner of a tiny ass duct that only the smallest of mechanics can get at. I had barely enough room to bring my arms down to my work belt. It didn't help that I was also, technically, inside the engine. The engine itself is a layer of tungsten and lead alloy with some other metals added into it. I won't get into specifics. All you need to know is that it protects the ship from radiation while still retaining a high melting point. In between that and the engine itself is a small duct-like cavern that surrounds the engine and has all sorts of components and wiring to keep the thing running. We called it The Cave in school. Yeah, the pump is inside that area. On the floor. Under a plate that held other components. Don't ask me why this important piece was placed where it was. Getting on with it...the pump looked like it had a leak. There was a pool of a viscous fluid underneath the casing where it bolted to the bulkhead. I've never seen or smelt the fluids that they use inside the pumps. I work mainly with the engines and leave the pneumatics to their shop. I popped the casing off and took a look inside and it did seem to have a leak of some sort. The fluid was everywhere inside the casing. I found what looked like a probable cause. Probable is an understatement. One of the couplers inside (which was made of titanium, by the way) was completely shattered. After I got it cleaned up and replaced, I started wriggling my way out. “You need help?” My underling, Garrett. He was damn near fresh out of basic and school but he catches on fast. “No,” I called back. “Just annoying.” You never know the pants-shitting terror of something until you think you're experiencing it. As I walked sideways through The Cave, I felt a rumbling coming from the engine side. I thought the fucking captain decided it was time to fire the engine up before it was fixed. I hauled ass out of there. As I reached the maintenance hatch that was still open, the rumbling slowly died as if fail safes had been engaged. Good. “Meet me back at the shop, I'm going to go change my pants.” Garrett got a chuckle at that. He left and I made my way to the bridge. The captain should be informed of the fix. And I thought about giving him lip about trying to start the damn engine. I reached the area of the ship where the bridge is located. It's different on different classes of ships. On class-C it's generally towards the rear. They're different to keep the enemy guessing. I'd wager a week's pay they know where it's at on all of the different ships. Hi, my name is Horus, Paranoid Bastard. Anyway, the captain and a navigation officer, Paul I think his name was, were discussing something; we're not terribly disciplined when it comes to calling others by their last name - the captain never understood the point. It sounded like how far behind their projected timeline they were. I try not to eavesdrop when it's not my place. I waited patiently for him to wave me over, and he did. I had no need to salute him when I approached. “Tell me you figured something out, Horus.” “Yes, sir.” He was about the only one I called sir. He was one of the few on the ship that outranked me, at least in seniority and respect. By the books he outranked, me. I bet I could make him jump, though. “A hose coupling shattered inside of a coolant pump. Fixed now and should be operational. Oh, and next time try to wait for me to give the all clear before turning the engines on.” “I haven't touched the power sequence since she went through emergency shutdown.” his face was quizzical. I'm sure I looked confused. “You OK?” “I think that remains to be seen, sir.” “Have you thought about retiring? Not many spend 32 years in. Come to think of it not many survive that long in the service.” “Every day, sir. Let me know if you need anything.” “I've told you, Horus, you can call me Dan. After all I rarely refer to you as your official title.” “Yes, sir, I'm aware. Old habits die hard, I suppose.” As I left I swear I heard a mumbled “Old habits, my ass.” That made me grin. An old teacher once told me to never lower your standards for anybody but yourself. I've decided to give my nod to those higher ranked, but I'm not lenient with those under me calling me by my rank. They seem grateful for it. Makes a much more laid back and calm work environment. The elevator was quiet as I descended the decks. Left me to my thoughts. The engine shouldn’t have begun to spin up without the captain activating the power sequence. So what was that feeling I got while inside The Cave? Oh well. Probably just being senile in my old age. Time to wash this fluid out of my hair. Turned it the color a green instead of the usual silver and grey. Wanted to get everything down before I showered and slept for the night.
  25. Alright, here's the start of the roleplay.