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  1. The sun rose high into the midafternoon set in the sky, the hot rays beating down over the fur covered shoulder of Eira Thorn. The heat of the sun was warming her hair as her right hand carefully touched the stone in which the colosseum was built, her fingers touched the ancient building that once housed some of the deadliest warriors. Closing her blue eyes, she felt as if she was being sent back in time, hearing the cheers of the crowds that came to watch those who would exit this holy place of battle a great fighter. Well for that matter Eira dreamed of the past, her taste for history never completely satisfied in her travels. What little she has done for travel, sad she thought as her eyes opened moving out towards the roads that lead up to and around the massive iconic place. Some of the locals had made eye contact with her, thinking it was odd for her to be so enthralled by the structure. It was painfully obvious that she wasn’t from Avylon, the way she dressed was much different than some of their traditional dressing. Leather consisted much of what she wore, down to the boots that covered her feet to her knees. Dressed for her travels much of what she wore left a lot to the imagination, her dress mimicking much of a Viking shieldmaiden about to go to battle. Hanging from her waist was a very well-crafted battle axe, the handle of the blade short for close combat strikes. Eira felt more comfortable with travel on foot, although she couldn’t ignore the way the people of Avylon traveled from the central hub of the capital to the outskirts of the outlying lands and towns. Turning her face upwards into the sun draping her right arm over her forehead to shield her eyes, the decision had been made that a cold drink was in order before she continued on her way. Stepping further away from the massive building that was now home for more Olympic games then bloody battles and trials of life, Eira looked for any signs of a local pub nearby or possibly someone who could direct her into the right direction. @Chappu
  2. Twitterpated


    Emporia Geography Settled on the border of southern Avylon and north western Oo’Xora, this nation is a mix of the two regions, blended together through time and tragedy alike. It’s epicenter straddles the border between prefects, and so far remains an independent nation within the graces of the Grand Kommandant. Climate Mediterranean Demographics Culture Emporia consists of a diverse cast split between middle eastern and asiatic influences, gaining qualities of both the people of Avylon and Oo’Xora. Their nation borders the two prefects, causing a slight divide among the people in which they rival one another without alienation or descrimination leading to internal conflict. While the south had the superior lands and persons for things like farming and smithing, the north is known for following suit with its Avylon ancestors and producing this smaller nation’s best warriors. With a certain lack of technology, Emporians rely on their martial prowess first on average, magic being the second strongest quality they hold currently. Civilian Population: 1.2 Million Minors (Under 16): Approximately 350,000 Elderly (Over 60): Approximately 250,000 Male|Female Ratio: 39%|61% Economy Major Companies & Institutions TBA Parks & Recreation The Bazaar - A diverse marketplace teeming with independent vendors buying, selling, and trading goods literally from all around. Typically collected from raids and/or trades made during travels. If you see something you like, get it now, for it may not be there once you walk away and return. Landmarks & Monuments The Palace - An Islamic design of a castle, the precious gem sets out of time and place compart to the architecture found throughout Nehalen. It’s faux golden accents topping the walls of the palace are often said to be blinding on a bright sunny day when reflecting the sun’s rays. Relatively never open to the public beyond the courtyard, Varangian guard actively patrols the palace night and day. During moments of public address, it’s common to glimpse the Sultan on the balcony extending from his throne room, where he speaks to the people of his nation. Government & National Security The nation is ruled over by the reigning Sultan, accompanied by the Kaliph (Prime Minister/Religious Figure Head) and a Wazir (Royal Advisor). The personal guard of these figure heads, as well as the majority of the ranks within the military are referred to as Varangians. Regardless of designation, most men and women of Emporia are well versed in the martial ways. One’s trade or profession typically dictates their name unless they elect a preferred title or name for themselves. Varagian are not just defenders of the homeland, they are wandering mercenaries, raiders, and hassassin. Education Emporians often grow into the trade of their family, unless they choose to apprentice under a person or family of a different role in their more simplistic economy and way of life. Transportation Dirt roads, mostly travel by foot. (Outside the Capitol) Ports, Piers, & Riverways. Horses & Chariots. (Inside the Capitol) Notable Residents The Sultan of Emporia - Ruling Sovereign of the nation, often the strongest warrior, sometimes an inherited position. The Kaliph of Emporia - Often a rank claimed by the nation’s greatest Sahir or Sorcerer. The Wazir of Emporia - An elected, trustworthy official with great knowledge. History Canon Emporia has shown support of their neighboring Emperor Koji by not only appearing in some amount to pay their respects to the Empress at her coronation in Genesaris, but also by donating to the entertainment surrounding the event. Despite this they have yet to formally align with the Datsuzoku Dynasty, abusing their location as a means to so far remain an independent country split between two larger nations. Past
  3. Aleksei

    [GS] E'na

    ・・・】 God: E'na・・・】 God Slayer: @Ataraxy・・・】 OOC: Thread E'na crashes through the city of Avylon searching for her enemy. The people flee while the Zodiac Knights make attempts to slow the God down. Her zealous vigor keeps her afloat; she flies through the streets, the holy light emanating off her form boiling hot and blinding.
  4. Aleksei

    [GS] Taurus

    ・・・】 God: Taurus・・・】 God Slayer: @ticklefarte・・・】 OOC: Thread Balls of fire are thrown about, catching the village on fire and all within it. He yells during his rampage, cracking the earth and shaking the air; all the while the flames rage forth, causing the surrounding forests to catch on fire.
  5. Aleksei

    [GS] Leo.

    ・・・】 God: Leo・・・】 God Slayer: @Rabbit・・・】 OOC: Thread The enormous jungle is soaked in rain and screams as Leo blindly cuts through anything that crosses his path. Through his anger the earth beneath him spikes randomly in places, causing trees and foliage to fly, and forging gigantic cracks in the ground.
  6. Aleksei

    [GS] Ophiuchus.

    ・・・】 God: Ophiuchus・・・】 God Slayer: @Csl・・・】 OOC: Thread From the skies fall meteors, tearing through the surrounding jungle and dispersing any civilians near by. Lighting strikes in various areas, causing small fires and thunder rolls, shaking the ground and cracking it here and there. Ophiuchus has hidden himself somewhere within the jungle, mourning his strength and dying in rage.
  7. Aleksei

    [GS] Virgo.

    ・・・】 God: Virgo・・・】 God Slayer: @-Lilium-・・・】 OOC: Thread Holy light is shot from the cannons attached to Virgo, creating large crevices in the earth that are dangerously unstable. The winds surrounding her are sporadic and wild, strong enough to push a person back several feet and can cause minor cuts. Her holy light is blinding and the cannons are beginning to malfunction.
  8. "Ya dun wanna 'at un." The seller was adamant and they could see why she so desperately was trying to push their attention to another. What they wanted was locked inside a cage covered in her own filth and the filth of the others with her. There was no reason to clean them up, these slaves have lost all their rights to a bright world, it's best not to give them an impression they'd see anything better than this. Smart, the buyer thinks fondly to herself. Easier to break a soft mind than a tough one. And this mind, well, it was easy to break. Her hands were pressed against her ears while her forehead rested against the cage's dirty floor, by the way her lips were moving she was chanting or saying something. Kneeling down to get a closer look, the buyer notices the abuse freckling the side of the woman's face and hands. She's been this way for awhile - good. This shattered being is just waiting for someone to put all the pieces together and make sense of the ruined picture. "I would like this one." "No, no, no, 'ot 'is un." "Yes, this one." The buyer snapped her fingers at her follower to pay the slaver. It was enough to silence the crippled old hag from pressuring the two away to better goods. A shame that this woman didn't capitalize on the creature praying to the ground, she could have gotten more than what the two were offering. Distracted by the funds, the old woman bit into a few gold pieces and examined the few gems handed to her with a critical eye and tooth. For someone so lowly they acted high and mighty about the whole exchange, but the buyer can't blame her. Who in their right mind would pay such a handsome sum for a bit of a girl? After she was done making sure that the goods were genuine, she unlocked the cage and got herself a handful of black hair. There was no reaction, not even a single sign of pain when the woman was dragged out of the cage and thrown at the buyer's feet. She lifted her new buys chin with the tip of her well-polished boot to get a better look at the damage. Eh, one eye is gone and the other pale, but she still had a prettiness to her that pulled at the heartstrings. "Perfect. Take her to the carriage; we're leaving." And so they did, but they didn't go very far, just far enough to hide in the depths of the forest. "Bring her to me." The buyer would exit first in a flurry of fine silks and twinkling gold draped upon her person like a scarf. Blue eyes glow with anticipation and excitement, the smile on her youthful face told many stories of her jubilation. She flounced to the clearing, causing chestnut curls to dance around her delicately perfumed shoulders. @-Lilium-
  9. A favorite room among guests; a room that happens to best reflect the intellect and personality of its owner. At a young age, Riforte was forced to keep a record of the books she has read to ensure she was occupying her time with worthy works, none of that romanced garbage. As an adult, she kept recording what she has read; the records now consist of old grimoires, tomes, fictions, and non-fictions. A testament to her passion for reading, the library is lined with walnut shelves housing her personal collection of at least 22,000 volumes. Old and new and unfinished collections, she continues to read and buy works from a slew of writers. If lucky enough, some books can be caught speaking to one another; others even like to take a spin around the room. Books carrying darker arts will be rude enough to move themselves to different shelves, disrupting the orderliness of the library. Only a few times has she caught them doing such things, as if they have a mind of their own, they decide when they wish to be found in the act. The paintings also move, but unlike the books, they're not nearly as chatty. The ones that do like to talk though can be difficult to silence; guests are somewhat of a foreign object in the household, new faces will surely make the entire library abuzz with interest. If any of the paintings are kind enough to let you enter their domain, go ahead and do so, but make sure you don't get lost. It wouldn't be very nice to ruin a dinner party because of silly shenanigans. Her mother loved to garden, so it's only natural that she also loves to garden. Just like her books, Riforte has grown accustomed to taking slips and trimmings of plants and their kind from all across Valucre - and other places too. The indoor garden is a changeable thing depending on the season; sometimes there's nothing but roses and tulips, others you'll find succulents and cacti. Overall, there is always something new within the garden, and a majority of those new are dangers and endangered. Guests are given a word of caution. The holiday season is here, so the winter garden is full of greenery with just a few scattered hues of red, and red means extreme danger. Most of the plants are silent, and like their privacy, others are rude. Make sure hands are in pockets and noses are kept at a reasonable distance away, if not, be prepared to lose one or the other, maybe even both. If by chance one of the plants or flowers gets a hold of you, don't worry, there are people within the garden to ensure the safety of everyone and will come to your rescue. Try not to panic, as stated before, most of the things inside the winter garden are rare, and Riforte would rather lose you to them, than them to you. To celebrate the holidays, a 35-foot-tall fir is the tallest tree inside the manor and sits at one end of the table. Hundreds of lights and ornaments adorn it, and hanging above it is a large chandelier that replaces the traditional star. Like every year the preparations were extensive, and no detail was left unattended. The Banquet Hall is to show mirth and happiness during the yule-tide season; at the foot of the tree, there are gifts to be given out to extended family (who no longer exist) and estate workers who've dedicated their time to tend to the large manor. The table can seat 20 guests, but with extenders, it can seat at least 20 more. In the middle of the table, surrounded by food and drink, is a marble sculpture of a woman so beautiful and lovely. They say the lady haunts the halls, a benevolent spirit who just wants to be entertained and entertain. She doesn't speak often, but when she does, some have said they've heard nothing so pretty and sweet. At the other end of the grand table is the grand piano that is said to of been passed down from one generation to the next. There's no proof to any of that, as far as records show it's just a piano that had been bought randomly one day to occupy space in the hall. Space keeper or whatever, it is a prized and loved possession.
  10. “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.
  11. The sun peaked through the mud brown curtains of the tavern, painting a stroke of gold luminescence upon the immortal swordsman. His eyes were soft, glassy, but his expression worn and tired. How many weeks had it been now? Renovatio was a continent of complexity of which he had seen little to compare to in all of his galactic travels in his life's past— and this troubled him. According to the residue of his memories she was here somewhere...that much his deductive reasoning told him. Where exactly? This was an issue the ivory-haired swordslinger faced, his eyes glued to the lacquered wooden floors peeling from years of abandoned care. Somewhere in the ghettos of one of Oo'xora's lesser populated locales, Virtrius pondered where it was next that he would search for her. The closer he felt himself getting, the further away their reunion seemed to stretch. This was love, intoxicating, enough to drive the sharpest blade dull, the calmest man mad, even the sun below the horizon forevermore... “Heh...are you still here? Or did my other, weaker self fail...” He knew it was impossible. Evaristus had procured the most elite vanguard to protect Remmington before he fled to his demise, a death that would allow Virtrius to be freed from the cycle of reincarnation by a mysterious force that even he did not understand. Or perhaps he did...perhaps it was love, that which all began and ended with. Lucid but fatigued he rose from his bed, never having removed any clothing, for the inn was nothing more than a place to recollect his thoughts overnight to determine his next move. Had he had any luck or made any progress? Absolutely not. This would have frustrated the mortal who's soul was once bonded with his own before, but Virtrius was an immortal. The only thing that could separate them was death... And that only meant a difference in time. Walking almost autonomously towards and out of the oak door he proceeded down the quiet hallway and down the stairs where the sound of laughter and clinging glasses of alcohol could be heard. Everyone appeared jolly and spirited, with them each individually at different times glancing over to watch the gruff swordslinger descend the steps. Approaching the barkeep that was a mere five steps away, he slapped three golden coin within his locked, gloved hands on the counter before proceeding to the door, his hands stuffing themselves simultaneously into his black slacks. “Thank you for the room, Olybazz. Give my regards to your mother.” the spry, yet wise baritone spoke. Without acknowledgement Olybazz stared in fear, very much unlike his mother whom he had saved on the outskirts of Oo'xora days prior. A coincidence? Perhaps. It mattered not however. In a matter of seconds he was out on the beaten path, headed to the outskirts of the outpost where he'd make his way back into the wilderness once more. “Please...help me Zaratras...so that I may return to bring about your citadel in your name...” he whispered beneath his breath solemnly.
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