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Found 13 results

  1. Argi was almost prepared to collapse. He hadn't eaten properly in... what, a week? Since arriving in Casper, he had quickly realised that the only meals one could find within the city were ones that you could pay for - whether paying for the whole service or just ingredients - and he had run out of money soon enough, though he hadn't had much left by the time he got here anyway. While the possibility of work had crossed his mind, he realised there was no time to try and find it - he had to warn everyone of the danger in Dougton. So, he had. Day in, day out, Argi had gone from the 'shantytown' in which he had made himself resident, to the 'train station' that lay at the city's heart. He knew Ignatz to possess a similar hub of transport, and indeed, from what he had briefly read of the map, it seemed the two were connected. Either way, he knew many travellers would pass through it, and he had hoped at least some had skill enough with sword or spell, and an understanding of the situation's urgency, as to convince them to join in his quest. It... hadn't gone well. Some were simply dismissive. The military were dealing with it. If it was such a big threat, wouldn't we have been told? How much do you pay anyway? Ultimately the frustration became too much each evening, and the young man from the mountains retreated to the broken shelter of an overturned boat, both to bawl his eyes out, and to then get some sleep. A few times he had been awoken from it. Once by a friendly face warning him that the city police - responsible for enforcing law and order in the urban area - had been searching for him, thinking he had committed murder in Dougton. That night he found a different wreck to hide in. A few days later, having enjoyed the luxury of a corner that didn't pool with rain water - he was awoken to find someone trying to steal the boots off his feet, at which point he panicked and likely caved in their nose with his heel. It was back to the first boat after that. Then to the station again, with the increasingly decayed remnants of the Enrele he had procured. More and more he felt like the crazed individual he was aware that the people here saw him as. Vaguely, he had a feeling that someone, somewhere, had said that the definition of insanity was to try something over and over again, to somehow expect different results. So what a relief then, however strange it should be, that someone actually talked to him. More than one, even. Some perhaps were motivated by the sheer novelty of it all; maybe thinking him some overly dramatic storyteller, more than someone with a true fear upon his mind. There were however those that lingered. A few faces perhaps proving familiar, even. Though still somewhat set to collapse, Argi's confidence had grown considerably. People were listening. Ready to join him in this fight, when all he had to offer was the opportunity itself. Even without food in his stomach, or clean clothes, he was half-prepared to leap right from the crate had used as a podium, and rush right back to Dougton with this small force! But another came. One that extended a piece of parchment to him. There was an awkward moment as he was forced to explain that he was still working on being able to speak Terran, and even moreso read it. So the messenger - revealed to be a child as they spoke - told him simply that he, and any others present, should come to the 'Wyrm's Bane', before they departed. What might have otherwise been an hours long search for some pub or vessel by the name was cut rather drastically short by Argi's revelation that he had, in fact, seen that ship - and it was a ship, which he had come to know as how Terrans ascribed very large boats - every day for the last several days. It was, as he would show to his entourage, a junked vessel that had sat along the coast of the shantytown in which he had been living; how long, he obviously was uninformed enough as to know. But with its name emblazoned across the side - if missing a few letters, presumably having fallen somewhere into the water below - its identity was unmistakable. Further, Argi and any others would quickly realise, the lights were on. At least, in one part of the ship they are. That was enough to convince Argi, reduced to carrying the parasite's corpse in a bag he had salvaged from the area, to step aboard. Through halls that were caked in dust, coated in cobwebs, and browned by rust - or perhaps mould - the man from the mountains walked, until arriving at a large, open room, in which they was arranged a vast table, and around it, several more that had been waiting for seemingly quite a while. Argi could see one person in particular sat at the table that had an... air around her, which he quickly took to mean that this had all been at her arrangement. "Are you... here about the Enrele?" He asked first, just to make sure that no-one had gotten lost in coming here, before he quite simply spilled out the parasite - what little was left of it - upon the table. Its sacs had burst, and its stingers chipped, but still seeing it like this unnerved the very man that had brought it here. Not sure it wouldn't somehow just pop up from the table and attack. "Because I fight them. Going to fight Aleth. Promised the children in Dougton." Argi made his simple declaration, and waited to hear what the response would be...
  2. "The rate in which this infection is spreading suggests that it was specifically arcane engineered for a high death and spread rate. Low level purification measures are only effective as deterrents. Therefore, standing orders are to purge areas of extreme necromantic influence by whatever means necessary. All consumed organic material is to be viewed as dry grass in the path of wildfire. Evacuate living citizens and prioritize them above all else." A Terran elementalist by the name of Roque snapped his head to the side in search of his CO, lips flaring to reveal teeth mashed together and an expression of half buried shock on his dark skinned face. In hearing those orders, he could feel a mountain of responsibility establishing itself square over his shoulders by virtue of his role in the military. His swift intellect often endowed him with a damnable understanding of cause and effect and right now, he could see the next sequence of events clear as day. The squad leader returned his glance at about the same moment that Roque turned, all but confirming that what he was anticipating was on the money. He didn't even need to hear it. The sound of the world could have been dialed to zero at that very moment and he would have appeared like a master lip reader in how he so accurately interpreted the orders he was given. Zera's dark purple lips, a common trait of the Drow people, uttered the words without enthusiasm or hesitation. "Burn it, Roq." They stood before a scene of suffering so stark that it was unimaginable only because in climbing into the minds of the victims and attempting to understand the degree of pain and dread they experienced, good men and women only succeeded in tempting madness. The neighborhood had been devoured by a mass of necrotized organic material. It was like a carpet of flesh and bone draped across the landscape, occasionally dotted with a half devoured corpse that still groaned in pain and cried for loved ones. "Roq. Burn it. It's going to rain soon and your flames wont be as effective." A flash of lightning cut across the sky followed shortly by the first thunderous reverberation echoing through the city. One of the corpses that had previously been dormant was awakened by the snap, unceremoniously yanked back into this living nightmare. It was a woman. Her features were so thoroughly devoured that it was difficult to guess an age range. Two things identified her as a member of the fairer sex; one being her feminine voice and the other a single breast fat with milk for her unborn child, which lay in rest about ten feet away from her now, having spilled from her belly before being carried away by the creeping mass like it was in a river of mud. In her delirium, all she remembered was her responsibilities as a mother and reached for her child, trying desperately to crawl to it and failing to move an inch. She went where the creep went and there was nothing she could do. "Corpo--" Roaring flames emanated from his person and shot forth, washing over the area the same way a tidal wave might overtake a coast. In an instant, the stench of burned bodies and the shrieks of living beings consumed by the purging wave of searing light assaulted the spirit. Roq's eyes flared open, screaming out in a mix of condemnation and resignation. Whenever the screams weakened his resolve, he strengthened the flames, gave them more life and made them blow like flaming hurricanes. The others watched as he screamed and waved his hands, guiding the flames in such a way as to minimize suffering as best he could. When it was over, his arms hung at his sides as if they had been conducting a morbid orchestra for days without rest. His chest grew and shrunk slowly, the glow of his flames reflecting from his body. Then he looked up at the dark clouds hanging over the city. He knew it'd get worse. When the showers came, the torrents would carry the disease over greater distances. Dedicated as Roq was to his role, a small realistic piece inside of him knew they would fail. Panic had overtaken the city. Masses of people scrambled for safety, fueled by memories of the horrors that had devoured towns and even cities in recent days. News of Ashville being reduced to ruins was fresh in their minds and remained palpable enough that the victory in Last Chance conferred little hope. It was hard not to see their success as good fortune in the face of this string of deadly events all across the country, especially when so many of the defense efforts had ended in failure. Among them walked a man clad in obsidian robes that covered him from the neck down. Though the motions of his legs were hardly noticeable beneath the earthen fabrics he wore, the way he moved was strong and purposeful. It was like he was surrounded by an aura that guided everyone and everything out of his path. Even as the citizens of Casper crawled like ants all around him, he somehow managed a straight path towards his destination. He only stopped when an individual of particularly strong will stepped before him and held up his hands. He was a Gaian Priest, expression full of concern and someone who recognized the Cardinal's semblance within the sea of terrified faces. "Cardinal, cardinal! What is the status of our city? Will all be well?" Zeph stopped and responded effortlessly, needing not a single moment to think through his response, "No. All will not be well. However I assure you, son of Gaia, that life will continue." Placing a hand on the priest's shoulder, he peered deep into his eyes and guided him out of his path before continuing onward. He arrived at Valvale Garden, one of the few locations of interest in the whole town of Casper that had gone unperturbed for so many years. Perhaps there had simply been nobody wretched enough to target a zone that the people of this city had turned into a symbol of companionship. Whatever the reason, it stood there, this whole time awaiting the return of the man who had breathed life into it. At the end of his journey, he placed himself at the very center of the garden, which had been intentionally left uninhabited by the artificial flora that thrived in this place. Giant blue plants resembling orchids and purple bell flowers with hazy mists of golden light encircling them surrounded him. Zeph took a deep breath, thoughts of the state of the world swirling in his mind. Unlike those that ran in fear, he was one of the few that did indeed find hope in the accomplishments of the soldiers that defended the coast of Last Chance even if, like the rest of the world, he identified that death was more rampant than it had been in a long time. The military had failed the people in many places in many instances. But soldiers weren't the ones who always won, only the ones who always fought. @Ataraxy @Piperpie @danzilla3
  3. In Casper, a recent large increase in drug related deaths, mostly overdosing, has gotten the authorities stumped. So Stumped that they've taken to requesting outside assistance, placing a bounty on the cause and culprit. (provided there is one). They believe there is a new kingpin for drug dealing in town, due to the drugs being several types that Casper hasn't seen much of, if at all before. Bodies have been found with various types of ailments. Unfortunately, the only thing the authorities have to go on, is dead bodies. No doctor in town is suspected of dealing illicit material like this, no local gangsters are known for this kind of material. There are, as of now, three different variants of the overdosing. 1. Victims are found with internal bleeding, as well as tightened muscle mass, as if they were flexing to their maximum and simply remained that way after dying. 2. Victims are found with multiple failed, borderline destroyed filtering organs like Kidneys and Livers. 3. Victims are found with blood from their eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. And upon investigation, their brains are literally near ruptured. _____ Our Story begins just north in the city near the Purple Axe. Where a small number of travelers are about to get tangled up in this web. A Tavern and Inn is commonly the most likely place to find work, after all.
  4. (Closed to a certain Alien. This takes place about a year IC after the current completed projects thank you.) It started like any other day for him. He kissed his two women on the forehead as they slept peacefully and he slid out of bed. He sat there skyclad, he never slept with any clothing on. His angular face was at peace, content with all that had transpired for him. He stretched for a moment or two longer and then got up and got dressed, an impulse gnawed at his inner thoughts. He wasn't sure why but something told him that something needed to be done...and as was the blacksmith's nature...he never liked leaving things undone. He stepped outside of the old house and turned to look it. The fine Casper architecture was there...it was an old white painted three story house. It was refurnished by Velindrel and his two wives. Velindrel's tribe practice polygamy in a very open fashion. As long as nobody bothered them, they would not bother anybody else. As he looked at the house, and how far it had come along, he remembered the first days arriving at Casper. The old house had called to him, and he initially just wanted to buy the most crappy house so he could be left alone. Something else had happened instead, he'd found his destiny and found a place to call home in Casper. He'd become a son of Casper and found his own destiny. As he stood there he looked for a moment longer. "Thank you." He said calmly to the old house. "You helped me find my way old friend." He said to the old house. As he stood there he felt the chill afternoon wind, it was always somewhat colder in Casper. Due to the port city being not too far away and the ocean yonder. The wind carried an ocean scent with it and the promise of another adventure with it. Velindrel had been quite busy setting up connections for his own enterprise as a crafter, and reputation for Lancey Inc. His corporate backers, the guild that had pledged resources to help him build his forge in Casper. With all that done, he situated himself in the pages of Casper history and that's how he liked things. He was a simple and hard working man, not caring for the wars of the world. Or the politics of the world for that matter either. As long as something needed to be made...his hands would do the making. He would be a creator for that time periods Heroes...he would be the one who made the legendary weaponry the Heroes of that time period would use. Regardless of where they came from...or even if they were Valucre born or not. That would not matter to him...he would be the guide for kings someday...
  5. After a long and seemingly tireless walk, the elemental spirit and it's armor had set foot in the city of Casper, the spirit walked around the town, in a seemingly futile attempt to understand where and what is he doing in this town. His hollow "eyes" seems to be pulling a bit of attention from the crowd of people in the town since it's a rare or mythical sights for someone to see a walking armor with no one inside of it. Tried not to catch the attention of the Town's military or security forces he tried to blend in, but judging from his voice and towering height such actions seems to either fail or hardly worked, but the cold salty wind of this coastal city made his electroreception extra sharp and would earn him easily for the presence of weapons, beggars, thief's and many other things "This place..... Reeks of foul play and sinful traders....... My lord.... Let me cleanse this place" He prays constantly to keep himself safe, until he can meet people who knows the town better, he can't do much of anything
  6. (I am able to commit full time to this sit eat this point. Especially since I have a new computer now, and yeah. If you are interested in joining this thread please MESSAGE me before joining. It's purely a trade/crafting style thread I'm trying to test a few ideas of inspiration I had.) "Again." The maester said calmly. The thousandth, strike, without a single pause for rest from the student. An old and forgotten soul, hungry for study of ancient arts crafts. The strike was perfected, damned near flawless. The furnace like work space was hot, almost like a blazing inferno. Since the elf had arrived, he'd never once complained and did every shit duty the old maester conjured for him. He was finally allowed to touch anvil and hammer a few weeks prior. He'd been there for the past fifty years of his life...time flowed different for his kind and he was gifted with old age. "Try it this way, instead of the way you're doing it." The maester said calmly. "Technique and balance comes with discipline don't try to think you have style yet. I took you on as an apprentice when you first arrived here, at Casper and you've never once bitched about anything. I like that about you. Most students bitch, you're a hard worker." He said with a gruff chuckle. The entire time, Velindrel struck with his hammer. Ten thousand, ten thousand 1...it didn't matter. He would do everything he was tasked to do because he desired knowledge, it was the way of his people to do so. The clanging sound of his hammer against the anvil, struck like thunder in the back of Velindrel's mind. He'd come to Casper running from his past and perhaps found something more...perhaps he'd found his purpose. "What time is it?" The maester suddenly asked and looked at an old clock. "Finish your studies for the day and you're free to go home." Velindrel finished well into the afternoon that day having completed the blade of the dagger he was working on. To say he was a hard worker would have underminded the entire truth of it...he was one who was obsessive about every detail, every aspect of the craft. He'd cleaned up and reorganized the work space as he'd done every time he left it for years now by that point...it was routine. He took a look at the old brass furnace...a reminder of past memories and past lives. "He likes you. I've never seen the maester take a liking to someone the way he has for you." She said calmly, bringing the elf out of his thoughts. "You've not said much since you arrived at Casper. Got some of the towns folks spooked." Velindrel nodded. "Silence has value too." He responded back. "I don't have much of interest to say anyway." He said to her. "Your kind has always fascinated me." The maid walked in close, Velindrel withdrew. She frowned. "...Why?" "You don't want to get involved with me, I'm just here to learn the blacksmith's trade beyond that I have no intentions of staying here. Have a nice day." He said that and sounded perhaps a little more harsh than he meant to. He hoped that drove the point home though, he was not here to build relationships he was there to learn...it was the way of his people to learn and desire knowledge. *** A short time later, he left the workshop to head home. (Enter here with Velly heading home for the day from the workshop. If I agree to have you join this thread thank you in advanced for helping out!)
  7. (I am lifting the play write format for this project and I want to make another community effort here. ALL are welcome. I'm going to try to make most of my development projects be inclusive to everyone or as many people who wish to join. If the party gets big enough at some point I am going to follow a very loose turn order. Note upon thinking about things from a progression/personal lore stand point this thread takes place AFTER the one I just finished so I don't drive my head canon too batty. The thread that takes place before this current project is linked here: And yeah now we got a chronology going yo LOL.) Day 1- The house was run down at one point. Velindrel and Magdalene helped rebuild the house with their own hands, keeping busy, finding the parts and pieces they needed from the wild lands around Casper proper. Velindrel's blacksmith arts came into full use there. He made the various things with his own hands that were needed at his wife's guidance. They were both hard workers, most of Casper's citizens were. He looked at the house for a long moment, it had come a long way since Magdalene had returned to him that day. He nodded in approval. Velindrel: It has been a long time indeed. But it's nice to have some place to call home...our home. He rubbed his chin for a thoughtful moment. Magdalene, we've cleaned the place up really well. Our daughter would have liked living here. Magdalene: She looked up towards her taller husband, her companion. We have done well. She would have liked it here, I agree with you. I have also been working on my own studies. Velindrel: There is plenty to do here in Casper. I think you have found a good calling at the hospital especially with people arriving from Aspyn. Reminds me, I will like to explore the ruins someday. He found for a moment as he considered the possibility of looting the ruins. Would that make me any different than a common thief? He shook his head. No...that will be a journey for another time. Magdalene: Let us establish ourselves here in Casper first. We'll have other times to travel. Velindrel: He nodded towards her. Home. He said for no reason at all. Magdalene: You know that's the first time I have heard you call anywhere "Home" and mean it. Velindrel: It is the first time in a long time I have thought of as anywhere being home. The shadow passed across his face again. Magdalene: That's happening far more often now. She suddenly said. Velindrel: What do you mean? Magdalene: She touched his face calmly. There is a shadow in there my love, that was not there before. I am going to help you someday be rid of it...as long that takes to do so. I don't like to know that you are suffering especially if I can do something about it. He considered carefully what he was hearing. He had not been aware that it was affecting him that much...their daughter's murder. (This project is a primarily a social thread BUT we can take the change to use The Lancey Forge ESPECIALLY if I beat the odds here and it becomes canon. Thank you to all who decide to participate and help me out. You guys are a great bunch.)
  8. (Continues sometime after: And is an on going project style series. This project will be open to all just like the other one. This is an ongoing attempt to continue to develop Casper and my own character; Velindrel any assistance at this project is more than welcome. One more note: My Star Forge I am going to attempt to make canon/lore. So I'm going for 60+ posts for this. You guys aint seen NOTHING yet) It was a Tuesday... Since his instructions with The Maester began, Velindrel found himself gradually opening up to the people of Casper. He initially had been rough around the edges, but he'd slowly grown used to the idea he was a Casper citizen at that point. Velindrel looked at his house for a moment. Shit...it really is a dump. He sighed, he was going to have to spruce up the place a little bit more. Especially if he was going to have guests at some point from the town and from other places...his thoughts wandered as they tended to do often when he noticed it. His eyes narrowed and he noticed his front door was already open ajar. The past had caught up with him. A part of him pondered running away, and simply not having to deal with any of it... But Velindrel was no coward...he would face her he would face all of it head on. He carried the groceries he got from the general goods shop earlier and entered the house. A small group of individuals were already waiting inside, but his eyes went right to her....right to Magdalene. He put his stuff down on the floor and stood his ground. "I knew this day would come." Velindrel said gruffly, he half expected a fight right from the get go. Magdalene waved her hand and dismissed her companions, this was a personal family matter they didn't need to hear what was going to happen next. "You covered your tracks fairly well. Operative." He nodded. "I learned from the best. Can you blame me?" Magdalene walked over towards him, there was still some semblance of mutual respect between the two of them it had not all gone to shit. "The others would have ensured your death." "I kind of figured. I wouldn't have fought back either." Given what happened...what they did to us. "Why did you leave?" She asked. "I couldn't have stayed because of our child." Velindrel said. "Your Father made it clear that he would never accept a bastard halfbreed as family." "Velindrel...my Father was dealt with a few days after you left." She said, hoping that would spark...something in Velindrel. He looked down at his hands. "My hands are no longer clean enough to carry a child. I been running for so long." He looked sincerely sad about the entire event and what had transpired...all that had transpired between the two of them. The woman before him had been the single greatest love in the Elf's life only to have had her father shatter everything. "My hands are not any cleaner at this point." She told him. "Velindrel...I spoke with my colleagues and the guild we're from. I want to stay here in Casper...with you." Velindrel narrowed his eyes for a moment at what he was hearing. "You're serious...despite everything?" "Father killed our child and stole that from us but it made me realize what I had wanted this whole time was you." She sighed. "But if you don't want me back I can understand this." Velindrel walked over towards her. "So much had gone wrong since that happened to us, since our daughter was killed by him. I have been running for so long that I knew no other way of life...Casper is not a bad town by the way I think you will like it here." She nodded. "So that is a yes...?" He kissed her deeply. It is a yes... He thought to himself and sealed things in proper fashion...with a kiss. (This is going to be an ongoing crafting related thread, yall want stuff made LETS DO THIS!!! within reason of course Velly is not yet a Mastersmith but he can make most stuffs! Let's get this show on the road!)
  9. In a historically industrial area of Casper sits a brick building with more recent steel buildings attached to it. Inside, stainless steel tanks, hoses, and other assorted machinery mix, carbonate, and bottle the different flavors made by the Damn Good Craft Soda company, a Casper Institution. It's here that Thurgood Singlance, now 30% owner steps in to wait for his ride back to Port Kyros, and check up on things; he's recently sent a variety of fruit from Taen to majority owner and CEO Tyler Delp and the R&D team for potential new flavors. Of course, nobody can just waltz right onto the production floor, that wouldn't be safe, sanitary, or secure. So he needs to speak to a receptionist. "What's your business?" "Here to visit research and development." "Do you have an appointment?" "Don't need one." "What? Who do ya think you are?" "The guy that pulled this company out of a deep financial hole. I'm pretty sure Ty Delp can make some time for me." "Uh, name?" "Thurgood Albert Singlance."
  10. (Closed to Benny) Day 1- Sleep would not come. He only thought of her at night...the little one they both lost. I would give my life for her to live once more... The shadows of depression were there. Deeply, the roots of that dark tree were planted in his old soul. Him and Magdalene lost a great deal that night...and in the horrible way it was done to them. In some ways...Velindrel was also killed that night. As was common place he'd been dreaming of her that night. As it happened every night since the night it happened...and it will happen every night for centuries to come. "You still can't sleep?" Magdalene asked. He shook his head in the negative. "I have not slept since that night. Ever." He frowned at that point. He knew it would be difficult to explain to her how much he'd suffered since that night. Some scars ran too deep...some injuries never healed. She sighed. "What can I do to make this right?" She asked with a look of sincere concern for her husband. He kissed her forehead softly. "I just need time...someday we will find a way." Velindrel said to her softly. He stood up at that point and got dressed, he slept skyclad as per always, especially with her there. "I'm going to take a walk I don't feel well." He told her truthfully. "Don't wander too far." She smiled softly to him and went back to sleep. *** He was good with his hands...always was. When he felt bad...he made things with his hands. It was how his mind processed the pain that never went away. The pain of losing family. The pain of losing his only child. He knew the fates were not kind...they fallen daughter would have been his only child with her. He knew...he just could not bring himself to tell her. He knew deep down that child would have changed their worlds. He had made a small workshop for himself nearby on the property he owned. It was not yet fully out fitted but it served it's purpose a place to relieve stress and deal with the loss. and personal suffering he'd endured that entire time. Velindrel believed in not sharing personal problems with anyone...not even to her. He would suffer alone in isolation...and deal with the growing shadow on his own. That's when he felt the presence there with him, he blinked and turned to look at...himself staring back. "I am with you now." The other Velindrel said. "I was wondering when you would be honest to yourself and acknowledge I exist within you now." "How can this be...?" He asked himself. "I have been with you this entire time...I am your shadow Velindrel." The other said calmly. "Your pain and suffering manifest...you knew deep down one day this very thing was going to happen." (^Benny enter here with two Velindrel's int eh room note for some reason the other is visible to others as well.)
  11. A string of drug related deaths had thrown the city of Casper into a frenzy. It was evident that a serial killer was on the loose, but the nature of the murders led to the uncovery of few meaningful clues. Although the murders were highly similar in nature, none of them seemed to point an accusing finger in any distinct direction. Thus, the case was left open ended, until of course more drastic measures were called into play. Addison stared long and hard at the wanted notice, which promised a reward for whomever was able to provide information regarding the murders. Even if the sum of the reward had been any less hefty than it was, Addison would have tried her hand at it nonetheless. Innocent people were dying at the hand of obscure threats. As a knight, it was her duty to face these threats and put them to rest. And so she sat and waited, having dispatched interest flyers the day before and received a single response from an individual whom had signed their name off with the letter 'V'. @Mackenzie Rose
  12. Stories had been spread throughout territory of Casper about a great oceanic beast known as a the filta-filta. Many ambitious fishermen sought to bring in the creature with their honed skills in fish catching. However, many returned unsuccessful, the creature having eluded them. Others never returned at all. Thus naturally, it was only fitting that to attempt to capture this creature would be part of Addison's sightseeing schedule. Dressed plainly in a green woolen jacket over a body hugging wet suit, the Master Knight cast aside all form of her usual garment, opting instead of something which was more suited for the activity. Around her waist was a waterproof belt, in which held several batons - her collapsible spears. She only hoped that they would still function underwater. At the Casper Dockyard, a medium sized fishing vessel waited for them, a large banner plastered across its front, reading "Miss Ayora". "I'm not Ayora anymore," she grumbled to herself, dragging a small bag of rations across the ground. It was enough to feed three people for a week. The latter two followed along behind her. @PrettyCuteAnna @Lucinda Valentine
  13. @Dolor Aeternum It hadn't taken long for Violeta to sign on, once given the proper validation and reviewing of safety protocol. Ilyana had yet to sign, and it was without delay, nor surprise that she was insistent on becoming a thorn in the science departments side. Still, she had all right to request review of Patton's work before finalizing anything. The rendezvous was set to the date, and it was on this afternoon in Casper that Elizabeth had prepared for. She had been working at Ventrix Industries tirelessly since, finishing a catalyst that would work hand in hand with the use of arcane resonance. The product, termed for distribution as 'Amp' had been rushed, indefinitely, but was essential to progress at this point. Liz had prepared a few samples to showcase for Ilyana, and tapped her fingers at her desk nervously as she waited for word of Ilyana's arrival. This uneasiness wasn't without merit. Anyone worth their salt in the business world around these parts had heard about T.R.I, about Ms. Sevryn. The information Liz had gathered on her new benefactors was rather off putting, not alarming by any means, but intriguing nonetheless. Patton's primary funding for her research outside of Ventrix Industries had been provided by rather questionable sources, P.M.C's, alchemists, and those of darker practice. Practice which she was all to familiar with herself, and if brought to light, would ruin her reputation. Still, the two had more to gain from each other than not, or so Liz hoped. She had written up a non-disclosure agreement and left it with the receptionist, to be signed when Ilyana arrived, and told her to send Sevryn in when she got there. Patton had insisted that they tour the 'entire' lab as she had put it, prepared to put it all on the line and possibly come to an understanding with Ilyana; to be totally upfront and break the ice. Liz sat crossed at her desk, a seat across from her awaiting Ilyana, and another presumably for her bodyguard.
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