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Found 6 results

  1. The ground yawns open beneath your feet. You suddenly find yourself falling, hurtling through shuddering clouds and a strange maroon sky. You only have a moment to take notice of this before your body explodes with pain. Darkness claims your vision. You awaken to the sharp sound of water lapping against a river shore. The metallic tang of blood mingles with the bitterness of dirt on your tongue. Your limbs feel like lead. It takes a few moments to push yourself up in a sitting position. The world spins around you, blinding specks of light sparkling against your eyelids, but your balance realigns itself. “Are you four alright?” a whispery voice exclaims. The question is accompanied by the sound of gentle footfalls, soft against the faint crackle of grass trampled underfoot. You take in your surroundings. You and three other people lie sprawled on the ground a few paces from each other. A woman in a tattered green suit hurries in your direction, a man limping behind her. Both of them wear strange, brightly-colored masks that partially conceal their faces. “Did Stargate send you?” the man asks, his coat whipping violently in the wind. His voice is heavy with anger. A tree stretches frail branches towards the sky in the direction they came from. Directly to the WEST, the glassy river murmurs. It snakes NORTHWARD. To the NORTH, mountains cast shadows on a kaleidoscopic forest. To the SOUTH, a strange shimmering nothingness blankets the horizon, stretching to the heavens. @Wade @SweetCyanide @vielle @jaistlyn
  2. Twilight, afternoon shifting towards evening You awake face-down on muddy ground. On a dirt road doused by recent rain. You realize you're only wet where your body is in contact with the ground. The copper taste in your mouth is blood – how hard did you hit the ground, and why can't you remember what happened before that? East is a thicket of trees whose interwoven branches obscure the horizon. Rising above them, in a straight line unmoved by wind, is a smokestack; danger which threatens to consume the woods in a wildfire, or a marker of warmth and civilization? Seeing it strikes fresh pangs of hunger in your empty stomach, and the sickly feel of cold all over. You know what you are. You know how many limbs you should have, how many hands, how many fingers. You know clothing, and trees, and rocks. You know that the lack of wildlife sounds, the singing of birds, the chirping of instincts, is odd. You even know that where you are is unlike other places you've been, that something here is distinctly not right. But you don't know who you are. You don't remember what your face looks like, your name, your history. Gathering your wits and coming to a stand you notice movements; you notice that you are not alone, that there are others with you, and that they are coming to a stand also. These others are within speaking distance and . . . Current goal: Find information about where you are. OOC
  3. Alistair Deoward had been traveling for days, tracking a pack of roalites across the area around Dawic, with no luck. This was not the normal area he hunted in, but he heard there was a vendor in Oasis City who was paying a high price for roalites’ pelts, and no other high paying jobs were being thrown his way. After six days and nights tracking this pack across the swampy lands around Dawic, Alistair was running low on provisions and patience. He decided to give up the trail and head into Dawic to pick up some supplies and get some well-needed rest. He would set out again in a couple of days to try and pick up another trail left by a pack of roalites. Alistair slowly walked through small but confusing community getting lost every so often, having to ask the scarce military soldiers for directions. Although it was night and slightly drizzling it was a beautiful region. Eventually, after walking past rice field after rice field Alistair made it to a small bar called Sally’s Swamp Bar. He lumbered into the bar, water dripping off his cloak, and walked up to the bar and placed down money asking for beer and food. He turned back around and sat at a table with a candle at it, providing him with some light as he pulled out a small journal. It was a small leather journal, held shut by a piece of twine. Alistair opened the journal and flipped through the pages until he came upon a page that said Dawic at the top. Under it had a hand-drawn map of the region with notable landmarks that Alistair had come across. He scribbled a little building onto the map and wrote the initials SWB next to it. He closed the journal and put it back in its pouch as the bartender brought out his beer and food, with a nod, he took his meal and began to eat. The Bar was relatively empty with only a few other individuals in it besides Alistair. There was a drunk couple all over each other at the bar, two old men playing a card game and smoking near the door, and one man in relatively nice clothes staring out the window, nervously playing with his nails. This piqued Alistair’s curiosity, but the rumble from his stomach was more important than his curiosity at the moment. All of the sudden, a man in a tattered jerkin covered in blood. The man next to the window stood up, eyes filled with fear and anxiety. The bloodied man walked over to him and yelled, “They’re all dead, my whole crew! That thing is a bloody monster, take your money back, I don’t want it!” The man threw a coin purse on to the table with a heavy thud and the clear clink of coins smacking against coins, lots of them. With that, the man stumbled back into the night rain and disappeared. Alistair might have been hungry; however, this instance seemed very intriguing to him. There was a stressed man near the window with a sack full of money and what seemed like a job that had not been completed. Alistair finished his beer and took one last bite of his meal and walked over to the man’s table. The man was slouched down in his chair staring into a mug of beer. He didn’t look at Alistair, but he addressed him nonetheless. “Not in the mood to talk so bugger off pal.” “Interesting,” Alistair started in a calm deep tone, “Well maybe you’re in the mood to listen then.” He pulled out a chair across from the man and took a seat. “From what I just witnessed, it seems like you’ve got a problem that needs fixing, and that last guy didn’t exactly get the job done. So, I’m here to offer my services.” The man erupted into laughter and looked at Alistair for the first time, taking notice of his rugged wilderness appearance and the hilt of his sword on his back. “What do you think you can do with one sword that ten men just failed to accomplish? What they embarked on is no task that one ranger could accomplish. So, do us both a favor and go off to your table!” The man began to reach for his beer, but before his hand reached it a dagger stabbed into the table with a loud thud has small trendies of electricity rolled off the blade. The man sat up quickly with a glimmer of fear in his eyes. Alistair stared at him, his eyes glowing blue with energy. “Let’s get one thing straight, I am no ordinary ranger. I have faced horrors that would rip twice as many men apart as you sent on that quest, and I’ve come out unscathed.” He ripped the knife out and sheathed it behind his back and sat back down. “Now, you have a problem, I need money, let’s see if we can’t help each other out, no?” “Fine, you seem capable enough,” the man started, “My name is Gerald Lorfquik. About a year ago my wife and son were wandering around the sea caves exploring on my son’s birthday. They had been gone for some time and had not returned, so naturally, I became worried. When it was almost dusk, I set out to see where they have gotten off to, expecting the worse, but not nothing like what I found. I found my sons body, torn to shreds; it was horrifying. I only found remnants of my wife’s clothing, no one has ever found her body.” “So, you want me to go find your wife’s body, is that it?” “No, no, no, don’t cut me off, I’m getting there. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I only found remnants of her clothing, and a trail of blood that led to one of the sea caves. I saw several small alligators around the entrance, but I am not the type of person to deal with such things. So, I promised a small band of mercenaries a reward if they cleared out those alligators and brought back my wife’s body. I waited several days for their return, but they never did. The next group that took the job met the same fate, but the third group, two of them survived. The story they told when they got back, well, it was haunting.” Gerald shuddered and took a big gulp of his drink. “They described a nest of alligators, and at the core of it, a giant monster that devoured anything it laid its eyes upon. Ever since then, anyone who goes near the sea caves of Dawic is never heard from again, except a lucky few. But they are scarred physically and mentally for life.” Alistair sat back, intrigued by what the man had told him. “This sounds like an interesting predicament you and Dawic are in. Luckily, this is something I am quite good at, hunting and killing creatures.” “This is no creature ranger, this is a monster.” “Makes no difference to me Mr. Lorfquick. Let’s talk price though.” “I can pay you half right now, but no more, that’s not negotiable. When you bring proof back I will pay you the other half. How does that sound?” “You can just pay me at the end, that shouldn’t be an issue. However, anything I find or take from that nest is mine, can we agree on that?” “Fine, whatever you want.” “Good, I will set out in the morning. Where can I find this cave of alligators?” “Just north-east of Dawic is the coast with several sea caves. The nest apparently moves around from cave to cave.” “Understood, and finally, how many parties have you sent out before me?” “Seven, and out of that only three survived. I hope you’re as good as you think you are because not even a party of ten men could take this nest down.” “I guess, we’ll see how good I am.” Alistair stood up, but before leaving said, “I’ll be back in two days, and if not, well, I guess you can just assume the worst.”
  4. Defeat was costly, but none more so than being driven off like a weak dog. Feurerkönig was humiliated at the battle of Last Chance, his only solace being the brutal death toll that he had inflicted on the defenders. Now that he had escaped the clutches of those pathetic mortals, Feurerkönig could focus on regrouping back in Genesaris, where he could plan his next move. "Keep moving!" The tyrant bellowed, ordering the aschsklaves to continue in their labors. Groaning in dismay, the ashen peons once more continued in their toils to keep the schooner sized vessel chugging along in the waves. Their boat was an intimidating vessel of black metal, hard, jagged edges and chimneys belching out choking clouds of black. Such a craft was specially made for the use of transporting the Armies of Rage, as most other boats could not withstand the intense heat the fiery monsters put out. This one was just the beginning of the armada that will soon strike terror into the hearts of all people who dare flee to the seas. Already they were making good progress, having reached the halfway point between Genesaris and Terrenus in merely a matter of days. Though it wasn't visible, Feurerkönig was aware that they were now passing the lands of Elandaron, though personally he cared little for the pathetic lands in Tellus Mater. Once he was finished conquering both of the major continents, then he would move on to the pitiful lands and their floating islands here. Soon there will be no place on Valucre that hasn't been scorched by the destructive power of the Armies of Rage, thus ending the time of mortals for good. There is much that I must do to prepare for my next campaign. The Kriegschmeide will be working double time to build the forces I require. It was only a matter of time before his forces overwhelmed the mortal races of this place, for no defense can resist the forces of nature forever. Their tenacity would only serve to increase their suffering, a characteristic that he pitied them for on a regular basis. Somewhere in their hearts they had to know resisting him was futile, that it was pointless to continue fighting the inevitable. Only in death will they be able to realize the wisdom of his words, just as all those he had killed before have come to understand. (OOC thread) @supernal
  5. Hyde was a town like any other. A small close knit society just trying to get by like everyone else. Mayor Thraise running a successful economy within the hamlet, and keeps the strange and hardworking denizens stable and satisfied in A region so close to the horrific borders of Vechynacht. It was an otherwise unassuming hamlet in a rather chaotic country...it was that very fact that would surprise the would-be-marksman reading the curious personal letter that had been left for him in the early hours. It didn't seem like much aside from the fact that it took quite a while to arrive; The letter seeming to blatantly respond to his outreach for a mentor that could bolster his ranged capabilities, reading as such: Salutations, Mr. Palmer It is our greatest pleasure to inform you that we have acquired your message and will accept your proposal. I will accommodate your training and provide lodgings here in Hyde, Northeast of Caedule in Elendaron. Your lessons will start immediately upon arrival, and payment will be determined after a month of scheduled training. We are waiting for your arrival post haste. -Thraice Galliger, Mayor of Hyde The letter was short and to the point, detailing the location he needed to travel to and offering their services to train him; while it seemed a bit odd in the wording there wasn't any indication this was some sort of hoax. Draco South was a region of steam and copper, and possessed an unfortunate level of crime within it's borders, but Hyde managed to survive such geographical tribulations as Daniel made his way from Caedule north-east. It was only a couple hours travel time before he saw the lights and smokestacks of what had to be the village he was searching for. A creek visible flowing freely alongside the path with a bridge crossing it's shallow waters to the town of Hyde. It was quaint to say the least; there was no indication that it was a renowned city revered for anything more than crops. A cobblestone path breaking away from the main path and leading him to the village, despite it's looks...the town seemed to bustle with activity and excitement. Dan immediately feeling eyes on him, and they were wary or unnerved by a new presence no, they seemed...ecstatic to see him. A feline couple greeting them as they crossed his path "Looks like we have a traveler in our midst! Hail and well met" The husband said. He was a thin, and possessed pale orange fur that covered most of his body, standing slightly shorter than Dan himself as he outstretched his hand to shake the newcomer'. The wife under his arm beaming at him curiously "He has such a cute face doesn't he?" She asked, a tail matching her black and white spotted fur seen flicking lazily behind her. The couple waving him a farewell as they soon departed through town. He made it a few more steps before there came a sudden rumble of laughter from behind him "AHA! Worries too much that mayor does! Told him you'd arrive soon, man of many talets you are" Moshra's voice boomed heartily. Dan turning around and seeing a wolven woman nearly seven feet tall, white and grey peppered fur marking her as another furred creature like the couple he had come across earlier, only this one had all the features of a wolf. Her eyes bright blue as they practically glowed in mirth; her breast plate leaving her arms bare showing off her rippling muscles that were as wide as his head. She came off strong, and spoke even stronger "Lookin for The Mayor are ya? Good at guessing these things I am! Must have been traveling quite awhile you have! Come, drink! Newcomers have to drink with me they do! It's tradition it is!" She said with a might grin before giving him a not so light pat on the shoulder before waving him to follow. This was certainly an interesting introduction to the town. @HollowCipher
  6. For the third time in as many months, the vaulted marble halls of Princess’s Tower echoed with the prattle of chatter. The first time had been an unexpected, though unsurprising, occasion. The stoic residents of Gila were accustomed to the bell-like shattering of mined stone and the roaring winds of the sky, but were strangers to the bells and roaring crowds of celebration. The upper floors of the Tower generally adhered to its citizens’ Spartan inclinations; its routine retainers were administrative silence, broken by pens and breeze rippling across loose paper, and the brusque marching of soldiers in formation. To such a people, diplomacy and sociability was a pesky formality – but it was one by which all others played, and the Gilans knew best how poorly a lone soldier fared compared to a group. The Noble Houses of Dodon came to the first week-long ball, and the two city-states courted each other to the best of their abilities. Yet it didn’t end as it usually had; perhaps the Princesses had been feeling unusually festive or sociable. Whatever the reason, Byrn and emissaries from the Valley were summoned for the second. The Princesses must have been satisfied with the outcome, because they soon called together a third, one each from Zenith and Isore. The balusters were re-gilded, the marble polished to a razor sheen. The Gilans did not mind the work, for they took pride in their city, but they did wonder. Some wondered whether this was the dawn of a less isolated era. Some wondered what the Princesses suddenly found so appealing in others. Some wondered when the outsiders would leave, and all would return to quiet again. Although she was not one of those stoic citizens which she saw wandering in the streets far below, Olivia was wondering along with them. She was wondering when he would get here. He would come, she was certain. She’d watched her maidservants deliver the note right before her eyes, watched him read through the whole thing from across the long, long hall. She saw him look around, and maybe they’d even met eyes, too, although at that distance it might’ve just been her imagination. What did it matter if they hadn’t? Who was bold enough to turn down a summons from one of the noble daughters of Zenith? Yet still she sighed, because he had not yet come. That was how Isorians were, Percival had told her. Slow, steady, but inevitable. Her butler had said this in a way that made her think he didn’t like Isorians very much, but to her ears it was very romantic, or had seemed so at the time. Now that it had come to reality, her impatience began to win out. Aside from the sounds of her pacing, the courtyard was quiet. It was closed off to visitors and trespassers, which made it ideal for private talks and daring escapades. A stone fountain whispered sweet nothings in a grassy patch of trees that somehow grew mighty from the scattered soil arranged in plots on the marble. An earthly idyll, twenty stories into the sky. One of her hands clung to the warm railing of the courtyard. The other shielded her eyes as she looked down, far down some twenty stories, onto a city that sparkled like a gem beneath the open afternoon sun. It reminded her of a cracked mirror, as if it had rained polished silver onto the streets of Gila the night before. Everywhere she looked, there were pinpricks of stars, fragments of the sun, gleaming back up at her and upon the smoothed walls of the tower. The Princess’s Tower had no shadows. Despite this, there was still one that bobbed in the edge of her vision. “Took you long enough!” She planted one foot firmly into the ground and spun slowly to face the newcomer with a mock scowl. “Madon, right?” “I’m Olivia. How do you do?” @EpicRome23
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