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Found 740 results

  1. COTH The town of Church On The Hill a Low Tech setting The History: 4/18 Church on the Hill, or Coth as it is commonly called, is a growing town in Terrenus just beyond the domain of Blairville. For many years, the eponymous church stood alone atop the highest hill in the region. It was once the center of a populous parish in the ages before the great cities of Terrenus came to dominate political and social life. In recent times the church stood as more of a watchtower and repository of old knowledge than as a hub of community. The Gaian religion, to whom the church originally belonged, grew lax in replacing deceased clergymen as the location waned in importance until the building was occupied by a mere single man who was forced to live off scant alms and the generosity of local farmers and friends. This man's name was Constans, and though he prayed every day to the great mother of his religion, he had long given up hope that his faith would be rewarded. Times changed, as they are wont to do, and the Church on the Hill bore witness to even further degradation. In the wake of a faraway civil war the patrolmen, nobility, constabulary, and military of Terrenus receded away from the rural lands the church stood watch over, abandoning the fertile farms and meager hovels of its agrarian people. Once the protection of the nobles and their armies were gone, evil began to take root. Monsters and beasts not seen for years began to creep from the deep places of the world, and men turned on each other in banditry and violence. The people cried up to the sky and down to the earth, but found no peace. Meanwhile, Constans watched in horror as families dragged corpses by their hundreds to his church for burial. Starved men and women, murdered children. The peaceful age was ending. Yet one fateful night, a tearful Constans called out to anyone who would hear, any god or great spirit who would ease the suffering of the people and of one broken priest. Miraculously, his call was answered. A great fire exploded inside the church, blowing the very roof off the building and blasting a column of mystical green flame into the sky like a beacon. Among the holy fires, Constans fell victim to a fit of great and terrible visions portending the rise of a new world. For hours, the priest was held in the clutches of these mad prophesies, all the while safe inside the tornado of green flames. When it was over, and the flames subsided, word began to spread across the land. Those who had seen the miracle from afar had rushed to witness it themselves, and had seen the priest among the flames. Others, hearing secondhand stories, flocked to the ruins of the old church to hear the preaching of a holy man who had been chosen by green fire. He preached a message of a new social order in which the people worked for their own good and organized under no higher authority than that of a god. Men were weak, the priest proclaimed, and their promises were illusions. Only the power of a god could be relied upon to hold together a mortal realm. He encouraged his followers to work and share in equal measure, to respect each other's property and freedom, while submitting themselves to the will of a divine monarch-- not some self appointed human king claiming to speak for a god, but a king who was a god, and an authority which no man could undo. It was not long before this appealing promise of protection and community drew huge crowds of abandoned farmers, cobblers, blacksmiths, porters, cooks, healers, herdsmen, and laborers. Seeing himself at a crossroads of destiny, and urged by the whispers of a god, Constans proclaimed the masses of scared commonfolk to be one sanctified people, the people of Coth, the seed of the new world. 7/18 Coth has begun to achieve the dream of its founder, yet while its people celebrate a feast, a cohort of powerful raiders charges toward the nearly defenseless town. The Thread Setting: Coth is an open, low tech, persistent locale characters can freely enter or leave as they like. Coth itself is a 25 square mile area which includes a town of approximately 4000 arranged at the base of a tall hill upon which sits the famous, half destroyed church. Coth has a small-town feel. People are familiar with each other, helpful, and oftentimes oblivious to subtlety. The townsfolk are overwhelmingly derived from the lowest rung on the social order of Terrenus. Many have never seen magitech, or magic for that matter, yet what they lack in formal education they make up for in skill and spirit. They are working class people, and their work has helped the town of Coth spring up around the ruined church with alarming speed. Rather than have individual threads, I have elected to tell all stories in and around Coth in this single thread. This will give the town a sense of continuity and permanency, in the hope that actions taken by one player can impact the experiences of others. Often, stories told in Coth will be submitted for canonization, and canon events will be featured here in the first post to help inform newcomers and regulars of developing events. If you're unsure how to enter Coth, or aren't sure your character would fit its low power, low tech setting, message @Vansinfor assistance. Resident Characters: Coth has an agreement with the esteemed booksellers and loremasters of Book|Ends, who have arrived to advise Constans as he seeks to develop Coth into a model society that can inspire a world-spanning change in religion, morality, governance, and civilization. A tribe of Ice Giants, led by the mysterious Yahweh, has also made a pact of nonaggression and mutual aid with Coth, and their embassy hosts a quartet of hulking giants who smith for and protect the fledgling town. These character can be found in the town, and their writers are invested with moderator authority within this thread. If I am not around to ask questions, please contact one of them. At the Present: A raid! Canon Quest: Repel The Raiding Party! Defend the innocents of Coth from the barbarian raiders by any means neccessary! Questor 1: @Spooky Mittens Questor 2: @KittyvonCupcake Questor 3: @Better Than Gore Questor 4: @Radioactive Headers & Graphics The below graphics have been made for us by the renaissance woman @KittyvonCupcake. While these artistic headers are not mandatory, text headers are highly encouraged to discern where the many characters occupying this thread are. Concerning headers (lifted from an announcement on page 2): Graphics examples:
  2. Miss Blonde

    We Can Do Both

    We Can Do Both Miss Blonde was a nobody in this world. Her past accolades and position of power didn’t matter, and part of her liked that. She was always feared and regarded as being pure evil. Half the time she was referred to as a terrorist, and the other half it was a ruthless crime lord. That was all people thought of her as, not a person or someone struggling to raise a family of four by herself, and certainly not a decent person. So she had become what everyone had made her out to be. The terrorist who bombed civilians when governments refused to give into her demands. The killer of all her own men in her close circle when even the slightest bit of info was leaked. But that wasn’t the type of person she wanted to be anymore. Of course she was no hero, those days were long gone. All she could do was try to be the best person she could be within the lens of her profession, and while good people normally died in this business. She was willing to risk it to an extent. Miss Blonde was always a cautious woman, someone who so far had not given out even her code name to these people. Her birth name mattered not as she wasn’t registered in any data base on this planet, so for all these people knew Miss Blonde might as well of been her real name. The contract that she had released into the mercenary world was vague at best. “Looking for experienced mercenaries and contractors of an evening of work. Danger level medium. Payment two hundred gold pieces and a custom minor magic item per person. Meet at X coordinates in the dead of night, your ride will be waiting for you there along with further instructions. Come wearing your faces concealed and with a code name.” Which was somewhere deep into La Ultima Opportunidad. Far from her bar, and far from the prying eyes where most law enforcement dare not go. The crew would assemble in a twin horse drawn wagon with a black tarp laid over it to conceal them. Sitting there in the back of the wagon was a small woman with short raven black hair, a tactical vest, fatigues, a black plate metal mask, and what looked to be a pistol strapped to her side. She had been the first one there, and was considered to be the liaison for the job. Once everyone had gathered, a strange device light up at the center of the wagon and filled the cabin with a soft blue light that emitted a three dimensional holographic image of a gas mask. ”Good evening everyone. Tonight we have a very special game to play. You’ll be knocking over a club for me. Though not just any club, one that is shall we say much more shady and illicit than most. Club Euphoria. As some of you may or may not know, it’s a rather heinous establishment. Run by killer enforcers, human traffickers, and genuinely unpleasant people. People who I want dead. So the job is quite simple. The primary objective is to clear and secure the club of all these scumbags. Secondary objective is to free the sex slaves being held there and give them the packs of gold pieces that have directions to the nearest shelter. You will find those under your seats. If you are caught stealing these packs, I’ll collect your fucking fingers. You are to infiltrate the club with stealth and eliminate the outside guards quietly. Once inside firearms are free to use. My lieutenant Miss Blink will be leading the operation, any order from her is to be considered an order from me. You’ve all been informed of the rules of engagement, so go get the job done.” The voice and image went black and it was time to begin. The wagon began to move and traveled for about a good ten minutes through the streets of Last Chance. It would be a few minutes before they arrived. If anyone needed to say anything or ask any questions to the still nameless boss’ liaison, then this was the moment to do so. OOC Please read before you join for rules.
  3. Mag

    accretion. (3/3)

    A car came to Yh’mi. As one might expect it came from the north on the good side of the wall, which was well — this meant that it carried no fell beasts, no wicked travelers, no disturbed voices that anchored themselves in the dark corners of the psyche where logic and sanity could not reach. At least it was not expected to carry such things, the reality of matters notwithstanding, though what sort of people were expected to be drawn to the rough-and-tumble hostile psychopath land here, one might have to wonder. Diplomats, hunters, prospectors, reckless suicides. But these were not enemies by default, and so the Paladins of Inns’th had no reservations in greeting it with, if not open arms, then inhostile ones. This would eventually be shown to be a mistake, but not then, and not for years to come. The problems arose when the Paladins inquired as to its destination, which happened to be toward the south, on the bad side of the wall. This was not so well, for all the exact same reasons in the inverse. Even considering there really was little other reason to come to Inns’th other than to leave it in the other direction; but it was the latter that was a madman’s undertaking. It was not happening — and if it were to happen, it had better be for reasons and ascendant ones at that. After a few minutes of arguing back and forth, papers were produced. Orders, signed by some foreign name, demanding access for reasons that may have been incomprehensible but were certainly not unholy. A tribe of gypsies had come to Yh’mi a while ago — this was true, if abrupt — and had disappeared into the wastes to eke a living out among the Cyclopes or die trying. What little thought accorded this tribe at that time in Inns’th upheld the truth of either; indeed the gypsies had not been seen for months, so yes, it must be true that they’d either found a meagre living off the cruel land, or died trying. But the papers carried by the newcomers indicated that a worried relative of one of the members of the tribe had expressed desire to send a message to his possibly-dead cousin, and had hired couriers — present company at your service — to deliver such a message. The Paladins deliberated for a few minutes as the car idled. It was a perfectly ordinary excursion made extraordinary by the wicked lands in which it proposed to take place. In the end, they decided to allow the car through. The couriers would deliver their message or die trying, they figured. Just the same as the gypsies so long ago. And while these Paladins concerned themselves with the lives of all living creatures, ones who sought early deaths were welcome to pursue their fates with glee. The gates swung open and the car roared into crippling waste without delay, not to be seen again.
  4. Rin threw Sayndar to the ground as he came running at her. The rain drowning out his cries as it fell down heavily. Sayndar rolled against the ground, his sword falling to the side as the princess of Athentha made her way towards the hero of Lyonesse. That was his title, his proud achievement of defeating her those long years ago. That day he ripped her eye from her skull. Yet she didn't do the same to him. Picking him up from the back of his collar, she snarled. Nothing left in her eyes as she would make him suffer. Sayndar would have let her but he couldn't let the land fall to her hands. Her dark vision. His hands grasped her arms backwards to singe her skin. Rin hissed in pain as she released him. Sayndar with his last ounce of strength ran at the half breed and slammed her against the tree. He then collapsed into unconsciousness... --- Sayndar gasped as he awoke in a small enclosed camp. Those cold memories trying to suffocate him as the sweat fell down his face. Gripping the sheets as he sat in the bed, he had this dream for a week now. As if it was haunting him for a reason. And he didn't know why. Salsa leaned against the wall, her arms crossed against her chest. Her elf ears peeking out from black blue curls. Her yellow black eyes hauntingly staring at him. She was dressed in the usual resistance garb. About time ya awoke Capt'n. You've been asleep for days now after we found ya beat'n by the princess. She cut yer body up real good. Fin'lly had to shoo her off ya with that old magic tactic. "Salsa, it wasn't that easy. We were evenly matched. I thought I could redeem her this time. Show her the light. We've lost her to that villanous cur's magic. I--I--" Salsa put her hand up as she tried to ease the man's worries. Sayndar sighed as the resistance was growing in numbers yet at the same time couldn't fully go against the half breed and the man running the show. Capt'n, don't stress so much. We'll free yer princess. It will just take time. Plus we have to retrain a demon hunter again. Afraid he got eat'n by the demon raven. But the knights of Gemini Phoenix are here. Sayndar sighed shaking his head as he stood up. Yes, the knights were here to help build numbers in their ranks. Yet, he felt they weren't enough. He told Salsa he was off to see Cid. Waving her off as she stood there in silence.
  5. Dolor Aeternum

    [Event] Darkness and Havoc - Illyria Arrives

    Illyrian Scientific Division Event Objectives: 1. Evacuate the citizens of Antigua or save yourself. 2. Tend to the wounded, if so inclined. 3. Fight off the dark creatures that will emerge from the random pockets scattered around Ceyana. The tougher creatures may drop sweet sweet loot. (List of creatures to come) Bonus: Attempt to find and confront Havoc and Darkness to stop prevent further loss by engaging them. This will not stop the success of this catastrophic event but it could modify how or make things worse. They are hidden deep within the rainforest. Good luck! Name: Heron Leneri/ Luz Yllende Affiliation: Illyrian Scientists Location: Illyrian Scientific Division Objective: Discovering the beginning of the event Heron’s day had already gotten off to a rough start, with the Scientific Council sending one of their representatives to tell him to shut down his experiment and relinquish all of his findings to Luz the next morning. Years of trying to implement a faster way to exchange goods with other partners outside of the plane that Illyria existed in was now seen as a waste of time to lazy fools who were too comfortable in their self-made thrones to realize that his home could still be better than it was…still do so much more. They have been blessed for so long with an abundance of everything they needed to survive, but did they not remember the dark centuries that preceded this? Were they so present-minded that they could not see that troubles would still lie ahead? It wouldn’t do his feeble heart any good to dwell on it now so as he began to put away his items and have his assistants pack up all of his data, all he could do was let out a sigh before he heard a high pitched noise from across the lab. “Sir, we are picking up some odd readings outside of the spire. The readings fall in line with what we get when we activate several of our pathway coils together.” A younger assistant chimed in. “That set us back weeks on our research……Oh well doesn’t matter now. Let the scientific council worry about that mess. We need to start thinking about finding another scientist to work with.” The younger assistant realized that perhaps it was too soon to mention that but ambition was always key when trying to escalate up through the science divisions. “No offense sir” Heron shook his head while looking at the thin monitor hovering in front of them that was connected wirelessly to several others that hovered above them. Suddenly a flurry of sounds similar to the one that started this interaction were heard and Heron immediately jumped into action. “Start recording all of this data in real time. You, give me my tether so I can communicate with Luz.” Heron furrowed his brows and he could almost feel his synapses firing quickly as he wondered what could be causing all of these dimensional spurts. Had someone conducted some sketchy research and miscalculated? Those fledglings like the ones he hired sometimes loved to act brashly and without proper respect for the scientific methods. Shaking his head given that he figured no one was intelligent or foolish enough to even attempt to coordinate the quantity of anomalies that he was currently viewing, he looked around for the assistant he had sent to get his tether. “Where is my tether?!” An assistant returned empty-handed, stuttering for fear of negative reprisal. “U..uh…uh I can’t f-f-f-find it. I looked in all of your usual spots sir” Huffing and clearly disturbed by what he considered the inadequacy of one of his employees, he was about to begin a slew of lashing verbal assaults at everyone around him before he remembered his feeble heart again and calmed himself down. “Ok just run over and find a fellow and let them know I need you to use their tether to contact Luz. Let her know that what I believed would happen has finally happened and she needs to let the council…hell let the Light of Illyria know we need to get everyone to tackle this problem now!” The kingdom of Illyria was a compact area if you take into account the near million inhabitants that somehow managed to cram themselves into compartments lest they opt to cohabitate within a pocket zone. The area that surrounded Illyria was treacherous and unforgiving, however, housing all manner of creatures created by the enemies of the past and the hubris of those who were not respectful of their king. Heron’s only concern, however, was that he could continue his research and this odd event while obviously a portent of bad things to come could help his cause into ears that were much more powerful than the old fools within the council. The young assistant frantically searched for Luz, asking with short breath about her whereabouts for quite some time until someone finally managed to give her some decent intel. Luz had been rumored to be scolding someone regarding their recent miscalculations of the data from their agricultural experiments attempting to infuse them with enchantments for use in a pinch. The lasting effects were far too lopsided to be accurate and such a thing was a stain on this department’s name she needed to wash clean. The young assistant arrived in the vicinity and gained her bearings by listening to the yelling in the distance. “We do not do mediocre work here you simpleton. Were you using the right equipment? Did you employ the best enchanters or pick some off of some slum somewhere?! I should suspend you for your stupidity…you know what…..” “Ms. Luz…um…uh….” A pair of fierce grey eyes shot in the young assistant’s direction, silver tresses contrasting sunkissed flesh well. Luz was a tall imposing figure that clearly maintained herself well as rumor had it she had an intense workout regimen that rivalled their ranger division. Dressed with form fitting fabric that held some sort of ethereal sheen to it and several insignias that denoted her place within the scientific division, she was pleasing to the eye but her reputation for being unabashedly blunt and controlling did her no favors with the Illyrian men. “Out with it already!” “Heron sent me to tell you that there are some dimensional anomalies occurring outside the kingdom and that he believes it is serious enough to warrant everyone’s attention” “Of course he does. How convenient that it happens to be on the eve of the end of his pipedream” “But ma’am….he seems serious. He even mentioned that king Raylon should know about it. I don’t think he would do that just to save our project” Luz’s delicate hands stroked her own chin before she shot a glare at the scientist she was just speaking to suggesting she had yet to finish with him but the assault was delayed for now. “Fine, I will round up whoever I can. If it turns out he is wrong then I will make sure they laugh him out of the department one last time.” The young assistant just nodded and slinked away to rest somewhere from having run so much. Heron began analyzing the data from the initial dimensional anomalies and noticed a familiar signature within the waves that were being emitted. Years ago when he was just starting his research, he had picked up on these readings only to find out the portals that were created had been sanctioned by king Raylon himself as he had managed to broker a deal with some foreign queen for some much needed supplies when he had feverishly inquired about it. He’d learn much later about the scandal it had caused given that foreign queen was some sort of vampyre named Irene Gabriela DuGrace. He had believed that no further contact was going to be established after they became self-sustaining. That couldn’t have possibly changed. Whipping his head to the other side, he had almost forgotten that Luz and those she convinced to come were urging him to deliver some sort of explanation about why he had forced Luz to bring them here. So it began… “My fellow co-workers. I believe that something or someone is creating several compact tears into another realm. Most of my initial data seems to point to the realm of that vampyre queen….” Several people gasped in horror and others huffed in disgust while a select few just arched a brow before Heron continued. “I suggest we come together to figure out more about these tears and gain control over these areas before it is too late. We never knew much about what resided within that realm before and were never given the opportunity to see for ourselves but I fear Illyria is in danger once again.” Some shouted “What if your readings are wrong”. Others kept it short by just yelling “Lies” or “Fool” before storming off. The few that remained were far too few in number to have ever prevented what began to occur hours after. Flickers of Ceyana’s landscape would appear and disappear violently, giving way to humid air and vegetation. All manner of flora and fauna would also appear, with some unfortunate beasts getting quartered or imploding once they arrived. Glimpses of a populated market were reported on the outskirts of the Illyrian spire, with horrific screams contributing to a cacophony of pain and strife that pounded into the peace that had once been. Bodies of those who were out on data collection runs or hunting for specimens decorated the rough lands outside in a macabre but potent display that this event was on a scale that exceeded man alone. What was left of their bodies were seared along their extremities from being torn viciously by an unknown energy into what they would find was Orisia. The beginnings of the rapture of Illyria were some of the most chaotic times since the dark centuries preceding the Light’s arrival. The litany of portals that were created were slowly beginning to coalesce as both realms fought for dominance against the whims of two deities. It would seem inevitable change was coming and neither Illyria nor Orisia would ever be the same. Antigua Map and City Key: Bestiary Thread:
  6. paradigm

    ...well, that happened.

    Word spread surprisingly fast in Izral, especially considering the disparity of power between the classes and a lack of any true governmental organization at play. That news could even traverse the expanse of the region was miraculous enough, never mind the veracity of the claims. They, being the talkers that ‘They’ were, claimed the slave market of Izral was in ruins. The life blood of several powerful merchant princes was being spilt and the grossly wealthy addressed the issue as only they could...by throwing money at it. With the slave trade on its last legs many merchant Princes were forced to protect their own interests: a mercenary’s wet dream. The call for bounty hunters had never been so loud as it was now. Velleh Ah’bjyd was far from the wealthiest merchant prince, but he was certainly the most vain. Unfortunately, for Ah’bjyd his obsessive need for the finer things in life left him practically destitute. Aside from his lavish estate, the Merchant Prince was virtually penniless and with the slave trade dwindling, necessity saw him parting with some of his more exotic artifacts just to maintain his luxurious lifestyle. Mercenaries and bounty hunters alike flocked to the various merchant princes to offer their services. Whether to fill the ranks of the Prince's personal guard, or to hunt down any fleeing servants who thought to make off with pricey trinkets amidst the turmoil. So it was that Garland found himself welcomed with open arms (so to speak) at the Ah’bjyd estate. In truth, his reasons for being there had little to do with the acquisition of coin and everything to do with sweet, sweet revenge. It took every ounce of Garland's self control to even look at the Ah'bjyd estate without vomiting. Every step he made felt weighed down by the shackles no longer fastened about his limbs. Peering down at scarred wrists, the youth ran an absent minded hand over the white patches of flesh that marred his otherwise tan complexion. It truly was a miraculous happenstance, this thorn in slavery’s side. No one thought the tall broad youth anything more than another sell sword. The heavyset man stationed at the guard house, waved Garland in and gestured for him to stand out of the doorway. "It's protocol..." the large man said, running thick fingers through his patchwork beard. "We get so many of you folks...er...I mean workers...not Izrali...I'm half-Izrali myself, on my mother's side...um...." Garland quirked a brow, uncertain exactly how one addressed a harmless faux pas. Truthfully, there were a great many social cues, the broad youth was rather clueless about. "Is Lord Ah'bjyd at the estate?" Garland asked, struggling to keep an even tone. The guard nodded. "Doesn't leave...um...er...Oh, I need your name...and uh...oh yeah, are you applying for a guard posting or were you um...here for something else." Garland pointed at the man, "The first one...the Guard posting. Yep. I'm a...expert at...keeping people alive," The heavyset man nodded his head and flipped through various forms on the table. "Great! Great! We...ah...we've been a little short staffed as of late...um...what with the um...difficulties with the unpaid laborers departing." Unpaid laborers? Garland had never heard slaves referred to as such, but he supposed it wasn't technically wrong. The heavyset guard rose from his chair and handed Garland a slip of parchment and a pen. "Fill this out and we'll contact you within 48 hours..." Garland did not take the pen. "I was hoping to start immediately." The guard paused and shook his head. "Captain Rothschild will want to do a small background check on you, it's not strenuous...just a cursory thing..." Garland peered down at the pen. It was going to be difficult to fill that form out when he couldn't even read. Already things seemed to be derailing in a monumental fashion. "Ah...I can't really read." Garland explained. "Just never really picked it up." It wasn't unheard of, some children from the Izrali slums never attended a day of school...so long as they assumed Garland to be an Izrali peasant and not an escaped slave... "Oh...um...what did you say your name was again?" The guard asked, turning back towards his desk, a large pudgy hand reaching for his radio." Garland moved without thinking and slammed his hand into the guard's back, using a rush of air to slam the large man against the desk with enough force to drive the wind out of him and send a stream of spittle against safety glass in front of him. "So much for that plan..." Garland muttered to himself, reaching down to snap the guard's neck with practiced ease. The sound and scent of loosening bowels filled the guardhouse, prompting Garland to sigh heavily. "Well...I don't think your pants would have fit me anyway..."
  7. KittyvonCupcake

    Book|Ends [Hub]

    Book|Ends OVERVIEW Whether you are searching for a novel on the Daily Weekly bestseller list, an original handwritten account of a half-mad ancient prophetess, or an enchanted tome that grants its owners the power of spontaneous levitation, Book|Ends is here for all of your literary needs. Currently located in the Northeastern part of Ashville, this multileveled building resembles what would happen if an architect fond of columns smashed a historical university’s snobbish library and a museum with a lot of stairs together and then filled it to the brim with books. A set of massive double doors, crafted of heavy wood imported from the Dark Forest, leads one into the Main Room. It is an expansive area, noted for its patterned marble tile and the wooden bookcases that stretch along the walls. Natural lighting pours through skylights and large windows, which have been enchanted to filter out harmful rays that may cause any damage to the texts on display. A fountain, minimalistic and elegant in design, is situated before the collection of shelves containing fictional works. Two desks for customer service are built against the walls on either side of the fountain, as fitting with the symmetrical theme of the store’s architectural structure. Employees at these desks conduct purchases, appraise mundane books for sales and returns, and contact other associates for special requests. Displays advertising suggested literature can be found atop small tables flanking the rows of main level shelves. Off of the Main Room are quieter reading areas, noted for their selection of comfortable seating. The reading areas are decorated with a more bohemian flair. Plush rugs from the Arcane East line the floors and various works of art, ranging from Classical period oil paintings to contemporary prints, can be found clinging to the wall spaces not overtaken by shelves. Rarer works of literature can be found in these separate rooms. A private office is situated in the back right-hand corner of the store. The door is rarely noticed upon first glance, as it is crafted from the same dark stained wood as the bookshelves and seems to exude an aura that wards off potential visitors. “Mister Draug Rhavon” is embossed in silver upon the door. It will not disappear no matter how hard the Mister Draug Rhavon in question scrubs and scrapes at it. Another set of double doors, smaller than those that serve as the front entrance, lead out to shaded courtyard full of exotic plant life. A koi pond and seating provide a scenic respite from city life. The Second Level is where one can find nonfiction work. There are two sets of stairs that lead up to the upper floor, as well as an elevator located at the back of the Main Room, near the restrooms. Like the Main Room, wall to ceiling bookshelves are found on this level. Because the upper floor overlooks the lower, it is advised that customers avoid dangling over the balustrades. The fall would be most unpleasant. The Second Level contains the Retrieval Request Desk, a circular structure that mirrors the fountain’s design. Employees manning the Retrieval Request Desk appraise enchanted tomes, scrolls, grimoires, and other forms of text that house magical properties. They also process requests filed for the Retrieval Specialist team and handle payment from clients. This can be done in person or through holo-calls, official directives signed by a notary (or another authority), messenger imp, crystal-powered communication spells, smoke signal, blood sacrifice, or politely worded letters. Six private conference rooms can be found off the main wings of the Second Level, as well as a two rooms dedicated for Tome Translation and Minor Book Repairs, respectively. The cafe, once overrun by arcane-enhanced raccoons, is now fully functioning and provides the best selection of tea south of Blairville. Might I also recommend sampling the mille-feuille? Beneath Book|Ends lies the Basement Level. Closed off to the public and well protected by systems both mystical and technological, the Basement serves as a Storage Facility. This is also where enchanted texts and magical artifacts are brought for safe examination before they are placed on the Book|Ends Catalog. Copies of the Catalog are available at each Help Desk. Individual copies can be delivered to anyone on the Book|Ends Mailing List. If any customer wishes to examine an item housed within the Storage Facility, an associate will bring the requested object to one of the conference rooms upstairs for the customer to inspect in private. The Book|Ends staff would appreciate it if customers could refrain from summoning eldritch beings or becoming possessed by malicious spirits hellbent on earthly destruction. Every written word that passes through these doors is stored within the Book|Ends database. Although it is accessible to associates only, Book|Ends does accept requests for assistance with research for a negotiable fee. If one wishes to conduct their research alone, associates can pick through the database for the best reading materials pertaining to one’s quest for knowledge. All it takes is one simple question. NOTABLE EMPLOYEES Draug Rhavon Ioreth Rhavon Godric Uldwar CURRENT EVENTS As the event’s title suggests, Book|Ends is hosting a weekend long special that invites local craft breweries to sample their wares in store. Poets, authors, research analysts, and the rest of those odd folks keen on slapping words onto paper or other mediums have been granted the opportunity to sign copies of their work, provide readings and lectures, and have their pick at the free food offered in the courtyard. Anyone that spills their drinks will face such harsh censure that they may pray for a swift and merciful execution. Live musicians can also be found out in the courtyard. One can only hope that they manage to refrain from awakening the beast that slumbers at the bottom of the pond. Ioreth Rhavon, Head Retrieval Agent, named it Stephen. She likes to feed it grapes. REQUEST LOG To Be Announced FLYERS Want to advertise your own business, event, organization, or enterprising character? Shoot me a PM and we can showcase it here. (Contact @LastLight for all your blacksmith-y needs.)
  8. Venus Sprite

    A Fellowship in Frost

    “This party had better be worth it,” Torie huffed, a wry smile on her face as she leaned into her harness. “My feet are aching. My back is aching. I’m hungry.” Though she didn’t say it out loud, she really hoped Reitu could look at her feet and that Azul would find something delicious for dinner. But she didn’t want to put pressure on them. Chief Kasat was doing enough of that already. Eager to get to the wedding, he had pushed the herds and their keepers to a brisk pace the last couple of days, and Torie was having a hard time keeping up. “Come on, Torie,” called Simot, a Shinoki boy of nine, who overtook her with speed on a sled pulled by at least twenty Shinoyed dogs – large, fluffy and eager things with all-white fur and more guts than brains. Just looking at them made Torie’s mouth water. “You’re going to come last again!” “I am… pulling… the most,” she said, huffing but doing her best to pick up the pace. “And I’m pulling the most by myself!” Indeed, her sled was easily the largest in the tribe – that’s what you get for being a giant tiger among an army of minute tribespeople, dogs and reindeer. But she knew she shouldn’t complain. The exercise would do her well, and the company was excellent. She’d come to love this tribe almost as much as her own. “Come on, fatty!” Simot called. Almost as much. Torie’s tongue lolled out of her mouth and her breath huffed like a steam engine’s chute into the cold and frosty air. But Torie wasn’t cold. She could barely keep cool enough, even with the hard packed snow beneath her feet. She tried to get a rhythm going that didn’t impede too much on her expansive body, but one can only work with 1500 pounds in so many ways. She’d gotten far too fat, she knew it, and it made even simple things difficult. So it was with some relief that Chief Kasat raised his hand and called out “Set camp,” and all the other sleds gathered in around him. Torie pulled the sled in behind Simot’s before flopping onto her expansive belly, frosty clouds still erupting from her gaping mouth. “Can someone… please… unharness me from this ball and chain?” she panted, noting with a grimace the throbbing in her ankles. She closed her eyes. “It’s good for you, Torie. It won’t be long now and you can eat your weight in whale.” A toothy smile spread across her stripy feline face as she imagined the banquet that awaited them. Whale would be on the menu, sure. But also seal, salmon, walrus… maybe even some shark. If she was really lucky there might even be squid. She could never get enough squid. These days on the sled had hardened her muscles but had done nothing to reduce the layer of fat that covered her ribs and legs and neck and face and… well, everything. She realised what a sight she must look, a stripy blob sprawled on the snow. But right now she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Anyone…?”
  9. The airship landed on the lush grass of the dock. It could have landed in the sea, but then it probably sink. And Rowan not being so big, it was how they landed any aircraft. Unless it came crashing from the sky. Rin exited the ship as she looked at the people around her. Hearing the exploits of what happened in the two islands of Talia and Allia. Two dead elders at the hands of the beast. She wondered if they connected it to her yet. She didn't know. At the same time she casually strolled into the heart of Argyll-Obelisk. She knew that she would have to reach the bigger city to find the elder. But for now she wanted to visit the temple. It use to house an artifact. But now it held nothing but old whispers and wind. And it sounded interesting. She heard that the sorceress Sabbath hung around the temple. It could be a good opportunity to gain an ally to her side. Or probably another chance to fall deeper into the darkness. For now she checked into the Shady Iris Inn and rented a room. For now the local gossip would fuel her mind to see what was going on in time. "The world is ending. Two elders dead. How many more will fall before the tide of war kills us all?!" "The beast has come to Rowan. We need to stand up to it. The elder will help us If we ask him!" "Thats how the last two fell! We are doomed." Climbing the stairs to the last room on the left, she heard the scared patrons of the inn. How things unraveled to the point the elders were dying. Yet no children or seeds made their appearance yet. And she wondered why. Closing the oak door to her room, Rin flopped onto the bed exhausted. She also wondered why Flanna would be mad at her, her only friend in the world at the moment even though she was demon and she said nothing. She sighed. Closing her eye she tried to sleep.
  10. Cinder

    Redeye Ruckus [Quest B]

    Redeye Ruckus The Free City of Izral was a field of poppies. Scarlet blooms reaching desperately for the sky, to drink in the light that nurtures. But, rise too tall, and the harvestman’s scythe would swipe off your head. Torek Redeye had rose high in the past month. Had. The cards favored him, promised him sweet, sweet dreams in the form of pills, a nice place to sleep, and perhaps a vacation to one of the villages. Then the cards bent him over and fucked him. Such was life. The difference, was, this time, he had bit off too much. Too many favors burned, too many loans taken. Redeye had gotten this far from pushing his luck, but push it any more and the reputation he had won for himself would break, dragging him screaming into the abyss. So just as always, he took it upon himself to find honest work. Honest casing, honest deals, honest blackmails, honest frauds and an honest group of rebels descending upon the Daius’ shipment only to find the weapons and supplies cleaned out. An honest, anonymous letter to one of the 12 Kings. An honest fee that would wipe off his debts. With the side deals he had made, Redeye had already set up some understandings with his creditors. The harvestman’s scythe passed over him, and he found himself alive and smelling like roses and sex. He was standing in front of a window, the revelry of the nightclub rumbling below, the gentle snore of an escort in his suite. His coarse hand pressed on the glass pane as he downed some more beer. There, in the jungle of buildings, he hid his stash. The rebellion would pay him handsomely for the weapons. He had his big break after the worst week in his life. “Mmh, enjoying the view?” his partner said. Turning from the window, Redeye grinned and wasn’t sure which view he liked better. “Oh, yes, very.” What could possibly go wrong now? He hummed happily to himself as he headed back to bed, ignorant of the metaphorical gaze of the Daius, and the literal gaze of a Daius agent, reading his name on a piece of paper, somewhere far away from the brothel. @Keen @-Lilium- @Rin
  11. Moth

    Winds of change.

    “This is your first venture alone, little one.” The deep, calm baritone of her father’s voice echoed in the empty meeting hall. For once, she was thankful the diplomats and politicians had been shuffled out. It was rare she had time alone with him, and before such an exciting—and frightening prospect before her she was grateful she was granted the opportunity. “Yes it will be. Was there anything else you need to tell me? There wasn’t a change in plans was there?” The man chuckled at the question, shaking his head gently at her polite tone and professional questions. He lifted himself from his throne of gold and sparkling rubies, stepping down the short stairs that separated them. She took her duties seriously, and that was expected of her and he always praised her for that. But for right now, the Warlord wanted nothing more than to simply embrace his only child. So, he did. Well-muscled arms reached out only to scoop the lithe girl in his strong embrace. Initially, her muscles tensed in surprise. She knew he loved him, but there was little physical affection between them. Soon, the embrace was returned and she squeezed the man tightly in return. They remained this way, only for a few seconds tbefore he released his hold. “You will come home to me and hopefully with new ways for us and our people to prosper. You have not failed us yet.” His words of comfort came with a light pat to her back and a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “Your guide is waiting. Do not disappoint me little one, or do not come home. “ Great. No pressure. She was still unsure how she felt about the man charged with her care. A Yokai? She was fairly certain that was the word she had been looking for. Large, bat ears sat upon his ears to match the large leathery wings that sprouted from his back. He looked close to mortal, but those bestial features made it obvious that they were not. She didn't know much about him, he had shown up at their gates many years ago. His kind was new to their lands, but his friendly demeanor and quick wit quickly one their court and her father over. Not to say that the man wasn't intelligent, he had many stories of places had been, but there was always one he spoke of the most. Taurus. Never first hand accounts, always stories passed from companion to companion. He knew enough to get her there, she had an idea of those she need to speak too and he even was willing to foot the bill himself. Her father would of course compensate him. Their lands were overflowing with precious metals and gems, many of which they used for the alchemist creations that made the oasis famous. He said he would be cold, but she hadn't been prepared for how cold it would be. When she stepped from the gate from their home to this new land, she was hit with a chilling rush. Her hands reached to cross over her chest and clutch at her arms in surprise. The silks and gauze that draped her figure were no match for these chilly winds. "I told you to dress warm." He chided as the gate snapped shut at their backs. A frown set upon her face, her head whipping around to stare at the tan man and his teasing smile. "I did dress warm, Lukas. How do people live here, this is awful." Lukas laughed at her complaints, the girl would be fine but she certainly would not be comfortable. "Once we get to the city, we can get you warmer. I am not sure any place here will be hot enough for your liking though, Madame Noya. " Her nose wrinkled at the title, "Noya. Madame makes me sound so... old. " "-- Then how about Princess, that is likely more accurate isn't it?" Her eyes rolled at the Bat demon, who chuffed softly at her dismay. " We'll go with Miss Noya then. Before we leave, your father asked me to give you something." Lukas stepped closer to the girl as he pulled a small satchel from his pocket from which he pulled a wide, golden bangle. "I've been told that you take great pride in the way you look. So I feel I must apologize for its effects. However, your father insists. " She took the bangle tenderly, taking a moment to inspect the item. The well polished, golden surface held no markings and was broken only by the few large ruby settings it had. She raised an eyebrow in confusion, effects? It wasn't until she peeked along the inside of the bangle did she notice the inscriptions. Old, very, very old. She took her time quietly attempting to decipher them, and Lukas allowed her the time to do it. "Illusion?" "You'll see, please put it on so we may continue. " She pulled her gaze over to the man before finally slipping the bangle over her wrist. Now she understood what he meant. Her skin paled to a soft blue, traditional tattoos twisting over her skin where there have never been any. Dark, shifting hair now snow white and the heavy smell of ozone lingering in her presence. Her clothing changed, but only in color. The rich yellows and oranges she wore now softening to gentle blues and grays of the air district. Fascinating. "He's paranoid, that old man of mine." "He is, however we have no time to dawdle. We are already behind, so please, follow me. " The thick, leathery wings on his back flapped and the man took a short, running start before he took off. She was not long behind him, she took a small run and then jumped knowing the winds would catch her fall. Even with the added weight of her documents, the winds held her aloft as they always did. To Taurus and to hopefully a peaceful welcome.
  12. There was an unrivaled stillness in the air. The city seemed to hold its breath as the morning mist veiled the mountain. The wind billowed and swirled gently, quietly—as if in reverence for the dead. Twenty-two individuals were garbed in white silk. They stood outside the Great Hall at the Pavilion of Prayers in somber silence. Every move, every act was well practiced. They stood equidistant in pairs of two, primly holding the long piece of paper that bore the name of their loved one. There was no crying. There were no tears to be shed. Mourning had passed—now it was on towards duty. Duty to lay the dead to rest. They were organized by their rank. Nobles and Knights at the head. Merchants and Scholars. The civilians were last. It felt wrong for Sabine to grip the delicate piece of paper that she did. In Vaadenian her lover’s name was scrawled with a practiced hand in beautiful black ink. It felt wrong because Sabine knew what she had seen. Though her lover was but ash, she knew that somewhere, somehow Efrideet was alive and enslaved. The skies were grey as clouds lazily stretched across them, though the sun tried to peek out from time to time. They waited in patient silence for the rest of the ceremony to finish its completion. Somehow this day could not end soon enough. The Great Hall had already filled with those who had come, but ample space had been made for the ceremony and funerals. “Ja’kaarn se Laa’zera!” Enter for the Queen! A herald called for them. Loud, precise and commanding—and so they would proceed with their practiced gait.
  13. In a world filled with microorganisms of all types, there was always a struggle to become dominate. At first it was just regular microbs destroying microbs. However the presence and fleeing of an extraterrestrial microb known as Z-35 around 2000 years ago visited and used the world as its little 'experiment' granting them the level of sentience that it was gifted Decades went by after it fled as fights and battles grew in numbers throughtout the various microbs. Within 1657 years only 6 remained and by the year 1978 only three were left The Corilians being the most dominant as they have the most organized coral reef cities and had begun gaining atomic power The RexRexo red Algae was second being a raypunk society yet having spots in their territory where technology was less developed Then there were also the Manitrix who instead of technology uses magic to defend against the war. Alas it was pointless as in 1996 they were destroyed by a sudden barrage of atomic weapons Then there were two As the Rexrexo algae had begun their own atomic weapons, at this time some had begun building exo-skeletons out of steel and copper, often requesting that several algae bond together for it to operate. However our story starts in a less developed colony of algae, it didnt really have a name none but the capital has a name called Agirea yet the colony was sorly known as a lesser state and thus though it not be its name it was known as lesser state 5# one of the newer colonies, it was to be a buffer to pervent the coral hordes from invading the land by blocking one of several passage ways, if this plan worked then it'll give them time to build up an army sufficient enough to stop the hordes Thats when it happened, all that was heard was a terrifying screeching sound followed by the sound of rushing water, as if the water was flowing out to somewhere. The whole colony was ripped from its attachments and got sucked up by a disk shaped portal that proceeded to suck up all of the algae in the colony, closing suddenly seconds later leaving a gap where the colony used to be...... -[somewhere in Eastern Oo'xora near a stream]- The colony was dropped into the slow going stream where it eventually setteled on the ground, the shock of this would cause panic as they have been dropped in unknown and unreached territory....
  14. Aleksei

    Fire and the Flood

    House Mythal " You think you will have any of your own?" "What, wine? You know I don't have the stomach for it." Austere looked at his brother unamused. You never felt in one place with Milorian, as if he was the sole individual making the world revolve and if he stopped, so would it. A strange round-aboutness, it could drive a man crazy just to get a straight answer out of the elf. "Milo ..." "Don't look so sour, Austere. I was only joking." Milo looked down at the small body resting peacefully in his lap. He would have forgotten about the child, so light he felt and so quiet he has been the last few hours. Easton was by far the most well-behaved child out of the rest, and often enough Milorian has admitted (to himself only) to spoiling the boy with the attention he does not need. It wasn't out of pity, the elf told himself for the thousandth time, it was out of love and pride and joy - especially joy. The child was a weakness of his, though if asked he would push the subject aside and pursue another route of thinking. He hated being put on the spot about emotional attachments. Idly, he sifted his fingers through the child's white hair (a homage to his Mythal name) and allowed himself a brief smile. Children would be a wish come true, yes. Brooding eyes looked out the window of his humble quarters; there was so much to do that wishes and dreams have to be set aside. "Maybe someday, though Ronan and Terra will have already populated our ranks enough by then I won't have to worry about trying." "So I've heard! At this point, it's unnatural to see Terra not heavy with child!" Austere's laugh made his brother chuckle in reply, the action and sound oddities to the both of them. It felt wonderful just to speak, to laugh and think about the future. Milo lost himself in thought, still stroking Easton's hair, occasionally fiddling with the pointedness of the child's ear. Austere watched his brother, admiring the man that fit perfectly in their father's chair while he entertained himself with the sleeping child. The Dred Wolves have fought through the lines of partition, spilled their blood for the people of their home, died in the name of deserved justice. They all did their part of maintaining their house and name, most of the work done by Milorian. Looking upon his brother, he did not envy his position as head of the house. "Are you prepared for tonight?" If at all possible, Milo's frown deepened as he sighed, apparently forgetting that tonight was rife with celebration. Head of the house, sure, but he had no power over his mother and sisters; they had him wrapped around their finger, and he didn't have the strength to fight them. He was gotten. "No," he cradled Easton in his arms, needing something to keep him anchored. People will be filling their home this evening, and he wasn't prepared to face any of them just yet. "You could have - no, no you couldn't have." Austere was older than Milo. Thus he's had years of practice to stay stalwart against their mother's insistence. The memory of his brother folding under their mother's suggestions, her backing being the wives of the family, all the while their father stood back in false ignorance, made him smirk. There was entirely no surviving the attack; they laid siege to Milo's defenses, already weak and poor. "Tonight then?" "Do you have to ask?" Easton briefly woke up as he was exchanged between hands. Austere was a gentle man whose attachment to his only child is needy and often overbearing. Though such actions could be considered the norm, for the Mythal's are known for their selfishness towards their family and its growth. Their wounds were also still very fresh, the terrible loss of their brother and Austere’s wife and child still hung on the Mythal’s sharp shoulders; Austere was allowed his possessiveness. Some hours later he was trying to find his footing, thwarted continuously by grabbing hands that spin him in a reel he’s relatively unfamiliar with. His mother had unceremoniously pushed him into the dancing circle, and he was immediately assaulted by a young woman with vibrant flowers woven into her hair and a smile that sparkled. He did not return her smile, quickly he spun out, but he was fresh pray to the eager and was once again victim to the celebratory dance. Somewhere on the edges of his hazy mind, he heard his siblings snickering, his mother joyfully clapping her hands to the tune, and his sisters-in-law cackling at the scene of poor Milo dancing awkwardly. “All of you are banished!” Milorian yelled once he escaped; long fingers worked to adjust the elaborate robes he wore. His hair had been braided, a red ribbon threaded through it, but now all that hard work demolished. “That didn’t work the first time, what makes you think it will now?” Ronan yelled over the music, his right hand resting comfortably on the lower back of his pregnant wife. His blue eyes were dancing, and his stupid smile was shaking from how extensive it was spread against his equally foolish face. Milo glared at the laughing group, his blue hues turning into daggers aimed directly at all their heads. As the youngest he was the most natural target; for years he has been taken blows from his brothers without delivering any of his own. While the Mythal’s are known for their prowess of speech, he lacks the art of insult, especially against these monsters. “Behave,” Terra playfully slapped her husband’s shoulder. Ever the opportunist, Ronan grabbed the hateful hand and began to slather kisses along each digit. This poor display made their audience groan. Crossroads was alive. The bridge had been decorated by the people of the Free Marches; garlands of flowers thrown everywhere, banners of the Dred Wolf hung at every entrance, the wine was flowing from every corner, food nearly bowed the trestle tables, and the people … the people were okay. Tomorrow they may remember the aches and pains, but for a moment in time, they are given the freedom to mingle and speak of the weather, their families, the game of chess they’ve lost to their child - anything. Tonight is meant for celebration and gods willing they will celebrate.
  15. Fennis Ursai

    A Silver Ticket Gamble

    For a long while, it had seemed as thought Vashka would not see some field action for a good long while. Being called on for a job like this was troubling though, being as it was recruitment type work which was becoming more and more a staple of the company dealings of of late. Either way, he was happy to be on the job. The heavily armored goblin found a nice place amidst the 'Pavilion' area of town to watch the crowds of people come and go. His heavy plate armor was luckily cooled on the inside, if it wasn't for the inside lining, he would never wear this suit in weather that was as hot as it was. It seemed very strange for the set up of this job to involve a non-disclosed location, making the possible mercs have to seek him out, though The End Game was a bit of a secretive fellow on occasion. Either way, he chalked it up as commitment and dedication to the job ahead. From his seat at a local cafe, Vashka had tipped his helm back and was enjoying an early morning of spiked coffee, dark roast with a nice spike of some dark spiced rum. The day so far wasn't a bad day, it was his second day in blairville. Overall the city was nice but not his kind of town. A few sips from his coffee and it was becoming a good start of the day. While not drinking from his mug, Vashka would simply toss his helm back over his face and keep a place near the road so those looking for him could easily see him..though it wasn't that hard to notice him being his armor was bulky and a light tint of blue, almost bearing a knightly presence for such a short figure. Then there came the situation of having to use a false name..why? Why now of all times to use a false name, it wasn't like anyone was coming after them, at least best he knew anyways. Though this job held a few oddities to it, he wouldn't complain much seeing as how it wasn't really his place to question The End Game's methods. Instead he simply sat back, took a good view of the place, and let himself relax. Anything to keep him away from the tavern he called home right now, that place was a bit dangerous for the time being.
  16. Locations: Chateau De Choisel - Quin’s Lab, the gardens and the labyrinth. “Das ist Ira.” Quin slurred “IRA. Wenn du ihn siehst, verletze ihn nicht.” This is Ira...I-R-A, if you see him, don’t hurt him! Quin was holding up the only picture of Ira she possessed, normally hidden away in the depths of one of her drawers where she was unable to look at it, her drunken and drugged out.state allowed her to carry it with her where ever she went. She waived it in front of Otto, who sat on the ground in the gardens. He was crushing a black rose bush under his bulk as he sat there cross legged listening too her intently. She’d taken to calling herself “mommy” when she was in this state, insisting she teach her ‘baby’ his duties. This just so happened to be the day that he was slated to go wander the labyrinth and keep intruders out - all except Ira of course - which in Quin’s current mind set - she was poisitive that he was going to magically appear at any moment. His picture told her so after all. Otto just continued to breath in that raspy watery rattle he had while she lectured him. ‘Wenn es Ira ist, bring ihn zu mir, direkt zu mir.” She continued, swaying a little, “Versuche nicht, ihn zu essen, nicht einmal einen kleinen Zeh! Verstehst du mich?” If you see Ira, bring him directly to me....Don’t try to eat him, not even a little toe, do you understand me? She waited until she saw him nod and nodded too, sitting down on the ground as well as she was quite dizzy and the dust was wearing off. She felt tired, exhausted, like she needed more. But no she must sleep, and she must eat. “Gut. Sie können alle anderen töten. Mama wird ein Nickerchen machen. Du übst ein wenig in den Gärten.” Good, you can kill everyone else. Now Mommy is going to have a nap, You can practice in the gardens while I’m gone. She swaggered to her feet and stumbled into the lab where she had a cot waiting for her to sleep it off. Her head already killing her from her latest drinking bender, she grumbled a little and closed the door behind her, hoping to get some undistrubed sleep. Otto watched her for a moment, then given full permission for destruction, which he so loved, leapt up and with a roar began to parade around the gardens, smashing plants, gazebo’s and terrorizing the servants that were wandering about instead of where they belonged. Quin rigged a few cadavers to hang from the hedges for him to find as an exercise. She made sure they were really secure so it would take him some time to get them before he could eat them. A busy - creature - was a happy one after all. Soon he would be ready to wander the Labryinth, terrorizing the occupants in it and destroying the tombstones and vaults. Happily busy with his job, until then, the gardens would take a beating, as would the rest of the outside areas to the Chateau that he happened to wander into, like the courtyard. @Greenmntman @Etched in Stone @Twitterpated @Eternity @HumanBean03
  17. DarkHorse

    Under The Hot Desert Sun

    Khepri's feet traversed the familiar, invisible path that wound through the sand. The giant tusked beast that walked beside her carrying all she needed, except water, she trusted the beast to find water - and it usually did. White and red paint decorated it, marking it as her's, around its neck and tusks hung the bones of small animals she gathered. The clacking sound they made kept away the sand cat's, big ferocious animals that preyed on anything that moved or breathed. Their expert feet easily walked across the sand and around the bones of long dead beasts that didn't survive the harsh heat during the day and the cold at night. After 5 years of exile she could finally return. 5 long years of selling her sword and her talent to make a meager living. That was the custom after all, 5 years in the outside world would at least erase some of her "shame." Now she could return to her temple and resume her rightful place, priestess to the high Sun Goddess. The long days of travel were hard, the heat welcome, but uncomfortable after her time in a milder climate. Her trained eyes spotted the tall lookout posts that marked the beginning of the main path to the temple. Typically two priestesses would perch there and keep a lookout for newcomers - good and bad ones. Khepri let out a chirrup sound, a common way for Priestesses to alert the others to their presence. Eerie silence met her ears, she tried again and yet still no response.... Something was horribly wrong. Khepri clambered her way up the gajah and urged it into a run. Its feet eating up the sand and creating a dust storm behind them. She covered her mouth and nose with her wrap and pulled from the void her sword, prepared for trouble....As she passed the guard posts, she noticed that there were no lookouts, her sisters were not there - even more strange. She urged her gajah even faster and the sandstone temple came into view, the wall that protected it looked crumbled and broken in places. As she burst through the broken main gate, a cry ripped from her throat. The temple was abandoned - the once carefully tended and lush gardens destroyed. The sounds of song and work were gone. She entered into the temple to find it was looted, destroyed, only the outer walls stood and the rest inside was burned. Even more egregious was the smashed remains of Sun Goddesses statue, her ever burning flame snuffed out. Instead - in her place - stood a crude statue of a man. One she knew all too well, the very one that caused her shame. With an angered yell and a swing of her sword she removed the head off the crude statue and swore on the Sun Goddess that her temple would be restored. This once peaceful place amidst chaos and war and cruelty. The one oasis built to aid any and all that were faithful to the Sun Goddess. The only place that had the clear cool spring to provide a steady flow of water. It now lay in ruin, the charred bones of her sister's scattered about. She crouched, picked up the skull of her fallen sister, placed her forehead to it and let out an anguished cry, mourning her loss. Khepri would spend the day gathering their bones and properly burying them in the depths of the temple. Next she would restore the Sun Goddesses flame, the oil stores left untouched in their hidden cove. As the sun set she wrapped herself in warm furs - a luxury that she obtained from the places she traveled - and she plotted the downfall of the godessless bastard that destroyed her life not once - but twice.
  18. Aleksei

    Wandering Roads

    “Listen, I just wanted to know the price on this scarf and nothing else!” Like talking over a storm, he thought while wearing an exasperated lopsided smirk. The woman didn't like him, and that's perfectly okay in his book, he didn't harbor any love for her either, but damn it! All he wanted to know was the price; it's not like he insulted her ancestors or anything. The likelihood of him buying it was extremely high; was the right color of red, fit just like a glove, and he could justify the purchase. Her ranting and raving at him were only knocking the item down in price, and he was becoming extremely irritated by her attitude. She said something that made him look down at his appearance - come again? He'll have her know that his armor was the best and just because he chose to wear it fashionably doesn't make him some haphazard knight. There are generations and generations built into the black armor, he’s not going to let some wrinkled old hag insult him because he may not fit in with the rest of the crowd. What gave her the gal? The man stood six-feet and at least - at least! - five inches and she was standing up against him like he was just a breeze to her mountainous impersonation. “Listen! I will give you what you want for it, just stop yelling at me!” Harshal said a prayer for the old woman’s family, because if she was his granny … “Wait, what?!” Just as he fished the coin out of its pouch, she slapped him with a preposterous number. He looked at her like she had three heads (matching the current two already protruding from her short frame). “Who has that kind of money?! It's a scarf, a scarf! Did the All-Creator wipe her ass with it?!” By this point, a small crowd of onlookers gathered around the stall to put their noses in not their business. Entertained by the sight of this giant man arguing with an old woman, some felt the need to stick around and see who was going to win this tug-o-war. Harshal is not going to bend knee for this hustler in wrinkles; he is also not leaving without the scarf. Now just a matter of principle, she was wasting his time throwing numbers she’s probably pulled out of her ear, but he’s no fool. He could care less if she’s a lady probably older than dirt itself, she started this whole thing by being snooty with him, and he’s not going to back down. @ourlachesism
  19. Bydo Terrarum DAICHON does not get out much. She stares out into the world from her 3-rd story bedroom window, spacing out at times. She really did not have many friends, save for the ones that tried to come by and get her to come out of her house, for which she rarely did. Her Seaweed Green eyes then turned away from the window and onto the bottle of Ambrosia that her father bought her; she did not have many concerns while at home. Her mother often worked through the night, just having enough time to come home to make dinner and then leave back out. This enraged Bydo much, but she knew that her mother's career was something that she could not protest about. She herself was in High School; a third year to be exact. Her grades were top-notch, but she did not go to any award ceremonies to Honor her performance and dedication. As she poured herself a hefty portion of the alcohol, she then thought about her classes; top grades and yet she did not feel like celebrating. Her little sister Yvonne, aged 13, waltzed into her room, now closing the door behind her. She had a tray of Chicken-Cheese Crepes, along with her own personal flask of Ambrosia. Their father often rested on the weekdays; he worked overnight and seemed pretty exhausted at times, though he had to make errands today to pay a few bills and to meet with the Council On Elder Matters, and that in itself deemed to be very tedious with the construction of the Geostratum coming in the future months. Would Xylex and the others be READY to embark on such n important assignment of re-building their lives? "I brought you something to nibble on dear sister. You cannot stay in your room all day not eat a single bite of food you know. Mother will be very worried about this matter." Said the 13-year old. Bydo giggled, then chugged back the large Goblet of Ambrosia, shifting her head to point over to her night stand for her sister to put the food onto.
  20. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    The moon shone splendid white, in the obfuscated ominous sky, it was the main wellspring of light that could be seen for miles. Beneath its bright glow, lay heavy gates, icy to the touch should you dare open them. Revealing behind them the sight of a little grave yard. Owls, crows, and swarms of vampire bats shudder overhead, their silhouettes casting hazy shadows across the broken stones of those long lost and dead, their eyes watching you as you approach the Château. The uneven cobblestones underfoot, worn smooth from years of use, pitted from years of abandonment are littered with dead leaves and branches that crunch under foot. The path winds its way through a labyrinth of graves, hedges and leaf barren trees creaking in the wind. Pathetic patches of dead grass, dull and dim as though it had lost the will to live and quit its quest for growth. And a single desolate oak, influenced by the breeze whispering into the perpetual night with its leafless branches. All leading up to the grand Château Choisel. Enhanced as it was with foreboding figures and carvings, these Gothic touches stared out with blank marble eyes, gaping mouths, horns and claws spoke of vile evildoings inside. Château Choisel, carved and built deep into the mountain side, stood poised, its dilapidated exterior a mockery to the grandness hidden within. The way to the entryway was congested with hedges and briers whose thistles gave a last effort to stop an unknowing visitors progress. Pruned plants, long dead and abandoned flanked the steel swinging doors. They easily swing open with surprising silence, a sound counter to their dilapidated state. The ghost of hand on the shoulder, a puff of breath on the ear sends chills down the spine, characteristic responses to the sudden drop in temperature enough to drive one back toward the way they've come. The clucking from an imperceptible host and the flutter of movement just out of sight - all lead to one conclusion, this was not a safe place for mortals to tread. Counter to its exterior, superfluous and ornate with a desire for decoration; builders worked tirelessly to design décor and ornamentation to the Chateau. Patterns, shapes, and detail worked together to create a visual effect that was both imaginative and impressive. The interior of the Estate tended to be unique and rambling in its complexity. Multiple bedrooms, second-floor balconies, double doors, ornate stairways, and detailed interior trim. High ceilings, deep archways, carved woodwork, and ornate chandeliers set the stage. A formal dining room ensured enjoyable meals. A library stocked well with books and with a sprawling fireplace provided comfort and warmth. Spacious parlors located throughout the home provided occupants with formal living areas for welcoming guests. Parlors usually featured ostentatious décor such as tasseled draperies, heavy tapestries, dark wood, fireplaces with fancy mantles, and gilded wainscoting. Area: 400,000 SQ FT Population: 1200+ - - - - - - - The Great Hall A multifunction room, the great hall was used for receiving guests and it was the place where the household would dine together, including the lord of the house, his gentleman attendants and at least some of the servants. From time to time it might also serve as the lord's courtroom. The decor as grand as it was imaginative, lent to the greatness of the hall and its importance. Paintings and tapestries, telling stories long lost hung on the walls, framing the ornate molding that encircled grand windows. The large bay window dominating the center wall, offering a glimpse out into the courtyard that lay beyond. The high ceilings supported by thick dark oak beams with paintings of the coat of arms looking down on the visitors, reminding them of who's benevolence they were seeking. A minstrel's gallery lay above the screen entrance to the hall, a little alcove from which music and joviality echoed across the expanse of hall and bounced gaily off the walls. At the other end of the hall, upon a raised dais, sat the head table, its heavy oak frame imposing to all who approached. Only the greatest of the great and most trusted of the Lord and Master would be honored a seat at such a prestigious place. Beyond the dais, behind a heavy oak framed door, the Lord and Master's family private rooms were concealed. A kitchen, buttery and pantry lay on the opposite side of the screen passage. Here lay the largest fireplace of the Chateau used for warmth and some of the cooking, so large a person could stand within it. It had an elaborate over mantle with stone carvings and plasterwork containing coats or arms, heraldic mottoes in Latin, caryatids and other adornments. Though the kitchen itself lies a level lower for the bulk of cooking. The great hall would be rigged with a listening device system allowing conversations to be heard in the lord's bedroom above as well as throughout the entire Chateau. The upper hall contained the Lord and Master's living quarters and bed room, a testament of comfort, lavishness and sin. Off one end of his quarters one had access from the external staircase tower from the ground-floor hall. The smaller ground-floor hall, directly beneath the Lord and Master's quarters, remained for receiving guests of social order. Its adornments and décor just as lavish as the great hall itself, a taste of the rest of the grandness that lay within. Teasing all who entered, filling them with a desire to be invited into the inner sanctum of their Lord and Master. Bed Chambers The Great chamber, the resting place for the Lord and Lady of the Chateau, lay above the ground floor hall. Its ceilings too painted with the crests of the families that presided within the residence. Walls draped with heavy tapestries, and windows that overlooked the courtyard. A large bed dominated the room, the dark oak a stark contrast to the tan of the plaster walls. Red drapes hung from the bed, concealing its comfort and warmth within. A set of lounging chairs were tucked to one side of the room, right near the fireplace. A place for the Lord to entertain his Lady....or other guests. A separate sleeping quarters was built into the structure for servants and attendants to sleep a short distance away from their Master. Ready to answer his call at any time of day or night. The castle hosted a myriad of other rooms, apartments built into the mountain as the residence grew. No windows graced these rooms, but the glow of candles kept it forever illuminated. These rooms were decorated and intended to hold guests rather than residents. Permanent residents were granted other small apartments or rooms based on their status and rank within the Coven. Each one a unique blend of its inhabitant and the history of the residence itself. All dominated by the dark oak that flanked the walls and ceilings in an attempt to support the structure. The Solar A private sitting room for the Lord and Master's family. Its intended audience the Lady of the caslte, a private and quiet getaway for her to hide from the noise of the day should she feel the need to. It is decorated with tapestries and paintings of various types, many pastoral scenes and landscapes. A fireplace not too large and not too small, decorated in a similar fashion to the great hall, hosted ornately carved oak. Upon it's mantle sat a grandfather clock and a vase full of black, thorny roses. It was a secluded spot, away from the great hall, located in the back tower of the outer Chateau, not built into the mountainside. Kitchen Located on the east side of the estate, away from the castle, covered by an arcade. Its location strategic in keeping the smells of smoke, and noise of the bustling kitchen staff away from sight and earshot of guests. Frying pans, pots, kettles, waffle irons, and utensils hang over adjustable cranes that could be easily swung away from the fires to keep them from burning or boiling over. Utensils were often held directly over the fire or placed into embers on tripods. The kitchen staff numbered in the hundreds, including: pantlers, bakers, waferers, sauciers, larderers, butchers, carvers, page boys, milkmaids, butlers and scullions. The kitchen was fully built and equip to handle to the stress of preparing two meals daily for several hundred people. A large woodshed located outside the kitchens held at minimum 1,000 cartloads of wood and a small barn held coal for burning. A pantry room kept the food, dishes and provisions stored and served. Sometimes it served as an isolation chamber for a naughty maid or disobedient page boy. The kitchen also boasted a larder and buttery located within its walls. Chapel Built with three levels, two intended for worship. Its plain decor and focus on worship pressing in upon its prayerful visitors the weight of their religion. The bottom most layer, located beneath the castle, was intended for the catacombs of the Lord and Master's family. The second level, a place of worship for the residents. The third, an ornately decorated level, complete with balcony and chairs that overlooked the second level, designed only for the Lord and Master himself. Off of it a small chapel, perhaps containing a relic, ornately decorated with gold. Cabinet / Library The Library, tucked within the folds of the mountain, was a testament to books gathered, well cared for and stashed away for centuries. Shelves lined the walls, their dark oak free of dust at all times. Comfortable furniture dominated the center of the cool room, the flickering lights from candles in hanging cast iron chandeliers lighting the room adequately enough to read. Hidden away behind a bookcase door, that only the Lord and Master would know about, lay a private chamber with the most valuable books. A place him to do his work undisturbed by guests. A gleaming desk made of mahogany was centered in the small room, a large wing backed chair situated behind it. Boudoir The boudoir is the private suite of rooms for the lady of the house. Specifically for bathing and dressing, adjacent to her bedchamber. The boudoir was also used as her private drawing room, intended to be a sanctum for her to embroider or entertain intimate guests. Dungeon Located in the deepest darkest bowels of the castle, the dungeons hosted prisoners. Its dank walls leaked limestone water coming from inside the mountain, always damp and the air cold. Walls thickened and enchanted to block out the sound of screaming, agony and utter despair of those locked within. It featured no windows and no candles save the torches the jailers used to see as they navigated its narrow hallways. Prisoners were crammed into small cells with no place to sit, often dropped down into them from a trap door located above it. There they struggled in fear, forgotten, until their mortal souls passed from the world and left behind their rotting corpses and eventually nothing but bones and dust. A single torture chamber was situated in the far corner of the dungeons, filled to the brim with various tools of torture, they lined the walls. A long wooden beam that was situated over a stone basin was used to string up prisoners, the basin to catch their blood. Feeding Sanctum A sanctum of sin, located deep within the mountain, a "dungeon" of sorts, used for feeding. A series of prison cells hosted volunteers or varying races and types, all there for indulgence. Dimly lit for ambiance, the light from the cast iron chandeliers flicked across the plaster walls. In exchange for their services they are greatly compensated by the Lord and Master. On a wall opposite the cells was a small bar, there others can come and partake in sins of a different kind. Injecting, snorting or inhaling their drug of choice, reveling in the ecstasy that is rush of chemicals. Here too one can find and have the popular and valuable Elixir of Life, for a cost. They are hosted in clean cells after their ingestion of the brew and held there until after their change. Falconry The circular stone structure boasts itself as the home of pigeons, falcons and eagles used for the hunting pleasure of the Lord and Master and his esteemed gyests. Housed away from trees or areas were predators could take advantage of the important assets. Courtyard Walk through a set of large double glass doors located off the great hall and you will find yourself in a courtyard, whose rival knows no others. Hosting a variety of moon surviving plants, vivid and dark blues, pinks, purples, reds and greens dominate the landscape. Pathways weave through batches of poisonous and deadly plants. Here is the gathering place of men and women, all in an attempt to catch the attention of another. Whether their intentions good or bad, all gather here to try. In an abandoned corner of the courtyard lays a peculiar patch of carefully tilled and cultivated herbs. Out of place in such a deadly and beautifully dark courtyard, it is filled with bright greens, purples, reds, and browns. An enchanted, fake sun hovering over them to encourages them to grow in the perpetual night. Wooden stakes with strings tied to between them outline the perimeter of the herb garden, cautioning all not to step on the delicate plants. Similarly small wooden labels stick out of the ground next to clusters of herbs like fresh little grave markers. "Medical" Clinic Located off the courtyard, not far from the small patch of herbs, built into the remains of a garden house, lies the Medical Clinic. Its two front windows shaded over with lacy curtains, obscuring the scene within. Through a narrow wooden door with dirty and warped four square window at the top. Above the door, a white washed sign reading "Medical Clinic," leaves no mystery as to the structures purpose. Once inside, the large room is divided by a paper screen. The front of the room dedicated to treating the living, chairs, shelves, and a table are used to heal. Behind the paper screen, lurks a laboratory of haunting proportions. The shelves are stacked and lined with jars filled with various and strange objects, empty vials and needles neatly organized. A line of counters frames half the room, upon it sits a towering plant. Black in nature, with red leaves, if one were to look closely they would see the outline of razor sharp teeth within the beast. In the center of the room, a sterile examination table lay with a large light above it. Beneath it various tubes, syringes, scalpels and other tools. In the far corner of the room a large clear tube looms nearly up to the high raftered ceiling, currently empty. Looking up at the wood beam supported rafters one would see herbs of varying degrees of dryness. A rickety ladder tucked off to the side used to climb to its heights. The air smelled of basil, lemon and preservatives. The underground escape tunnels Beneath the castle weaves miles and miles of tunnels, all with the purpose of providing an escape for those within should the worst happen. The entrance and exit to them is only known to the Lord and Master. *Since we have many locations listed, please make sure you're specific in which area you are in with some type of "" or >>. Thank you and enjoy.
  21. Aleksei

    Here with Me

    Off in the distance, she heard the inkling of laughter; it made her smile, relieving the ache in her chest by a little. The bit of light to the darkness was reduced by the sounds of lapping waves delicately dancing along tarnished shores. Nighttime covered most of the aches and pains of the city, giving the eyes and hearts some reprieve that can't be found during the daylight. Right now the moon lazily hangs amongst bright stars; there isn't a single cloud to be seen, making the hour a refreshing one in comparison to the last few. Again, the laughter broke through the sounds of water. The struggle to sit down on her own left her a bit breathless, but the prize of serenity was worth the price of pain. Her body - much like Last Chance - was healing. Ribs were broken, her right arm was lost, a nasty bruise painted the entirety of her delicate throat - really, she looked a damned mess. Injuries and a myriad of cuts covered her small form in an abusive manner, showing a story of a battle that was won but not without sacrifices. Has it been a week? Less than so? Shanti wasn't precisely sure since a majority of that she had been battling against her body to heal faster. Between moments of consciousness, she had seen blurred faces with prominent voices, their words lost to her but their concern not. People entered and left the small room she had been kept in, some would say something to her, others would hold her only hand, the rest would be silent, but she could feel their presence. It was unfortunate that she had been so weak, for she would have liked to speak to these unfamiliar faces, thank them for their bravery. When she had finally woken up she was alone; that was two days ago. There was no more fighting, and without a clear purpose, she felt a bit lost. She wasn't trained to do much and being a foreigner she felt incredibly out of place - by no fault of anyone! When they weren't busy, many people took the time to speak with her, and half the time they'd give her something small to do. Being busy kept her mind off her losses, it made her feel more grounded, no longer lost out in this weird orbit. Such small pleasures she did not take for granted as she was just as surprised as everyone that she was still alive. Dredge had tried his hardest to kill her, but he was thwarted by grander forces he hadn't anticipated. He was so close, she thought to herself, flexing her bruised fingers in wonder. In a single moment, she had lost her arm and then almost her life, yet she hadn't been afraid when she and death shared a moment. Should one be frightened by that? It was a thought that worried her in moments of silence such as this. Was she indeed that ready to die for others, to set aside her life for something more significant? Was she allowed to be so .. so proud? A soft breeze sifted through the long strands of tousled hair; the silky strands tickled her cheeks; the sensation woke the elf out of her deep meditation. If given a chance, if she had to return to those moments of near death, she would do it over and over again. Absolutely. Pulling her legs to her chest, she wrapped her single arm around them and rested her cheek atop her knees. It was dark, life was still happening around her, and it was peaceful. Setting: Last Chance - 1 week after this event.
  22. Acies ab Vesania

    Tavern of Legend Season 3

    Current Status Read Before Posting Tavern of Legend OOC Thread When you're ready to leave the TOL and explore Valucre, check out these transition suggestions. Note these are suggestions and you are not limited to the options detailed there. 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 members registered on the site for 90 days or less can post in the ToL unless otherwise approved (such as select events or mentors). 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 new member 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 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. 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. And there you find that the Tavern is all that was promised you - 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. Weapons can be checked at the door or brought to the weapons counter, where the character will be relieved of their weapon and given a chip when they're ready to reclaim it 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). Woman in her late forties, wavy, short grey hair and blue eyes. She has no patience for the workers she thinks are lazy and will be quick to click her tongue and chastise slackers. She is stocky but short, with old battle scars she says she earned from "Fighting in the pits, earning her freedom with blood." She's willing to tell a tale or two about her past fights. Her name is Wentree. [Hired recently] Younger man in his mid twenties, about 5'10 but huge build and a bald head, with nearly black skin. He speaks with a mild accent, but he is happy to repeat himself when required--but you have to make sure he knows you missed it, because he has a tendency to miss those signs, among other things. He seems to zone out a lot, and will trip over objects too. His name is Fendrel. He does not flirt, as his Husband wouldn't like it. [Hired Recently] Young man with long, red braids and grey eyes. He is perhaps 18, and quite talkative. He has his left eyebrow pierced three times and both ears filled with hoops and cuffs on his cartilage. He sometimes gets distracted by the bard, or pretty women. Wentree frequently gets on him about staying about his work. His name is Mism. [Hired Recently] Toilet Scrubber Not all the dragons fell during battle. One so-called "Tom" managed to fall inside the range of Ghallen's protective magic, sparing his life when the Dragon Cultist General decided to hit friends and foes with a blast of necrotic magic designed to drain life from others. Ghallen later found him playing "dead" as he was told to, and could see that the dragon-kin really did feel bad about the whole ordeal--those cultists, they sure can be convincing! So, Ghallen got him patched up, but not all is amended yet. The Tavern expects people to earn their keep, and that those who wish to reform their way should do so through hard labor. Vaddock set the dragon-kin to work as the official toilet-scrubber, keeping the privies clean. So far, he's been doing a pretty good job. His name is Zezzicryt, but most just call him "Z." He is 7' tall, and rather intimidating at first glance, especially for those who fought them. The veterans of the battle eye him suspiciously, but Vaddock feels like he might really mean to turn over a new leaf. Nevertheless, he still has Hand keep a close eye on him.
  23. Sakura Onsen Sento The Sakura Sento was a beautifully built building of bamboo and stone, a building kept to the ancient look of those others that had come before it. Outside was a beautifully marbled jade path that led to the massive sliding doors that opened up to a jade marbled counter where two women of asian descent sat waiting to greet their customers. The inside walls were decorated soft pinks of the sakura tree, and dark maghoney browns. Vases of cherry blossoms and lilies decorated small tables that were placed throughout the many halls that led to each individual bathrooms. Pull strings in each room would be used to order the salts and flowers that would soak in the hot onsen waters, while the attendants laid out the finest of bathrobes and towels for each guest. The layout and decor was of the best taste, even little gold could be spotted in the very fine lines of the flowers themselves on the walls. Eternity had finally found something she wanted to give to everyone, and it was the seduction of the hot springs mixed with the temptations of the salts and flower petals with oils. There would be attendants for each customer’s taste, men and women who aimed to please those who would so graciously give up their coin for such luxuries. The men and women would dress in black and soft pink robes, their hair would be neatly braided or up in buns. Each would be pleasing to the eye, many of them having been taught how to maintain their appearance when working for Lady Sithis. It was finally opening day of the grand hot spring bath house, the attendants were ready for what would be brought throughout the day. Customers of every status would begin to pour in through the doors, each paying for their bath room. The rooms would range from many sizes depending on what would be paid up front, and others of lower born would share a community bath at a more affordable rate. While the attendants of the bath house ran back and forth prepping each room to the specifications of each customer, life in the Sakura came to life.
  24. The sensation of falling in one’s sleep. It’s always an interesting sensation. The darkness and comfort of rest suddenly cut short by the sharp skip of a heartbeat followed by that fleeting moment of free falling through the air. There’s always a hint of fear or shock that cuts through the dulled senses and pierces the brain’s amygdala. That all but brief moment that this was it and you had died. Death however would of been a mercy for Miss Blonde, because when that sensation was over she had to face her new reality. One where she wouldn’t awake to the familiar feeling of her bed and warm body lying next to her. There would only be the cold hard ground. Dark reflective lenses of a gas mask lay blank and expressionless, it’s hard metallic casing showing no signs of movement simply lay there resting atop a head of long blonde hair. A still silence that filled the air and soon was swiftly ended by a blur of movement and a mechanical cocking mechanism. Sitting up with speed and intensity, Miss Blonde’s gas mask came to life with red flashing LED lights that opened completely to almost express her shock. In her hand was the smooth and engraved .44 caliber pistol that began to scan the room. Something had knocked her out at the height of the party. Something that would have to be powerful to put her under the table. Yet all she could see were the black suit and tie adorned and unconscious bodies of her employees. Her closest lieutenants who she had gathered here for a reason should could not quite remember. Which was odd, because normally the woman had the mind of a steel box. In fact her mind was even protected by the enchantment placed on her mask. So with a few wobbly shakes, the small Crime Lord stood on her feet and kept her pistol firmly in her grasp. From the looks of things they were all still in the cabana club, the small and out of the way bar she owned on Relovian. Which was good, perhaps they all just had too much to drink. Taking her free hand she rubbed her sore and throbbing head and sighed. ”Haven’t has a headache like this since college.” Taking a few steps towards the center of the bar, she looked around for her personal assistant. Finding his slightly pale red hair, the man was doubled over a bench with his drink still held loosely in his hand. ”Orange, wake your ass up.” With a slight kick to his side the man sputtered and soon fell over onto his back and groaned. His face was also obscured by a mask similar to Blonde’s but even through the mask’s robotic vocalizes one could hear the misery of what might be identified as a hangover. ”Wake up the others then call me a speeder home. Looks like we went all night.” Blonde said with some kindness towards the man but still made sure to convey that this was an order. ”Sure thing, boss. Can we get some MandoBurger on the way back? Cause I could use it.” Orange asked as he began to pick himself up from the bench. ”Sure, just call the speeder.“ Placing her pistol back into its holster the woman would proceed to walk towards the front door. Daylight shined through the shutters and slightly illuminated the tropical and playful decor of the bar. About fifteen of her top men were here for what had seemed to be a party in her honor. Maybe they had just pulled off some kind of heist? No, she’d of remembered that. Did they make a big weapon or drugs sale? Maybe a successful auction? Again she’d of known about that. Pacing her way towards the door, Blonde needed some fresh air. ”Boss... there’s a problem. Comms are down. In fact I’m not seeing any signal, anywhere.” Orange said in a worried tone while hunched over a screen. ”Just run a diagnostics check on the system I’m sure it’s just the-“ Blonde paused in shock as she stepped out the door. It all hit her at once. The strange architecture, the smell of the air, and especially the completely alien species that could be seen walking around the streets. Species that her scanners couldn’t even identify, which was impossible. ”It’s probably the what, Boss?” Orange asked as he looked up from the screen towards Blonde. All of it was overwhelming. The information was flooding in faster than her brain could process it all. She took a few steps forward to turn around and look at her bar. It was all roughly the same but rather than being in its normal spot against the coast on the beach it was tucked away in the slums and back alleyways of some sort of sprawling alien metropolis. A few people on the street even approached her. Species that she had no idea what they were or what they wanted. Her hand reached into her jacket to grasp at her pistol while still concealed in her coat. ”You open? Me bredren and me just got off the night shift. Could use a drink.” What looked to be a troll with fiery red hair looked down at the girl and by his side he was flanked by a small gnome and a half orc. ”We’ve never seen your bar before. You guys just open up?” The half orc asked kindly. Blonde could understand them, which was odd. They spoke basic. So slowly releasing the pistol grip, she smiled beneath her mask and the lights on her masked turned to their standard yellow. ”By all means. Come inside, have a drink.” She said with some mild intent in her robotic laced voice. To the more magical adept of Last Chance a powerful and cosmic based magic would light up Blonde’s bar in the invisible residue of powerful magic that could be felt for miles. The city was still recovering from a large attack and there was sure to be people of note in the city. For now though, Blonde would just lead the three men inside.
  25. Jai Nifarious

    You Had Friends Once...

    Jai "Kazehikari" Nifarious There's always a problem you can't fix. No matter if I have world breaking powers or if I am living amongst mortals; I am always the last one standing. I've been torn apart, reassembled, possessed, hated, exiled, punished, tortured, betrayed, and still I stand here thinking about what little time I've spent filling my sorrows with good memories from kind faces. Times have changed, the people are not my people, the land is not welcoming, and I feel....I feel so out of place. "Immortality...immortality..." He chants to himself, dissecting a hymn he'd once heard. Jai keeps himself at a distance from socializing with the "unblessed". There's an alienation between him and mortals now, a rift that he's formed after finding out the truth of their origins. The many secrets of violence and war ravaged his attitude towards them, it made him less human each interaction. The burden of knowledge has carved up what tiny hope he's had in humanity. The clothes he wears are actively a contradiction and yet a mocking of their fashion. It is not of this world, but it's what is considered "acceptable". His eyes are like solid white spheres, he's been passed off as blind to keep others from acting on their evil instincts and it's garnered the kindness of many. It's deceptive, but it's the only way he's gone on this far without losing it. "Excuse me, sir, you dropped this." One man says to him handing Jai an leather like wallet with several compartments. <-"Ngh"-> Jai thinks to himself. "Hey buddy, your shoe is untied." Another kind person says while placing a hand on Jai's chest to stop his stride. <-"Tch"-> "Mister you're really tall." a young girl says peeking up at him as he uses the collar of his jacket to hide his embarrassment behind. <-"Stop..."-> "Hey handsome." A slim woman runs a hand across his back. <-"She's got a reputation on her. She flaunts it ferociously. It's that of a succubus."-> "Well, you smell like everywhere....and yet nowhere. If you strike out on finding what you're looking for, ol' Morrigan will keep you company." She says blowing a kiss to his back, making sure he hears her moan. <-"Not a chance....not tonight."-> The moan sinks into his mind. The influence is too weak for his mettle. He proceeds strongly through the streets. Hours of wandering and thinking about as many people as he could remember. Jai pays respects to their memory, for he knew not where the graves lie. There is a swelling kindness that's becoming more dominant in his facial expression. Like he was trying to restore something lost. Something groundbreaking. <<-"mmmmwhaaa"->> Then it happens. <-"What? Green hair, small wings, soft fair skin, luxurious lips, plump frame..the succubus's curse...no...her invitation."-> <<-"Ol Morrigan..."->> <-"An accent...a place of pleasure...mmmm get out of my head!"-> Jai places both palms against the sides of his face, fighting the temptation. This pleasure he seeks is not of the flesh, yet this succubus has forced it's way through to redirect him. His hands fall from his face and he comes to a complete stop peering into the street ahead of him. <-"......Should I go?"-> l<-"As long as you bring me with you."->l <-"Deal."-> Jai's hands slip into his pockets and he spins around, heading back the way he'd came...a grin on his face.
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