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Found 29 results

  1. It was a difficult day, as it had been on most days, for Sentheril. They had come to this small town in the mountains, hoping for some measure of success within their life in magical academia. What they have now is more or less that, just...not as grand as they thought it might be. What more could they ask for when they've been given a chance to actually follow such ambitions? On this day, Sentheril enjoyed a thick winter cloak of light blue color, a light blue doublet, gray breeches and dark gray boots, along with a male body. It was a pleasant day, if not a little cold for what they desired, but they could handle it. Some days they walked the streets, much like on this day. @SteamWarden
  2. ___Site 002 Friar’s Day, Month of the Heron, Year of the Raven “Have you chosen, my Ladyship?” A petite man was bent at the waist, bowing deeply to Raveena as he spoke. He dared not stand. The Queen rolled her eyes, so much pomp and circumstance wasn’t entirely necessary—just some common courtesy. “Yes, I think so.” She replied distantly. Spread across the table were several schematics. They could have pieced together like a puzzle if they weren’t all different versions of the same vision. A city designed to house the best and brightest minds of agriculture and medicine in the Rising West. The aim was to slowly modernize Hyperion without compromising what made Hyperion, Hyperion. To ease them back into a cultural identity. To teach them, let them grow and learn. Her hand hovered over each schematic one final time—one final look to be sure. It was an important decision to make—one that would change the future of Hyperion. They had more than before. More than ever, they were ready. So many People from various backgrounds had shown promise in various industries. Brehill would be perfect for them. Her finger hovered over the third schematic before tapping it, “This one.” The petite man scurried to her right side, avoiding looking her in the face—as if she might blind him if they looked at one another. “This one, my Ladyship? You are certain.” His hands hovered nervously, ready for the official order to deliver the plans. She paused, before titling her head thoughtfully, “This one,” She gestured to the next immediate schematic, “It’s simple. Too simple, really. It’s almost a mockery.” Raveena’s hand traveled down to the next blueprint, “This one is too elaborate for what we need. Nothing must outshine the capital city. In time, all of our cities will be great. This is too ambitious for my laborers.” Then her hand swept right. His eyes followed her hand, his mouth hanging up as he gawped at the graceful flourish—is though he can hardly believe she spoke so casually and thoughtfully to a lowly runner like him. “This one almost gets it, but there are a few problematic areas. The materials aren’t readily available, the costs are stretched. The components look nice if only a little disorganized.” Tapping the last schematic again, Raveena looked at the Runner, “This one shows the most promise. It’s far from perfect, but it is the most ideal. Send this to the crew at once.” Animated the runner bowed, nearly busting his head on the table with his jittery movement. “Y-yes my Lady! At once!” He snatched the plans and ran off.
  3. It's been hard for Phillip to sleep, but he has managed well enough. Things have been busy since Sarah left the Shields, but he liked it that way. The more he is able to do, the more he can keep his mind off of what troubled him, until he found something in his way. "How many are in the fortress?" Phillip asked his Lieutenant. "Close to about eighty or so." Eric replied. "Could be more inside. Looks like it's a popular place for outcasts and bandits to call home." Phillip thought for a moment, looking over the hill they were situated at, which gave them a good vantage point at the fortress being used by the bandits. It would be an excellent base of operations, once they removed their current occupants. That left him with a difficult challenge ahead, but he was ready. "They've covered the entirety of the fortress with their banners and wooden fortifications." Phillip noted. "I've seen it, and it's damned disgraceful." Cragmar said. "They've propped up the place with nothing but wood, twine and spit. A strong wind could probably knock it down." He spat upon the ground. "Wind, or maybe a little fire, could clear out a good number of them." Phillip thought, and the others looked to him with some amount of concern, but they said nothing. Ever since Sarah had left, their leader had become somewhat more brutal than before. If he was going to smoke them out, then they weren't going to object.
  4. No one knows were to find the Assassins Guild. This was a fact that Mal had learned the hard way, after weeks of combing through leads, rumors, and myths. Oh, it was possible to get in contact with them. The guild wouldn't make any money if no one could find them to purchase their services. But most of these points of contact were dead drops; someone leaves a message, the guild gets it and sends terms, and the employer leaves the payment. Following the messengers had proved fruitless. It was a massive web of proxies and cutouts that thwarted even the most dedicated attempts at surveillance. So eventually he came up with another plan. If they couldn't find the Guild before they struck, they might be able to find them afterwards. Using Aphelion's own network of proxies, the group had arranged for a hit on a prominent military official. Major General Bozidar Turkovic was the man in charge of Fort Echo, one of ninety such installations throughout the city. The Forts were going to be targeted eventually, so hiring the guild to assassinate Turkovic was killing two birds with one stone. Prior to hiring the guild, Mal and a few of his best people had infiltrated the Fort. They were all working in positions that would allow them to keep an eye on the Major. Once the assassins struck, they would be there, and they would tail them. What came after that would depend on what they found. From his position on a guard tower, Mal made sure he was alone before mentally activating his communication crystal, "Check in time people. Sound off." @Zashiii @L E V I A T H A N @Laughingmad @dvsn @Malintzin
  5. The sun was descending as the powerful gait of equine stride fell upon the earth leading to the Territory under Hyperion -- The Rising West; A place of insurmountable potential. Potential for greatness, as well as danger, it seemed. Per a letter sent ahead, Kaige would be informed by none other than Jarkhan, a long time acquaintance within the collective of Demon Hunters on the continent, of the rise in occurrences of Infirms within Central and Western Genesaris. Scout accounts observed some degree of coordination, but many dismissed it as nonsense. Jarkhan took it upon himself to write to the aforementioned, hoping to find assistance in his investigation of the matter. They had struck multiple settlements in the outskirts of the territories, and it was not simply one kind of demon, either. He also mentioned he'd be riding in, tailing the messenger bird by a day or so. Jarkhan had always been intrigued by the vastness of the demon kin, as they tended to vary in appearance and power based on the infirm's size and stability. Wielding his spear and a long knife bearing runes holstered against his robes and protective gear, he trekked on toward the stables near the Sadira Amar. Kaige would be requested to meet him at this location in the letter. Scrolls, exploration tools, and hygiene utensils were all loaded into a travel bag clinging to the back of his horse's saddle. His hair fell about as he rode unabated through the Rising West, the temperate features of the Wicker Mountains greeting him before the Sovereign City itself did. Even in the evening hours, the City greeted him with smells and music and performances throughout the streets and designated outdoor theatre spaces. Life flourished here.. well deserved, as far as what he knew of the immigrant nation. His horse's gait slowed as he entered to the Laconia District, moving through massive, immaculate archways on past the fields and farms. It even smelled good out here -- save for the farms and the elemental offal from the Hatchery's inhabitants. The markets, although nearing the end of the daylight, still were stoked to life by consumers looking to shop. Jarkhan appreciated the city and it's people, but ultimately he was here for business.. for now. The Sadira Amar caught his eye in all of its grandeur, as did the various guildhalls set about the vast expanse that was the district. It would have his attention another day, though. For now, Jarkhan dismounted and watered himself, as well as his horse. He, who stood at head level with the steed, pressed his forehead to the horse's, before a pat to the cheek removed him from the horse's immediate vicinity. There was no need to tie it down, as they preferred each other's company. He waited now, taking a seat and resting. He had been riding for some time, now. Prior obligations had him moving through the Southern Swell and the Velhatian Desert, but now he was here, within a flower blooming in beautiful fathoms that was built on the backs of a proud people. Jarkhan could not help but to think about all they had endured, which took him back to his times in captivity.. Nothing was permanent if you did not wish it to be, though. Freedom was his now; it only served to bolster his integrity and constitution. "Any time, now.." He muttered, undoing his loosened hair bondage and shaking it out. His spear rest against his shoulder, kept covered in the down time within city walls. @The Hummingbird
  6. "It's packed in here." Sarah said as the mercenaries tried to make their way through the heavily clustered throngs. "Where the hell is everyone going?" "To the market!" Yelled Cragmar, making certain the ox propelling their cart wasn't going too fast. From atop his perch at the driver's seat of the wagon, the dwarf had a better view of things than anyone else. "That's what ya get when you try to enter the city during the rush. A certain dwarf could have told ya this was a bad idea, but does anyone listen? Of course not!" There were all kinds of people making up the sea of visitors and locals alike, many they had never even seen before. Phillip was doing his best, but found it difficult just to get by. "This is insanity, how does anyone get anywhere around here?" Overhead came the zoom of a vehicle, holding its passengers without a care as it gently breezed through the air via magitech. Docking upon a metal station situated just above the ground, it released its doors, letting out more people and taking in those awaiting it. "Asked and answered." Phillip said, though it might as well have been to himself, with how loud the area was. "Let's just focus on getting to the government building so we can try and get a permit to set up shop here!" Phillip yelled, the others nodding in agreement as they trudged their way through the crowds.
  7. After a bit of travelling, Dan arrived in Hyperion. It was a pretty big city, more than he had anticipated. However, given the nature of where he came from and what was going on with him, Dan was less than thrilled with the name. Still, as long as Hyperion didn't actually show up in the city, there wouldn't be a problem. His little birds had told him that apparently, someone had been committing acts of grand larceny against Hyperion, stealing dragon eggs. Strangely enough, Hyperion did not like their dragon eggs being stolen, and were offering a reward to anyone who found the thieves, and brought back the eggs. Interestingly, nothing made any mention about what to do about the thieves themselves. Dan assumed that they simply didn't care, and thought that if they wanted to kill the thieves, they could go right ahead. After walking about for a good while, and deciding this place is a definite candidate for a heist later, Dan decided to head to the military district. That, at the very least, would be a place to start looking for someone to talk to about the bounty.
  8. The outside appears to be minimal and modern with slabs of marble and stacked stone in a grey palette. The inside is warm with distressed wood paneled walls, a romantic, whimsical canopy of trees overhead, and the soft twinkling of lights as an open fire glows in the stone fireplace. Small, curtained windows framed by wooden shutters let some light filter through, and small, intimate tables are arranged for the flow of impeccable service. It is clear is meant to be an oasis of intimacy and romance. An impressive stretch of marble slab makes up the main counter top, a clear path indicating a newcomer may start there. The floors are equally distressed but maintained, the air clean from the artfully placed trees inside. The menu was rumored to be small but flavorful, based solely on the wines provided at the time. A portion of the counter was lined with baskets filled with fresh snacking goods from nuts to bread and spiced oils, some which came as suggestions to pair with a favorite wine. A path leads around to a second room, which also boasts a counter, flanked by an impressive array of local and imported wines. On display are various retired swords, tools, and artifacts—their ethereal abilities long spent and merely for decor. After lunch in the late afternoon, the Enoteca would open its doors for a few hours, allowing the locale and tourists trailing in from Port Kyros to make their reservations and dine for the wine or see their wares inspected, repaired, or built to order. The cellar would open as the orders for the best of the best wines make their way in. Meals are prepared light and are not meant to satisfy those who are voraciously hungry. Built for refinement, elegance and courtesy—drunken debauchery is heavily frowned upon and security is never far. -- Welcome to the Enoteca: the chic, romantic sister-bar to The Sadira Amar. With the Port City’s arboretum taking off and growing a variety of fruits, it became clear to Raveena that capitalizing on the wine industry would bolster tourism significantly. While the Sadira Amar is open and inviting, the Enoteca is an establishment designed for intimacy and privacy. Like its sister-bar in Hyperion, the Enoteca doubles as a workshop where Genesarian artifacts and weapons can be repaired or built to order. Shopping patrons are escorted to the adjacent room where a workshop beneath the floors going into the cellar has been fleshed out. An up-and-coming Artificer and Scrivener in the service of the Queen resides here and can give anyone a quick lesson on their artifacts, its history and its use for a fair fee. Stop by to sample the local flavor, delve into the mystery of Port Kyros and it's potent source of magic. There's rumors of ghosts of fallen soldiers that haunt the memorial, of secret societies and vanishing cities. From the magical to the mysterious, the Enoteca welcomes you in.
  9. __Site 001 Moon’s Day, Month of the Heron, Year of the Raven The Sovereign City That was what was to become of the new capital of the Hyperion Empire. It would be the city that sat above the others, literally and figuratively. A notch above the others. She sent her children away to vacation in Stonehaven. A place there could frolic on the beach and explore with proper supervision and away from any harm. Raveena hadn’t forgotten what happened the last time the city was built, and the two. It had already taken months of careful planning and budgeting. Much of the time was spent waiting—waiting for the right moment economically. It wasn’t until the Southern Schism happened and the dismissal of the Genesar government that the political aspect of the project was discussed among the council. “And we’ve secured the site permits? Everything is in order?” Raveena inquired. She fidgeted anxiously in her seat, leaning forward as though if she was any closer, she might know sooner. Council woman Feera Dhomi chuckled, finding her eagerness all too endearing, “Yes, your Majesty. Everything is in order. Site preparations for each city is nearing completion and we can begin laying down the foundation immediately, as early as tomorrow morning.” The elderly woman unfurled her hands from her robe and pushed the dossier that rest on the desk between them towards the Queen. Raveena reached for them and sifted through the papers. They sat in comfortable silence as she scanned and reviewed each one, with only the sound of rustling papers being shuffled in order. “Will you be touring again, your Majesty?” Feera asked. She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it for herself. Raveena murmured in reply before tearing her gaze away from paperwork and responding, “Yes. My people know how I operate. I want to make sure everyone we’ve hired has exactly what they need. The world is changing and—with hope, and any luck, my divine siblings won’t make trouble for us. No promises.” The Queen winked at the elder, who smiled in return. Raveena reached over and pulled the lid off an ink pad. She produced an imperial seal and pressed it firmly to the pad before inking the last page with her seal of approval. “That should set things into motion, don’t you think?” Her shoulders relaxed with a slump. She hardly realized she had been tensing at all until that moment. And so it began...
  10. ___Site 005 Tier’s Day, Month of the Heron, Year of the Raven There was a peculiar interest from a peculiar crowd when it came to Vinosea’s construction. Many had come from Alethea proclaiming to be the S’jeena, the Shadow Regent; the true ruler of the Beast People deep in the bowels of Alethea. There were always rumors floating around that Raveena knew the criminal mastermind—who carefully controlled the underworld. Still, with proclamations of being the Shadow Regent came supplies. Offerings and tidings of assisting with building Vinosea in exchange for letting them live and stay. At first, many were turned away—dismissed as troublemakers. But for every one that went, two more came. Again and again they came in waves, until Raveena began to believe this was no longer a coincidence. The Shadow Regent was moving and having an ally that close couldn’t be overlooked. Mercenaries came in droves. They spoke about alleviating the task force at hand. It was a well-planned invasion, Raveena thought—for lack of better words. The Regent was proclaiming Vinosea and their own. It was not a time to push back. She knew the disaster that would come with it. Instead, it was time to watch and wait and see. They were a symbiosis—one that managed to survive this long. Over the weeks, more and more crews of mercenaries came, all bearing the same black flame that belonged to the Shadow Regent. All paid and prepared to work. It was as though the Queen were given a small army or workers that she hadn’t even paid. There had been a delay in some of the equipment to arrive and so Raveena did the only foolish thing she could think of—stalled for time by touring the site with Kirena. The Imperatrix would engage groups with tells of her time in Slaver’s Enclave, of her fateful meeting with the goddess Jamy and the Lord Father Sauriel. They adored her because of her beauty and her natural talent as a courtesan to entertain. Raveena felt disconnected at first. Many reproached her, but it was the man who mockingly bowed and greeted her that stopped her. “What’s your name?” She asked him “I’m Gylan, Your Grace.” He grinned as he spoke, eyeing her wolfishly. “Do you like to wager, Gylan?” Raveena crossed her arms and sized him up. He equally sized the petite ruler, “When it seems fair. Are you looking to lose? Not that you have anything to lose but your pretty little dignity.” The earned several chuckles from the group of men around them. “A table and chairs. I want to arm wrestle you.” Raveena began to roll up the sleeve of a gown. When no one moved, she eyed the closest man to her, “Well go on then!” Reluctantly two ran off and returned with a table and chairs. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for hurting you, Milady.” Gylan again with his charm and his smiles. “Sit,” The Queen instructed, and he did. “Surely you have a husband, err—a King, an Emperor that would--.” “My husband is deathly afraid of pissing me off,” Such course language stunned them. Some of then guffawed in approval. “My husband before him was a mercenary. Your hand, Master Gylan.” Elbows at the ready, The two locked stares. Another man gave a signal. Raveena effortlessly overpowered him. Gylan blushed sheepishly as he was laughed at. “Alright alright. Again.” She beat him four more times. By now they had drawn closer to the two, many of them cheering for the young Queen. Raveena smirked, a slender brow arched when she extended a hand in peace. Gylan reluctantly shook it, exhaling with some measure of exasperation, “You are unlike any royal I’ve ever met.” He clapped her on the shoulder with some manner of comradery. Raveena smiled sweetly, “I was a bodyguard once. I eventually landed in law enforcement. And then I met this man…” She spent the early morning regaling them with tales of Andrew Clark, their wild adventures together in Sigil City. Some of them cried. Some of them hung on her ever word. What a remarkable life this noble little lady led! They had misjudged her indeed. She had neared the end when the first trucks of equipment arrived, and the workers scattered to get to work. Kirena rejoined Raveena and the two linked arms, “Making friends with the locals?” The courtesan inquired slyly. Raveena looked back at the construction site and shrugged, “I should like to see what becomes of Vinosea. Come on, we’re on admin duty.” The two left the main site as construction began.
  11. ___Site 004 Thunder’s Day, Month of the Heron, Year of the Raven Magic had always been a prevalent part of Hyperian culture. It could be said, that it was the epicenter of it. Imradel would boast the bright minds of the arcane. A place devoted to the studies of various branches of magic—within the law. While Raveena knew she would not be able to find every single soul who chose to dabble in darker arts, she wanted a city that fostered the importance of understanding someone else’s art. At the end of they day, they were looked down upon because of their Source—their magic. Matreyans—no. Hyperians did not yet fully understand their Source. Some were different than others. Some projected theirs outwards from their hands. Others seemed to control it from within their thoughts. Imradel would be a safe place to learn, explore and understand. Or so Artamese hoped. She chewed on a thumb nail while nudging her special pair of glasses up her nose. She was transcribing spells for the mages that worked in construction. Not only would they help in building Imradel but would spread out to the other four cities to assist as well. Magic on such a wide, perpetual scale had to be carefully coordinated, and not all spells were created equal. Finding suitable one that would get the jobs necessary done and well without being a burden on the caster. Simon’s ears swiveled two and from, catching the sounds of people around them already preparing. Raveena’s coordination efforts were something Artamese had never seen before. She arranged people like a metaphorical chess board, winning a game no one but her could really see. The Queen knew who to send where, why, and how. It was a remarkably seamless effort on everyone’s part. Artamese had heard stores of the insane setbacks that Old Hyperion faced in Fracture. She hoped it wouldn’t be as dangerous here! All around her were stacks of instructions, spells. Written incantations. Most of them were composing themselves. While many people thought that Artamese was a mage, what with her line of work and such—it was Simon, her Hellhound companion that put in the work. She began to consider that was why he acted to lazy and spoiled all the time… Runners came and went, collecting piles and running off again. Artamese was the only solid linguist. Workers from Fracture, Genesaris, Renovatio and Earth were coming to assist with building Hyperion, but she remained in Imradel where Simon had the best focal point. Raveena had tactfully placed the city’s plans to rest on top of a Genesar leyline. “There.” She sat back and pulled her glasses from the bridge of her nose, letting them dangle by the enchanted gemstone chain around her neck. “That ought to do it. If they can’t follow even the most basic instructions for magic, the knobends will end us.” Still, having a city to study artifacts alongside proper mages would be nice.
  12. Another cold day in Gundushar, Sentheril thought wistfully. Light dustings of snow had been falling all morning, as if the sky couldn't make up its mind on what it wanted to do. They could definitely relate, sitting there on a bench in the marketplace, unsure of where to go first. Today Sentheril wore their usual cloak and mantel, having chosen a male body on this day. With brows furrowed, they sighed in frustration, shrugging off the latest batch of snow, they got off the bench and onto the cobblestone streets. "I think I'll go visit the local cafe, see if I can't find something to warm myself in all this snow." As an elf, they were certainly the tallest amongst the crowd of predominantly dwarven people. Gundushar was a nice enough town, if not a little small for their taste. @ChocolateGold
  13. ___Site003 Winter’s Day, Month of the Heron, Year of the Raven Sabine Fenvaris leaned into her staff and watched from the platform she stood on. For at least half a mile she saw the faces of the Aralim standing at attention, waiting for her orders. Each had been given a task, each assigned platoon had their duties in assisting with construction. The morning was cool, and the breeze invigorated the lungs. The sun was just rising, casting the entire crew. All around them the marked perimeter was bustling with activity. It was the same everywhere as the new cities were underway in the first stages of their construction. “Soon this city will mark as one of the first viable threats to our Sovereign. We are the first answer and the last to fall.” There was an unprecedented yet proud roar, fists were raised. Sabine knew her crowd was rowdy and she slammed the butt of her staff on the ground, “Quiet! Quiet.” But her grin betrayed her approval of their passion. “We are the Sentinel City. We must be efficient, vigilant and ready. Each of you are to assist with various phases of construction. Be mindful of your surroundings, this is our home now.” Leaning away from the staff, the Ironstride hopped off the platform. The distinct sound of metal of jostled spearhead tips filled the air. Sabine had one arm but utilized several weapons. Unlike her Enforcers who channeled their energy into their weapon blades, Sabine preferred the traditional kind. “Report to your stations. Keep an open line of communication. Dismissed!” At once, they gave her their military salute and scattered to their respective stations. Sabine made her way behind to head back to the tents already set up. All around her were strange equipment she had never seen before—never truly understood. She understood tools and weapons, but their world had never experienced the accelerated technology that was coming from overseas to assist them. Queen Raveena was already there, issuing out further commands. Sabine sidled up to her commander and friend and glanced down at the blueprint. Sabine scanned it quickly, brows furrowing, “An armory? Your Majesty…you spoil me!” Raveena arched a brow and returned the grin, “Play your cards right, I might throwi in a training arena.” Sabine cackled before grabbing an empty tool belt and slinging it over her shoulder. “I thought you were just supervising?” Raveena called after her. “Adapt and survive, Your Majesty!” Sabine yelled over her shoulder with a broad grin, “One of these damned fools is going to teach me or get clobbered trying.”
  14. A few months ago Athena had received a report concerning a dozen or so newly discovered precious metal mines in the Northwest portion of Gensaris, located near the edge of the peninsula. Thankfully Aurelium Incorporated's reach had long sense expanded into Genesaris despite it never having reached the same impact as in the Terran and Veluriyam Empires. Up until today, all Athena really had to go on was reports. Sure there had been videos, pictures, sound recordings, text, but nothing really gave the same impact as seeing it for one's self. Standing atop the floating island of Aurelium, Athena glanced up at the now setting sun. It wasn't yet at the horizon but it was edging toward it. Give it another couple of hours and dusk would be obvious. Not that it matter in the end. Sun or not, her work wouldn't be interrupted by something as inadequate as nature. Finally, the island halted and Dr. Stephens called out to her that they were ready to disembark. To go give her a "tour" of the mines, as he called it. Athena nodded and moved toward the shute. "I'm ready; do it," she ordered and Stephens complied. He typed in what she knew to be the access code and the floor under her feet disappeared, retracting into the floor around her. However, instead of falling she simply began to descend down as if on an invisible elevator. After a few minutes she landed, her feet touching down on the soft ground of Genesaris. "This way Director Romanov," Dr. Davids said, motioning her in the direction of a cave. Athena noticed the researchers overgrown beard, the tired look in his eyes accompanied with the dark bags under them. His clothes were dirty; worn to the point it was difficult to determine what color they once were. At first it looked like it was dirt, but after a second more Athena realized it was from some sort of combustible material. Gesturing to his clothes and overall appearance as they and eight others tracked to the mine, Athena couldn't help but to ask, "What the fuck happened to you?" Davids laughed but his cheeks took on a slight blush. It was likely he'd gone a while without a woman's touch. "We've been trying to finalize the A01 Battery like you asked but we've come across some issues with the core. Even when the battery only absorbs the minimum amount of atmospheric energy, if it doesn't actually use that energy consistently it over heats and-" "Exploded," Athena finished. "Yes, Ma'am," Davids responded sheepishly. "We've attempted to add in a sort of "stop" sensor that tells the battery when to cease absorption, but since it's no longer using or recycling the energy, the molecular chains lose their stability and simply-" "Leads to another explosion. I'd guess even bigger than just letting it overheat." Davids nodded. She tapped her chin; thinking. It wasn't a problem that she was particularly unfamiliar with as it had been mentioned in the earlier reports, though not as an issue. Other than only allowing the A01 Battery to be implemented within machines that never turned off would theoretically work, but would also likely lead to annoying law suits and a huge amount of lost potential earnings. "Well, we can get back to that in a minute. Tell me about the Glasium Madrite stone." At that Davids smiled, the weariness seeming to drift from his eyes. "It's spectacular. Truly. The more a stone is refined, the large amounts of magic energies it can withstand. We're working on the formula for a perfect refinement. Strictly speaking, a perfect refinement should not just absorb the magic energies but completely nullify it. If they were made into, say, handcuffs, then someone's supernatural abilities would be, in essence, locked away. An magic or supernatural person would be without it." Now that really was fantastic. ( @Rabbit @Agent Knockout OOC: feel free to jump in however you'd like!)
  15. In the center of the city of Hyperion on a sunny day, a man of purple skin, angelic armor and glowing white eyes stood, his voice soon booming out. "HEAR ME GOOD PEOPLE OF HYPERION! YOUR CITY IS UNDER DANGER! YOUR VERY LIBRARY IS UNDER SWAY OF EVIL!" People turned their attention towards him. Some thought him mad, others worried, though many were already aware of what was going on in the Bravot Library. Gathering near him, they wondered what this peculiar stranger had to say. "FEAR NOT THOUGH, FOR I, RABAT THE RIGHTEOUS, INVOKER OF THE FIFTH REALM OF HULMAR, DESTROYER OF EVIL, MASTER OF THE DIVINE AND CELESTIAL, INSTRUMENT OF ORDER, CHAMPION OF THE GRAND TEMPLE OF DAKARIS! IS HERE TO DRIVE THESE CREATURES BACK FROM WHENCE THEY CAME, BUT I REQUIRE AID TO DO SO. WHO SHALL JOIN ME IN THIS QUEST TO ENSURE THAT THE GOOD PEOPLE OF VALUCRE ARE ONCE AGAIN ABLE TO READ AND LEARN IN THE LIBRARY, SO THAT WE MAY DO BATTLE AGAINST THE FORCES OF EVIL!" Everyone was quiet, unsure of what to say, with nearly everyone more so confused as to how a person was able to shout for so long. He stood there, arms raised, waiting for any volunteers to join him on this glorious of tasks.
  16. For all its piratical woes, Port Kyros was still a slice of vacation. Stretches of natural beaches snaked along the coast, there was no denying that Kyros was stricken with a relaxed, carefree vibe. Tourists came from miles around to enjoy the pristine, sugary sands, taste the Kyrosian flavor in their fritter conchs. Sample the rums and splash in cresting waves. Many would visit the spa and hotsprings, or sail around on the Nautilus (and hopefully making it back alive). It was a beautiful day for a much needed trip to the beach. A chance to relax and let the stress of the continent’s political turmoil ebb with the tide. There was plenty of hiking to the north and into the city—and if one wanted to brave it, the more isolated beaches. Further south and inland the microbreweries were hard at work preparing for throngs of people that would come as the day would go on. Kayaking, fishing, crabbing and bird watching experts were preparing for the day. The morning air was cool, clear and sunny. The water was a little too cold to dip toes in at first but would surely warm up later on. The waters were clear and calm, littered with seashells and more. It was time to relax and have fun. Time for some fun in the sun. ---
  17. First Annual Business and Technology Convention Business Hall West Wing Announcement from Ops: Flamethrowers will be allowed during tear down. Okan was helping one of the guests set up their display booth. He didn’t really know much about their business, but they at least came prepared. There were brochures and everything. Some of them had treats or swag bags. He thought that was neat. Like everyone else around him he wore a colorful splash of shirt that designated him as part of the BT Con Squad. The rows of those who wanted to show case their business, hire new recruits or spread their cause had come to join. Okan Shiri was the son of a merchant who had a relatively successful business. He could remember the long nights and the appreciation and dedication that had been put into ensuring that business thrived. He thought BT Con was a wonderful idea with so many economies scrambling to recover from the continent-wide crisis. Whole cities went under, some were even destroyed in waves of panic. Not even Queen Raveena was safe when she was stabbed in the back in the streets of Umbra. Nymeria was fighting not to let civil war destroy their nation, but it did not stop those who were curious enough to participate while the Queen Regent Rahab patrolled the open ocean to keep troublemakers away. Message from the ConSuite: NO ONE is allowed to sleep under the food tables under ANY circumstances. If you need crash space, look on the board, or at worst, take a nap in the lobby. One of our volunteers is now in counselling from having an arm flop out while he was refilling the chili, and the rest of us have a bigger mess to clean up. On a related note, chili will not be available in the ConSuite until this evening. Okan couldn’t help but laugh. It was his first convention and so far all manner of mayhem was happening all around them. While on the outward appearance they were assisting some of the most tech-savvy minds of Valucre showcase their wares, it was nothing short of a clown show behind closed doors among the BT Con Squad. He finished helping one booth set up and systematically went down the line, double-checking who needed what and where. Some were missing props, others proclaimed they were the prop. Banners, flyers, pins, pens and rubbery bracelets with business names and numbers were all around him. --has anyone seen a landmine anywhere? It shouldn’t be real. I hope… I think I’ve got it! Meet you at the lost and found? At this rate, he was glad to be assigned to the Business Hall. He might actually keep his sanity. Now he just had to go and get the personal panels set up for the Q & A Guest Speakers and he could take a break from all the madness.. @Zigzag @notmuch_23 @danzilla3 @Ataraxy @SteamWarden
  18. First Annual Business and Technology Convention Gala and Charity Event South Wing Formal Attire Only The decorating committee outdid themselves. The biggest hall of the Kyrosian Consulate had been dolled up to reflect the Aquarium within it. The light from the tanks rippled across the walls beautifully, among twinkling lights and floating candles. Tables were tactfully placed all around with seating and beautiful aquatic arrangements in watered vases. Magi cast illusions of oceanic life swimming through the air over guest heads. Nymerian dancers performed on the other side of the glass, eerie and hypnotic as they swam all around through their aquariums, canals and corridors. Sharply dressed catering staff assisted guests to their seats and brought delightful trays of local Genesar cuisine. H'oeuvres d'oeuvres were being passed around with plenty to sample from. Kitchens were working double time to supply enough food for a feast for all the convention participants. There was baked cod from Port Kyros, along with Dragonberry tarts imported from Hyperion’s bakery. Roasted Pork from the Midlands. Spicy curry and dried fish from the Velhatien Desert. Dried Goose and Carrot soup from the Cold South. Imperial Deer from the Arcane East stewed and served with a walnut bread. Kyrosian wine and spirts were served all around from dry to sweet, with suggestions to pair with their meal choices at hand. Musicians played music to dance to while the powerful and influential met to rub elbows and talk business. It was the calm before the storm, when people were coming, meeting and greeting. Lords and ladies met to talk politics and to snoop on one another’s financial stability. Business owners came to network, and recruiters and headhunters were not in short supply to attend. Due to the nature of the duality of a charity event, it was semi open to the public, so Raveena had very little doubts that someone of a less savory nature would try to work their way in. The Queen was swathed in Hyperian colors of red and gold like a styled Sari dress. All around her attendants were rushing to ensure every hair pin was in place, key notes and guest names recalled. That the charity check she had to present to the orphanage was ready. First, though, let enough drink get in their systems to wind them down, she decided. It was time for the events to begin!
  19. "Come one, come all! Its Gundushar Day!" People gave a cheer, and the gates of the city were opened wide for all to come. On this day, the day of the founding of the town of Gundushar, they celebrated with mirth and merriment. People of many kinds made their way into the mountain town, spreading out to view what games or food they could take part in. On this day, the sky was only partially cloudy, having just recently sprinkled rain upon the stoney steps of the dwarven town. Vendors had set up their booths on the main street, advertising their wares in deep, booming voices. "Can't celebrate Gundushar day without your very own beard! Styles of all kinds, made of soft cotton for ultimate comfort on yer face!" "Meads, beers and lagers! Come get drunk on Gundushar day!" "Try yer hand at a game of throwing hatchets! First person to hit the dead center of the target gets a prize!" Truly it was a good day for the people of Gundushar, and they were more than welcome to share the joy with others coming to take part in the reverie that was Gundushar day.
  20. Vinosea: The City of Thieves Vinosea was well known for its powerful underworld. When the sacking of Alethea led to the Beast King’s death, many of the criminal factions fled underground in the Labyrinth City. Even then, it wasn’t terribly safe. The Shadow Regent of Alethea took careful residence in the fledgling city of Vinosea on the outskirts of the Sovereign City of Hyperion when Aleathea's Civil War ended. Better to be closer to home with the Imperial family. Soon, all too soon Vinosea fell into the regent’s hand, controlling every aspect of the flourishing city while capitalizing on what was felt to be more profitable businesses; prostitution, drugs, trafficking and smuggling. Soon, Vinosea became known as the City of Thieves. By and large, Vinosea’s sister cities frowned and wondered—what would the Empress do? Brehill could send its trees to drive them away, uprooted and devastatingly powerful. Imradel would send its finest mages to clean up the streets and rid the city of such unfitting scourge. Athadas, the Sentinel City, could bring the full might of the Aralim Knights upon them. Their Empress decreed no action would be taken. She would watch the city to see what her shadowy partner the regent would do. She wanted to know with whom she was truly dealing with. And so, Vinosea fell to vices. Vinosea had been pretty, once. It lacked the simplicity of Hyperian design in its infant stages. Over time the sweeping arches and spires and beautiful domes became squat, dank and cheapened. Only further in the heart of the city was there some manner of architectural integrity. The pleasure district of the city remains the one beacon of culture. Here, the Matreyan deities Vetra* and Jamy** reigned to assist their newly minted sister Ai’a*** in the divine war to come. Vetr was often worshiped by the lawless—or perhaps, it was better fitting that he was their law. His way was their way. The Emperor Consort Rowan Knight and members of the Web often paid tribute to Vetr that their kills would be honored and blessed by him. Too often the god is mistaken for being mortal because of his average appearance. No wetboy wants to be recognized. Still, it was Jamy who reigned dominant in the city. It had been a landslide victory for the working class as courtesans received equal rights and wealth. Raveena had elevated many of her followers to people of prestige and power. Her champion, Kirena Yor of the Carmine Dominion had rose to power and prominence, seemingly overnight. Jamy’s worshipers—plentiful that they are—brought business to Vinosea. Courtesans were blessed with their fair and pretty looks, their talents and their charm. Jamy herself was often depicted as being categorically stunning with flawless ebony skin, long flowing hair and molten eyes of gold. Vetr loved his sister so, their tempestuous affairs often shifting the mood of the city’s loci. For all the dark, dark and misery that was Vinosea, Jamy somehow brought life to it. Her beauty and appeal somehow shown through the rot and muck that was the city. Her shrines, everywhere. Mortals pined for her. Immortals reviled her. It was unquestionable that to have Jamy’s favor would bring you prosperity, that she could entice and seduce, that she could love deeply and unquestionably. And so, when today had come and gone, the Pantheon was shaken to its core; something unthinkable, impossible had happened. Someone had kidnapped Jamy. But before we jump ahead of ourselves, let’s go back to earlier that day… @TheShadow
  21. Port Kyros is a large, growing port city that had gone from a small fishing town to a grand tourist attraction and one of the main open-sea trading ports of the Rising West and Genesaris in general. It was a beautiful city, with the ocean waves rolling upon the shores of the sandy-white beaches. The thin strip of land spread across and became wider at it’s southern area, and the whole area was backed against the Wicker Mountains, dark and looming against the brightness of the beaches. The city was bright and colorful, buildings and docks spread along the thin strip, and limestone streets glimmered in the light of the sun. It spread out over vineyards and trees of pine, cypress, and olive. Shanna croons as they cross over a large orchard. The warmth that radiated from the coast was pleasing, and could be felt before they even descended upon the airship port. IT was a small thing, but Shanna was able to move their smaller airship into a tight spot between two larger, and settled the ship down with a pleased noise. She enjoyed the more Mediterranean atmosphere that came with Port Kyros and the surrounding areas, and she hoped to visit one of the museums while they were there, at least. The village of Kainos was her destination, but it could wait a day, despite her excitement at the prospect of gaining The Hand. The humidity surrounds them quickly, and Shanna draws in a deep breath, the air thick and choking briefly before she manages to acclimate rather quickly. As she drops open the door, a few black swifts scatter into the sky, chirping loudly in startlement as they escape. Shanna smiles as the sun settles on her visage and draws in a deep breath before she stretches her arms to the sky in homage before turning to Jaw Finder. “This is exciting! We can see all the things while we are here!” She chirps, turning back towards the limestone streets as she steps down. The roads are thick with people on foot, though a few are atop of mounts. They vary, some on thestrals, some on wyverns, even. Shanna peers at the Wyverns curiously, contemplating if she could use Wyvern breath to create the fabled Ashplumbs known to yet another city. They were sweet with a touch of smoke. Shanna quite loved Ashplumb syrup and pancakes…but the fabled trees required dragons breath to properly maintain the soil that gave them their delicious flavor. This thought is quickly deterred as her attention is drawn back to the wonderfully diverse culture that Port Kyros is known for. The ranging buildings, from baroque to the more modern, and Shanna reaches out to grasp Jaw Finders larger, claws and all, before gently leading the reptilian through the wide, but winding streets that leave her staring as they make their way. The wonderful smell of food stalls, tinged with the scent of fresh fish draw her attention and Shanna giggles softly at the smoked fish on sticks and various eels strung out on display as she wrinkles her nose. “Do you like fish, Jaw Finder?” Shanna finally turns towards the large reptilian and offers a beaming smile. “I hope so, I get the feeling we’re gonna be eating a lot of it here!” Shanna resumes 'dragging' Jaw Finder forward as she meanders down the streets curiously. Winding through people and mounts alike, she gasps at the sight of a cable car, and makes a pleased noise. "Oh! I hadn't realized they had cable cars! I love cable cars, they're so much fun!" Despite her excitement, Shanna does not move to get in one of the cable cars, and instead moves to follow the streets until she can find a directory. "I don't have a map, so we should see if we can find one!" "Silly girl, always running in unprepared." "Anyway, this place is run by Raveena Bartolome. She's of the Royal family, and I hear it's her that has caused all the recent developments in art and culture in Port Kyros! Mmm, we should find a temple to the Emporer God, Rafael, too! I need to offer my prayers again, it's been a while."
  22. SCENE: FOREST ON THE SOUTHEASTERN PERIPHERY OF PORT KYROS WELFRICK ERHARD JAGDHUND In the forest, reflexes guided the hunter. Right hand on the smooth, black walnut grip, the left hand drew back on the string — a quail-fletched arrow notched between two fingers. Another drop of water fell from the canopy above, plopping onto wrist as Welfrick focused his eyes on his target. His quarry was a lone stag — young and solid — alone in the clearing. Sucking in a deep breath of the moist air, he calmed his mind. He thought only of the scent of rain on dry soil before finally relaxing both his lungs and fingers. The string slipped from grip; an arrow flew true. In an instant, that young stag’s eyes went lifeless as it fell painlessly onto a litter of pine needles. A perfect shot. Boots trampled tracks in the wet podzol as Welfrick moved swiftly towards the stag. When he arrived, he took off his hood, and spoke a prayer in respect towards the fallen animal. It was a beautiful creature — unique among its ilk. It had a smooth, black, coat and bone white antlers. The hunter could not remember the last time he had seen a black deer, but he knew that they were fairly uncommon. Fragments of another forest came into view — great pines and vast, mountainous stretches. The thought of it warmed him strangely, and he felt an odd sense of nostalgia. He oft saw glimpses of the place, but knew not of its origin. Perhaps it was entirely fictitious. Perhaps it was a hunter’s dream, spun from the depths of his imagination. Perhaps it was a longing — a longing for a place he truly belonged. Grabbing the beast by the horns, Welfrick pulled the arrow from its neck, and dragged it back home on a sled of wood. * * * * * It was well past noon at that point — the sun to set in a few hours. Walking along the wet, cobblestone pavement along the seawall road, Welfrick took in the scenery. He didn’t know how, or when, but he had been living here by the ocean for as far as he could remember. Port Kyros was a place of bustling business and trade, and although he sometimes felt whelmed by the sheer energy of it all, there was an sense of comfort being there. Every breath of the salted air felt new. Every ship that sailed in — every new face that he met — every thing about this city felt novel and exciting. It was as if he was living his own, miniature adventure. Emerald eyes settled on the horizon. Calm waves, parting clouds, and the wet beach were in view. Perhaps he would try spear fishing after selling the game he had hauled back from the forest. The hides of those small foxes, rabbits, and badgers he caught would earn him a few ravens. Add in the elk, and he would be set for the next week. Pulling the covered cart full of animals, Welfrick continued down the road. He would be at his house soon. When he got back, he would change out of his cloak of faded green and worn leather armor. He would toss his jacket to the side, eat some food, and rest in his cot before the sun set. Maybe one day he would finally decide on going on an actual trek — an actual journey. He would have liked that. Finally leave Port Kyros for the wider world. He stopped. A woman passed by. Welfrick turned his head back — a face so familiar. Had he seen her before? @Malintzin
  23. [ I. Phänomenologie des Geistes ] The Man of Many Masks smiled at his own reflection in the glass of the tower, owing his self-admiration to its translucency. Arduous must the primogenitors have been when constructing the spectral tower— a masterpiece that was both artless and incandescent. There was little in the way of intricacy, and that fascinated someone such as Abbot Knight who made it a point to study architecture in all of the realms he beckoned passage to. While the twelve ascetics chanted around the ancient runeology situated in the middle of the circular, opaque floor, Abbot Knight stood still, grinning self-assuredly. A single break in concentration on his behalf or that of the channelers could result in mutually assured destruction but he didn't seem the least bit concerned. After-all, they were hand selected from across Valucre, brought to this world solely to perform these rites of worship. Each word enervated them, and it showed in the desiccation of their bodies practically rotting from the bone. This in-fact betrayed the will of their spirits however, which existed in this strange demi plane separated from the material. “That’s cheating…” a voice echoed beyond existence itself, coming from all and no directions at once. “Should you be here right now? I'm almost back to Valucre. You could...I'unno, die?” Abbot questioned the mysterious presence, though he seemed as aloof as he was before. “This was your plan all along was it not?” <???> “Hmmmmmmmmm?! I have no idea what you're talking about!” <Abbot> “Abbot!” <???> Like glass everything around him ignited and shattered, becoming imperceptibly bright light that marked the change of planar lines. When his eyes finally snapped too, the sight of the natural sun through the Renaissance window to his left was all he needed to confirm he was back “home”. They say home is where the heart is, and Abbot certainly felt his heart was tied to what little family remained. The Knight surname was a complicated one, and of all of the Knight's, he was certainly the most enigmatic and perhaps the most dangerous. Many found this to be hyperbolic especially when compared to his younger brother who was still in his restless slumber, but very few knew just how Abbot managed to acquire the resources and underworld connections that he had. Lifting his pale right hand upward, he flicked his black tresses from his eyes and smirked quietly. The same royal room designated to himself by the Queen, meaning the transference had completed itself without a hitch...of course, it seemed to be a one way trip, but Abbot wasn't all that concerned about leaving as he'd done a lot of work just to get back. “...why am I naked...” he spoke aloud, processing his statement in the same breath. Huh? Son of a bitch. Flipping the four layers of covers off of his bed with a single flick and his fears were confirmed. His body hit the floor in a military roll in the very next second, and a second after that? He'd managed to crawl his way across the crimson and golden trimmed carpet to the closet in the back of the room, and all before a maid managed to knock on his door, inquiring as to the noticeably large thud she'd heard from downstairs. “Is everything okay sir?” “Y-yes- wait what the hell? What did I tell you about calling me that!” “S-sir Abbot, you're back?!” The door swung open and well...she caught a half-dressed man. You can guess which half was dressed and which one wasn't. In-fact...who dresses themselves from the head down? Only a lunatic who had no idea what it truly meant to be human. “S-S-OH MY GOODNESS I PLEAD FOR YOUR APOLOGY SIR!” the maid yelled slamming the door shut and dropping to her knees in the next second. All she got was a boisterous laugh from the other side. “BAHAHAHAHA WANTED SOME OF THE GOOD OL' ABBY EH?!” “S-s...sir?” Why is he acting so different was all the maid could think. The Abbot Knight that the world knew was cold, apathetic, devoid of empathy or understanding of others. He was a shrewd man who cared only for results and the bigger picture, showing an interest in erudition and discarding anything deemed inconsequential. Something was much different about him now. A few seconds later and the door swung open, revealing the casually dressed royal with a mischievous smirk on his face. “Do you think I'm cute Millia?” “I...s-s...” Abbot, standing six foot and five inches, squatted infront of her and stared into her fluffy pink eyes with his own coarse, gunmetal gaze. “Let's go on a date sometime yeah? I'll let you tour one of my cottages.” Millia, a golden-haired maid of the the Nova Citadel, was utterly speechless. Aside from blushing almost uncontrollably, she turned her gaze away and did her best to regain her bearings in a fluster. Abbot all the while stood up and dusted his sable slacks, adjusted his massive midnight black collar, and turned left and right. How much time has passed since I was last here he wondered to himself, losing himself in some kind of deep, methodical processing. “Where is my violent sister-in-law? I hope I'm not too late...”
  24. After about a week of searching, locating the Prince Grant proved more difficult than he'd hoped for. This left Koji with one alternative option, one which double in purpose of checking up on a relative of his. It had been too long since he'd last seen Raveena, and it was high time he checked up on her. For the sake of maintaining appearances this time around, and thanks to their proximity from palace to palace, Koji opted to have them ferried by Palanquin to their destination. The vessel was carried by small dark clouds, with singular red hands extending from each and working in tandem to move the Palanquin smoothly as they traveled. To the front and back of the vessel were six warriors, a Tengu Knight leading, and one tailing; making the others more of mere foot soldiers, grunts. To each flank of the Palanquin marched one of the Emperor's Tatsuo, each accompanied by a pair of Wolves of Jigoku; Courtesy of the Imperial General himself, Kenshinobu. As always, there was assuredly more under his employ, namely his shinobi, whom lurked in the shadows. Not like the protection he and his Empress boasted visible or otherwise could even compare to themselves. Koji had no intentions of flexing, he simply acquired a small troop out of personal formality. "Si tir ti bvare, tepoha wux tepohada wer petranaswin di tafiafir wer kapraliv Raveena?" @Dreamer
  25. When the Nautilus' off shore excursion came to an end and returned to the docks, the group departed to make their way towards the pitiful thing Jade liked to call a ship. Still, her pride disallowed her from calling the ship by its proper name, the Dodgy Dolphin. She opted for a more respectable name and with a grand sweeping gesture welcomed the rag tag group aboard the Stormcutter. The ship has an plain, narrow hull and a raised quarterdeck carved with runes. It was no dinghy, but it certainly wasn't frigate material, either. She was durable and swift--though its technical position as a freighter didn't make it the fastest. It could fly, it could swim. It was good enough. The ship's chief mate was a ornery old hag who refused to give her name out of sheer paranoia. Everyone else that crossed paths with her called Tsu Niao. Jade suspected that Niao was paranoid because she was obsessive over legends of an obscure, sunken city--but Jade also reasoned the old woman probably lost her mind. Still, she was brilliant on the water and they were crotchety together. "Sleep where you can find room. You're on your own for meals. I wasn't exactly planning for company. NIAO! COMPANY!" Somewhere from below deck was a colorful, muffled string of profanity. Jade lumbered to the torn cage she and the Dragon whelp wrestled over and up-righted it with some effort. She was still ill over losing all the fish and crab that were caught but at least it didn't smell as bad. Wages lost were wages lost and Jade wasn't about that. She pointed to Leon, "You, get familiar with the cockpit. She's nothing fancy but you won't be stealin' her, either." Jade swept a hand over the part of her head that was buzzed and tangled through through the shoulder length of her hair and sighed. What in hell had she gotten herself tangled up in? Still, these folks knew important people--and assisting important people meant money, right? Money meant a better ship than the sad anchovy they were stuck with. Still, she flew nicely, swam steadily and hadn't sank. Yet. "Why are ya'll even doin' this?" She finally asked aloud. The adrenaline and terrible decision-making time was over. She didn't want to seem insensitive or anything; She got slavery and stuff--but she wondered what kind of difference this small, rag tag team was going to make? "I know why I'm in--I'm just the transportation--but what's it to you guys?" @Twitterpated @ODSTDRAGON @Trexasle @-Lilium-
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