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Eternity

DISCOVER! [Crystallo Stella] hidden city in the mountain

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Resting at the bar made of well polished wood, her chin resting on her delicate fingers. Sune rested her bare feet upon the feet of the stool, her slippers resting near. She seemed strange to those around her, definitely not a native to the cities near and far. Her long black hair held braids hidden in mass of black, feathers of red and orange dangling from beads. Her clothing was made of a red and gold silk, but short and cut in places to allow her to move freely.

 

Laughing with the bartender, she would slam back another glass of ale. Joy and happiness rolled off of her skin, affecting the very patrons around her. Waiting for the right crowd to enter the very bar she called home for the moment, she was ready to share stories of great fantasy, to pull together a group of adventurers with the courage to travel to far off lands hidden away for centuries.

 

Sune was a messenger of sorts, a spirit of prophecy. Sune wasn’t human in the purest form, but only appeared so to bring together a band of brave people who were willing to bring forth a land long hidden to the light of the world of Valucre.

 

Turning so slightly to watch the very door into the tavern, she waited to start the spread of her stories once again. She had spent several nights at the bar sharing her daring tales of men and women swinging from living vines, growing more forest with just the touch of their hands. She wanted to bring a group to find the very entrance to the city hidden away.

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With out much effort the door swung ajar as a metal man stepped through the entry way into the bar. Covered in head to toe in a protectively alloy. Solid plate for the breast back and the top. Of the head and feet. The rest was mail, lots of mail. It cascaded from his helm and covered his face.  A cross bow of magnificent wood held in one hand, in the other a mighty flail. Someone was going to get it when trying to mess with this Metal out cast. 

 

He walked up to the bar with a steely determination that most other couldn't muster and asked for some water. He was ready to go somewhere.

 

Spoiler

Sorry for short post stuff to do

 

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This tavern was a usual spot for him to restock on food, water and to find jobs, so he was well acquainted with the bartender on where he was usually sent out on errands for a small amount of money. Entering the tavern, he observes an armored fellow and a woman being the center of attraction at the bar table. He would sit 3 chairs apart from the woman to be able to pick up what she was saying but not seem so intrusive, in case of a possible chance of a job.

 

He observed the woman and thanks to his face covering, no one would notice him staring at her unless they paid extra attention. Black long silky hair, red and gold clothing, she clearly was an outsider..... Odd, someone with such elegant clothing reminds him of back in the day when he served kings and emperors, not this rugged wasteland of a place. 

 

The bartender would see him and walk to where he sat. The bartender would then say, "What can I get you Rōnin?" and with that, suddenly the atmosphere went a little quieter as some people without explanation left the tavern. The word Rōnin around was synonymous with assassin, mercenary, murderer, wanderer, and trouble-maker. Especially with his signature rugged outfit, he was the poster boy of this stereotype, and so people simply tend to leave because rumor goes that wherever he goes: death sure is to follow and they don't want to get caught in the mess.

 

"Hot water, please," He said as he laments over the general negative conception of him. The Bartender simply nodded and gave him a small cup of hot water before saying "Rumor has it that you've been doing some shady business, it's making people afraid y'know" to which he replied "The words of gossip can be misleading, trusting them is no better than to ride a horse blindly to a cliff". The Bartender simply acknowledges his words and went back to talking with the woman. He would continue to keep an eye on the lady beside him, just in case.

@Eternity

 

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A weary Callen made his way into the tavern, a pint to sate his thirst on his mind after a long days travel. His cloak's hood was down, his face in full view as he wiped sweat from his brow. The Ranger couldn't help but let a smile creep onto his face at the jovial atmosphere around him as he made his way towards the bar, removing his bow and resting it against the bar next to him as he took a seat. He waited briefly for the bartender to approach, placing a couple bronze coins onto the counter.

"A pint of ale, sir." Callen asked succinctly, the bartender nodding before walking off to fill the request. The archer spent the time looking over some of the patrons. Three in particular came to his attention quite quickly. A very large man near head to toe in armor, armed with a crossbow and a flail as he partook of some water. A man just a stool away with a face cover and rugged clothing, a curved sword well within their reach should it be necessary. And most out of place, the woman a few stools away from the swordsman next to him, clad in rather elegant clothing that seemed out of place with their jovial attitude while chugging a pint of ale. While none of them gave him a feeling of impending danger, the archer felt that keeping an eye on them wouldn't be a bad idea whatever the case. Genesaris wasn't his stomping grounds, and he had to use a bit of caution in a land that he was, for the most part, unfamiliar with. Shelving those thoughts for the time being, the bartender had arrived with his drink, which the archer delightfully took a long draught from.

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I was thrown through the door. When I got up and tried to run back out, the door wouldn't let me move it. Not to say it was immovable- just to me. I scowled at the doornob of the otherwise perfectly open door, and instead spun, trying to deflect anyone who might have been watching me make a fool of myself, by insinuating my way through some partying locals who were rousing up the joint before I made my way to the bar. I peered up in my straw hat at the ceiling, being mindful that people weren't crawling about the rafters and knocking their bootdust into my drink.

"We're like the start of a bad joke, you realize." It was only then that I drew my pipe, squeezing in next to the man wandering around in full-plate in the middle of the day, before turning to him and plainly stating, "Oh my goodness, you must be hot in there. Do you need any help in taking that off, good sir?" I turn.

It was quite plain to see what I was. Big oversized straw hat, overflowing blue robes that somehow were a perfect fit to not drag across the ground. Of course, if my usually quite androgynous face, the pale pallor, and ashen locks didn't give it away- I don't know what did? The pipe also added to the effect, stinking up the bar with the dash of madness I was having a puff of.

I reached into my pocket, throwing a scattering of coins, it quite plainly ingots of gold,  "Another round, all around. Prospero- your Magician."

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Ah, Genesaris. How Archmaic hated it. Too much technology, not enough magic. Unfortunately, he'd have to stay here for a while so he could get back to Terrenus. Might as well have some fun while I'm here, he thought to himself, and decided to walk into the nearest tavern, looking for a quest, as was his favorite type of "fun."

Before he stepped in, he had forgotten that he looked much too wealthy and powerful for this type of place. He used his arcane prowess to disenchant his robes and his mask, removing the magical green color that flowed through them.

Finally walking in, he sat down 2 seats away from the one who called himself Rōnin, setting two silver coins on the bar. "Ale, please." He scanned the other people sitting at the bar, hoping that the somewhat-expensive robes wouldn't give him away. Fortunately, the man sitting in full plate armor holding a flail and crossbow was much more noticeable than he was.

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He noticed two more people have entered the tavern and quickly notices that most of them are far from home since this is a place of technology and manpower, not magic. As a wanderer and a mercenary, he has been to almost every island. Terennus is where he usually gained most of his earnings. People there usually hired him to take out rival leaders or simply hire him just to transport a parcel from point A to point B. This of course was hard, being in Terennus means that technology wasn't as advanced as Genesarris and so he had to travel by foot or horse there, usually getting ambushed by bandits.

He has killed his fair share of mages through the years and if he was being honest, they are one of the hardest to fight. Magic was something he couldn't fight effectively against, it is too unpredictable and too long-ranged and he generally won't kill a magic user for a cheap price, so he keeps an eye on the man beside him.

 He would turn his head to the man in the fancy robes, not that it would matter since his round straw hat and covered face means he could be looking anywhere. "So mage, what brings you to the Orisia Isles?" He asked the man in the fancy robes two seats beside him. 

@Bkfootball

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Where was he? How long had he been flying for? These questions and many similar ones raced through Icarus's mind as he plummeted towards the ground. Before he hit the ground, he spread his wings and flapped them in order to break his fall. This would probably work in the future once he figured out how to land first. But for now he just accomplished sliding across the ground for less time. 

Landings however caused a general crowd, and he hated crowds. So he quickly stole away to the nearby tavern. 

As he darkened the establishment's doorstep, every patron looked at him, or so he thought. Who wouldn't wany to look at the freak with the long devilish horns sticking out of his skull and the large jet black angel wings sprouting from his back. Icarus clutched his stomach and stumbled to the bar. He hadn't had anything to eat for the week and a half he had been flying causing him to crash land here. "Food please?" He asked the bartender.

Icarus glanced around as he laid his eyes on a few notable figures, a storyteller, a rugged swordsman, two magic users, and a bowman. As the bartender came back with a steaming bowl of gruel, he happily took it, and accidentally smacked an armored man with his wing as he turned around. 

@ODSTDRAGON

Edited by Holden

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Archmaic, receiving his ale, lifted his mask up just enough to expose his upper lip and took a sip of the drink before lowering it over his face again. He turned to face the person who began talking to him, studying the outer essence of his mind.

"I am simply waiting until I can return to Terrenus, my home. Why are you here, stranger?"

 

@The Blex

Edited by Bkfootball

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"I.... I am a wanderer" He asks. His voice spoke of honor and respect but still, has a grave tone to it giving the impression of him being through a lot. He lets go of his grip on his blade and takes out something from his bag.

"my next stop is Terennus and I'm trying to find work to get enough money for repairs on my ship. May I have the honor of knowing your name?" he asked

@Bkfootball

Edited by The Blex

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The archer slowly drank from his glass, his off hand absently spinning on of his judge's pens as he took in the sight of the bar. Not a real high-class joint, but far from dingy, and well patroned if the number of people enjoying themselves were any indication. The stools near him had soon been filled, Callen overhearing parts of the conversation between the masked swordsman and what looked to be a mage.

'So, he's heading to Terrenus, eh. If he's half as good with that sword as he looks, he'll find no shortage of employment opportunities.' He thought as he heard another magician announce another round to all of the patrons. Callen chuckled at the mage's good-natured antics.

'This trip keeps getting better.'

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He wonders on where Drondus lies. He has been in Terennus before and he never found where Drondus is, maybe he was looking at the wrong place... Nonetheless, that could be a good next destination for his travels.

"I am Rōnin, I have no name," he said. He then realized something was wrong.... His pauses, his face..... Why he uses a mask. About 32 years ago, a siege on a kingdom was taken place in Terennus and a rival kingdom hired him as a leading general. At the middle of the battle, he felt something in his brain. An unwanted presence to say the least. He would notice suddenly a wizard on a tower. He stared at him with great intent and suddenly he collapsed on the battlefield, somehow overburdened by a guilt triggered in some way. If it wasn't for a fellow archer who shot the wizard from the tower down to the ground, he would've died. The wizard reminded him of his past failures and so he beheaded him. He now realizes he's trying to do the same. "Don't try it, my mind is not a good place to be in." He said as he gripped the handle of his sword in case he didn't comply.

He keeps the memory of his family, his face, his name, everything about his old past self deep in the recesses of his mind. This was done through hard grueling meditation after that very battle. But since he just remembered about that memory about 32 years ago, that memory would be readable by the mage. Luckily he already forgot what he was thinking of back in the battlefield, but he did not forget the time of that battle. Since he looks at the age of 40 and that battle was 32 years ago, it would easily be deducible that he was much, much, much, older than he looks like, proven by how effective his skills with the weapons in that memory was.

@Bkfootball

Edited by The Blex

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Archmaic listened intently to the figure calling himself Rōnin, realizing his mistake. "First mage of Eredor, you idiot," he thought to himself. Drondus was very well hidden from the commoners, even by those close by. For being his home village, he had never actually been there. Ah well, not that anyone would discover it any time soon.

He was somewhat surprised by the man's outburst, although not enough to show it beyond a face, which couldn't be seen anyway. He chuckled nervously and turned away from the man, lifting up his mask and sipping more ale, muttering under his breath, "Fine, jerk."

 

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The whole time the tavern was gaining more and more adventures and misfits, giving the messenger more and more excitement. So much potential fell into her hands, inspiring her to tell her stories louder and louder. Soon enough Sune was standing on the bar top sharing her stories, and the rumors of other travelers she had met.

“You wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see it for yourself! Women covered in tattoos swinging from vines, manipulating the ground with a magic known in some other lands. “

Leaning down towards the small growing group of people, she would sit down on the bar top. With her legs dangling over the edge she would kick them back and forth.

“Some believe that they live inside the Mountain of Hodenaufer, others think they live in the massive forest on the mountain.. I say those of you who are interested join me on a quest to discover where they’re truly from!”

The bartender was a bit annoyed with the woman being all over his bar top, that he nudged the woman on the back. Sliding off of the bar with a soft thud of her feet on the wood floor, she let out a joyous laugh.

“I will lead who ever to the mountain, and we can find the entrance together!” Leaning back against the bar, she would let out a breath that she seemed to have held out of excitement.

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