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Writer: Tatsuo
Date Wed Oct 9 12:09:10 2013
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu Oct 10 09:18:02 2013
To Conclave Red_robe All Imm rp
Subject Direction from the Lord
She smiled as she paced across the bit of forested area which ran about
her home, looking back and fourth as she came slowly upon the well.
Glancing up at the front door, hoping not to be noticed, quite yet. A bit
of a muted clamor as she maticulasly undid each of the straps toe either
side of her ribs rubbing at a bruise with a wince as her altered platemal
breastplate sank with a thud an inch or so into the ground. Groaning a bit,
at the repetitious nature of things, she was still a bit new heavy armor,
altered or not. Eventually it All piled up near the stone foundation of the
well. She peered over the stone mouth of it and winced. Her armet style of
helmet once more had her hair sweat plastered one side of her head, she
looking again to watch her reflection run the tip of her tongue up against a
chip in her tooth and the several inches, open cross, for her to see and
breath from had been left ashen and coal marked on her face. She grimaced,
left now in just her comforting silksteel she leaned forward, closed her
eyes, and pushed her head into the well. Coming up shortly, both hands
cupped full of water she scrubbed the ash from her face, tried to fix her
hair the best she could, walking up to her front door with a bit of anxious,
and pleasant smile on her face. As she reached for the knob, the door was
pushed out towards her, she looked up with now, a big happy grin as Dyami
pulled her into a soft embrace.
Inhaling deeply as she closed her eyes. It wasn't just the food. It was
everything. The smell of the wood from the walls, of Dyami's perfume, the
fragrance of honeysuckle wafting in from the open window near her flower
garden. She had not yet become a stranger at home.. But was often kept far
later and longer into the nights then she preferred and on occasion to
twilight. However as she set the table and watched the other woman cook
that was from mind. Idly smirking at pole arm which certainly didn't
belong, she glances around ready to scold a large yinnae traveler, who was
seemingly absent. Popping her head out the back door she quickly realized
Sygard too had meandered off for the night. Surprising, as she removed two
place settings from the dinner table.
Smiling and giggling at one another as they ate and reminisced she didn't
quite have the finesse to explain she could only really hear about half the
conversation.. The clang of steel upon steel, the claps of thunder, and
ariel's screeching blared above All but a commanding voice whenever she
removed herself from battle, usually for several hours. The knock at the
door was expected, as she pushed her plate away and opened it and showed
Fardoc inside, taking the parcel of clothing from him as she did she took up
her wand and began to enchant. Exhausting she though, turning to the pair
making small talk. I n-need to rest my head.. For j-just a moment. The
pair nodded understanding, as Ashlen laid her head down and within a breath
or two, was out like a light. Had either looked over, her eyes moving
beneath her lids would have portrayed her rest was far from restful.
Back a quarter length of the world she looked out the window of the red
tower top, the time of day was unclear, as were the chill or lack there of
around her. What was apparent was the sudden trembling of the structure
around her. She went to grab onto a pillar as the ground before her
cracked, her eyes went wide as shock took over her reaction process. The
red tower was crumbling beneath her very feet.
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu Oct 10 09:32:21 2013
To Conclave Red_robe All Imm rp
Subject Direction from the Lord cont.
About the time she would have screamed bloody murder, in her dream, she
suddenly snapped quickly back to reality by the sound of a very thundering
and omnipresent voice. "ASHLEN". She sprang up quickly, the calm setting of
house she quickly drank in. Fardoc quirked a brow Is everything alright,
lass? Nodding to Fardoc, and smiling at Dyami, retorting, just those damn
v-vampires having a bit of sport i imagine. She was becoming quite used to
having her mind intruded on during the night. Filled with one horrid image
after another, truth be told she hardly slept at All anymore.
She had set to go back to enchanting, when suddenly, through the front door
which burst open, emminated red pulsing beams of magic which crashed in
breaking several object in the process and manifested themselves as a bright
crackling and large, red spark. Immediately her arms went to protectively
cover Dyami, as well as her spell of sanctuary. Fardoc did the same for
her. She glanced passed the figure into the yard, where her armors rested
and cringed. However it became clear, as several red beams settled upon
her, and her protectives suddenly disappeared, it would not matter. "IT IS
NO VAMPIRE. My lord breathed life into you and if were what he wanted, he
could take it away. Do you know my lord?" The magical voice boomed around
her and the others. Dyami who had taken a defensive stance suddenly found
her staff snatched away from her, and hovering in mid-air. The voice then
began to, for lack of better wording, taunt the ariel and the dwarf,
"Children of the light, what do you I would possibly want with you. I have
come to speak to the one whom wears the color of my Lord." Bowing her head
immediately, after nodding to the voice it shortly became clear, the force
of which she was speaking. "yes, i know him, what w-would you ask of me."
In the mean time Dyami was dodging blows, as her own staff had began to
attack her, presumably in the voices impatience. She argued with it over
the fact however it simply continued, "The threat of Chaos is not over. You
have been given this vision, because it is YOU who might fight to make it
untrue." She waited for more..
Opening her eyes and looking up again the voice was getting further away,
the red light began to dim, Now tend to your bruised, especially this one
who has such a hard time holding her staff. Fardoc began to muster a retort
to the dwarf, when the floating staff flew to him and gave him a crack on
the head as well. Ashlen found herself suddenly stifling a giggle. A
rather wide, sly grin began to spread across her face. As she whispered
quietly, "yes my lord.. I will fight to my l-last b-b-breath."
Writer: Tatsuo
Date Fri Oct 11 16:37:33 2013
Writer: Didgen
Date Sat Oct 12 01:50:07 2013
To Wargar All Imm RP
Subject The Awakening: Part One - The Slumber
Didgen sat on the pews of the hall of Cliath lost in thought. It was
easy to do these days. When there was no one else awake, there was plenty
of time for thinking.
His steady hands moved mechanicly across one of the small moon shaped blades
on his whip. The sound of the whetstone honing the blade was soothing to
him. It helped him to focus. He smiled as a random thought crossed his
mind, and he wondered if there were any 'spiders' in the pit today. He
hadn't seen Oryx in some time, and the thought made him sad.
Oryx wasn't the only one either. Since Drobsek had stepped down from his
Thaneship, and Tarsiel had taken over, the rager was rarely seen walking the
halls. His gruff demeanor, etched with a side of humor, and covered with a
coating of rage and a love for battle had always put Didgen at ease.
Drobsek kept things simple most of the time. Except for when it came to
Betha, of course. Didgen thoughts turned a corner once again, and he
realized he even missed Chut. The loud mouthed, crass mul who had gotten
himself into more trouble than an elf in a dwarven pub. Even as much
trouble as he was, he was kin, and the hall was never quiet or dull when he
was about.
So many of the lads were quiet now. The halls no longer echoed with the
laughter and the curses of his kin. The songs of battle and drink. It made
Didgen tired. He slept often, and spent his time alone. He knew that he
had lost something. He always knew that the strength of the Mountain was
found in its unity. But it was hard to be united, hard to have the fire
nowadays. And Tarsiel had recently admitted he was ready to stop down as
Thane. Who would take up the mantle next, Didgen wondered. Who would bring
the ale and song and laughter back to the mountain?
His hands moved mechanically across the half moon blades on his whip. His
mind drifted, and he remained oblivious to his surroundings.
It wasn't long before he drifted off into another long slumber, tired and
feeling old.
Writer: Tatsuo
Date Sat Oct 12 06:58:29 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Sat Oct 12 21:10:07 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (Part 4: Momiji's Song)
It was noon and sunny this brisk autumn day. And like clockwork, Momiji
returned once again to the nearby field, eager to replenish her supply of
wildflowers, for anyone she might come across. This, in and of itself, was
a simple task for the little raven- haired girl. The field was a complete
profusion of daisies, tigerlilies, asters, coneflowes, dandelions,
goldenrod, and even the occassional silverrod. More then the dedicated
little girl could possible give away.
"Though the autum-nal winds, are bwow-ing..." The little girl sang her
song. The same song she sang every time she came here. She came here
several times a day, ever since her and her mother came to live at the
Tower.
"... And our wove, has been went in twain!" She had heard her mother
singing it, as she packed up their belongings to leave Shonoko. It had
brought her mother to tears, as it did to Momiji, every time she sung it.
"When the weaves re-turn, to the ma-ple twees..." Momiji's voice nearly
breaking on each word as she frantically picked the flowers before her.
"... That is when, I will see you a-gain!" The sobbing girl wiped at her
eyes with her sleeve. She looked down to see she had picked more than
enough flowers this trip. Momiji quietly regained her composure, and stood
with her bundle of flowers, gazing up into the cloudless, azure sky.
"I can do it better, Daddy." The raven-haired girl whispered, keeping her
eyes on the sky.
Though the autumnal winds, are bwow-ing,
And our wove, has been went in twain!
When the weaves return, to the maple twees,
That is when, I will see you a-gain!
"I'm going to make everyone around me happy, Daddy."
"Just like you did.
With that, Momiji returned home for lunch.
Writer: Tatsuo
Date Sun Oct 13 17:05:51 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Mon Oct 14 01:02:32 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (Part 5)
"You see, along with the eight 'spoke' roads leading to and from the
tower, there are also four 'loop' roads laid out concentrically." Thimtax
went on and on about the city layout as he and the Chairman crossed the
Tower area and entered one of several wrought-iron gates, into what
Ixi'kweez had presumed was the road running in-between sections 'C', and
either 'B' or 'D'. "We're opening two sections at a time for occupation.
Save for the earliest settlers, who are left to stay where they are,
wherever that might have been. When those sections are two-thirds full, we
open the next two sections up. And so on. Inner fence is three hundered
feet from the tower, the outer fence three hundered feet from the inner."
Ixi'kweez could indeed see that this section 'C', and it's neighbor, were
already developed to a significant degree. He gazed around him. From any
view, he could see plush little cottages, aside meager shanties. Noone
seemed to live in squalor, though the disparity was noticable.
"Problem we're running across," the hard-hat wearing gnome continued, "...
Is that some of our more established employees have had the savings to build
a nice home here. Those who came here recently, looking for opportunity,
don't have that ability. Not to say they live in abhorrent conditions, by
any means. In fact, Mart-Town is a nice, clean place. But, if they didn't
come here with a nice nest egg, then austerity is their recourse, until they
can save up some money. Now, see? That little shanty straight ahead.
That's Momoko's."
The Chairman frowned slightly as he looked upon what was basically a large
tent frame, covered in deerskins, sitting atop a wooden platform, about a
foot off the ground. Several small herb gardens surrounded the platform,
giving the air a pleasant scent. A small cooking fire billowed up through a
vent in its roof. Winter was coming, and the dwelling Ixi'kweez looked
upon, did not look suitable for the cold conditions ahead. He could only
wonder. Just how many other homes in Mart-Town, were inadequate for winter?
"Hi, Mistaw Ixi'kweez!" Momiji waved, as she stepped out of the house to
pick some fresh herbs. She yelled back into the house. "Mummy, can Mistaw
Ixi'kweez and Mistaw Thimtax stay for wunch?"
Writer: Claudette
Date Mon Oct 14 04:31:22 2013
Writer: Claudette
Date Mon Oct 14 04:31:34 2013
Writer: Alexiel
Date Mon Oct 14 08:35:13 2013
To Arkane Althainia Lethe Vycktor Setaru Charyal Braeden ( All Imm Taliena Malachive Religion )
Subject A Vow To Remember : Part 1 of 2
"Make sure ya muck out the stalls before ya leave today. And kill that
spider, will ya?"
Alex eyed the spider with distaste. "Yes, sir."
She watched the stable owner's frumpy figure disappear in the direction of
the temple. Or was it the tavern? Not that you could tell from here since
they were both on the same street.
***
"So how about a ride?"
Alex didn't bother looking up right away - that cocky tone had to come from
a city boy. Her disinterested glance confirmed it. Expensive clothes,
fancy weapons. "We're closed. Come back tomorrow."
"Just a quick one. I'm good for it." A rakish grin.
"Sure ya are. Now get lost."
"Damn that's a big spider on the wall."
Alex slammed her glove at the bothersome arachnid, but when she pulled her
glove back, the wall was clean and there was a brisk breeze from the south,
meaning.... The gate was wide open and the devilish rake was halfway across
the field with her favorite spotted stallion Egret. Bareback out of all
things. The stupid bastard!
She jumped into the adjoining stall, saddled up Morningstar and gave chase.
When she finally caught up with them, Egret was bellowing and thrashing in
the shallow banks of the river and the boy was hanging by his britches from
a tree.
Egret was in horrible pain. That was clear. The rake was too, but she
didn't give a damn about him. She surveyed Egret's legs - they were broken
in at least three places. She looked Egret in the eye, steadily, willing
the stallion to be calm. She pulled out her sharpest dagger.
"Taliena bless."
***
Covered in Egret's blood, Alex lugged the screaming rake on a makeshift
gurney back to the village. Waiting primly with her mother was an elegantly
attired representative sent by his family. Having a cup of goddamn tea out
of All things.
Writer: Alexiel
Date Mon Oct 14 08:50:37 2013
To Arkane Althainia Lethe Vycktor Setaru Charyal Braeden ( All Imm Taliena Malachive Religion )
Subject A Vow To Remember : Part 2 of 2
A piece of dried horse dung landed -TWHACK!- in front of her.
Alex glared in the direction from whence the dung came, a sharp retort which
included a fine selection of curse words on her lips. But one look at the
mischievous head full of blonde curls stilled her anger.
"Drink after work?"
Alex grinned and nodded at her best friend Rharitee.
***
As soon as they walked into the bar, every patron looked up and cheered.
Some stood up and slapped Alex heartily on the back, others shoved fresh
drinks in their hands.
"I heard the good news!"
"Congratulations!"
"You lucky, lucky girl."
Alex looked around in bewilderment. Rharitee shrugged and took a long
draught of her free beer.
An older woman leaned into Alex, her cheeks red with excitement, her breath
redolent with whiskey. "And that handsome young Ashbrook is quite the catch
too, hrrmm?" The woman winked at her. "Rumor has it that it was his fifth
transgression, and the family is fed up with bailing him out. Time for him
to settle down, and what better way than with a young lass like you?"
Alex glanced at Rharitee. Rharitee raised her glass in a helpless,
semi-embarrassed toast.
"You knew?"
"Come on, Alex, you were going to have get married sometime. At least this
way you can do it in style."
Alex shoved her way out of the bar. When she got home, her mother beamed at
her, a crisp white missive bearing a certain family crest in her hands, a
large velvet sack spilling gold coins on the kitchen table.
The rest of the day was spent with the village tailor, and what seemed like
miles of silk and organza, in nearly identical shades of ecru, and eggshell,
and off-white. Her mother reviewed her extensive shopping list. Her kid
brother Leaf chewed on the tiny seed pearls that seemed to crop up
everywhere. Alex smiled brightly between measurements and questions and
more measurements.
Later that night, she stole All the liquor from the cabinet, two loaves of
rye bread and a perfectly baked apple pie, and disappeared into the
darkness.
To hell with marriage.
Writer: Tatsuo
Date Mon Oct 14 11:54:56 2013
Writer: Tatsuo
Date Mon Oct 14 12:12:44 2013
Writer: Vycktor
Date Mon Oct 14 12:13:31 2013
Writer: Dxutim
Date Mon Oct 14 22:52:43 2013
To All Conclave Drakkara Kantilles Sebatis Imm (RP)
Subject The Oath, Part 1
Streaks of lightning licked at the air as Dxutim slammed his fist down on
the table leaving a patch of scorched wood. It had only been a day after
the small council meeting had concluded, and already dissenters were in open
rebellion of it's decision. Dxutim snorted at the air angrily, deciding
what to do with the skeptics in the colleges.
"How can they not see the furtherance in magic that lies within the
council's decision? "
The decision to allow a former Wizard to return, even with the curse of
vampirism was being questioned by the protesting magi. Dxutim looked toward
the north where a couch once sat, and recalled the time of drain when being
visited by an old mage.
"If that old fool could harness the blood magic, then SO WILL WE! " As
another lightning enveloped fist slammed the table in contempt. The Master
cared very little for what Knights of Gareth, Slayers of Greystoke, or the
entire outside world thought about the Towers. But when it came to the
alignment of his magi, he knew there was still a way to travel before he
could have them All aligned to one goal. True magic, which encompassed all
natures and shades of magic. The Master knew how dangerous this was to
achieve, but also knew the rewards were in line with the risks, and was
determined to elevate the Conclave to the utmost powerful organization
without a shred of doubt.
"We will learn to manipulate this gift once it is fully understood, I do
hope your threshold for pain has diminished. " As he looked over to Xaerik,
draped in the darkest of Black robes. "The findings that we come to will no
doubt lead to revolutions in magic. Until that time, our free spirited
friends will just have to deal with your presence. "
Dxutim lifted himself from the table, which was now completely scorched at
his seat from the dark energy that the Master emanated, as if he was a
catalyst for such. He nodded once. "Power in magic. "
Writer: Elisbet
Date Tue Oct 15 09:24:00 2013
Writer: Dorric
Date Tue Oct 15 22:19:42 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Tue Oct 15 23:19:37 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Oct 17 01:59:55 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (Part 6)
Ixi'kweez was impressed as Momoko placed the large platter upon the low
table in the middle of the dwelling. His mouth watered as he looked upon
the simple but delicious looking fare. Grilled chicken and mixed greens on
wooden skewers. A perfect compliment to the large bowl of wild rice Momoko
placed on the table beside the platter. He was relieved to know nobody was
lacking for decent food here. The four leisurely enjoyed their lunch,
accompanied by intermittent small talk. After the group was satiated, and
had finished their tea, Momiji quickly cleared the table. It was clear, she
was eager to get back to work.
"Mummy, may I go out now, pwease?"
"Yes, Mo." Momoko smiled warmly. "Just be home in time for dinner."
"I will. Bye evewyone!" Momiji waved and scampered through the exit,
stopping briefly to pick up her bundle of wildflowers, and headed off into
town.
"I thank you very much for inviting Thimtax and myself to lunch. It was
wonderful." Ixi'kweez broke the silence in the wake of Momiji's departure.
"And I must say. Little Momiji is just an absolute delight."
"Yes, she truly is..." Momoko replied pensively, then continued. "She's
very brave. She still hasn't really gotten over the death of her father
yet. I know, she goes out there every day with her wonderful little smile.
And she makes a lot of people happy. And they love her. But, she doesn't
really have a friend, you know?"
Ixi'kweez nodded thoughtfully. Mart-Town was still in its infancy. There
weren't many children about her age, just yet. This, of course, would
change with time, but little Momiji needed a friend now. And she -deserved-
a friend now. All little children did.
"Ixi, I know that look." Thimtax chimed in. "You've something up your
sleeve. What's on your mind?"
"I think I might be able to do something that will help. Miss Momoko, would
you mind if I dropped by sometime after dinner tonight?"
"Why, yes. Yes, that would be just fine." A faint smile returned to
Momoko's face.
"Excellent." Ixi'kweez rose to his feet, and Thimtax followed his lead.
"I thank you again for your hospitality. I'll see you tonight." The
Chairman and the little gnome exited back into the town. They stopped when
Momoko peeked her head out from the tent.
"And you, Thimtax. I'm sure we'll see you, same time tomorrow?"
"You know it!"
Ixi took a long hard look at Thimtax. "You come here for lunch, every day?"
The hardhat wearing gnome smiled coyly. "What? I have to keep up my
strength! It's just one of the perks of being Project Manager!"
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Thu Oct 17 02:19:13 2013
Writer: Tatsuo
Date Thu Oct 17 04:00:32 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Fri Oct 18 13:52:09 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (Part 7: Interlude)
Squeezums stretched luxuriously upon a low hanging branch in her favorite
maple tree, finally waking from her mid-day slumber. Life on the Chairman's
Shalonesti estate was simple and gratifying for the now middle-aged red
panda. Save for the occasional trip to the outside world with Ixi'kweez,
her days at home consisted of eating, sleeping, and playing.
All three of which, came easily to Squeezums. Food was abundant. There
were trees everywhere. And, playing came easy as well, for the lovable
panda's scrambled little brains. Rolling over to her side, she made eye
contact with her left paw. Fascinated, sheath 'stared at it mystified, as
if she was seeing it for the very first time. Yes, this would occupy her
time nicely for the afternoon. '
"Squeeeeeeeeee-zummmmms!" A voice yelled from the direction of the house.
The sound of her own name, she recognized, of course. But this red, hairy
thing, Squeezums was now consumed by. Something about it.....
"Squeeeeeeeee-zummmmms!"
The lazy panda was finally shaken from her fascinated, and nearly catatonic
state. She turned her head towards the voice, her paw completely blanked
once again from her mind. She would rediscover it again soon enough. But
right now, her owner was calling.
"squee" Taking a moment to stretch once more, she rose to her feet and
deftly made her way to the ground, trotting out to meet the Chairman.
==================================
Ixi'kweez smiled as the little red panda, graying muzzle and all, emerged
from the treeline. He had not been able to spend as much time with
Squeezums as he would have liked. Between his business, the tower, and his
family, it had been a while since he had laid eyes on his old friend. She
seemed no worse for the wear, as she quietly loped us the hill. She pulled
up just feet in front of him, and sat up on her haunches.
"Squeezums!" She exclaimed. She clapped briefly, then sat back down once
again.
Ixi leaned down to scratch the panda behind her ears. "Hello, Squeezums.
I'm sorry I haven't been home in a while."
He spent some time playing with Squeezums, as he thought about the story the
Damimyo Ieyasu told him many years ago in Tokaido. Back then, the elderly
wizard Hojo, attempted to grant the panda the ability to speak. His
experiment was meant to be given to Yuki, a terminally ill girl, as a
companion. Granted, Hojo's experiment was for the most part, a failure.
She could say her name, and that was it. To boot, her brains were
irreversibly addled during the process. Despite All of this, Squeezums was
a wonderful companion that little Yuki cherished for the rest of her short
life.
Squeezums, Ixi'kweez mused, was a friend to Yuki, when she needed one the
most. She was also a friend to him, when -he- needed one. Now, it seems
another little girl needed a friend. And the Chairman could think of none
better.
"Come on, Squeezums. Let's go for a walk. There's someone I would like you
to meet."
"Squeezums!" The little panda clapped.
Writer: Dorric
Date Fri Oct 18 15:24:12 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Fri Oct 18 21:49:01 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (Part 8)
"Momiji! Could you come out here please?" Momoko yelled from the deck
on which her home was built. Evening was coming quickly to Algoron. The
sun had just set, the light it provided to Mart-Town was now being replaced
by the myriad torches and lanterns which flared into existence in and around
every home. It was crisp, but not cold. There wasn't a cloud in the sky,
allowing the glories of the heavens to fully reveal themselves.
"Yes, Mummy?" The little raven-haired girl answered as she opened the flap
and walked onto the deck. "Is there something I can hel--"
Momiji's reply abruptly halted as her gaze was immediately drawn downward to
the little red panda, whose gaze was in turn drawn to hers. The girl's onyx
eyes grew unbelievably wide in amazement, mirroring the panda's. For
several seconds, they maintained this tableau.
"Yes, I think these two will get along quite nicely." Ixi'kweez whispered
to Momoko. He stepped forward and leaned down, placing a hand on the
panda's shoulder. He doubted the girl even noticed he was there.
"Go on, girl. Tell Momiji your name!"
The little panda sat up once again on her haunches.
"Squeezums!" The little panda clapped happily and sat down once again,
maintaining her gaze on the astonished little girl.
"She's..... She.. Can I pet her?" Momiji was still clearly flabbergasted
by this unique animal. She was also clearly in love already.
"Of course. Come here. Squeezums loves attention. See?"
The little girl dropped to her knees and began to stroke the panda's soft
fur. Squeezums, in turn, rolled onto her back, clearly relishing the
attention Momiji gave her. Ixi'kweez allowed them a few minutes to get
further acquainted, then spoke once again.
"Momiji, you know I've been very busy with the tower lately. I haven't been
able to spend as much time with Squeezums as I would like. She could really
use a friend. Do you think you could take care of her for me? She seems to
really like you."
Momiji gasped as she looked up at the Chairman in astonishment. "You mean
it?! You want me to take care of Squeezums? Yes, Mistaw Ixi'kweez, I'll
take such good care of her! Thank you! Thank you!" Momiji draped her
arms around Squeezums, who couldn't get enough of it.
"Well, I've taken up enough of your time, ladies. It's time for me visit
Thimtax at his pavillion. I'm sure we'll run into each other again soon."
With that, Ixi'kweez stepped out into Mart-Town once again. This evening
went just as he had hoped. Squeezums would be a good companion for her.
Plus, a little girl with a panda was bound to attract other friends as
Mart-Town continued to grow. He made way through section 'C' and into the
tower courtyard, back to Thimtax's pavillion.
Writer: Dra'gan
Date Sat Oct 19 21:07:45 2013
Writer: Dra'gan
Date Sat Oct 19 21:40:37 2013
Writer: Dra'gan
Date Sat Oct 19 22:00:23 2013
Writer: Madilyn
Date Sat Oct 19 22:45:39 2013
Writer: Dra'gan
Date Sat Oct 19 23:09:58 2013
Writer: Babda
Date Sun Oct 20 13:52:16 2013
To All Thaxanos Wargar Imm Drakkara
Subject The Descent (Part I)
Babda fumed as she followed the procession before her. They had been
walking these tunnels for hours and the further they walked the harder it
became for her to see. As near as she could tell they were deep underground
now, deeper than she had ever ventured before. The darkness around them was
thick and Babda felt a sudden panic as she stumbled about blindly.
"Easy child, " a voice murmured to her right, "We are nearly there. "
Was that her mother? Morraine Blackforge had a way of knowing what her
daughter was thinking at any given moment, but the way the sound echoed here
made it hard for Babda to be sure.
Babda pushed her fear aside and focused instead on her anger. Once she had
dreamed that this day would come, but this was -nothing- like her dreams had
been. Today, on the cusp of adulthood, she was to be presented to the
elders of her clan. She had imagined a celebration, like the ones she had
witnessed during her childhood in Althainia, not the dour ceremony she was
taking part in now.
She fingered the threadbare robe she had been dressed in earlier this
morning. It was perhaps better that she could barely see it, the drab grey
color was so unflattering. Bad enough she had been forced to wear these
rags, but to add insult to injury she had not been allowed jewelry on the
journey either. She flipped her hair in annoyance, even as her mother's
words resounded in her head.
"You must come to the elders humbly my daughter, " her mother had told her
earlier, in reply to her unspoken protests.
Afterwards she had been presented to the acolytes that served the elders,
all wearing the same horrible robes as she, but with hoods that obscured
their features. They sang prayers over her to the Mother of Magic and
anointed her with a fine powder made of pulverized gems. Afterwards, Babda
and her family had then been led underground, deep into the heart of the
world where the elders dwelled.
The procession's sudden halt brought her out of her thoughts as she noticed
how eerily silent it had become. She calmed her breathing as she reached
out with her senses to gather her bearings. They were in a large cavern and
she could hear the quiet rustling of robes as the acolytes ahead of her
moved around at a more leisurely pace. Babda took a few cautious steps
forward to get a better look, and discovered she was finally able to make
out shapes ahead of her. Perhaps her eyes were finally adjusting to this
damnable darkness.
As the acolytes began to chant she realized she was wrong. A soft glow was
slowly filling the area as the acolytes continued chanting. Ahead the
cavern sloped upward toward a raised stone dais that dominated the cavern
and the acolytes were making a path for her leading directly to it. Seated
there was an old dwarven hag, the oldest dwarf Babda had ever seen.
The elderly dwarf was wrapped in a dark and tattered robe that obscured most
of her body, but her head was plainly visible. The few wisps of hair
remaining on her head clung desperately to her scalp, and deep set wrinkles
covered her face. Most disconcerting of All were her eyes which seemed to
look everywhere and nowhere at once. They were a milky white with no
visible pupils at all. Babda shuddered as those sightless eyes seemed to
focus on her.
"We see you daughter of darkness, and welcome you in Her name. Come closer
and present yourself to us properly. "
Babda moved hesitantly forward. Was this one of the elders? Where were the
others? These thoughts and others raced through her brain and as she
fumbled for a reply.
"I-I am Babda Blackforge, " she began, cursing herself for stammering as she
began the ceremonial reply . "I have travelled through the darkness to seek
the wisdom of the elders. "
The ancient dwarf seemed to regard her for a long tense moment before she
spoke again.
Writer: Babda
Date Sun Oct 20 14:02:22 2013
To All Thaxanos Wargar Imm Drakkara
Subject The Descent (Part II)
"She has magic, but no training, " the elder spat. "What are we to do
with a half-trained girl? "
Babda's sharp retort was cut short as her mother suddenly stepped forward,
bowing low as she approached the elder.
"Forgive me elder, but she is the first in our family to show such potential
in generations. Surely you can teach her. "
I don't want her to teach me, Babda thought. The elder was old and senile.
What could she possibly have to teach?
The elder seemed to share the same sentiment as she regarded Babda's mother
coldly.
"Teach her? We will do no such thing. What will she learn here in the dark
Morraine Blackforge? The child shall not be trained by us. "
"Yes elder, " her mother replied meekly.
"She shall return to the mountain, " the elder finally declared. "She will
find a teacher among the Kexrar. "
And with that it was done. Babda was in shock as she and her family were
led away to re-trace their path through the darkness. Her father seemed to
think it was a great honor for her to return to Thaxanos and told stories of
the mountain kingdom during the journey home. Babda barely listened though
as only anger consumed her thoughts.
It was several days later when she was presented to the High King of
Thaxanos. High King Grumf was ancient even by dwarven standards, but wore
his age with dignity, something Babda could not say of the elder.
He looks as a king should, Babda thought to herself as she toured her new
home
Thaxanos was more than her father's stories had said, full of stone and
history. Despite her initial awe at seeing the city for the first time, her
thoughts returned to the family she left behind in Althainia and to the
elders who had refused to train her.
I will show them, she thought to herself. I will learn All there is to know
of magic and return to the elders as an equal.
As Babda found herself at last before the passageway that led to the
Undercity below Thaxanos, she felt hopeful . This path leads to the Kexrar,
and my destiny, she thought. I will find a teacher here, I know it.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Mon Oct 21 22:14:51 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (Part 9)
Ixi'kweez found the little gnome, sitting in his little chair in front of
his pavillion, enjoying his little bottle of beer, now that Mart-Town had
grown quiet for the night. Normally, he would have a number of schematics,
blueprints, and materials lists on his person, constantly keeping himself
apprised of every facet of the tower's progress. But work was done for the
day. Now, it was time to relax. Work would begin again soon enough.
"All done for the day, old friend?"
"Done for the day, boss. Finished the 8th floor this afternoon. We'll
start the next one in the morning. How about you? You execute your little
scheme?" The little gnome hopped out of his little chair and stretched.
"I'll leave you to figure that out on your own. You're not the only one
around here with surprises, you know." Ixi'kweez replied coyly. "Now.
What I -would- like to talk about, are these dwellings around us that are
inadequate. There are far too many Momoko's and Momiji's in this town, that
would have to suffer the winter if we do not do something. I'm planning on
dropping some lumber. A lot. Enough that everyone can live in an actual
cottage or apartment. I want you to dispatch a team into town to assist in
the building. You alright with that?"
The hardhat wearing gnome pondered the question seriously. "Yes, I don't
think that would set us back by more than a day or two. Houses go up fast.
And let's be honest. We would have to do this eventually anyway. Might as
well be now, before it's built up further."
"Excellent. One more thing. That field of wildflowers. I want that left
just as it is now. We'll call it 'Momiji's Field'. I suppose we'll have
all sorts of things to name around here soon." Ixi'kweez stopped, taking a
long look at the tower before him.
"You got it, boss. We'll leave it be."
"Good. Now, bring me one those tiny beers."
Writer: Kyri
Date Mon Oct 21 23:39:46 2013
Writer: Kyri
Date Mon Oct 21 23:39:54 2013
Writer: Dahakon
Date Tue Oct 22 17:55:41 2013
To All Verminasia Imm Religion RP Mencius
Subject First Visit to Iolanthe I
Dahakon plodded along the road, raising and lowering his body in tune
with the chestnut mare he rode. He was stripped of his many usual, gaudy
signs of office and instead wore a brown travelers cloak with dirty and worn
leather shoes. He passed the markings for the border of Iolanthe and
entered his newly given lands. The air seemed different to him here, almost
crisper then the city proper. Or perhaps it was merely his ego wishing it
so. The Bishop grinned to himself as he continued along. "The King has
finally realized the glory of the Kenseys. I have done this. I have risen
from a commoner to a highborn. I am a Voice of my God. I am powerful."
At once a barony guard in the livery of Iolanthe raised his hand and
dropping his ornamental spear to one side halting the unknown traveler.
"State your business upon barony soil, traveler"
"I am here to meet with the steward. My name is Daniel, son of Ryai. I
wish to seek a place among the staff."
The guard merely nodded, moving his spear back to his body. "Go on then.
You are expected."
Dahakon dipped his head low to the guard, moving forward towards the baron's
castle. He made his way to the gatehouse, tying off his horse in the nearby
stables. He walked up to the doors and announced himself again to the
guards there. The doors were opened and he was led upstairs by a house
servant to a small room. Inside laid an ornate desk on the fair wall with a
large chair behind in. There was a small wooden chair in front of the desk
that the servant motioned him to. A large, portly man hobbled in a time
later and sat behind the desk regarding the traveler with mild irritation.
"Daniel, is it? Welcome to Iolanthe. I have already spoken to the House
carl about a few open positions and I have found one you may serve in. You
will be placed on the serving staff of Iolanthe. Iolanthe is a Barony of
the Kingdom, as you know. Up until about a week ago we were under care of
the crown itself, unfortunately a new Baron has been named." The traveler
sat motionless, head dipped in servitude. "Let me make one thing clear
however. I am the Baron. While there may be another man that holds the
rank, I shall hold the respect. If you want a bite to eat, you ask me. If
you want to go to sleep, you ask me. If you want to go to the privy, YOU
ASK ME. Also. Out of each weeks pay I will be given twenty five percent
directly from you. You will pay this for me for I offer you protection.
Fifty percent will get you special privileges. Any questions?" The
traveler threw back his cloak and slammed his hands on the desk. Adorned
now upon his left hand was the signet of a Verminasian Baron that was
slipped on discreetly. The steward fell backwards in his chair, begging
pardon of the Baron. "Baron Kensey. I am sorry, I did not know it was you!
Your notice said not to expect your visit until later next week. I would've
thrown out an honor guard, set a meal..." Dahakon cut him off with a
single upraised hand.
"You will no longer do ANYTHING, Thomas, son of David. You were the crown's
steward of the barony, not the Baron! You shall pay dearly for treating
this as your given lands. As your own right. You are nothing compared to
me, NOTHING. Housecarl!" A short man ran into the room flank by two
guards and upon seeing the signet, that the traveler held out towards him,
snapped to attention. "Yes, Baron?
"Hear my judgment!" Pointing at Thomas, he said, "This man, by his own
words, has condemned himself. Thomas, Steward no longer, by your own words
you have confessed to your sins and for this you shall feel pain and
eventual death."
The portly man stiffened and said, "I demand the right to die at my own
hands!"
Writer: Dahakon
Date Tue Oct 22 18:06:54 2013
To All Verminasia Imm RP Religion Mencius
Subject First Visit to Iolanthe II
"You shall demand nothing!" Spat Dahakon. "You are no longer a
freeborn but you and All of your issue and line are hereby enslaved to the
Barony of Iolanthe. There will be no quick death. Thomas. For the next
three days All of your issue shall be forced to work upon the barony fields,
with no substance, All day and throughout the night. You shall All be
whipped hourly, tied to a post, until you can work no longer and fall to the
ground in your own shame. Then you All shall be placed in a cell to await
your coming death. You shall be beaten at every quarter hour while a guard
reads aloud this sentence again to you all, so that you may have no rest.
Then at dawn you and your family will be taken to the far border of Iolanthe
and place cuts upon your feet. A battalion of guards will whip All of you
throughout the land and into the streets of the city. Should you fall along
the way; the guards will apply hot coals to you until you rise again. In
the middle of the square you will be hung up in cages so that All can see.
Even the lowest of born will be permitted to whip any of his choosing as he
wishes with sticks of bamboo. When you All are near death from exposure you
shall be taken from the cage and revived with water bitter from vinegar and
bread covered in salt. Then you shall be whipped to the edge of our borders
and executed on the shore of Iolanthe in front of your wife and your
children's mother. Your wife will then be sent as a slave of mine until I
have no use of her and I will sell her to another. So it is said. So it is
written. Guards, be gone this man from my sight."
The Housecarl merely stared forward, dropping his quill and parchment upon
the ground as the guards drug the begging and whimpering man from the room.
Dahakon circled the desk, sitting upon the large chair. "I think I will
enjoy being a Baron. Sit with me dear Housecarl and we shall go over
current and new business."
Writer: Dahakon
Date Tue Oct 22 18:15:17 2013
Writer: Dahakon
Date Tue Oct 22 18:15:28 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Oct 23 19:38:48 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Knighthood Arkane Nordmaar imm Scorn Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Mart-Town" (EpiLog)
"Mummy, I'm done my bweakfast. Can we go out now?" The little
raven-haired girl asked sweetly, stepping out onto the platform, where her
mother was picking fresh herbs.
"Yes, Mo, you two have a nice time. Be sure to be home in time for lunch."
Momoko was relieved to see her daughter feeling truly happy once again.
"We will, Mummy. Oh! I fowgot. Here! Mistaw Ixi'kweez gave this to me
yestawday morning. Come on, Squeezums!"
"Squeezums!" With that, the red panda stepped out onto the platform and to
Momiji's side. Momoko watched the two scamper off through town and towards
her field as they now did together every morning. Once they had left her
view, Momoko quietly opened the little sack Momiji had given her. She gazed
upon the brilliant blue diamond nestled inside, and promptly fainted.
==============================
Squeezums watched Momiji intently, as she picked sang and picked wildflowers
for the residents and guests of Mart-Town. The little red panda enjoyed
their twice-daily ritual trek to the field just outside of town. She was
almost always by Momiji's side, and the panda loved the attention the two
garnered in town.
"Though the autumnal winds, are bwow-ing, and our wove, has been went in
twain!"
Squeezums did not ever sense the sadness and heartbreak Momiji had felt
before when she would sing this song. There were no longer tears. Little
Momiji was finally overcoming her grief, in large part because of Squeezums.
Completely ignorant of her contributions, the little red panda was happy
just to be around the little raven-haired girl.
"When the weaves return, to the maple twees, that is when, I will see you
a-gain!"
The panda had no idea of what Momiji was singing, but absolutely loved the
sound of her voice. Her song concluded, Squeezums reared up on her hind
legs and clapped, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth.
Momiji took a moment to gaze up to the sky, thinking about her father.
"I love you, Daddy. I'll be back again soon."
The little girl gathered up her bundle of wildflowers, and turned her gaze
towards town. "Come on, Squeezums! Let's go!"
"Squeezums!" The panda rose to its feet and trotted to Momiji's side.
Writer: Dra'gan
Date Wed Oct 23 22:13:03 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Oct 24 00:53:07 2013
To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Althainia Nordmaar Arkane imm Scorn Nazca Zandreya Austinian
Subject Raising The Tower "Dented Steel Neckguard Boulevard"
The members of the Board fiddled with their papers and bantered quietly
amongst themselves, awaiting the beginning of the meeting. Despite the
excitement of the tower, there was still business to attend to.
"It's not like him to be late, you know." Olliwac said quietly to noone in
particular. "Maybe he got caught up in tower stuff."
BOOM!!
The doors flew open loudly as the hardhat wearing gnome stormed in, dragging
a large sack behind him. It was evident from the look on his face, that he
was in a foul humor. He made a beeline for his chair, and climbed into it.
Then heaved the sack on to the boardroom table. Hoisting himself onto the
table, walked over to Olliwac, dragging the sack behind him. He glared at
Olliwac angrily, saying nothing. The kender shrunk back in his seat
slightly.
"Something on your mind, Thimtax?" Ixi'kweez said from his place at the
head of the table. He was intrigued. He couldn't recall the two ever being
at odds before. And they had both worked for Ixi-Mart for a very long time.
"Why yes, Chairman. As a matter of fact, there is." Thimtax seethed. "It
seems Olliwac here, took it upon himself to go ahead and name every street
in Mart-Town!" Olliwac smiled sheepishly, as Ixi'kweez's gaze slowly
panned over to him.
The Chairman chose his words carefully. "Alright. And, I suppose you're
not alright with that?" Clearly, Ixi was amused, though he fought hard to
hide that fact from the room.
Thimtax wheeled to face the Chairman. "Oh. I'm not alright with it. On
-so- many levels! Allow me to elaborate!" The angry gnome pulled a very
long sign painted in clashing colors from the sack, reading 'FINELY CRAFTED
MITHRIL BRACER AVENUE'. He dropped the sign in front of Ixi'kweez and
grabbed another from the sack, reading 'SWORD OF A FORGOTTEN KING LANE', and
a third, reading 'GOLD LION'S HEAD GIRTH TERRACE'. He dropped these on top
of the first one in disgust.
Ixi'kweez casually looked upon the horridly painted signs being dropped
before him. Or at least, he tried to. It didn't take long for the comedic
value of the situation to overcome the Chairman, who started laughing. He
promptly ceased when he realized Thimtax was giving him the same glare he
was previously levelling at the kender. Once Ixi was able to maintain a
straight face, he spoke once again.
"Well, I can see why these signs would bother y-"
"Oh! Hold on, it gets better!" The little gnome interrupted. He pulled
out two more signs, reading 'UNHOLY ROBES WAY', and 'LOIN CLOTH ROAD'.
"These names are ludicrous! They're almost All too long, making future
paperwork a nightmare. They're painted garishly, and they're -everywhere-
in town!"
"What! I like the names! They're named after our products!" Olliwac
finally speaking up for himself.
Thimtax shot the kender another glare, bringing Olliwac's short lived
self-defense to an end. "Who in the blue hell is going to want to raise
their children, on the corner of Unholy Robes Way, and Loin Cloth Road?!"
"But you and Ixi get the whole tower just the way you want it! I don't get
to name -anything-?"
Ixi'kweez leaned back and pondered the situation quietly. If he was going
to avoid bursting out in laughter again, the Chairman would have to come up
with a fair compromise, and fast.
"Alright. I've heard enough, and I've decided. Olliwac. You get to keep
-ONE- street name. What's it gonna be?"
"Awwww, one!?" The kender whined. "Fine. Dented Steel Neckguard
Boulevard it is!"
"Excellent! I hereby call this meeting to order!"
Writer: Rikam
Date Thu Oct 24 17:24:52 2013
Writer: Rikam
Date Thu Oct 24 17:26:56 2013
Writer: Marcaus
Date Sun Oct 27 01:11:38 2013
To All imm verminasia chaos
Subject .. The Price .. (1/2)
That was the first time he had heard it, a soft and effortless ringing of
stone on steel. It hummed like the mournful lament of a mountains agony.
The blacksmith was not a large man, but as expertly polished in form as the
craft of his epithet. He handled the beard of the blade with deft skill,
expertly avoiding the raining fire that leapt from the teeth of the
grindstone. With each pass of the blades face, a shining glint of light
flickered out of the dark den of the makeshift workshop and across the
keyhole of a simple entryway.
Through the keyhole, an eager eye drank in the familiar scene of meager life
that the passers by carved out from the surrounding city. Its' wandering
focus shifted from creature to man and back, each traveling about in their
daily tasks. The pounding heart of the onlooker kept time with the clopping
and clapping hooves of the cart drivers great draught horses. Heavy with
bushels of barleycorn and barrels of potent beers to and from the breweries,
he ached at the thought of sharing the burdensome cargo of the workers
trudge. A welcome reprieve from the deepening fear that consumed him, he
scanned the faces of the street longingly.
Far in the corner of view stood the ominous shadow of the gallows. The
monument of finality darkened the stones of the square like the specter of
death that would soon darken his days and the lives of those who would stand
beneath it. His hands, raised close to his face, cupped the cool iron plate
of the handle, his wrists gently on the rough-cut boards of the large door.
His palms were slick with perspiration or tears, he knew not which, and
trembled with each warm breath that steamed around them in the cool air of
the entryway. His concentration remained fixed through the lock and onto
the streets before it was broken by the loud cry of the city-guards.
"Hail, King Marcaus, long live the King." A familiar praise that had once
stirred his curiosity and eager excitement, now drew pangs of pain and
despair that ate at his belly like a hunger. An echoing of muffled calls
shook the supporting rafters of the archway above him and cascades of dust
fell like snowfall down onto his damp cheeks. A chattering of teeth marched
with the drumroll of the procession as it traveled down the way. The view
of the passing was too much, too soon, and he clenched his eyes shut for a
brief moment, only to swiftly open them again. Heavy footfalls of steps
drawing closer, he knew the time was near and clung to the view with a
fervent determination to steal what was soon to be denied him.
Murmurs and whispers grew into sobbing and wails from the room behind him,
as the Kings parade came to a halt. He could hear the words spoken by soft
the voices, their All too familiar sighs like piercing needles in his ears.
Mute instructions and deaf commands rattled about around him, hauntingly.
The singing of the stone had stopped, only to be replaced by a dull crack of
the toe of the axe being drawn from the block. An eerie quiet surrounded
him as the mournful cries traveled deeper into the dwelling away and out the
rear exit.
(...)
Writer: Marcaus
Date Sun Oct 27 01:17:52 2013
To All Imm Verminasia Derigimus Chaos
Subject .. The Price .. (2/2)
The crowded streets had now come alive behind the processional and
blocked out his iron glimpse of the occasion. He rose from his seated
position and grasped clumsily for the iron latch just out of reach. Alone
now, his zeal undaunted, he reached out for a large wooden stump and
struggled it into position against the doorway. He climbed the oaken tower
until he could balance two feet on the smoothed ringed calendar of the
stools wooden seat. He raised the hammered shield of the doors' peephole
and peered threw the tooled lattice and across sea of faces.
Their was only one face he was seeking now and as the scene grew into a
frenzy, it struck him like a thunder. The crowd grew silent as a well
dressed judge shouted red-faced in anger and pointed out at the audience.
Joined on the scaffolding with the red garbed justice, a familiar form
donned a char-blackened cloth. The shrouded man raised his sharpened blade
and carried it from corner to corner of the platform to the applause of the
populace. The party grew larger still with the addition of a huddled form,
dragged up the steps by a robe around its shoulders. A barrage of debris
hailed down upon him as he was shifted into position beneath the creeping
vine of the man made tree.
The stool shifted beneath him as he pressed his form against the door and
gripped it tightly, a poor makeshift shield for himself from the coming
agony. The crowd barked and cheered noisily, as the noose was lowered
around the head of the withered condemned. He began to weep uncontrollably
at the sound of the twisted line of the taut rope becoming firmly seated
around the throat. The crowd, their fists lifted, taunted the prisoner with
jeers, as he was raised and lowered again and again. The judge spoke out
once more, offering amnesty to the unconscious victim of the ten looped
knot. Hollow words, All knew, but the condemner searched the face of the
man for signs of life.
Repentance unclaimed, the black garbed man drew the kicking form skyward
again. Gasping desperately and and shaking at the door, he struggled at a
vain attempt to feed air into the mans chest for one last breath from so far
away. A loud "thud" could be heard echoing when the rope was released and
the victims body fell firmly onto the base of the structure. The judge
knelt down and yielded for All to offer attention to the King, himself
astride a large black equine. "Chaos will find no respite nor home in
Verminasia." He shouted in a harsh voice and motioned swiftly with a
falling hand.
These final moments burned like fire on his flesh against the door, as he
saw the two lectors of death prepare their maniacal mechanism to sate its
thirst for blood. The eerie sound of the machine creaking and chattering as
it was ratcheted into place wrestled his resolve from him. The body of the
man was dragged into position face up and his was shirt torn away to reveal
the nape of his neck. The time was now and the blade of the guillotine was
raised high.
A shining beam of light poured through the woven grid and onto his face
again, reflected from the sharpened hand of the blacksmiths work. The
crowed mass fell silent as the manicured metal began then to fall. A sharp
stirring of fear inside him could no longer be kept at bay as his grip
slipped from the door and began to fall away. A loud crash, a crushing
headache, and All he had seen, overwhelmed the moment and he screamed out
longing words with All the small breath within his tiny young form, "NO,
PAPA!"
Writer: Salainn
Date Tue Oct 29 20:08:27 2013
To Marcaus Verminasia Kender All ( Immortal Storyline )
Subject The Purging of Verminasia
Dawn was breaking.
A diminutive figure tumbled into a ditch, his garish-colored clothes soiled
with mud and muck. His topknot was undone, his messy hair a gritty curtain
that fell into his eyes. With a childlike hand he peeled it away, looking
up at the steel grey sky as he caught his breath. Fear was alien to kender,
but something about the excitement of the previous few nights had been less
fun and more serious. Such things were not unknown to his kind, certainly,
but the awful things that had been happening across the Verminasian
countryside... It was definitely a Bad Thing, something that needed to be
told to others, a warning to be sent.
Two Days Previous
It started quietly. The hushed murmur of trained men creeping along
cobblestone. The den was a cramped one, riddled with boltholes in the
foundation of one of the slum-shanties of the capital of Verinasia. There
was the dull rasp of metal, furtive exchanges of glances, and then a final
nod. Wood splintered, and a half-dozen kender bolted awake, beginning to
scurry in any direction. The confusion was immediate, and Clotho barely had
time to borrow a knife from Septa's bedroll before an axe fell where his
hand was a moment before, splitting the cloth in twain. A tall man stooped
in the tiny den, while another two covered obvious exits. Three of Clotho's
friends, including poor Septa, were cut down in the first few seconds, while
a fourth managed to get halfway out one of the broken windows before he
glanced up, seeing the armed patrol that awaited him. There was a screech
and another dull thud, and the kender's legs fell back through.
Clotho dove behind one of the garish, bedraggled curtains and stood there,
willing himself invisible as the grim work was carried out. Five kender
died in the work of minutes, and the executioners mulled about for a few
minutes more before heavy bootfalls presaged the arrival of another. The
Knight, for there was nothing else he could be in Clotho's eyes, looked
about the mess that was made of the kenderhome, a keep, grim gaze that
seemed to take in everything at a moment's glance. Hushed words were
exchanged, and Clotho stood on tiptoes and peeked around the corner of the
curtain for a better look before freezing. The Knight had looked directly
at him. There was a terse moment, a tightening around the man's eyes, and
then he looked away. Heart hammering with exhilaration, Clotho tucked his
head back behind the curtain and closed his eyes. He'd gotten lucky enough
for one night.
The Night Before
Clotho's escape was not particularly daring, nor exciting. After taking the
corpses of the slaughtered kender with them, the men left with only a little
bit of grumbling and thick sacks filled with the dead. He slipped from
shadow to shadow, leaving the Verminasian capitol through one of the many
boltholes, weaknesses in the walls below ground. He made west, at first,
but found only ruins where kenderhomes he had visited once stood. Burned
out remains of shanties and the strung up corpses of their inhabitants. The
carrion bird had not yet arrived, perhaps to do with the coming winder, but
there hadn't been much time to give them a proper burial. Venturing back
north yielded similar results, and when he found himself facing east, he ran
into another small gaggle of kenderfolk who looked pale and bedraggled as
he. After a quick swapping of items by way of greeting, the Bad Thing
became apparent.
Verminasia had started purging kender.
Another few words were had, and with a wave the kender All parted,
meandering southward as they checked up on other homes. Clotho didn't know
what was to come, but he knew where he had to go after he had looked in on
his friends- the last haven of the kenderfolk on the continent.
Arkane.
Writer: Salainn
Date Tue Oct 29 20:57:52 2013
To Marcaus Verminasia All ( Immortal Storyline )
Subject Musings
A lone man rode on horseback along the main road of southern Verminasia.
On the horizon, lights glimmered as the capitol of the Dark Kingdom began to
stir, dawn approaching and spreading shafts of pale light through slate
clouds. Armor clanked with the easy pace of the infernal steed, the
tireless beast cantering a well-familiar path, treading old ways long-since
burned into its malevolently-intelligent mind. Salainn Illithi mused in
silence, his thoughts as heavy as the mail that weighed upon his body.
The purge had, for All intents and purposes, been a success. A hundred men
had set out days previous, led by the Lord on a dark errand. Packs of the
wretched beasts had been killed in their homes, the strikes coming almost
simultaneously as to keep them off-guard. Verminasia's pest problem had not
been eradicated, but an important message had been sent.
Kender were unwelcome in Verminasia, wherever they lurked.
Some of the wretches had, of course, been spared, as per his orders. They
fled and roamed the countryside, hounded by the rearguard sent to clean up
after the decisive first strike that he had led. Like sheep before the
hound they scurried southward, toward the only haven they knew.
It was not long before they reached the border, and as Salainn tugged on the
reins of his steed, drawing it down a narrow road toward the Illithi Manor,
he allowed himself the luxury of a grim smile. He would not be lauded for
his actions, or even acknowledged for the bloody deed, but in the seeds he
had sown bore the potential for the fruit of conquest he had longed for.
The first step was taken toward a revitalized Aversia ascendant, and he had
been honored with the first strike.
Writer: Claudette
Date Wed Oct 30 03:08:20 2013
To All verminasia
Subject A Visit to Camaraenaus (Part I)
If there was one thing that the newly-minted Baroness was certain of, it
was one thing: smallclothes itched. Normally, a thin chemise was enough to
suit the woman, but the shop mistress had insisted that it was hardly
befitting a noble woman to trapse about like a peasant, and reluctantly
Claudette had agreed. She couldn't bring herself to pay the price for silk,
and so it was linen that she wore underneath her fancy new gown, bulky and
hot and above all... Itchy.
The Baroness squirmed where she stood. She wiggled and shifted about like a
child that was wearing hose for the first time. She WAS wearing hose for
the first time. Hose, and a heavy, fancy dress, and those damn
smallclothes. And shoes. There was nothing about any of this that was
familiar or comfortable.
They were staring, and Claudette was minorly annoyed. Earlier, one of the
swabbies had taken it upon himself to snigger in her presence, and the woman
had boxed him alongside one of his ears. She didn't really mind the
laughter, but she wanted to keep up appearances in front of the small
entourage that had gathered to take her to the manor in southern
Camaraenaus. The group had met with the Baroness after a trek down the
river that divided her province from the lands of Iolanthe. Standing along
the muddy riverbanks, Claudette was almost painfully aware of the dismal
landscape that stretched before her, with its soggy brown wetness and fields
of tree stumps. To the north, across the river, the lands appeared lush and
green.
The steward was a young man, perhaps seventeen years of age, with a face
that was full of a rather severe case of acne. His name was Jaime Anselm,
and he had inherited the position of steward from his father who had died of
ill vapors in recent months. Secretly, Claudette was appreciative of this
fact - neither one of them knew what they were doing, and even though the
steward was a boy a year younger than her own son, she enjoyed his timidity
and inexperience and believed that he could be easily manipulated.
Ashbie was flirting with the poor thing. The Baroness's daughter had
accompanied her on her journey to the northeastern province, and Claudette
had been surprised when the girl had asked to come along. She looked lovely
in the new gown that had been purchased just for this trip, and the woman
felt a measure of pride as she watched her daughter use her wiles. She was
glad that she had inherited her father's looks. Claudette was certain that
she would get far in life, if the girl used every advantage that she had so
randomly wound up with, praise the God of Chance and Trickery. Young Jaime,
for his part, had the good graces to keep his mouth closed and his eyes away
from Ashbie's plunging neckline. His attention was another matter.
Claudette snapped her finger's in front of the boy's face. "Now, then,
Jaime... If you are quite done bloody oggling my daughter, do we got say, a
carriage, to ride to the manor All proper-like? "
The boy's pock-marked face flushed a brilliant red and he nearly squeaked as
he spoke up. "I... Er... No, Baroness. We, er... Walked. "
"Bloody hell. In this mud, and these damn expensive shoes? Not on my
bloody watch, right? "
The Baroness took off the silken embroidered slippers before descending from
the wooden blank, and stepped off of it barefoot. Mud squished between her
toes. The hem of her expensive cloak and gown drug messily across the wet
earth.
She had a long walk ahead of her, and much to see.
Writer: Ashbie
Date Wed Oct 30 12:29:46 2013
To All verminasia
Subject A Visit to Camaraenaus (Part I)
The air out in in Camaraenaus was different than in the city of Verminasia,
the smells of the countryside permeated the air here. Sure, the salty ocean
was more her style, but the country air was still free and spirited--
something that was deeply alluring to the girl.
No. She was a woman now.
A young woman, true, but a woman nonetheless. Ashbie adjusted some of her
honey-blonde hair, a trait she and her twin brother shared that set them
apart from their mother and father. Of course, where Randal was a bit
shorter, Ashbie stood at the height of her parents, which made her quite
tall for a woman. She stood just an inch or so beneath her mother, which
meant that in her short wedge heel, she stood just as tall.
However, Camaraenaus was not so blessed to be as well-built. The dock
they'd landed on was nearly ready to give through. It certainly hadn't been
pleased to bear their weight, and neither Claudette nor Ashbie were really
very heavy at all. Ashbie looked over at her mother. Wearing the dress
that they'd picked out together, Claudette looked every bit as
uncomfortable as she must have felt. Ashbie stifled a giggle and looked
around. She wasn't much one for gowns herself, except on special occasions
and this was one, sort of. She felt pretty enough, and that made it all
worth it.
Their greeting party was about as small and shabby as their land appeared
to be. There was a tall, middle-aged gentleman, well, gentleman certainly
wasn't the right word, but he was tall and broadly built and he was
standing there. Beside him was a dark-haired woman that was probably his
wife. There was an elderly couple as well, both of them having somehow
survived not only the tribulations of Algoron but this backwoods hole as
well. Leading the party, however, was a lad who seemed Ashbie's age and had
the most horrid case of acne she'd seen in some time.
He was tall, lanky, ungainly some might say, with willowy limbs and a lean
build that was not suited to a life of hard labor. The boy's teth were
crooked, his face lean and his nose hooked. He had sharp blue eyes, but,
at the moment he looked more nervous than anything. Somehow he managed to
speak without stuttering, "Afternoon, I am Jaimie Anselm, at your service."
Anselm. Anselm... why did that seem important? Oh right, she and her mother
had been talking about the Anselms during the sail down the river, "Oi,
an' where's Roger Anselm then?" Ashbie asked, stepping closer to the young
man, giving him a look.
Clearly Jaimie's introduction was well-scripted, left to his own devices
his inexperience and timidness shown through like a glaring beacon, "I-
erm, well, I'm 'fraid he is no longer with us, milady. Took ill a couple
weeks past and never recovered."
Ashbie glanced at her mother, who appeared disinterested. Damn the woman,
she already knew. It was just like her to play such a cruel trick. Two
could play at that game. "Ooooh, you poor thing, he was your Pa?" Ashbie
affected a sweet, doting tone as she swished forward in the full skirts of
her gown and took the shocked young man in her arms. For his part, Jaimie
took it well enough, a look of shock written plain across his pock-marked
features, but he remained unmoving.
Claudette snapped her finger's in front of the boy's face. "Now, then,
Jaime... If you are quite done bloody oggling my daughter, do we got say, a
carriage, to ride to the manor All proper-like?"
Giggling and winking at her mother, Ashbie took her turn to look around at
her parents' land. They could worry about the details and finer points--like
carriages. Ashbie might be a young woman, but she was still a girl at heart
and the thing that girls loved to do best was dream. The land might not
have been much of a dream, but it could become one. She would dream.
Writer: Airedhiel
Date Wed Oct 30 12:37:18 2013
Writer: Airedhiel
Date Wed Oct 30 12:52:53 2013
Writer: Airedhiel
Date Wed Oct 30 15:40:24 2013
Writer: Rikam
Date Wed Oct 30 15:47:13 2013
Writer: Rikam
Date Wed Oct 30 15:50:54 2013
Writer: Rikam
Date Wed Oct 30 15:57:17 2013
Writer: Stugl
Date Wed Oct 30 22:24:24 2013
To All Marauders Thrazgash Vyrhakun ( Imm Scorn Ehl'din Arkane KWARS )
Subject Crimson Tides
The boards beneath his feet moaned as the deck pitched back and forth,
while the talons of the deep abyss below them clawed at the imposing
warship's hull. Overhead, a near perfect ebony moon ruled the dark
cloudless night's sky, as shadows waxed and waned over the crew above deck.
The call came down from the heavens, like a screeching banshee, "CONTACT!
STARBOARD SIDE ADMIRAL!" Grabbing hold of the unembellished spy piece
resting in his pocket, the half-breed raised it to eye level and peered
through. There, on the horizon and backlit by the moonlight, he could make
out the shape of a single, solitary vessel. The crows feet, that had taken
up residence around his eyes, appeared, as he strained for the lone detail
he was hoping to catch a glimpse of. The ends of his mouth curled
themselves into a nearly imperceptible sneer, as his eyes narrowed in on the
top of the main mast. There, perched atop the mast, flapping fervently in
the winds of the Arsataw Yaa was the blue and gold banderole of the RAN.
Collapsing the spy piece and returning it to it's safe haven, he glanced
over his shoulder at the Yinnae whom had been watching him silently from his
post at the wheel. "Run hur down, Kaptun." Came the order from the grisly
half-breed and with a slight nod, the Yinnae responded with an, "Aye Aye,
Admiral. With Pleasure."
Writer: Ryael
Date Wed Oct 30 23:41:35 2013
Writer: Brunster
Date Wed Nov 6 10:51:04 2013
Writer: Ellminaidra
Date Wed Nov 6 14:54:12 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Thu Nov 7 22:01:27 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Thu Nov 7 22:06:10 2013
Writer: Salainn
Date Sat Nov 9 04:43:37 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Sat Nov 9 12:36:45 2013
Writer: Dxutim
Date Sat Nov 9 12:54:54 2013
To All Conclave Atlantos Imm Drakkara (RP)
Subject The Blue Statue
Basking in the blue glow of the strange statue atop his Towers, Dxutim
stood with arms folded pondering the sight in front of him. He wondered how
the blue mages struck again while he was in meditation, and wondered if they
were avoiding him. The sight before him that he was used to was the magical
artifact that resides in the Shrine of Magic at the top of the Towers.
Instead, he was met with the sight of a statue that was replacing the
artifact. The statue was of a blue mage, almost smirking at the Master.
Dxutim stood defiantly in front of the object after hearing the reports it
was casting fireballs at his Magi of black. He continued to stand there
waiting for the owners of the statue to return, concealed by his magic and
wrapped in his own anger toward what he regarded as blue parlor trick
thieves who stole from his institution.
Waiting....
Writer: Sielei
Date Sun Nov 10 22:31:37 2013
To All ( drakkara religion immortal )
Subject The Bridge & Fall Trick
Practice makes perfect. Or at least it lets you know the dangers.
Sielei had jumped off the bridge in the City of Vermin many times. From a
jump, a run, from the shoulders of a giant ogre. Over and over, again, to
make the trick perfect.
The first time she used the Lady's flying magic to slow her fall. But this
was boring. And it didn't hurt at all. So she fell. And she broke bones,
cut her skin. That was easy to fix with the healing magic the Lady gave.
The trick was falling out of control but not dying. Magic doesn't help much
with death. At least not the spells Sielei had learned yet.
So after the other priest had teased jumping for a while, Sielei decided it
was time to perform the trick. She was told she needed more drama, more
presentation to her 'parlor' tricks. But really, All she needed was
surprise.
So she just jumped.
After a few minutes, she crawled up the bridge - broken and scared. But alive.
Just as she planned.
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Sun Nov 10 23:33:37 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Sun Nov 10 23:35:35 2013
Writer: Veleris
Date Mon Nov 11 04:52:05 2013
Writer: Gannick
Date Mon Nov 11 14:32:39 2013
To Braedan Setaru Charyal Malachive All Imm ( RP ) Raije
Subject Severing the Chains, Part I.
Gannick rested within the confines of the Ashbrook cottage. Training had
been easy, though tiresome. Hacking through a swath of enemies did not
require much effort, however doing so while constantly being aware of the
surroundings added to the fatigue. As one who walks alone, he was hunted by
those from All walks of life. He had only his family to watch his back. He
reflected upon this as he sat, weary from the battles of the day. As he
reflected, he saw the tireless battle that raged on between the clans, those
who fall and return to fall again. And endless struggle in the name of a
deity who pays them no mind. This is what brought him to this point, this
point of breaking. No longer would he swear fealty for a god who's agenda
moves nowhere. Each god flailing endlessly without any form of traction to
push it forward.
As he leaned back into his bed, difficulties reaching the state of sleep
found him. His mind raced like a pixie on a sugar high, and he could not
settle down and relax. Tossing and turning in his bed, the light flickered
over a stack of tomes next to his bed, left there by his brother, Vycktor.
Kicking himself out of the bed he walked over to the tomes, his bare feet
padding across the cold wooden floors which creaked beneath his weight. As
he picked up one of the tomes, he ran his hand across the cover and
bindings, tracing the words as he read them to himself.
The Book of Blood, by Erebaal Phaeron"
Writer: Veleris
Date Tue Nov 12 02:36:03 2013
Writer: Symantha
Date Tue Nov 12 03:39:55 2013
To Shadow ( Necrucifer RP ) All
Subject Through the Rain
The footfalls were sure and steady, even amongst the deluge.
Breath escaped as mist into the chilly downpour and if not for the weak
lantern lights along the wide street, the cloaked figure might have gone
entirely unnoticed.
But fate drew a different card.
The sun would have been hovering on the horizon had the clouds not
descended, had the shadows of night not converged early. Beneath the black
cloak, pale skin denoted a female presence that moved without concern for
the cold rain, the muddied puddles or the shadow that followed with ill
intent.
Her purposeful stride would have declared to anyone that she was headed
somewhere specific, an eastern direction, though the hour was dangerous for
such a venture.
Abruptly the edge of the city appeared, spanning out into a wide stretch of
empty land but a path continued east and the forest arose as if sprung of
the darkness itself. She did not stop, did not hesitate, and as she stepped
into the forest she welcomed the darkness with open arms.
The rush of cold that swept out from her upon an exhale might have been more
than enough warning to anyone else, but the shadow persisted.
Persisted and reached out for her, even upon the steps of the black archway
that yawned like a portal into the Abyss.
"You would dare." She breathed and there was an echo of the power she had
drawn unto herself in her voice. "Here?"
"You must die." A fanatic; a creature that lived only for the twisted lies
it had been bred and fashioned to believe.
She turned to look into the man's face. Blue eyes, a sunburst upon his
brow, a zealous fever in him. She had expected the multi-pointed star, this
was something else..
"Spawn of the dark one!" And the dagger came up, hidden as it had been
within his cloak. "Nadrik must live..!"
Metal met metal with a sharp, screeching grind as the cross-guard of her
sheathed blade - lifted from her side in preparation - stopped the upward
blow that might have impaled the heart of some lesser prepared being.
Her hand reached out then, deceptively gentle, and settled over his brow.
Cold steel gray eyes met wide blue.
"Unto Necrucifer, I commit your soul. Know the folly of your actions, child
of weakness." Her voice intoned, devoid of All but devotion.
Unholy flame enveloped her hand, flickering with shadow. The blue eyes
turned wide, mouth opened in a soundless scream, and then All such light as
they had once harbored was snuffed out. The dagger fell to the ground with
a clatter and was followed by the heavy thud of the would-be assassin's
body.
She slid the sword she had half-drawn back into its sheath quietly while she
gazed upon the fool and the unusual blade that now lay on the steps of the
church - both adorned with matching sunbursts.
She couldn't be certain if this was connected to the rising tension she felt
within, that resonated through the Keep as if someone had plucked a single
harp string, but the encounter deserved notation. Perhaps the tension was
more widespread.
Something was coming.
She looked out into the rain that poured on, undeterred by the interaction
that had just played out and felt a tingle of unease thread through her
before she turned around to disappear within the shadows of the altar.
Writer: Vespera
Date Tue Nov 12 13:11:32 2013
Writer: Tsion
Date Tue Nov 12 21:51:34 2013
Writer: Lillian
Date Tue Nov 12 22:29:31 2013
Writer: Fardoc
Date Wed Nov 13 00:08:00 2013
To All ( Religion Imm RP Nadrik )
Subject The Endless Hunt
Fardoc grits his teeth as the howling wind chills him to the bone, yet he
trudges on through the snow. His beady eyes dart to and fro, constantly
vigilant of anything unusual in the trail. The dwarf bundles himself
tighter in his robes, and readjusts his satchel of scrolls on his back,
fierce determination evident in his every step.
By th gods of light an goodness, ah swear tha ah will find ah Shard! He
says vehemently under his breath.
The priest had been searching for months to no avail. Not a single clue had
made itself known, but he retained hope for a miracle. He had searched the
mountains of Icewall, the forests of Althainia and Arkane, and the jungles
of Tropica, always hoping.
Sometimes he had help, like the trip the red wizardess, Ashlen accompanied
him on. Others, he walked the lands alone, eyes peeled for unusual
developments. On all, his search was fruitless, and at times, like the
present moment, the dwarf grew discouraged.
Lord Nadrik, please, ah beg ye tae give mae ah sign of where ah should search. Mae weariness bae settin in, an while ahll never give up in mae quest, et bae difficult not tae lose heart. he prayed.
The wind begins to blow more fiercely, and Fardocs teeth begin to chatter.
If ah wos gonna wander into Frostania, ah shouldve brought ah bit warmer
clothes.. He chuckles to himself. Finding a cave in the Icewall
mountains, he settles in, taking shelter from the biting wind. He builds
himself a fire, basking in its warmth as he takes a closer look at his
surroundings. Nondescript as it is, Fardoc examines the walls, thinking
that anywhere could perhaps contain a clue to his quest. He runs his finger
through the dirt on the ground, not even sure what he is looking for, but
anxious to find it.
Finding nothing, and sufficiently warm from the fire, Fardoc emerges from
the cave, brushes the dirt off his robes and draws them tightly around
himself, and resumes his endless trudge across the realm.
Writer: Kuromaru
Date Wed Nov 13 01:22:31 2013
To Knighthood Kiery Aethan Sorien All ( Imm RP Austinian )
Subject --+Reflecting on Sorien Kilcannon+--
Kuromaru was sitting at his desk, thumbing through the book he had asked
Sorien to write. While he did so, he was thinking back on his relationship
with Sorien.
Kuromaru had always known a bit about Sorien. He was a swashbuckler at the
time Kuromaru was a young man and entering Gareth keep. Their differing
opinions on Firstborn and other divine beings had always made them foes.
Despite their faiths being rooted in Austinian, they fought. As Kuromaru
grew a little older and changed from a crusader to the priest he is today,
so did Sorien change from the swashbuckler he was to the dragonslayer he is
now.
It was after those changes that Kuromaru began to take some notice of him.
Sorien had spoken with Kuromaru albeit rather cryptically at times about
possibly finding redemption in the eyes of Gareth. Thouogh Kuromaru didn't
know exactly what this meant.
Sometime later, Sorien had found his way to Arkane in order to help them
with the Kingdom games. More or less a mercenary for hire, it would seem.
His main intention was to help destroy whichever dragon was placed in the
pit match, and he was never shy about it. But, while in Arkane Sorien would
begin to ask Kuromaru more about Austinian, asking Kuromaru if Austinian was
displeased with him. Kuromaru could not speak for Austinian, not directly
anyway so he was unsure what to answer. Sorien stated that Austinian
approved the slaying of dragons, because he had never been shunned for it.
Kuromaru had explained though that while Austinian does not approve of
dragonslaying, he does allow His faithful to make their own decisions. This
concept seemed to perplex Sorien.
When Kuromaru hit the end of the book, his concentration seemed to waver and
he got up from his desk.
Writer: Jandal
Date Wed Nov 13 13:00:24 2013
Writer: Jandal
Date Wed Nov 13 13:48:50 2013
Writer: Tsion
Date Thu Nov 14 04:59:39 2013
Writer: Veleris
Date Fri Nov 15 06:14:21 2013
To All IMM RP Blue Mage
Subject A Testing Of Magic
Veleris tapped her fingernail against her front teeth as she thought.
She sat on a stump infront of her gnarth, worried about the consequences of
her test.
"Are you sure this is ok?" She asked the gnarth in concern. With a quick
toss of its head, the gnarth ground its feet into the ground in
anticipation.
Veleris stood slowly and moved to the gnarth putting a scarred hand on its
head. "I will make this as painless as I can," she whispers into the
gnarths ear as she starts moving her hands around it, gathering her magic.
The words to the spell of the absorption aura spell start her chant, with a
small alteration in the arcane words. Words she has come to know through
the arcane as protection and repulsion flow from her lips as her power slips
out through her fingertips.
A glowing aura works itself around the gnarth as her words of power slow to
a halt.
"It looks like we have gotten somewhere!" Veleris says with enthusiasm.
The gnarth looks at her and nods once more. With a quick word and wave of
her hand, a ball of fire shoots towards the gnarth. The magics colide and
explode upon contact, fling both gnarth and Veleris across the field they
have charred of the past few days.
Veleris pushes herself up on hands and knees looking for the gnarth, which
was no where in sight. As the smoke from the explosion clears, a corpse can
be seen impaled on the thick broken branch of a tree on the far side of the
demolished expanse.
Veleris stops her crawling and curls up around herself, rocking gently back
and forth as she stares wide eyed at the sacrificed gnarth. This was not
the first, and would not be the last, she was sure. The tears would no
longer fall from her eyes as she felt the loss of yet another companion.
"Damn you blue mage, why wont you show yourself to me?" She growled
through clenched teeth. "How many more experiments will this take until I
can figure you out?" Veleris crawled, bruised and bleeding, back into the
forest to work her healing spells in private. Hoping to avoide the eyes of
the gods in her disgrace.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Fri Nov 15 14:37:27 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 1)
"Your sundae, Mr. Chairman."
Ixi'kweez looked up from the many piles of paperwork and charts atop his
expansive mahogany desk when he heard the timid voice of Hyaku'cho, one of
the many interns that populated the headquarters. She smiled at the
Chairman shyly, placing the hot fudge sundae, and the platter on which it
sat, on the only clear space remaining on the Chairman's desk.
It wasn't often, that Ixi'kweez would pull an intern from his or her
important work, for something so frivolous. But the Chairman was not
looking forward to a long day of paperwork one bit. Perhaps were he to
treat himself. Chairmanship, had its privileges.
"Thank you very much, Hyaku'cho. It's perfect." Ixi'kweez smiled softly
as he gazed upon the sundae before him, complete with almonds, whipped
cream, and a cherry on top. He then looked out the nearby window, towards
Mart-Town and the tower. It was a beautiful autumn day. And here he was,
stuck inside.
"You know what? It's too nice a day to be in here All cooped up! All this
stuff can wait. I'm going to the tower to see Thimtax. Paperwork. Pfft.
What -was- I thinking?" The Chairman briskly walked past Hyaku'cho and
through the exit, the large double doors slamming briskly behind him.
Hyaku'cho stared blankly towards the desk several seconds after the Chairman
had walked out. While determining her next move, the double doors flew open
once again. The Chairman briskly strode past the intern once again,
grabbing the sundae off of his desk. He turned to regard Hyaku'cho
sheepishly.
"I can't forget my sundae! Thank you very much again. Take the rest of the
day off. We'll pay you!" He flashed a broad smile breifly, then quickly
made his way out of the office once again, the double doors slamming behind
him.
Writer: Benthic
Date Sat Nov 16 01:18:24 2013
To Althainia All ( Imm RP Taliena )
Subject A Prayer of Change
Benthic walks into the Temple of Taliena, walking quickly and quietly to
the foot of Taliena's Statue. He drops down to both knees and leans back on
his heels as he bows his head and begins to pray aloud.
Mother, I have been thinking I may be able to serve you better in a
different way. Words have never been my strong suit. My actions have
always shown brighter.
"I have not prayed as much as I should, this does not mean I do not spread
Your Love every chance I am able. I do so, every chance I get. I do so
through my actions, and sometimes through words.
"I feel I can do more for you crusading in Your name than I can as one of
your cloth at this time. I do intendto come back to the cloth, when I feel
I am ready.
I do not enjoy this, as I feel I am letting you down. I feel as if I have
failed you. You have saved me and spreading Your will is All I wish to do.
I will continue to do that every chance I get. I feel a reluctance in
hanging up my robes. I only ask acceptance to be one of Your crusaders in
Love. I will come back to the cloth when I feel I am ready. For now,
please grant me acceptance to crusade for you
Benthic sighs heavily, finding a pink rose from a pocket and laying it down
at the foot of Taliena. He leans back on his heels, taking a deep breath
with his head bowed and remains there as if stone, awaiting.
Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sat Nov 16 23:33:08 2013
To All ( Imm Religious RP )
Subject The Storm Part 1
The storm cloulds moved in, angry and boiling, and Kahlyn looked around
the temple and wondered if this was truly his Lord, or if this was the
entity that had once tried to mimic Lord Kantilles. On instinct, Kahlyn
raised All his defensive spells just as a bolt of lightning appeared in
front of him. Kahlyn fell to his knees, knowing it was truly his Lord. He
felt a wave of energy move over him and All his spells vanished as if never
cast.
Kahlyn bowed his head in reverence as his Lord spoke.
You will come with me.
In an instant, Kahlyn was no longer at the temple. He blinked a moment and
tried to get his bearings, realizing he had never once been at this new
place. He felt an odd need to investigate, as if he was bing directed.
After turning a few corners and still seeing no one, he noticed a lone
figure in a tucked-away room. Kahlyn walked into the room and gazed at
the young man. He was dressed in a simple white robe with no adornments
except a simple band of gold on his wrist. His smile was dazzling,
showing perfect teeth, and although he was truly borne of goodness, there
was an immensity of power in his eyes. Kahlyn realized at once his
Lord was bestowing upon him the greatest gift: the closeness to His true
form.
Kahlyn fell to his knees, My Lord.
(continued)
Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sat Nov 16 23:40:17 2013
To All { Imm Religious RP )
Subject The Storm Part 2
Do you know how many have gotten this close, my priest?
Kahlyn kept his head low in reverence as he replied
I am unsure, my Lord, though I would think not many at all.
I am truly blessed.
Kahlyn listened very carefully to his Lord, wondering why he had been
called in such a way. And then it came...
My Lord, I still fight for Unity. I have and still work with Fardoc
and Kuromaru in helping the cause. Aye, this shall come to pass.
However, I do not journal everything I attend to...perhaps a change.
Kahlyn glanced upwards, finally, and noticed Lord Kantilles smiling.
Perhaps.
Kahlyn was about to respond when he felt Lord Kantilles' hand on his
shoulder, the blessings of his Lord washing over him like a gentle
rain. When he opened his eyes, he was once again in the temple in
Althainia.
Writer: Dahakon
Date Sun Nov 17 20:14:09 2013
Writer: Randael
Date Mon Nov 18 21:17:18 2013
To All Nordmaar Necrucifer Imm Rp
Subject The Trip Home
Across The Icy wastelands seems a trecherous journy for most but for
Randael a Highlander by heart and the will of his god on his side he trudges
across the icy plains frost and Ice hanging from the mane of his charger and
from his chain armor. A rustling in the snow nearby catches his attention
with the heavy snow fall making visibility impossible he slowly stops his
mound to try and see or hear what is sneaking his way. A string of red eyes
start coming closer and closer he grips his lance and waits to see what
stands before him. All at once a pack of Yinn appear before him gripping
rusted nasty looking weapons snarling orders at him in yinnish. He whispers
to himself "Some things never change". His mount starts snorting flames
and he charges in ramming his lance through one of the yinn pinning him to
the mountain nearby. He then draws his sword running by them cutting each
one down with deadly percision one grabbing him and pulling him from his
mount they stand off face to face. They exchange strikes and blocks and the
yinn steps back to examine him as if he has never seen such skill and the
yinn charges in again and Randael spins slicing his stomach wide open
Killing him instantly. After a few moments he then takes the corpses
Crucifying them with the symbol of Necrucifer and whispers {"cDarkness bless"
before taking back to his mount he notices a small silver lockett. The
locket has the likeness of two identical looking females in he places the
locket in his pocket thinking it will be of some value down the road he
rummages through the yinns bags and finds a few more items of questionable
worth and jumps back on his mount. With the highlands now in sight he stops
his mount and whispers "We have work to do"
Writer: Vespera
Date Tue Nov 19 02:35:52 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Wed Nov 20 00:09:27 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Wed Nov 20 00:53:44 2013
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Wed Nov 20 00:55:48 2013
Writer: Speyburn
Date Thu Nov 21 00:43:19 2013
To Glennwyn Devion All ( imm rp religion )
Subject A Small Prank
Speyburn Antonovka Fiddich was his fathers son in a lot of ways. The
irony of swearing on his honor and by Lord Devion to obey the Marauders laws
recently wasnt lost on him at all. But after escaping that boarding school
his parents had sent him to, he was eager for a first class prank. His
father provided him the inspiration after those imps measured him with that
string and showed him those pillars and the scaffolding between them. There
were All kinds of possibilities as to what the Deceivers Imps were up to in
that, but he immediately felt the urge to beat them at their own game. A
large scale prank as it were as opposed to the small ones he had played on
the nuns at boarding school.
So under gloom of night he snuck out of Verminasias eastern gate and made
his way towards the deserted site. The scaffolding wasnt especially sturdy
at all, looking quite thin for normal standards. Glennwyn had told him the
imps worked on it. Speyburn supposed they couldnt fly indefinitely and work
at the same time, hence the platform. Regardless theyd be in for a surprise
when they worked next. The young half-elf produced a small hack saw from
his backpack.
The sound of his sawing the legs was barely heard over the sounds of the
night, the insects, the birds chirping and the snakes hissing. Speyburn
didnt simply cut the legs and destroy the scaffold, he deliberately started
a cut on each of the wooden legs of the scaffolding on their interior as not
to be seen. Cutting roughly halfway through each one, he calculated that
once anyone put any weight on that scaffolding for a period of time, the
entire thing would collapse. Pleased with his deed, he made his way back
towards Verminasia, snickering as he went. The only pity would be he
wouldnt be there to see it.
Writer: Octaivius
Date Fri Nov 22 00:34:59 2013
Writer: Goathlain
Date Fri Nov 22 17:23:36 2013
Writer: Riljak
Date Fri Nov 22 17:26:44 2013
Writer: Goathlain
Date Fri Nov 22 18:04:33 2013
Writer: Kiery
Date Fri Nov 22 18:54:24 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Fri Nov 22 20:13:47 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Fri Nov 22 20:26:41 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Fri Nov 22 20:44:59 2013
Writer: Aeshma
Date Sat Nov 23 03:00:28 2013
To All Justice
Subject Flight into Exile: An Ariel without a Cause.
The Wrath of Justice, an organization unlike any other throughout
Algoron, where justice is brought upon the wicked and those dealers of
judgement assemble and plot. An odd collection of peoples, of All races,
species and sexes, without allegiance to nation state or crown. Gigantic
and overgrown ogres work alongside miniscule and seemingly ineffective
kenders to rid the world of those who would harm its denizens, while
centaurs, orc, dwarves, humans, yinnae and All sorts of elven riff-raff and
leonine oddities work in tandem to do the same.
To Aeshma, a young male ariel exiled from Tropica, the Wrath's allure for
justice and decency in this world had been both enticing and exhilirating.
Under the tutorage of Lord Branzol Snowdragon, he had been able to rise
through the ranks and obtain command of his own soldiers. Battle and war
light any of Raije's faith aflame, and always there was conflict and martial
challenges to be met.
However, things had been changing, to Aeshma's dismay -- the Halls were
emptier, half of the inner-circle ceased to exist in any practical form, and
the Executor's hands were tied down with work away from the field of battle.
It appeared as if the Wrath had slowly been moving away from being the
spearhead of justice, and instead had begun morphing into a mercenary band
that did nothing but buff the ranks of the Shalonesti and Gareth's human
knights. Aeshma, considering these things while sitting in the Hall of
Survival, grimaced painfully to himself, whispering, "... Just who the hell
is Zoloto Pomeroy anyways..? " Thinking of the organizations stale
inner-circle and lack of drive, Aeshma's thoughts went dark, considering the
games of Raije, where one female ariel was able to steer their
decision-making process far above and beyond her rank, and ultimately to
their defeat by the hands of Bloodlust's horde. Perhaps he was being
unfair, but still.. A nagging feeling of betrayel and corruption could not
leave his thoughts.
Convinced of what he had to do, and yet torn with internal conflict, it was
with heavy heart that Aeshma went before his friend and commander, the
war-torn and battle hardened paladin, Branzol, to give his formal
resignation. Branzol, weary and tired, refused to take Aeshma's
resignation, not understanding the ariel's position. His stern face and
sense of righteousness almost crumbled Aeshma's resolve, but, biting his lip
and steeling himself, Aeshma forcefully pushed his neatly folded uniform
into the paladin
"I choose exile."
And with that the ariel grabbed his belongings, left the Hall of Justice,
and took flight to look for an Island within the Arsataw Yaa to collect his
thoughts.
Writer: Gannick
Date Sat Nov 23 17:46:41 2013
Writer: Kuromaru
Date Mon Nov 25 02:15:47 2013
To Knighthood Kiery Aethan Sorien All ( Imm RP Austinian )
Subject --+Reflecting on Sorien Kilcannon: Part 2+--
Kuromaru once more found himself found himself reminiscing about his past
with Sorien Kilcannon, this time though it was as he was meditating in front
of the statue of Austinian within the Altar Room of Gareth keep.
He remembered back to Sorien's preparations to compete in the dragon pit
match for the World Games. Sorien was speaking to Kuromaru about his need
for better enchanted weapons to help in his coming fight. Kuromaru knew of
a person willing to assist, and asked that Sorien deliver any weapons he
would need to this enchantress.
The two men still had made little headway in their discussions of Austinian
and what it meant to be one of his devout followers. Though Sorien was
beginning to mention that he was not sure he would make it back to Greystoke
Manor, he still was not grasping the concepts of Kuromaru's teaching. They
would sit and discuss what it meant to be Good, but no matter what it always
seemed that the conversation would detour into Sorien's desire to be strong,
or to prove his might.
These talks lasted nearly the entire duration of the World Games, and up
until the dragon pit match. That is when Kuromar decided it was time to
play his hand and prove his point to Sorien. Even though Sorien and his
team did not successfully win the Dragon Pit match, they did manage to bring
home a silver medal for Arkane. Kuromaru, when speaking with Sorien
congratulated the man on his accomplishments. Sorien thanked Kuromaru but
mentioned that were it not for his weapons, it could have went entirely
different then it did. Kuromaru chuckled slightly to himself and told
Sorien, 'Yes, the Metallic who enchanted them for you had much higher hopes
in your preformance. '
Sorien was completed flabbergasted. For once, he did not know what to
say.... Though, that ended quickly enough. He simply stared at Kuromaru,
trying to wrap his head around the concept of why a Metallic would help him,
a Dragonslayer in hunting a dragon.
Kuromar explained to Sorien that was what it meant to have a Good heart.
Helping others for the sole purpose of helping them. And to show compassion
and mercy to one who had before fallen from grace.
It was following that conversation that the wheels in Sorien's head began to
spin. He was beginning to wrap his head around Kuromaru's message.
Austinian's Message. It was shortly after that that Sorien made his promise
to once more become devout of Austinian and to help only Goodness.
Kuromaru smiled up at the statue in front of him, and offered a small prayer
before he gathered his things and left to return to his duties.
Writer: Salainn
Date Mon Nov 25 03:12:29 2013
To Verminasia Marcaus Vespera All ( Immortal Storyline )
Subject The Harvest Festival: Aftermath (The Reaping)
The midnight rounds were complete.
Couriers had been dispatched hours previous, delivering orders to
men-at-arms held by their pursestrings by the Knight of the Rose. Execution
orders had been distributed. Reports of thefts to investigate and eradicate
the source of the infestations. The selfsame Knight now rode along the
moonlit streets of Verminasia's capital, stopping briefly to exchange
letters with men and women of many descriptions, but sharing a crucial
similarity: humanity.
Each letter detailed the same premise: locations to investigate and standing
orders to deal with the pests. Reports had been combed through for weeks,
patterns drawn and causation extrapolated. Locations of heavy theft were
distributed amongst the men at his disposal. The first wave had been
incomplete- a deliberate stay of execution to ensure that a message was sent
to the world. The period of clemency had passed, and it had become time to
strike the killing blow.
The Knight dismounted at the final location, looking over the souls he had
gathered for his dark mission. Each of them was clothed practically and
with stealth in mind. Even he had foregone his platemail for worn gunmetal
leathers, the metal studs in them nonreflective and quieted. His tall kite
shield was replaced with a practical buckler strapped to his left forearm,
and only a shortsword accompanied him. The tight spaces would demand speed
and versatility. As his muffled feet touched ground, the unholy steed
knickered and faded, dismissed to its hellish realm.
His eyes searched the faces of his men, lingering upon one in particular,
the woman he was testing this night. With low tones he uttered a solemn
prayer, and shortly after strode forward into their midst.
'This evening we step forward upon the path, by the will of the King and the
desire of God. We have sent a bloody message to these creatures, and it
falls to us now to show them the folly of their lingering where they are not
welcome. ' He beckoned the Lady to him, indicating for her to remain close,
'We shall teach them the meaning of fear in their final moments, by Oath,
Crown, and Covenant. '
He nodded once to the Lady as the men murmured the short oath, a quiet
whisper of 'By Oath, Crown, and Covenant' passing from man to man as their
leader opened the door to a ramshackle home and stepped inside.
The reaping was to begin.
Writer: Vespera
Date Mon Nov 25 03:57:14 2013
To Verminasia Marcaus Salainn All ( Immortal Storyline )
Subject The Harvest Festival: Aftermath (Another Perspective)
The end of the harvest season bore with it a crisp chill to the air, the
scent of wet leaves and the promise of frost. The men and women who had
gathered for the night's grim task were swathed in heavy cloaks and dark
colors, silent and sombre as they gathered around the man who had called
them together. As Vespera Kesepton glanced around the faces lit by dim
hurricane lanterns, she could see no emotion to betray what was to come.
Hard faces, steely faces, belonging to others that were more seasoned and
prepared for what was to come met her gaze impassively. For her part, the
girl felt a barely contained excitement to be counted amongst them, a
macabre thrill at the idea of putting her blade to use, and of proving
herself to the man that was her teacher.
The knight motioned her near, and the girl obediently moved to his side, her
hand resting impatiently on the hilt of her her blade. Her palm felt wet,
cold, the hilt of her sword foreign -- different from the wooden hilt of her
practice blade. She expelled a thin breath, a puff of white steam escaping
from her lips and dancing into the chill night air. The end of her nose
stung with cold, the metal of her spectacles icy where they touched the
bridge of her nose. But All that she could feel was the excited pounding of
her heart.
The group huddled outside the door of a hovel, tense and ready to spring.
It felt as if the moment would never come, but when it did they pressed
forward like a wave of destructive force, a flood that swept forward unable
to be contained.
The door did not burst open with the splintering of wood. There was no
battle cry to herald their arrival. There was nothing wasted on theatrics
or show. The man who led them simply opened the door, and the group
streamed inside, moving at once as a single unit.
The creatures were stretched out in positions of repose, draped across what
felt like every inch of the floor, some curled upon broken bits of furniture
or piles of rags. The group spread through the room on silent feet, poising
their blades over their preferred targets and ready for the signal. They
would strike their first blow at once, together, before striking at will in
the confusion that followed.
The girl could feel her lenses fogging up, growing blurry around the edges
from the warmth of so many bodies pressed into the space. She found a
particularly fat creature, snoring on his back with a hoopak draped across
his chest. She pointed her blade at the creature's throat, and then looked
to Lord Illithi.
The man was as commanding as ever, a dark look on his face. He said
nothing, but at length simply nodded. In that instant, every sword thrust
forward, striking a single blow. Vespera felt the steel of her blade sink
into the creature's flesh with a note of surprise. It felt like a knife
through butter, far too easy... It was almost unsettling. The creature
flailed for only a moment, but it was enough. Others were flailing as well,
and the noise was enough to wake one or two. It was not long before they
were calling out to each other, and grabbing up their odd weapons. The
scene divulged into sudden chaos, as the girl tried to make sense of it.
Writer: Salainn
Date Mon Nov 25 04:22:43 2013
To Verminasia Marcaus Vespera All ( Immortal Storyline )
Subject The Harvest Festival Aftermath (Bloody Harvest)
When things came to a head, they boiled over quickly.
The first executions had been swift and deadly, more than half of the little
beasts' lives ended in a heartbeat. The remainder, however, were not given
to dying so quietly in their holes. With whoops and shouts the remaining
kender attempted to rally, while the men-at-arms pressed the advantage.
Salainn kept half an eye on his charge as he worked, the whistling screech
of a hoopak curtailed as he swatted it out of the grip of the kender
swinging it. The crack of wood on his buckler was sharp, and he grunted
from the impact, but his blade struck home and the vermin crumpled,
extinguished with prejudice. Vespera was holding her own, her enthusiasm
making up for her lack of skill. In the close quarters it was difficult to
tell for sure, but the darkening of her steel spoke of her taking at least
one for herself, even as she hacked at the guard of a mocking beast.
Its impish laughter ended with a squawk as the Rose Knight's boot found the
back of its skull with a slightly hollow sound, opening its guard and
letting the younger girl finish him off. No words passed between them as he
moved to the next target. Then the next.
Then it was over.
A quick surveying of the situation took the tally of his men. A few sported
minor wounds, one clutched his arm and growled when his comrade poked at it-
a break, in All likelyhood due to sloppiness. The Lady was unhurt, near as
he could tell, though even in darkness the vigor with which she comported
herself told of her satisfaction with the skirmish. A rare smile threatened
to take him, the wolfish grin of a predator, but he forced it down, settling
for a satisfied nod at Vespera, 'Good work, each of you. Bring the
creatures outside. It is time to light the signal. '
He grabbed two of the cooling corpses by the scruffs of their
obscenely-clashing outfits, at the napes of their necks, and hoisted them as
though they were but light sacks of flower. His bootfalls were heavy as he
led the procession upstairs, the macabre line ending in the cobblestone
street.
The basis of the kindling was quickly built by a squat man with a ragged
beard, and bystanders poked their heads out cautiously to see the spectacle
that had taken the run-down corner of the capital. When the blaze had been
stoked, he hefted one of his deceased charges and dropped it into the heart
of the blaze. The reek of burning hair and flesh, the sizzle of boiling
fat, filled the air as the body caught light. 'When this one is done, send
in the next. Feed the flames until the offerings are through. Save one for
the gates. '
Greasy smoke rose into the air as the kender burned, one by one, and the
night dragged on for the remaining hours. When dawn finally broke, it met
the body of one more kender suspended ten feet from the ground, supported by
the noose that held it fast. An unclean haze drifted over the city, from
the fires burning in its many districts until they consumed themselves. All
across the kingdom, hamlets and keeps alike put their vermin to the flame.
There was no way to have taken All of them, but the blow had been decisive.
Writer: Flike
Date Mon Nov 25 04:38:01 2013
Writer: Vespera
Date Mon Nov 25 05:19:17 2013
Writer: Tief
Date Tue Nov 26 21:55:22 2013
To All imm religion zandreya
Subject Gnomes on Vacation - Hodgekins
(style inspired by Ghyt and poorly imitated)
A cold breeze tugged at cloaks and scarves in the town of Hodgekins.
That isn't entirely true. Hodgekins wasn't so much a town as it was a
handful of homesteads of people related (sometimes more than once) to a
long-dead man named Hodge. The homesteaders prided themselves on two
things: potatoes and the rock in Old Bill's field that sort of looked like a
horse if you squinted.
The gnome, his red-haired wife, and their elf-daughter graciously shared
potato stew and potato bread with the locals. The gnome blessed the
harvest, officiated the naming of a child, and agreed that the rock in the
field -did- sort of look like a horse.
In the morning, it was time to move on, so the gnome and his family walked
down the road towards the next village in high spirits. Harvest time was a
happy time.
Writer: Verdemar
Date Wed Nov 27 02:13:26 2013
Writer: Verdemar
Date Wed Nov 27 13:14:47 2013
Writer: Antramita
Date Wed Nov 27 17:40:57 2013
Writer: Naevera
Date Thu Nov 28 04:47:28 2013
Writer: Tief
Date Thu Nov 28 10:20:11 2013
To All imm religion zandreya
Subject Gnomes on Vacation - Orchard
Frost clung to the empty branches of the orchard, making the trees look
like strange, branching crystals.
Fortunately, the good people of Orchard had long harvested the last of the
apples from the acres of orchards that gave the village its name. Orchard
depended on apples for trade, in particular the handful of varieties unique
to the area.
The gnome, his red-haired wife, and their elf-daughter tasted no fewer than
eight different apple pies, not to mention various apple sauces and ciders.
The gnome himself did not try the harder ciders out of principal, but
appreciated the idea.
The gnome blessed Orchard's new wishing well, traded pie recipes with the
mayor's wife, and learned to dance the local jig. In the morning, it was
time to move on down the road to the next village.
Writer: Cherrae
Date Thu Nov 28 15:34:53 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Thu Nov 28 18:07:48 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Thu Nov 28 21:47:41 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 2)
The Chairman enjoyed his sundae quietly, as he casually made his way
across the plain towards the tower site. There was no missing the tower
now. Over the past few months, it had risen to the height of 470 feet, as
per Thimtax's account at the last executive meeting. What had started as a
giant hole in the ground in late summer, was now a gigantic, gleaming
precipice of alabaster quartz, piercing the azure winter sky. Yule was
rapidly approaching, and the tower was nearly fifty percent complete. At
this rate, it would be finished in the Spring.
Ixi'kweez frowned slightly, as the giant cranes and pulleys atop the tower
came in to view. No cables were moving. No giant, interlocking blocks of
quartz were being hoisted into the air. There seemed to be no activity at
all at the tower. Ixi's first impressions were confirmed as he approached
the outer limits of Mart-Town. He did not see the normal hustle and bustle
through the streets that had developed over the past several months.
Finishing his sundae, the Chairman opened a portal into some deep, dark
corner of Thaxanos. He nonchalantly tossed the empty glass and spoon into
the portal, and made his way down Dented Steel Neckguard Boulevard, towards
the tower, and Thimtax's pavillion.
Reaching the inner fence into the construction area, he spotted Ooof,
relaxing in a chair, just outside of the pavillion. The ogre in the grey
pinstriped suit turned to regard the Chairman warmly as he approached.
"Hello der, Ixi. It's gud ter see another face. It's been a ghost town
here today."
"Yes. I've noticed that myself..." Ixi'kweez replied, furrowing his brow.
"You wouldn't happen to know why that would be, now would you?"
Ooof craned his head upward, focusing on some unseen point on the tower.
"Thimtax sez there's an anon-...... Amon-... Anomal-.... Well, him says
der small problem. But he say nut problem. He say he just need quiet and
time to figure it out. Send workers All home. Ask everyone to take day
off. Stay home. Everything fine."
Ixi'kweez pondered the ogre's words quietly. He was well aware of his
tendency to overreact in these kind of situations, usually with hilarious
consequences. He took a silent breath, and continued.
"So. He's up there now? In the tower?"
Ooof looked at the Chairman skeptically. "Yuz think thats a gud idea, Ixi?
Mez nut know what he's doin up there."
Ixi'kweez shot the ogre a coy smile. "Oh, I wouldn't worry, my friend. I
was just going to say hello! So. Where up there, might he be?"
The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit let out a low grumble, then grudgingly
acquiesced. "Last I saw him, him was on 26th floor. Himz playin with
numbers or somethin."
Thank you, Ooof. Now, if you will excuse me, I will make my way up the
tower." With that, the Chairman briskly strode towards the entrance to the
tower.
Ooof waited until Ixi'kweez was far enough away, to allow his smile to break
through. The ogre wasn't sure what was going to happen up there, but he was
confident that he had chosen the perfect seat from which to observe.
Writer: Aelysse
Date Fri Nov 29 08:09:08 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Fri Nov 29 08:41:50 2013
Writer: Thanatael
Date Fri Nov 29 09:36:24 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Fri Nov 29 14:56:21 2013
Writer: Tief
Date Sat Nov 30 10:06:33 2013
To All imm religion zandreya
Subject Gnomes on Vacation - Bernard's Hollow
The floor of this valley had remained colorful - greenish grass, golden
leaves - while the low mountains protecting it had taken the brunt of an
early snowfall.
The townspeople of Bernard's Hollow made a good show of taking the gnome,
his red-haired wife, and their elf-daughter on a tour of the trees and
bushes that produced the valley's nuts. They were treated to samples in
numerous forms - raw, roasted, baked into pies.
After the tour, the gnome admired the statue in the town's market, said to
depict an elf from legend who left a trail of nuts while walking through the
valley. He blessed a new storehouse, told a story about an evil ogre
tricked into thinking that rocks were really hard nut shells, and graciously
accepted a carved nutcracker (with one arm).
They spent the night and moved west in the morning.
Writer: Mizzium
Date Sat Nov 30 22:32:56 2013
Writer: Sorien
Date Mon Dec 2 18:39:53 2013
Writer: Dahakon
Date Mon Dec 2 20:22:00 2013
Writer: Ashbie
Date Mon Dec 2 20:33:05 2013
To Dahakon Verminasia All RP Derigimus Imm Iolanthe
Subject Iolanthe I
The rocks that created a steady thump beneath the carriage wheels could
barely be felt as well as they could be heard. In truth, the ride was a
fine one, as smooth as one could expect short of flying. However, as
readily available as magic was in Algoron, it seemed that no one had quite
managed to make floating carriages a marketable commodity. It had to be
stated that Baron Kensey's tastes were as fine as he presented them to be,
and he paid only for the very best. For All the airs she threw up, Ashbie
was not as familiar with the same things. Still, Devion had been in her
blood from the moment she'd been born and she could act with the best of
them.
It was not that the young woman did not enjoy the older man's company,
quite the contrary, she'd pestered him often enough for this very moment,
but there was a looming sense of inferiority that threatened to dampen the
whole adventure. For her part, that feeling was unsettling for Ashbie. She
was used to confidence and self-assurance. She wasn't who she was without
being utterly certain of everything she did. She wasn't always right, but
if she pretended she was, then she was fine. However, that was proving
difficult in this new and surprising atmosphere.
For starters, he was being nice.
To be fair, Baron Kensey had been plenty nice to her as far as All things
were considered. However, it was customary for him to show disdain, and
he'd done plenty to put her down in the past. The echoes of past insults
and demeaning comments were ever present as faint echoes in her thoughts.
Dahakon seemed to note her discomfort and his voice, smooth and liquid,
with the silk of a life spent orating, brought back her attention, "Ashbie?"
The man before her was not a man of exquisite beauty, yet, it did not hurt
to look upon him either. Furthermore, he had a sense about him of such
confidence and power that Ashbie couldn't help but be drawn into that dark
gaze of his. There was a strength and intensity there that manifested in
goosebumps that rose along the skin of her arm and the back of her neck,
"Yes?"
"I was asking if you would prefer the seared scallops or the baked quail.
Both will be served with Iolanthe's finest of course: wine, cheese and the
rye." The Baron spoke with a deliberately smug confidence to his
sensibility, as if he were immensely proud of a certain superiority to the
options arrayed before her. However, the oddities continued: he was
pleased but not condescending. What confidence Ashbie was clinging onto in
the midst of her conflicting feelings allowed her to sense just a little of
his own desire to impress her.
The thought caused Ashbie to giggle. She was not beyond giggling in any
sense. Sure, she could knock many men out with a single punch, but she'd
never let that fact steer her away from so many of the pleasures of being
pretty. Growing up as she did with a terrible case of acne and a rather
round figure had left her vulnerable about the attractiveness she'd
attained. She prized it dearly, and a part of her felt that it was a
weakness. However, a much larger part of her relished in it. She was
beautiful, gorgeous even, and she adored the image she was able to paint
of herself to others with various outfits and simple gestures and sounds,
"The scallops, I think."
Writer: Ashbie
Date Mon Dec 2 20:35:05 2013
To Dahakon Verminasia All RP Derigimus Imm Iolanthe
Subject Iolanthe II
Shouts rose up around the carriage as it slowed and, after a few moments,
came to a stop. There were the sounds of hurried movement and the smells
of dusty road as activity rose to a flurry outside. Ashbie began to stand,
smoothing at the skirts of her blue gown. Dahakon raised his hand,
however, wordlessly commanding her to remain seated. She did. Instead, the
tall man rose himself, ducking beneath the door frame as he stepped out.
There was something entirely humorous about the moment. There was no lack
of dignity in the movement, and yet, there was a certain touch of
awkwardness to it that tickled the young woman, causing another giggle.
"Baron" She said quietly, more quiet than was ever really known to her.
Ashbie had already stood up again, moving towards the door, commands could
only hold her for so long. The Baron smiled up at her. It was mostly smug,
and yet, there was something strangely pleasant about it, attractive even.
Ashbie beamed a smile in return, and that was the first image she
presented to those gathered around the carriage.
"Welcome to Iolanthe. We are at the northeastern boundary of my holding.
Behind the manor sits the docks at the end of the Mencian river splitting
Iolanthe from Gyathoth. His Majesty entrusts much in the Kensey name to
give us such a powerful plot of land."
As Ashbie was want to do, she let her gaze wander. Her chocolate brown
eyes looked up at the sky, the sky that was not so very different from the
one at home. She'd been on plenty of adventures in spite of her young age,
she'd seen so much of the world. Yet, it was still always incredible to
her how so much remained the same in places that were so different.
However, her expression revealed only nothing. It was a practiced disdain,
as much a part of her nature as her love for the sea or her tendency to
fight. It must have appeared as boredom to Dahakon, but if that bothered
him he said nothing about it.
"Good townspeople, I introduce to you Ashbie Picard-Oneiroi, Lady of
Camaraenaus. She has come to our fair lands for a visit and will be
treated benefitting one of her rank, an honored guest and noble of this
Kingdom. Tonight there will be feasting and traditional dancing within the
Town Center."
A grin spread across Ashbie's features as her attention was drawn back to
the Baron and those gathered around the two of them. She'd come for an
adventure as much as anything else, not the least of which was Dahakon's
personal company. Feasting and dancing were All parts of any good
adventure as far as she was concerned. However, a blush spread
through her cheeks too, as a rare sense of shy embarrassment stole across
her face. He'd called her a lady, treated her like a noble. For so long
her parents had taught her to disdain such things, and yet, now that they
were nobles, and she one as a result, she found she didn't mind it so much.
"Lady Navigator, Baron." Ashbie corrected after a moment, still grinning a
bit foolishly, "Though you have too many earned titles for me to say them
all at once properly." She added. She was not beyond flattery, especially
when it came to him.
Writer: Euterah
Date Mon Dec 2 20:59:29 2013
Writer: Nimesa
Date Tue Dec 3 08:02:02 2013
To All Conclave Niceven Nistle RP Imm
Subject Study time
Nimesa flitted around "Aunty Ashy's" house, grumbling, once again, about
how much studying she has to do. Everytime she asked why she has to study,
her parents just said, "Because I said so." That was so unfair! Having
both her parents and her uncle in the Conclave was too much pressure!
Struggling to pull a book out from a bookcase, Nimesa wondered why pixies
didn't have their own pixie sized libraries. Well, maybe they did, but
being born amongst the larger races didn't help her now! Her wings beating
at a fast pace, they helped her get momentum and she finally pulled the book
out far enough to drop it on the floor. It fell on top of a few others that
Nimesa had been reading and couldn't put away.
Pushing it off the other books, Nimesa opened the cover of the book that was
almost as tall as she was and turned to the table of contents. Reading as
she walked down the page, she spoke out loud to herself, "Healing spells,
protection spells, transportation spells, oh, we go, combat spells, page
492." Nimesa letting out an exasperated sigh, she set out on the arduous
task to find the page.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, she got to the page she was looking
for. Walking up to the top of the page, and again reading out loud, Nimesa
read: "Magic Missile. One newly trained in the arts of magic combat..."
Writer: Ta'karon
Date Tue Dec 3 11:45:15 2013
Writer: Ta'karon
Date Tue Dec 3 11:46:38 2013
Writer: Ta'karon
Date Tue Dec 3 12:44:50 2013
Writer: Ta'karon
Date Tue Dec 3 12:46:25 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Dec 4 14:21:42 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 3)
Ixi'kweez was exhausted when he finally crested the neverending stairwell
and stepped onto the twenty-sixth floor of the soon to be Ixi-Mart Worldwide
Headquarters. Despite his frequent trips to Mart-Town, he had not ventured
this high up until now, and when he did enter the tower, he was more than
happy to use the elevator. However, it appeared that Thimtax indeed did not
wish to be bothered, and had locked the elevator where he had gotten off.
Sure enough, as Ixi made his way from the stairwell, there was the elevator,
in the center of the floor, locked in place.
A coy smile crept upon the Chairman's lips as he held onto the handrail,
still trying to catch his breath. After allowing himself another moment of
recovery, he made his way to the opposite end of the floor, spotting the
hardhat wearing gnome sitting in a windowledge. As he drew closer to the
gnome, Ixi could see that there were many tables, schematics, and
calculations strewn All about beneath the gnome. But Thimtax was not
looking at any of them at the moment. It was lunchtime, and the gnome was
taking a break, enjoying a sandwich and some coffee, which he calmly set
down on the ledge beside him as he noticed the Chairman approach.
"Ah, if it isn't the Chairman! Now, how did I know you'd drop by?" The
hardhat wearing gnome said, a coy smile of his own developing on his face.
Ixi shot the gnome an innocent glance, "Why, I was simply out for a walk,
and just -happened- to find myself in Mart-Town. And I couldn't help but
notice, the streets were deserted. Then, I came upon Ooof, at your
pavillion."
"Ohhhh....." Thimtax replied dryly. "So, I suppose Ooof told you there's
a problem, and now you're All worried, and checking up on me. Is that it?"
The Chairman feigned shock at the notion. "Why, that's not it at all! I
simply thought I would come up here and say hello! I know you've got
everything under control!"
Thimtax hopped off of the windowledge and approached the Chairman, gazing at
him skeptically. "Oh really. Just thought you'd come up to say hello. You
climbed twenty-six flights, to say hello."
Ixi'kweez squirmed at the gnome's shrewd gaze. But he was not about to
change his story now. "Yes. Hello!" The Chairman smiled sheepishly.
Thimtax groaned and shook his head. "You're full of it, Ixi. But I'll tell
you about it. It wasn't a problem, so much as an anomaly. And it's not any
type of problem now, for I have figured out the solution, and that solution
will be implemented very shortly."
Writer: Adyn
Date Wed Dec 4 15:02:17 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Dec 4 15:09:09 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 4)
Thimtax gestured the Chairman to the windowledge, where he observed a
length of rope hanging just to the right of the outside of the tower. The
rope sat nearly two feet away from the window, and from what Ixi could tell,
reached from the top of the tower, All the way to the ground below. Upon
further inspection, it appeared that the gap between the rope and the tower,
increased slightly as its altitude decreased.
"You see, the tower is a little off center.. 42 degrees, to be exact. That
rope, where we are, is off just under twenty-four inches. At ground level,
it's off 42 inches. At 1, 039 feet, the completed tower's height, that
distance will grow to eight feet."
Ixi'kweez mulled the gnome's words over and over in his mind before
replying. But the truth was, Ixi really had no idea of their significance.
"Is... Is that a lot?"
"No, not really." Thimtax replied. "It's well within acceptable
tolerances, and has no effect on the structural integrity of the building.
In fact, it's not even perceivable to the naked eye. I only noticed it
yesterday, when I set up that cord, specifically to see how straight we're
rising."
"So. How might this anomaly have come about?"
"Could've been a number of things, or a combination of them. Tectonic
shifts, humanoid error... It's hard to pin it down, really. The upside is,
I've the solution, and am in the process of implementing it. So, there's
absolutely nothing to worry about. Trust me. You trust me, Ixi, don't
you?" The hardhat gnome looked up at the Chairman calmly.
Ixi'kweez began to feel bad for his intrusion. Clearly, Thimtax knew what
he was doing. "Why, yes, friend. Of course I trust you."
Thimtax pulled a large white rolled up cloth from the sack beside him.
There was a length of rope attached to each upper corner of the cloth.
Thimtax heaved the roll on to the windowledge and climbed up with it. He
calmly affixed each rope to hooks sunk into the windowledge. He turned to
regard the Chairman.
"Good. Now, if you will allow me, I will implement my plan to straighten
the tower." With that, the gnome stood up and unfurled the cloth. The
Chairman almost didn't notice the bulls-eye pattern painted on the other
side, as it dropped out of view just below the ledge.
Writer: Dahakon
Date Wed Dec 4 15:22:54 2013
Writer: Evary
Date Wed Dec 4 15:52:17 2013
Writer: Dahakon
Date Wed Dec 4 15:54:28 2013
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Dec 4 16:47:12 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 5: Camera Two)
The large, brass wyrm glided effortlessly, high above the plains of
Althainia. The shining sun felt good upon its scales in the brisk winter
morning. Normally, the wyrm would have sought warmth within its own lair,
preferring warmer venues. However, this day, he was presented with a most
intriguing request from the gnome-thing that worked on the tower. A request
that interested the dragon so strongly, it compelled him to leave the
confines of his lair, and remain in a holding pattern, circling the plain,
until the signal was given. The sun was now at its zenith. It was noon.
It could come at any time.
The jury was still out, in the brass dragon's mind, on whether the
gnome-thing was some sort of genius, or simply insane. To test its own
tower this way, in the name of an insignificant structural correction,
seemed a horrible gamble to Ol' Brassy. But the way he saw it, if the
gnome-thing's plan failed, the wyrm could be done with All of this tower
nonsense. And if it succeeded, then he would have a wonderful observation
point in the near future.
Ol' Brassy maintained his vigilant gaze on the tower as he continued his
lazy circle around it, stretching his muscles as he went. "The gnome-thing
sssaysss it will affixxx a sssignal to the ssspot where he will ssstrike.
It sssaysss to hit perpendicular, and with maxxximum forcccce. One
ssstrike. Then he can return to hisss lair."
A hint of movement on his left caught the wyrm's eye. Focusing in, he could
clearly see the little gnome unfurling some sort of cloth with a contrasting
circular pattern upon it. It layed flat against the tower, a couple feet
below the windowledge it was released from. It was time.
"Ssso be it..." The dragon mused to himself. "Let'sss ssseee what manner
of builder you are."
The large, brass dragon made one final loop, adjusting his elevation to that
of the bulls-eye. Turning himself towards the tower, he let out a powerful
roar, and began his cannonball flight towards his target.
Writer: Tief
Date Wed Dec 4 17:19:03 2013
To All imm religion zandreya
Subject Gnomes on Vacation - Heartwood
In the southern faerie woods, sitting by a tributary of the great
Althainian river, there was a lodge. The log home, affectionately named
Heartwood, sat two days by foot from the nearest settlement.
The gnome, his red-haired wife, and their elf-daughter arrived with no
fanfare. They simple knocked at the door and were let in. Dinner with the
elf-lady of the house was quiet - salads for the gnomes and venison for the
two elves. Dessert was roasted nuts - glazed with valuable sugar.
In the morning, the four of them walked down to the river. The gnome stood
over over the grave-marker of the elf-man of the house. He said a short
eulogy. They took turns trying to skip stones across the river, the
elf-man's favored pastime.
The gnome, his red-haired wife, and their elf-daughter left the next day
with a promise to visit again in the spring. They left behind a sack with
flour, cheese, and small pouches of interesting spices. It was a thoughtful
walk back north, into the faerie forest.
They had only one more stop to make on the way home.
Writer: Dahakon
Date Wed Dec 4 21:29:09 2013
Writer: Kahlyn
Date Wed Dec 4 21:48:38 2013
To All ( Imm RP )
Subject The Meeting
Kahlyn smiled a greeting to Kuromaru Shiroken and Fardoc GaleHammer, it
had taken some doing but All three had finally found each other awake at the
same time.
It is good to see you, both. It has been too long.
The meeting was needed and necessary. Many things were discussed and even
more things decided... A very good meeting, indeed. New life was breathed
into the the pursuit of Unity, new ideas, and strengthened bonds... A
glorious meeting.
As the meeting concluded, each knelt in prayer to their Gods. They left,
renewed in their tasks. The realm would see, soon enough.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Dec 4 22:56:39 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 6: Camera One)
Thimtax stood at the window in silence. Ixi'kweez, for lack of anything
better to do, had done the same. Being this high off the ground was still
an uncomfortable and disconcerting experience for the Chairman. Sure, the
tower was exactly as he had envisioned it. But the sensation of being so
high off the ground was still fresh. Ixi leaned on the windowledge and
allowed his gaze to pan out across the Althainian countryside. A faint hint
of movement in the Chairman's peripheral vision brought his eyes to his
right. In the distance, he could see a wyrm flying nearly at eye level,
effortlessly gliding on unseen currents.
The Chairman never had the opportunity to view such a magnificent creature
before, soaring high above the Althainian plain. He never even had the
opportunity to ride one. Ixi was enthralled as he watched the wyrm slowly
continue its majestic path across the sky. It maintained its path, until it
was directly in front of the window, perhaps two miles away.
"Hmm. That wyrm looks a lot like that brass dragon that helped us with the
foundation." Ixi'kweez said absent-mindedly.
"Aye, that's Ol' Brassy alright. No missing that behemoth out there."
The giant wyrm halted its path and turned to face the tower. After
stretching his wings, it let out an enormous roar, which shook the tower
slightly.
"Well, he certainly sounds like he's up to somethin-" The Chairman froze, as
he glanced back and forth between the brass dragon, and the giant bulls-eye
just below him on the outside of the tower. The pieces finally coming
together for the Chairman, he was sent into an immediate panic. He wheeled
around to face the hardhat wearing gnome. The Chairman was unable to
formulate words, and simply stood there, mouth agape in utter horror.
"Yeah, you're going to want to jump the instant he hits..." Thimtax
offered casually. ".. Or at least sit down somewhere. I told him to come
at us with everything he's got."
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Dec 4 23:49:19 2013
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti_kingdom Shalonesti Nordmaar Austinian Zandreya imm Scorn Nazca
Subject Raising The Tower ".42 degrees" (Part 7: Camera Three)
The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit was awoken from his nap by a
terrible roaring sound. Brushing off the sands of slumber, his eyes slowly
focused on an area to the right of the tower. Immediately, he recognized
the large brass dragon, hovering in mid-air, and facing the tower, and by
extension, him. Ooof quickly rose from his woefully overburdened chair and
maintained his gaze on Ol' Brassy.
Ooof was left in the dark regarding Thimtax's plan to fix whatever was wrong
with the tower, just like everyone else. He was not lying when he told Ixi
he didn't know what Thimtax was doing up there. To boot, Ooof could not see
the giant bulls-eye, hanging on the ledge on the opposite side of the tower.
It was only when the huge brass dragon made its move, that the full gravity
of the situation dawned on the ogre.
The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit instinctively backed away from the
tower a step or two, nearly tripping over his chair in the process. Ooof
grumbled uneasily. "Ol' Brassy gunna hit der tower..."
Was this part of Thimtax's plan to correct the anomaly? Had someone working
on the tower angered the wyrm? Ooof had no idea. But the prospect of the
brass dragon smashing into the tower gave him a very uneasy feeling. He was
torn between watching the incredible event unfold before him, and running
for his life, should the tower topple or collapse.
Alas, the ogre's nerve gave out as he witnessed the horrifying velocity at
which the wyrm was approaching the tower. If he was going to run, he would
have to do it now. There'd be no running if he waited for the tower to
collapse in front of him. The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit began to run
down Dented Steel Neckguard Boulevard, yelling.
"Get inside now!! Stay in yer homes!! Ooof nut playin around here!!"
Ooof reached the outside perimeter of Mart-Town before he stopped his mad
dash to safety. Here, he would remain. If the worst did happen, the help
of every able body would be needed for search and rescue. He faced the
tower, and braced himself for the wyrm's impact.
Writer: Aelysse
Date Thu Dec 5 08:14:14 2013
Writer: Aelysse
Date Thu Dec 5 11:28:58 2013
Writer: Brunster
Date Thu Dec 5 20:20:03 2013
Writer: Tief
Date Thu Dec 5 21:32:26 2013
To All imm religion zandreya
Subject Gnomes on Vacation - Faerie Forest
The tired trio entered a clearing in the faerie woods. The gnome, his
red-haired wife, and their elf-daughter had just about walked through a pair
of shoes each. Happily for them, this would be the last stop before home.
They sat down near the edge of the clearing and waited for nightfall.
Slowly, small lights lit up and hovered in the air. Before long, a small
galaxy of fireflies was dancing in the clearing. Beings of varying ethereal
and corporeal states emerged from the surrounding woods - the faerie folk.
The gnome watched with reverence as the faeries joined in the strange dance.
After a while, a trio of forest sprites grabbed at the gnomes and elf,
bringing them to their feet and into the sparkling cloud. They danced for
hours, until the first hint of daylight appeared.
The fireflies scattered back into the woods and faded out of sight. Not
long after, so did the faeries of the woods - though one or two stopped to
wave good-bye.
Exhausted from a wondrous night, the gnomes and the elf picked up their
things and walked on towards home (and a nice, long nap).
Writer: Vespera
Date Sat Dec 7 01:17:50 2013
To All verminasia
Subject Feeling the Wind
It was the finest example of equine perfection that she had ever seen.
The King's stallion was striking, to say the least, with a thick crest of a
neck and a powerful, muscular body. The sable coat shone and glistened in
the fading evening light, stretched sleek across musculature that had been
carefully perfected over countless generations.
The girl was thrilled.
She sat upon the fine leather saddle, light and oiled to a supple shine, as
a man would sit upon such a mount. This delighted her as well, though it
was not a unique experience. She had been shunning the practice of riding
sidesaddle for years, but she had never ridden astride a mount in front of
anyone who could witness it. Tonight was no exception. She was alone in
the vast spanse of the King's pasture. The gold coins that Lord Illithi had
given her to pay for the experience had assured such.
The flat grassland stretched on and on, rolling in the wind like an ocean of
deep dark green, almost black in the fading light. The stallion pranced and
shifted about, tossing his head with an energy barely contained. Though the
girl had grown up with horses, she had only been allowed mares and geldings
to ride, those of a gentler nature and better temperament. To the girl,
mastering this stallion signified a new era in her life - one of personal
choice, and growing skill. There was no one to watch her now, she did this
for herself. To prove once and for All that she was now the master of her
own destiny.
With a flick of the reigns, the girl sent the stallion lurching forward. As
she felt the powerful creature shift beneath her, her heart lept to her
throat, an overwhelming anxiousness and unbridled joy filling her entire
being. With the ends of the reigns she whipped the creature's flanks, one
after another, again and again spurring it faster and faster. The ground
became a blur as the two made one flew over it, girl and horse, horse and
girl.
As the sun set, the stars wheeled overhead. The wind chapped at her face as
it bit the girl's cheeks and nose, tossing her long hair about into a messy
tangle. The proud animal did not slow as the darkness came and the silvery
shadows the moons cast raced underfoot and along with the pair.
The girl stretched her arms out wide, releasing the rains. She closed her
eyes, and trusted in the steady hoofbeats of the stallion. She trusted that
the ground was solid underfoot. She trusted herself. She trusted in the
future that she was carving, and in those that were helping her along that
path.
Her heart beat wildly within her breast. She knew bliss.
Writer: Adyn
Date Sat Dec 7 16:32:06 2013
Writer: Cassian
Date Sat Dec 7 20:09:41 2013
To All Nordmaar
Subject Remembering the first hunt
The young prince was knelt down in the snow and freezing. While the stump
before him and trees around him were doing a good job of shielding Cassian
from most of the snow storm, and the weather itself was somewhat calm, it
still took most of his strength just to stop himself shaking, a fact not
entirely aided by his nerves. It had been hours now, and it felt like his
shot was getting worse, not better.
'If yue don't bae bringin' me back ai kill, then yue best 'ave been payin'
attention tue how tue make a fire. Tha nights bae long in tha mountain
pass.'
Cassian was sure that his hunting trainer's eyes were on him from somewhere,
he had yet to be allowed out of Nordmaar alone, and he knew the chances of
it happening where he could freeze to death or be attacked by wolves was
slim at best. Still, the thought of being watched only made his hands seem
to freeze even more, and he longed the chance to simply sneak off.
It felt like hours further were passing, yet by the position of the sun and
how it reflected on the snow he knew it had been no such thing. It was then
that he caught the movement; An adult snow fox, small and subtle as it
followed its nose through soft white blanket. Little did it now, it was not
the only hunter searching.
His face scrunched up as he held up the bow, pulling back the string with
his left hand as he watched the creature through the sight. Seconds felt
like minutes as he held his breathe, praying he wouldn't give himself away
too soon. Every instruction he'd ever been given was racing through his
head, alongside every prayer he could imagine for his shot to finally strike
true.
The soft twanging of the string was almost imperceivable over the pained cry
of the fox. It hadn't been a kill, but it had hit the hind with enough
force to knock the animal over. Not wanting it to suffer more than it must,
or run away and die slowly, he leapt to his feet and run in. The draw of
his dagger was a lot more natural to him, knuckles white as the adrenaline
surged through his body. His bow fell somewhere behind him as his now freed
right hand grabbed the soft fur about the scruff, holding it steady as the
blade slit right through the throat. He longed to look away, not to have to
watch the creature die in his hands but he couldn't. Morbid curiosity or a
desire to ensure the job was done, his eyes stared on as the color of the
snow began to change.
'Bloodae 'ell lad, yue finallae gune an' done it! Now let's get yue 'ome.'
The sound of his trainer behind him brought him from his trance, forced him
to push away the feelings or remorse as pride now took to the fore. His
sing 'no eyes' looked upon the creature with renewed perspective, appreciating the
power behind his action and the lessons being learnt. Not least of which
was to bury away the emotions that bound him, to harden his heart and mind.
Back in the city, he sat in silence as he was shown how skin it and prepare
the skin so that it wouldn't rot or spoil. Passed on to the leathercrafter,
he soon had his very own animal mask sporran, a trophy of his first kill, a
sign of many more to come and a new grasp on life and death, and buried
emotions.
Writer: Adyn
Date Sun Dec 8 20:14:40 2013
Writer: Dunnikin
Date Sun Dec 8 21:42:24 2013
Writer: Dunnikin
Date Sun Dec 8 21:47:33 2013
Writer: Elrei
Date Sun Dec 8 21:48:37 2013
To All Taliena Imm RP
Subject Elrei's Journal - Writings from the Heart
_________________________________________________________________________
\ / |
| I have accepted myself. |
| |
| Does that make me happy? Content? At peace? |
| |
| No. |
| |
| I have accepted my sorrow. My discontent. My pain. |
| These, too, are part of myself. |
| |
| What is past is behind. It will not change, except to fade. The flowers|
| of tomorrow bloom brighter than the ones of yesterday, in memory. |
| |
| She told me, once, "There are few in this world who know discontent as |
| you." |
| |
| I protested, fool that I was. She knew, as only She could. Her words |
| were not for me, then, but for me as I am now. |
| |
| She told me, once, "Do not take All of your happiness secondhandedly." |
| |
| I have not. But I have learned, through time and experience, that |
| happiness is diminished if not shared. The triumph unheard of by others|
| withers and pales in comparison to the joy of recognition, or the |
| euphoric camaraderie of shared success. |
| |
| I have sought happiness, fool that I am. Happiness sought is never |
| found. Like a mislaid key, it is only found when searching for |
| something else. No, do not shut your eyes to it, do not blind yourself,|
| but widening the lids to catch the corners of vision only strains the |
| eye. |
| |
| Search for something else, then. Happiness is not the goal, but the |
| byproduct. |
| |
| Then what is the goal? |
| |
| Goals come easily, in the beginning. Others set them for you. Live long|
| enough, however, and you must set your own. This is harder. |
| |
| The goals others set, you have their word they are worthwhile, |
| necessary, important, achievable. Why easier to trust their word than |
| your own? Lack of confidence? Perhaps. You have tasted failure, in the |
| goals you set for yourself. Passed and surpassed the tests of others, |
| you end up disappointing yourself instead, and it is bitter. |
| ________________________________________________________________________|
\|/========================================================================\
Writer: Elrei
Date Sun Dec 8 21:52:11 2013
To All Taliena Imm RP
Subject Elrei's Journal - Writings from the Heart
_________________________________________________________________________
| \ /
| Stop setting goals, you stop failing at them, but then you never |
| succeed either. |
| |
| How much failure must one endure to achieve success? |
| |
| Who defines success? Me? |
| |
| No. Her. |
| |
| Then why do you see failure? She has never spoken it. She has never |
| removed Her Blessing. |
| |
| You only see failure because you gave up. You stopped trying. You |
| refused to change, to grow. |
"Yes."
| So change. |
"Difficult."
| Yes. But failure is meaningless, unless you accept it as the |
| destination. |
| |
| Why is it necessary? Why should it matter, being part of the |
| priesthood? Can I not preach just as well as I am? Have I not done so, |
| as Her Prophet? |
| |
| You have, and you have not. |
| |
| I've seen the damage they can cause, I've seen the abuse of authority |
| gained. Even the Goddess Herself said, "There is not a priest among my |
| ranks who is not selfish in some way." I have no such ambition, I seek |
| no such power or glory. Why seek the priesthood? |
| |
| For others. You have been a priest in All but name nearly All your |
| life. Why should taking on the name itself change you, who or what you |
| are? Will you damage? Will you abuse the authority? Must you become |
| selfish to become a priest? |
"I would hope not."
Writer: Elrei
Date Sun Dec 8 21:56:29 2013
To All Taliena Imm RP
Subject Elrei's Journal - Writings from the Heart
_________________________________________________________________________
\ / |
| Authority is needed. Leadership is needed. You have seen, and heard |
| others who would seek it in you. Why do you resist this? |
"Fear."
| |
| Selfishness. |
| |
Elrei cursed silently, defeated.
| |
| Who is more selfish? The priest, seeking recognition, or the man who |
| refuses to give it to himself as well as others? |
| |
| Will I be happy? |
| |
| Are you happy now, as you are? |
Elrei hesitated.
Part of him wanted to retort with an emphatic "yes!" While another part
gave a dejected but firm "no." He nearly wrote both, along with "I don't
know," but realized the answer was irrelevant, yes or no.
| Then it doesn't matter. |
|
