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Player Written Story Note Archive

Note: If you see names without the note below, its due to their story not being posted to "All"

Listed By Author Name

"Raise Yer Mugs" - a drinking song by Fender Mallet
Planting festival (pert one)
Planting festival (part two)
**T'pal Mal** (Part one)
**T'pal Mal** (Part two)
**T'pal Mal** (Part three)
**T'pal Mal** (Part four)
**T'pal Mal** (Part five)
Hunting Traitors - The Arrival (Part 1)
Hunting Traitors - The Arrival (Part 2)
**T'pal Mal** (Part six)
**T'pal Mal** (Part seven)
**T'pal Mal** (Part eight)
**T'pal Mal** (Part nine)
**T'pal Mal** (Part ten)
**T'pal Mal** (Part eleven)
**T'pal Mal** (Part twelve)
**T'pal Mal** (Part thirteen)
**T'pal Mal** (Part fourteen)
Hunting Traitors - Street Brawl (Part 1)
Hunting Traitors - Street Brawl (Part 2)
Pursuit of Faith (Part One)
Pursuit of Faith (Part Two)
Pursuit of Faith (Part Three)
X Queenside Tournament X
Hunting Traitors - First Command (Part 3)
News on Drobsek
Hunting Traitors - First Command (Part 4)
News and Truth
|A| Air Patrol |A|
Darkness and Despair
The Torment of Arkane I
Reports of the Missing
Recovering the Missing
"Gotta start somewhere."
Hope shines in the Darkness.
War in the Temple of Love
Victory will be at any cost.
X Darkness Descending X
Entities of Sin Part 2: Cracked Shield and Shinalstin
Claws in the Dark (VIII)
To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 1)
Entities of Sin Part 3: Vigil
Entities of Sin Part 4: Shinalstin Catacombs
Blinded by Greed
Into the Abyss Part 1: Sloth and the Temple of Devion
Into the Abyss Part 2: Sloth and the Temple of Devion
Nightmares and Racing Thoughts
Seven Sins - Darkness
Seven Sins - Nightmares
To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 2)
X Hallowed Gold X
To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 3)
To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 4)
To Apprehend a Traitor - Aftermath of the Tribunal
Seven Sins - Tempting Wrath
Into the Abyss Part 3: Voices in the Dark
A quarrel
Entities of Sin Part 5: the Past that Binds
Generally Speaking
Into the Abyss Part 4: Voices in the Dark
Into the Abyss Part 5: A place at the table.
Into the Abyss Part 6: A place at the table.
Into the Abyss Part 7: A place at the table.
Into the Light
Entities of Sin Part 6: One Coin, Two Sides.
Entities of Sin: Part 7: Only a plank between one and perdition.
Entities of Sin: Part 8: Force your way.
A bard's tail
Not Alone: Patience 1/3
Seven Sins - Suffering
A Load of Bull
Out of the Darkness
The Lament of Temptation: part 1
The Lament of Temptation: part 2
Research and Plans - Sin Storyline
Life Is Tough
To Apprehend a Traitor - The Demon Interruption
Ministrations [I]
Demons of Sin - Moving
Seven Sins - Possessed by Pride
Not Alone: Patience 2/3
Sin: Aspect of Lust (Part 1)
Sin: Aspect of Lust (Part 2)
Sin: Aspect of Lust (Part 3)
Blood for Blood
Entities of Sin Part 9: Holy War Hath Begun.
Demons of Sin - Rise and Endure
Nothing Like a Good Joke
A Not-So-Gentle Ribbing (1/2)
A Not-So-Gentle Ribbing (2/2)
Entities of Sin Part 10: The Old Night
Entities of Sin Part 10: The Old Night (continued)
Seven Sins - Whatever It Takes
Seven Sins - Final Preparations
Sin: Lust returns
There Would be No Failure
Seven Sins - Fractured
Into the Abyss Part 8: Bringing in the Blade
Into the Abyss Part 9: Bringing in the Blade
Finding Courage
The Calm Before the Storm
Not Alone: Patience 3/3
No Bones About It
Coffee and Warnings
Rehabilitation
To Apprehend a Traitor - A Different Gem
Slow Endure
Research and exhaustion
Time Is Relentless (1 of 2)
Time Is Relentless (End)
Hangovers Are (Not) Fun
The past is what nightmares are made of?
Night Terrors
Multiple Fractures
Cheesecake for days
Believe
Believe - II
Discreet Inquiries
Backstory: The Training Exercise
Backstory: Saving Private Fuller (1/2)
Backstory: Saving Private Fuller (2/2)
Backstory: The "Dressing-Down" (1/2)
Backstory: The "Dressing-Down" (2/2)
Seeking Answers: The trip.
Seeking Answers: The trip through the jungle
Seeking Answers - First Things First
Seeking Answers - Wakey Wakey..
Demons of Sin: Aftermath I: Wrath is My Sin.
Time
Freedom
A Lesson in Humility - The Beginning
Falling
Blood for Blood
Demons of Sin: Aftermath II: Pride was my failing.
Claws in the Dark (IX)
Morning Musings
Demons of Sin: Aftermath III: Sloth was my path
Departure
Demons of Sin: Aftermath IV: Wrath rekindled.
To Apprehend a Traitor - Readying for the Attack
Remnant of the Kyorl (I)





Writer: Niskerist
Date Wed Mar 22 19:25:48 2017




Writer: Vashilore
Date Wed Mar 22 21:21:50 2017




Writer: Vashilore
Date Wed Mar 22 21:23:55 2017




Writer: Vashilore
Date Wed Mar 22 21:25:49 2017




Writer: Vashilore
Date Wed Mar 22 21:28:00 2017




Writer: Vashilore
Date Wed Mar 22 21:30:21 2017




Writer: Vashilore
Date Wed Mar 22 21:34:42 2017




Writer: Fender
Date Sat Mar 25 10:47:30 2017

To All Wargar Thaxanos Plike (Kyri RP Raije)

Subject "Raise Yer Mugs" - a drinking song by Fender Mallet



RAISE YER MUGS!
-a drinking song by Fender Mallet

Raise yer mugs!
Raise yer mugs!

Ye ain't gotta go nowhere
'Cept down to the fight,
Jes' gonner be twigs there
All full o' bark, but no bite!

Raise yer mugs!
Raise yer mugs!

Ye ain't gotta go too quick
'Cept down to the fight,
There be twenty knights to kick
In them tin can suits, so bright!

Raise yer mugs!
Raise yer mugs!

Ye ain't gotta hurry
'Cept down to the fight,
Got Storm Keepers to bury
Cause they done died o' fright!

Raise yer mugs!
Raise yer mugs!

Ye ain't gotta run lad
'Cept down to the fight,
The manor is mostly jes' mad
Cause their heads ain't right!

Raise yer mugs!
Raise yer mugs!

Ye ain't gotta rush
'Cept down to the fight,
Look un'er ever' rock an' bush
Cause 'Lust stays mostly outta sight!

Raise yer mugs!
Raise yer mugs!

Ye ain't gotta speed
'Cept down to the fight,
All them clavers done peed
Yellow robes instead of red, black or white!

DOWN YER MUGS!
DOWN YER MUGS!

WE ALL BE GOIN' NOW
DOWN TO THE FIGHT,
AIN'T GONNA FALL NOR BOW
CAUSE DRUNK DWARVES BE FULL O' MIGHT!




Writer: Kahlyn
Date Sat Mar 25 13:29:26 2017




Writer: Khalifa
Date Sun Mar 26 13:55:32 2017

To All marauders of Raije and Ironclad ( Imm Rp )

Subject Planting festival (pert one)


His eyes drooped. The wait was the worst part of it. The warmth of the fire
did nothing to help him remain awake. His neck weakened as his concentration
faded, and his head bobbed forward. He jerked himself awake at once. The
dark elf glanced at the High Priest, who eyeballed an hourglass and shook his
head.

Khalifa sighed loudly. Why he was forced to wait so long between jobs, he
would never understand. It would be easier just to keep working, drink a
little coffee perhaps, and stay awake. His eyes began to droop again. He
flipped open his journal and began to doodle on the back pages.

"Lo?"

Khalifa's head snapped up at once. He could hear someone shuffling through
the temple toward the High Priest's office. His mind finally off of the wait
between jobs, he stood up. Perhaps a more interesting job had found him.

"Hel-looo?"

"In here.", Khalifa said loudly.

The old man shuffled through the doorway. He looked at Khalifa, appraising
the young sailor, who happened to be the highest ranking official within the
fort's walls at the time. The man appeared to be a farmer. His tanned,
wrinkled face was topped with a worn straw hat. He wore overalls of faded
denim. They were the dull grayish-brown color that spoke of decades in the
fields and thousands of scrubbings. He strode directly up to Khalifa,
looking the hooded creature directly in the barely-visible eyes, and asked,
"Yer aware that tomorrow be the Planting Festival, aren't ya?"

Khalifa, who was aware of no such thing, nodded agreement and made a mental
note of the fact. "Well? What sort of thing is the fort going to do in
recognition?
"

"I am unaware of any such plans... Raijefest is months away, that's the one
we are most interested in.
"

The farmer studied the hooded figure for a moment, searching for humor in
the darkened face. "Yer serious? No celebration at All in honor of
planting day?
"

Khalifa squinted at the farmer. "Old-timer, this is Ironclad, we-"

"Ye would risk angering the gods? Famine? Drought? Fungus? Bug
infestations, low yields in general? How are you going to fight a war if
your army is starving, hmmm?
"

Khalifa mulled this over for a moment. "I see your point, old-timer."
They stared at each other in the heat and flickering light of the fireplace.

"I'll see what I can do."

The old farmer appraised the young elf a moment longer, hands on his hips.

"Hmmpf. I hope you do." He planted his cane and turned around,
shuffling out the way he came in.

Khalifa stared after him. This was getting rediculous, he thought. He was
still learning some of the finer details of his enchanting work. He had
taken on the duties of an officer, if not the title. Now he was getting
dragged into agricultural issues. And what's more, he was to come up with
something before tomorrow? He could feel a headache beginning to develop
behind his temples.

---TO BE CONTINUED---




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sun Mar 26 14:43:31 2017

To All marauders of Raije and Ironclad ( Imm Rp )

Subject Planting festival (part two)


Khalifa awoke on planting day and wandered around the fort. The place was
deserted, no-one of importance was anywhere to be seen. Oh, the usual
vendors and peacekeepers, but no-one well known. "Hmmmpf" He supposed
he could get his green thumb going after all- he had an idea.

He stood on a watchtower, looking at the lay of the land west of the fort.
He held his journal out in front of him in his left hand, flat on his palm
like a painter would hold his pallette. He gazed at the land and allowed
his write hand to glide lightly over the journal, sketching the basic lay
of the land. He then held the journal up in front of his face and added a
row of XXX here, and another one there. A third over here... He stood back
and admired the portrait. Tactical shrubbery, he thought. It was as good
a name as any.

---

The dark elf knelt in the grass surrounded by rusty gardening tools. The
sheepsnut bushes he had found were nearly perfect for the job. Dense, hardy,
and covered with razor-sharp thorns. They were named so for the fruit they
bore. A bitter, tough, walnut-sized stone covered in coarse white fibers.
The bush took hard, careful work to plant, and Khalifa had had thirty of
them to get into the ground. They would force any approaching the fort into
a rough zig-zag path toward the gate, slowing them down at two choke-points,
and affording the fort's archers more time to eliminate any potential
threats. There were three left.

He stood, knees popping audibly. He winced at the tightness in his lower
back. He wasn't used to this sort of work. He didn't particularly plan to
get used to it either. He admired his handiwork. First a funnel, then a
series of barriers made of sheepsnut. They would be effective come reap,
and fully grown in a year or two. He got back to work, planting the last
of the bushes. He stood and emptied his canteen on the last bush.

Khalifa put his hands behind his back and stretched. This brought on a yawn.

"So much for a festival."


-The end-




Writer: Khalifa

Date Mon Mar 27 19:41:32 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part one)


The Cutlass glided slowly past the dock, and our commander, the acting
Captain, Sailor Khalifa le Kraken did his fancy lariat trick again, much to
the amusement and cheering of the troops. Khalifa knew a thing or two of
the benefits of high morale, and being a good looking, vain dark elf, he
knew a thing or two about showmanship as well. He performed a neat bow as
the rope reached its tightest and then became slightly slack.

Khalifa stood on the gangplank, blocking their exit. His arms were still
outstretched from his showy bow. His smile was wide, almost lunatic, and
completely genuine. He looked at his crew, his troops, his admirers, and
lowered his hands. He folded them in front of him and addressed the men.

"Soon, we sail again, this time with a real mission."

The cheers and the side-jabbing and the congratulatory conversation halted
immediately. The men stood, rapt, listening intently, wondering the nature
of their mission, the reality of it finally sinking in. They were sailors,
fighting for Raije, for the fort, for their Highlord. Their new mission,
their new purpose was about to be revealed. The excitement was
palpable. The elf's yearning for purpose had rubbed off on them, and they
were eager to learn theirs.

"We depart from here in a few days. We will sail eastward, following the
coast.
"

Ironclad's port was some distance from their capitol, accessed mainly by the
magical portals. They would leave the Fort through a portal, arriving at the
Sea Cave on the northern shore. Then they would sail around the coast and
toward the Fort itself.

"We will sail eastward along the coast, to approximately the opposite end
of the continent from where we are now. Kol'gosh Port, in the Kol-Garras
territory is where we dock.
"

A low murmur spread through the men. They knew the Highlord was interested
in regaining control of All the Fort's territories. This sounded like a
boring scouting mission, but they'd also heard rumors of potential
resistance, which was exciting. The general consensus was that it would be
good practice for a real invasion. The men were pleased.

"When we arrive at Kol'gosh, we march north through Kol-Garras, almost to
Wolverhylle, then we hook to the west to the northermost point of T'pal Mal.
I believe this will be high enough ground to begin a detailed plan to scout
the territory. We've All heard the rumors, we know there is an unknown
amount of resistance to be expected. We will treat this as we would a
scouting mission in a foreign land. Liebert here is a cartography scholar.
We will be creating the only detailed map of this territory. This-"
Khalifa shook the paper map he held in his left hand. "- is the only
known map of T'pal Mal, and of course, All we have is a boundary line inside
the Ironclad Territories map.
"

The men were absorbing the information silently, storing the important bits
away in their heads as a soldier is trained to do. They were eager, by
Raije, they were going on a real mission. There might even be battle.
They were salty.

"Be here at noon, in three days. You are dismissed until then. Be over
your hangovers when you show up.
"

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Mon Mar 27 19:44:18 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part two)


Khalifa sat in the library, reading about the precepts of Raije. A
necklace, bearing the sigil of Drakkara, lay on the table in front of him.
The elf was reading about the concept of loyalty. Victory was next. He
was enthralled by the simplicity and honor of the precepts of the god of war.

Courage, Loyalty, and Victory. Not buzzwords, not a punchline, but words of
purpose. Khalifa was drawn to them. War was an inevitability, a certainty.
To be prepared for war is to be prepared to win a war. To win a war while
adhering strictly, nay, while following the precepts of Raije, now that
was an honorable goal.

Khalifa re-read a line and scribbled a note in his breastpocket notepad. He
thought for a moment and scribbled a few more lines underneath, before
returning to his reading.

It wasn't so much a question of "Would he follow Raije?", but more of a
question of "How long will he pretend to follow Drakkara while living by
the precepts of Raije?
" He thought long and hard before coming to this
conclusion, and decided that the gods hate a coward. "MEZLAK!" he
bellowed.

"I need to speak with you on a matter of great importance, Warlord."

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Mon Mar 27 19:46:34 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part three)


Khalifa emerged from the church of Raije, squinting at the noonday sun. The
meeting with Mezlak had gone well. He had declared his fealty to the god of
war, and generated a missive to be posted on All the public boards declaring
such. He was expecting to be visited by Drakkara now, since he'd begun his
attempts to gain the attention of Raije. He was prepared to be shunned, to
be denied the entirety of his skills and powers.

Khalifa was prepared to accept the consequence, the punishment for admitting
that he had chosen poorly. He was prepared to accept it because of the
understanding that he could not possibly have known when he chose his god
that eighty years later, he would mature into a warrior. He had grown from
infancy, believing that scholarship was his true calling. To study and to
learn and become superior through increased knowledge-

But no, he had become a warrior, was becoming an officer, a leader of men
in the service of Raije. He was proud of the journey he had made, proud to
be a new follower of the god of war. He had already begun to formulate great
plans in his mind for his future within the Fort. He believed strongly that
he could use his own personal strengths to glorify Raije, perhaps even to
increase the power of Ironclad to exert Raije's will upon Algoron, to settle
conflict across the globe with honorable battle.

Khalifa squinted in the sun, then turned around and went back into the dark
temple, resuming his prayers with renewed intensity.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Mon Mar 27 19:59:29 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part four)


Khalifa stood before the troops, his Drakkaran sigil conspicuously
missing from around his neck. He declared loudly:

"Today we sail! "

The troops began to cheer.

"Tomorrow, we march! "

The applause renewed, the whistles and verbal cheers becoming louder- They
could tell, of course. There was an aura about him, or perhaps a lack of
one. It was evident that he had lost the favor of his god, but the troops
already knew about that. He had pledged his life to Raije, it was evident
in his every move. Now that Drakkara had deserted him- no, now that she had
responded to his desertion, he would be eager to gain the attentions of
Raije. They were expecting, or perhaps just hoping, that that fact meant
certain battle for them. This was the reason for their vigorous applause.
That, and, it was a pretty good trick.

Khalifa allowed them their applause, his hands in the air, a wide smile on
his face. They were pumped up, excited, ready to take on the world. That
was just where he wanted them.

"As I told you before, we must be prepared to react as if we were invading a
foreign territory. But we are not invading a foreign territory. This is
Ironclad's protectorate, and the citizens there are our own. If there is
resistance, we put it down. If there is not, we treat the citizens with the
respect they deserve.
"

This was greeted with sober murmurs from the troops. They wanted an enemy,
and their captain was making it clear that he was not necessarily providing
them with one, and that they would be expected to use superior moral
judgement.

He continued to speak to the troops for another quarter of an hour before
ordering them to board the ship and resume their stations. Khalifa boarded
the ship behind them, turned and saluted the Highlord, who stood in the
shadows, nearly unobserved. He barely caught the glint of dark metal in the
shadows as she returned his salute. A neat about-face, and he was marching
purposefully toward the wheelhouse.

"ANCHOR UP, SAILS DOWN, TRIM FULL! " he bellowed as he mounted the steps to
the wheelhouse.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Mon Mar 27 20:02:08 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part five)


Thruk'tar leaned over the rail of the lighthouse, peering out at the silver
line between the sooty sea and the orange horizon. He puffed on his clay
pipe, inhaling deeply on the Arkanian Black tobacco. Thruk'tar the
toothless, they called him. He was anything but toothless, a mouth full of
jagged edges waiting to rend flesh from bone. He had one ten-inch tusk on
the left, and one broken stub of a tusk on the right, hence the nickname.

Thruk'tar bore the sigils of Raije on his clothing, on his jewelry, in his
tattoos. He had sworn All of his weapons and armor to the god of war, and
his stature was a testament to his dedication to preparation for battle.
His long gray hair was braided in cornrows, and hung below his shoulders.
His aged flesh wrinkled and hung in wattles in some places. He was a
veteran, retired from battle for ten years, an orc at the end of his life,
but still dedicated to Raije. He had volunteered to maintain the crumbling
lighthouse. A foolish pursuit, according to some, but it was an asset of
the kingdom, and therefore of Raije, and it was the closest such asset to
his home, and so, in the absence of any other caretaker, he assumed the
position. His favorite part of the job was the sunsets. He never missed a
sunset, even in bad weather, he watched from inside. He always smoked the
Arkanian Black, and always in the ratty old tavern pipe he had stolen from
Tull.

This fine evening, he was admiring a clear sunset on a calm sea. A classic,
he thought, one that adorned thousands of paintings around Algoron. Not
quite his favorite, he preferred the sunset of the approaching storm, but
this was a good one, he had to admit. It was about to get better.

---

With magewind, it had taken them a matter of hours to sail around the coast.
Khalifa, their acting captain, piloted them expertly through the shallowest
of waters around the continent. Khalifa stood at the wheel, hood up, green
eyes shining from behind the black cowl, scanning the horizon, constantly
making minute course corrections with the wheel. His cloak billowed behind
him as he navigated the windy coastal waters.

As they approached the peninsular region of Kol-Garras, Khalifa finally
allowed the magewind to fall, and then bellowed for the sails to be trimmed
to half.

The ship slowed from breakneck to a lazy, careless speed. Its sails half-
reefed, Marauder colors flying, she was a vision as she approached the
harbor.

---

Thruk'tar raised the spyglass to his face and was mildly surprised to see a
lone ship approaching the harbor. It was still distant. A small ship,
perhaps a sloop or even a personal yacht. It was too far too see the
colors, but he would soon- gods, it was moving fast. The monotusked orc
watched as the ship approached at an unnatural speed and then suddenly
slowed to a more reasonable pace. It was a scout ship, and the colors-
"Ha!"

It was surprised out of him. The Marauders were back. This was excellent
news. They hadn't been seen around here in ages, and some of the rebel talk
had reached even to Kol-Garras, an honorable land.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Kahlyn

Date Mon Mar 27 22:16:28 2017




Writer: Mezlak

Date Wed Mar 29 19:23:31 2017

To Marauders Mahazi Aeriset All ( Raije Imm RP Religion Tashio )

Subject Hunting Traitors - The Arrival (Part 1)



Mezlak looked upon the town. The remainder of his command waited with
him just inside a growth of trees within sight of the south gate. That was
the point where his son had entered just before dawn, so Mezlaks scouts that
had followed Mahazis squad had informed him.

Mezlak studied the gate and watched closely. He could tell the soldiers
behind him were eager to follow the lead squad. Now wasnt the time though.
Mezlak hadnt envisioned this stealthy approach. He wanted the people of
Fiddichport to know who was coming and who was in charge. This way had
potential though, and Mezlak had quickly altered his plan to suit the
situation. This way may even work better.

It was just as the sun was coming up that Mezlak heard the alarms sounding
in the town. He picked up his shield in his left hand and drew his
broadsword. It was time to make his move.

Move on the gate. Wait until we are inside to unfurl the banners. Ive got
something special in mind for our entrance.
The knights nodded then
mounted their warhorses and went to see to their commands. Mezlak put the
finishing touches on the spell hed been preparing for since he arrived.
This should get everyones attention.

As the Marauders moved on the gate, the three giant ogres that were a part
of his command began getting ahead of everyone else. A benefit of their
only having to take one step to everyone elses two, Mezlak noted. Oddly
enough even ahead of the ogres was a dwarf Mezlak could only assume was a
former battlerager from Thaxanos. He carried two axes, and Mezlak was
fairly certain the dwarf had drunk a half barrel of ale this morning before
the march. The dwarfs zeal for battle was catching and the entre command
was beginning to quicken their pace. It was time to unleash the surprise
hed been preparing for a couple hours now.





Writer: Mezlak

Date Wed Mar 29 19:28:54 2017

To Marauders Mahazi Aeriset All ( Raije Imm RP Religion Tashio )

Subject Hunting Traitors - The Arrival (Part 2)



As the Marauders neared the southern gate, Mezlak unleashed the spell,
and the gate and twenty yards of the wall erupted in an explosion of holy
flames big enough and loud enough to be seen and heard miles away.

The men needed no command. They could All clearly tell that was the signal.
And at once they All began to charge the gate, letting the Marauder banners
they carried fly and shouts of Raije! And Marauders! Being shouted over
the echoes of the explosion. The giant ogres quickly outpaced everyone and
made entrance through the gap in the wall, leading the charge. Everyone
except for the dwarf, that is. Grimdur Mithrilmane, Mezlak believe his name
was, part of the first company.

The explosion had the effect Mezlak desired. It had caught everyones
attention and was drawing guards to the gate. The body being thrown through
the air from one of the ogres was evidence enough of that.

The attacker came right at Mezlak, screaming a challenge as soon as he came
into view of Mezlak and his attacking force. The man was fearless, but
inexperienced. Attacking a superior force head on like that. Using his
sword hand to add strength, Mezlak deflected the mans attack away with his
shield. The swinging block was so strong and unexpected that Mezlaks
attacker was spun around, exposing his back to Mezlak. Then with a fluid
motion, Mezlak cut back down across the attackers back. It wasnt a fatal
blow, but the man would never walk again as Mezlak felt his sword strike
through vertebrae. He then switched his sword to a reverse grip and gave
the man a merciful death, plunging his sword through the mans chest as he
lay face down in the road.

Tohmahs and Bhohrs, the two knights, approached him. It was Tohmahs, the
senior of the knights, who gave the report the gate was secure. Tohmahs,
take the second company and sweep and secure the town. Bhohrs, take the
remainder of first company and regroup with the Privates squad, then
rendezvous with me at the Manor house. Let All know its the Marauders who
come. Secure All who throw down their weapons. Kill any who dont. But
bring me the captain of the guard and as many of the ruling family as you
can find, alive.


But, Warlord, you cant mean to proceed alone. Mezlak didnt notice which
knight spoke, he had his back to them as he stood watching his command
spread out and secure the area around the gate, archers taking positions
high up where they could control the battle with their arrows.

Mezlak sighed, dropped his shield and reached towards the gate, drawing some
holy flame left burning from his explosion to him and forming it into an
elemental. Do you honestly think Im completely helpless? Go. Do your
jobs.
Mezlak heard them salute then shout orders to their companies as he
bent down to pick up his shield and started off to the manor house.





Writer: Trysarna

Date Fri Mar 31 15:21:18 2017




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sat Apr 1 10:34:17 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part six)


"Watch me.", said Fjosk, tossing a pair of kings on the table. His
brother, Fjoll bellowed laughter while Throg'nir stared blandly at the
disappearing act that his money was doing in front of him. The trio of
bulky, mohawked Orcs looked fearsome, but they were loyal, peaceful
customers, retired veterans who kept mostly to themselves, but had also kept
the place safe on more than once occasion when other, less honorable patrons
became violent.

Fjoll emptied the pitcher of Eastern Lager into Throg'nir's stein, bellowing
laughter as he did so. Griz, the bartender, carried a new one over himself,
wiping the table down for his best customers. Thruk'tar reached around the
bartender from behind and grabbed the pitcher. Out of breath, he held his
right hand up in the air, index finger up, and took three deep breaths
before draining the pitcher in one large gulp.

The monotusked behemoth spun a chair around, sitting immediately on it,
backwards, the excitement making him twenty years younger. He opened his
mouth, noticing the bartender over his shoulder. He stopped himself,
dismissed the bartender, and began to speak. "The Marauders are back."

Thruk'tar leaned over the back of the chair, grinning openly. Throg'nir was
staring at him, mouth open, head cocked to the side. It was surprising, of
course, the fleet hadn't been seen here in years. "Bur'gol dur.", he
exclaimed under his breath. "Tell me more." The brothers just stared,
curiously.

A small crowd gathered around the Veterans' table as Thruk'tar told the
story. "They're sailin up to port right now.", he finished.

"Morgok. Let's go then."

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sat Apr 1 10:37:56 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part seven)


Khalifa stood at the wheel, watching the coastline draw closer. The sleepy
port of Kol'gosh was preparing for another eventless night. The sun was just
about to meet the horizon behind him, and he was about to move to phase two
of his mission.

He was only slightly less sure about his success in this mission, now that he
had lost his access to his magical abilities. Hell, it may prove to be a
challenge. Good.

'Courage', he thought.

'Loyalty. Victory.'

He made a brief prayer to Raije, wondering if the god of war had taken notice
of the mission he was undertaking. His eyes on the approaching docks, he
ordered the sails lowered.

---

"Uh, sir?"

Liebert looked scared. Khalifa nodded at him, smiling his eerie little
smile, telling the young sailor with his eyes to just chill the hell out.
The dock was lined with orcs. Half of them had torches, but they All had
blades.

Khalifa mounted the gangplank, and began to descend. A heavily tattoed orc
with a battle-scarred face and steely gray cornrows met him at the bottom of
the plank. He stood straight, chest out, looking down on the cloaked figure,
grasping a rather large axe.

The dark elf looked up at him. "Hail, servants of Raije. We are the
Marauders.
"

The orcs All voiced approval at this. Thruk'tar knelt and touched his
clenched fist to his forehead. His old knees popped as he knelt.
"Grun'tush, Marauder. Krun'tok. I am Thruk'tar, chief of the Mor'gnaol
batallion. Retired.
"

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sat Apr 1 10:44:20 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part eight)


Liebert paced back and forth on the small ship's deck. Khalifa had placed
him in command before joining the party of orcs and disappearing into the
small port town. The captain had appeared confident, but his first mate was
worried. He had placed 4 men on watch, one in the crow's nest, and ordered
the rest of the crew to sleep, in preparation for tomorrow's march. He
peered out into the darkness and resumed his pacing.

---

"Another round!"
Throg'nir bellowed at the bartender. Others cheered at his declaration.

Khalifa lounged in his chair, stretched out comfortably, with a tall glass
of cabernet in his left hand. He sipped smoke from a cracked and browning
clay pipe. Griz carried four pitchers of ale over to the large table, two
in each meaty fist. He set them down on the table, and spread them out in
front of the guests. Khalifa slowly exhaled thin smoke, and continued his
story.

"And the maiden says- 'But this one is eating my popcorn!'"

The veterans All erupted with laughter. Khalifa tossed his hood back,
feeling the warmth of the alcohol. Thruk'tar examined his smooth young face.
He didn't look like much of a warrior to the aging orc. Khalifa allowed
himself to be examined. He had divulged the very basics of his mission to
the orcish batallion leader, and Thruk'tar had promised him an intel report
before they began their march.

"I'm relatively new to Ironclad, you see. I know we are atoning for the
sins of Traice, but I was not personally around to experience his rule.
"

Thruk'tar the toothless nodded. "There are none of his supporters left
in Kol-Garras, as far as I'm aware. We drove the last of them out, months
ago. We chased them out of the territory. I have no doubt that some of the
rebels you seek have made T'pal Mal their home.
"

Khalifa withdrew a folded piece of parchment from beneath his cloak, and
showed it to the orc. "Now... tell me you have a better map of the area
than this.
"

Thruk'tar looked genuinely surprised. "Dak. Of course we do. The fort
has them too, or used to.
"

"Aye. Some records were stolen or destroyed in the chaos following the
betrayal.
"

"We'll have detailed maps for you in the morning as well."

"Now, one final peice of business before I return to my ship- Do you have
a local priest of Raije? I would like to speak with him.
"

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sat Apr 1 18:42:58 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part nine)


(Eight days later)

Khalifa stood, painfully. He used his right arm exclusively for support to
stand. The bandage was slowly turning red, but the bleeding had more or less
stopped. His left arm was in a sling to help keep it immobile.

Khalifa wavered slightly on his feet. He closed his eyes and grabbed at the
table he'd been laying on. Liebert stood ready to grab his captain if he
fell. The acting captain's face was pale and strained. He shooed his first
mate away and willed his strength back. He opened his eyes and walked
confidently to the empty powder-barrel he was using for a desk. Sitting
stiffly on the stool in front of the barrel, he motioned for Liebert to join
him.

"How do you feel, sir?"

"Like a million eggs, Liebert." He looked frail sitting there, bare-
chested, and Liebert fetched him his cloak without being asked. He helped his
captain into it, taking care to drape the left side gently over his shoulder
bandage.

"Thank you, Liebert." Khalifa reached instinctively into his cloak,
pulling out a worn leather pouch. He fetched a tobacco leaf, still slightly
green in the middle, and began to sprinkle some well-ground leafy substance
into it. He rolled it expertly, one-handed, and asked for a light. He was
finally getting used to the idea of having to make fire the old fashioned way
for his smoke-- his access to magic had been stripped from him for nearly a
month. Liebert fetched a candle and set it on the table in front of his
commanding officer. Khalifa drew deeply, holding the precious smoke in his
lungs.

Leibert had seen it before, but he was still taken aback every time the acting
captain did it. He thought maybe Khalifa was amused by his reaction and that
drove him to continue- The wounded dark elf exhaled through his nose. Green
eyes shining out from the darkness of his hood, and smoke flowing out in
seperate streams from his nostrils. It was a little eerie.

"They'll catch him." He looked his first mate in the eyes. "They'll
bring him back here, or part of him anyway.
"

Khalifa threw his hood back. The color had returned to his face and he
looked like himself again. He noticed Liebert's stare and grinned. "Not
all magic comes from a spellbook, Liebert.
" He held the pouch under his
first mate's nose. "Curtesy of Zandreya. Natural medicine. Ask a druid.
Or a shaman. The pain is already fading.
"

Liebert nodded and passed the pouch back across the barrel. "Aye sir."

Khalifa opened his journal and flipped back a few pages, scribbling notes in
the margins.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sat Apr 1 18:47:54 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part ten)


Khalifa re-read through the last couple of pages in his journal. He was glad
that he had been trained to take such careful notes. He gently removed a
blank page from deep within the book and taped it in between two fully-
written pages. He would remove the tape and fuse it to the binding somehow
if he ever got his magic back.

(Three days ago)

Khalifa crept on his belly through wet grass. He followed a wild elf who
could barely be seen in the brush, not three feet in front of him. The
ranger moved silently and Khalifa had to work to keep up and not lose his
camoflauged guide. A faint whistle caught his attention. Friedrict had
stopped in front of him. He crawled up next to the ranger, and peered
through a bush.

The woods ended here. An extensive pasture rolled gently downhill from the
observers. A healthy, rolling creek wound its way through the greenery,
into the distance. The pasture was in a low valley, surrounded by gently
rolling hills on one side, and steeper hills on the other. The valley was
at least a hundred acres, and surrounded by thick trees.

"{nThis is as far as I go while they live.
", Friedrict informed him.
"{nIf you're successful... I might want that ranch.
"

"How many?" Khalifa ignored the comment, he had plans for the ranch.

"{nMore than a dozen. Probably less than two.
"

"Disciplined?"

"{nThey seem well trained, but their discipline here has become lax. They
are soft. They have turned to brigandry and they have run unchallenged
since being driven from Kol-Garras.
"

They lay in the grass together, silently, watching the valley. Sheep dotted
the greenery. A sprawling lake lay like a jewel in the center of the
valley. Two homes and several barns lined the lake on its east bank. Two
men fished from a canoe in the center of the lake. Khalifa watched for ten
minutes, looking for movement. He spotted four guards, All within a couple
hundred yards of the buildings clustered around the lake. Well trained, as
the ranger had told him, but soft.

Finally, they squirmed their way backwards through twenty yards of brush,
meeting Roogin and Torston, and their ponies. "{nGood luck. We will be
better off, being rid of them.
"

Khalifa and the dwarves mounted their ponies and set a course through the
woods toward camp.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sun Apr 2 15:33:54 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part eleven)


It was nearly dawn. There was a crisp chill in the air, and a thin scrim of
frost coated the grass. The usual four guards were out, but two of them sat
on the dock, smoking and conversing softly. A third stood at the treeline,
watching the valley as he was trained to do. The fourth had ducked into an
outhouse twenty minutes ago.
Liebert heard the signal, a sharp whistle, and watched as three teams quickly
and silently took the guards they were assigned. The guard at the treeline
disappeared into the brush as if he had never been there. One guard, a
skulking goblin with a greasy black goatee, saw a shadow approach him on the
dock and turned just as a dark figure emerged from the black water and pulled
the second down into the muck. The goblin opened his mouth to call out, and
an arrow found his temple. A lithe felar slipped unseen into the outhouse,
returning barely a second later, carrying a dripping human head by its
dreadlocks.

The assault teams returned quickly and silently to their rendezvous points,
tossing the gathered heads into a burlap bag. "Now, you resume the watch.
Do a better job than they did, if you want a different outcome.
"
Khalifa watched the guards take their positions, before holding up his hand
and signalling the crew to follow him to the barn.

---

There were six men in the barn, All lower ranks, All sleeping deeply after
an evening of mead and whiskey. The majority of the crew of the Cutlass
slipped silently, single-file into the barn, where in every instance, a team
of two marauders seperated the head of a rebel from his body. Khalifa
handed a bearded head over to Roogin, who he had teamed up with for this one.

"Now, team two, take the two-story. Team one, we take the brick house."

They knew what they were doing, they had spent the entire previous day going
over the plan in great detail. They split up and went about their business.
Khalifa expected to see three or four in this house, just like the other.
They crept through the house in the dark, silently doing their work. There
was no honor in this work, but it had to be done. These men had turned to
brigandry, had murdered and assaulted and pillaged, and they had to be put
down.

That they were rebels against the fort was beside the point. These vermin
didn't deserve a real battle. Once the house was clear, they filed
carefully out the front door, carrying roughly spherical trophies.

The other team was filing out of the two-story farmhouse a moment later.
"Clear All the outbuildings and set up a perimiter. I'll be inside."
He turned and re-entered the brick house, lighting the candles in the living
area, and finding a comfortable seat.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sun Apr 2 15:36:19 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part twelve)


The men were gathered in front of the sprawling brick home. Khalifa stood
on the porch, his hands on the rail. "The rebels are finished!"

The men cheered, loudly. Khalifa waited for the applause to die down.

"May the next mission include an actual battle."

Several of the men murmured agreement to this. The massacre hadn't fulfilled
their need for battle, in the least.

"Team two, you are on watch. Team one, get the bodies out of the houses and
rest up.
"

"DISMISSED!"

The men went about their duties, and Khalifa sat on the porch swing with a
cup of coffee. He pulled a worn leather pouch from his cloak and began
rolling a smoke. He began planning the next few hours out as he watched the
horizon turn from black to purple. When the sun rose over the trees, he
retrieved his journal from beneath his cloak and began to write.

--

After he was finished recording the mission's success, Khalifa summoned his
first mate, navigator, and cartography specialist, and finished his smoke
while he waited.

"Aye, sir?"

"Let's go for a ride."

"Aye, sir."

There were 19 horses in the barn, unsurprising since they had 19 heads in
three burlap bags, also in the barn. Khalifa and Liebert each picked their
mount and saddled up. They crossed the valley at an exhilarating speed, the
horses happy to stretch their legs. The crisp morning air in his face woke
him up, refreshing him from the long night's activities. They galloped
across the rim of the valley, twenty yards from the treeline. Khalifa gave
his mare a nudge and she let it out another notch. The beast flexed, muscles
rippling beneath him. The horse veered to the right toward the steep
hillside as if accustomed to a particular route. Khalifa allowed the mare
to choose her own course. She raced into a break in the trees that Khalifa
couldn't see until it was in front of him. She slowed to a trot to navigate
the tricky path up the steep hill. After a few minutes of exhilarating
climbing, they came to a clearing at the top of a plateau overlooking his new
valley.

Khalifa dismounted and pointed at the matted grass. "A bedroll was here,
not long ago. Someone was up here watching us last night.
" Was probably
still watching them from the trees nearby. "Interesting."
Liebert said nothing. Khalifa was standing atop the edge of the cliff,
looking down on the ranch. Belina, the fort's new cattle rancher, would make
a fine steward of this land. The ranch would flourish under her management,
he was sure. The sheep were a nice bonus, the wool would help him in his
tailoring apprenticeship.

Liebert was making notes in his journal, sketching a bit, making notes
with highly accurate approximations of distance. The lake was in the center
of the valley. It stretched most of the distance across the valley, from
one steep dirt bank under a leafy canopy, to within a hundred yards of the
opposite treeline. There, two houses with several barns between them made up
the distance from the lake to the treeline. Pasture extended north and south
of the lake.

Khalifa sat patiently, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye toward
the trees nearest where the grass had been matted down by a bedroll. So far,
nothing. They sat like this for an hour, it was a great vantage point, and
Liebert methodically sketching, calculating, writing descriptions of the
land.

At long last, in the mid-morning, they mounted up and headed back to the
ranch.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sun Apr 2 15:37:26 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part thirteen)


Khalifa had resumed his position on the porch swing. He was drinking iced
tea and eating a bacon sandwich. It was early in the afternoon and they
would be leaving in the morning, most of them anyway. He looked up at the
plateaux they had visited that morning, not for the first time that day.

This time, he saw a man on horseback, looking back at him. The man waved,
but did not move. Khalifa stood.

"LIEBERT!", he yelled, "Let's go for a ride."

---

Liebert led the four up the trail to the plateaux. He was followed closely
by Liebert, Chonsson, Roogin and Torston. As they passed into the clearing,
Khalifa recognized the ranger who had led them here, Friedrict.

"{nGreetings, Khalifa.
"

Khalifa and his men dismounted. Khalifa approached the ranger and sat in
front of him. "You've been watching us."

"{nYes, well, I didn't want to be confused with the rebels-
"
"Of course. But what do you want? Our business was concluded, was it
not?
"

"{nI want to talk about the ranch,
" Friedrict said.

This again. Khalifa peered at him silently. He already had plans for the
ranch. "Do you have a legitimate claim to the ranch? Did the rebels take
it from you?
"

Friedrict shook his head. "{nNo, I worked for Johannson. I sheared his sheep
the last ten years or so. He was going to leave the place to me.
"

"I see. And I assume you can provide some proof of that somewhere? A will,
perhaps?
"

"{nNo, I don't have anything like that.
"

"Friedrict, part of my mission is to find a ranch big enough to provide
beef to Fort Ironclad. This is the ranch. There will be a hundred head of
cattle arriving here in the next few weeks, and this is now property of Fort
Ironclad. If you have no legitimate claim on the land, there is nothing I
can do for you.
"

He looked the ranger in the eye, gauging his response. Friedrict remained
silent. Khalifa stood abruptly and said "Then we are done here? I expect
you to leave this land and camp elsewhere tonight.
"

He turned and faced his men. "Gentlemen? Let's go back to the ranch."
They began to climb aboard their mounts, and as Khalifa was reaching for his,
he was knocked to the ground by a terrible force. The breath was knocked out
of him and he landed on his face in the grass. A poisoned spear impaled him
through his left shoulder, pinning him to the ground. Liebert was the first
to see it, shouting at the others. The ranger had already disappeared.

Torston, Chonsson, and Roogin All chased after the ranger, knowing they would
likely be unable to track him through the woods. Liebert knelt by his
gasping captain and struggled to free him from the spear. Khalifa cried out
in pain, shouting at Liebert. "All at once, yank it HARD!"

Liebert grasped the spear in both hands and yanked it out of the ground.
Khalifa shrieked in pain and pushed himself up off the ground with the spear.

(---To Be Continued---)




Writer: Khalifa

Date Sun Apr 2 15:39:01 2017

To All Marauders of Raije and the Fort

Subject **T'pal Mal** (Part fourteen)


Khalifa had finished his furious scribbling, and begun to roll another smoke.
His pain had returned. Liebert motioned toward the bandage. "I think it
may be time for a fresh one.
" The blood had reached the outer edges of the
bandage. Khalifa looked down at it. "Yes, perhaps in a bit. Let the medic
finish his nap though, it's fine.
"

He looked around the barn, enjoying the aroma of straw and dirt and horse.
The barn doors were wide open on either end, and he could see a pair of men
guarding each door. The four guards plus Liebert, Khalifa, and one medic-
They were at the ranch. Chonsson, Roogin, and Torston had given immediate
chase after the attack. The ten remaining were giving chase, searching for
the three marauders and the wild elf.

He looked at the bloody table where the medic had removed the spear and sewn
him up. The blood had soaked into the dirt already beneath the table.
He finished rolling his smoke, biting the tobacco leaf on the end to release
the flavors, and began to smoke again.

---

(One day later)

Khalifa rocked slowly on the porch swing, sipping iced tea and watching for
his men. He reflected on how much he hated waiting. He watched the pasture,
willing his crew to appear, and then to his surprise, they did, riding hard
toward the ranch, pouring like water out of an unseen hole in the trees.

When they arrived at the house, Khalifa learned of the news. They had found
Torston, Roogin, and Chonsson a mile out, slaughtered and beheaded. Of the
ranger, there was no sign. Khalifa wrote as they spoke.

"We leave in the morning. I want four volunteers to stay. Guard the land,
keep the sheep alive. The cattle and the new rancher will arrive in a matter
of weeks. I expect the ranch to be safe, and ready for her. Friedrict will
have to wait for another day.
"

"We'll take three days to travel back to Kol-Garras, and sail home
immediately.
"

Five days later, the Cutlass sailed into the sea cave, adorned with 19 heads,
rotting on pikes.

-+-[THE END]-+-




Writer: Niskerist

Date Sun Apr 2 17:22:21 2017




Writer: Niskerist

Date Tue Apr 4 18:36:16 2017




Writer: Kahlyn

Date Wed Apr 5 20:14:42 2017




Writer: Vashilore

Date Thu Apr 6 10:17:07 2017




Writer: Vashilore

Date Thu Apr 6 10:20:22 2017




Writer: Vashilore

Date Thu Apr 6 10:23:25 2017




Writer: Vashilore

Date Thu Apr 6 10:27:51 2017




Writer: Vashilore

Date Thu Apr 6 10:33:04 2017




Writer: Mezlak

Date Thu Apr 6 11:19:18 2017

To Marauders Mahazi Aeriset All ( Raije Imm RP Religion Tashio )

Subject Hunting Traitors - Street Brawl (Part 1)



Mezlak had been making his way through the town, heading in the general
direction of the manor house. The distant sounds of fighting were slowly
dying down. He wasnt sure how long hed been on his own. He had difficulty
keeping track of time during a fight and he hadnt exactly been walking
directly towards the manor. Nor had he been slow about it either. Hed been
keeping off the main streets as much as possible. That had been as much of
a defensive move as the fire elemental he could still feel burning behind
him.

That wasnt the focus of his attention at the moment however. It was the
armed man in front of him. He really should have been letting the elemental
fight in front of him. There was no fun in that however. This man wasnt
particularly skilled. He wasnt even in the town guard, for his leather
cuirass was clearly antiquated and second hand. He was likely just some
civilian whod picked up a weapon to fight.

Mezlak had been on the defensive, not because of any particular skill on his
opponents behalf. It was to allow him to get more enjoyment out of the
fight. The mans blows were easy enough to block with his round shield. A
quick thrust or slash here and there just to keep his opponent from getting
to comfortable.

Itd been ages since Mezlak had this much fun. It was in these moments one
really truly was alive. The thought that at any second one wrong step or
one missed block could end it All somehow made everything more real. Colors
seemed brighter. Smells were stronger. This was living.

Mezlak really needed to be moving on, however. So he went on the offensive,
striking rapidly at the man. Using both his sword and shield to try and
land a blow on the man. Mezlak bashed and punched with the shield. He
slashed and stabbed with his sword. Somehow, in the flurry of Mezlaks
attack, one thrust that he never expected to land found flesh below the
bottom of the mans cuirass.

Mezlak stood there for a moment, eye to eye with his opponent as both men
were stunned by the turn of events. Mezlak had never intended the thrust to
find flesh. It had been merely a thrust to try and set up a killing blow.
Slowly he pulled his sword from the man and let him fall. The blow wasnt
immediately fatal. With any luck the man would live long enough to get to a
healer in the town. It was as Mezlak turned from his opponent to continue
on his way to the manor that his luck turned.




Writer: Mezlak

Date Thu Apr 6 11:28:16 2017

To Marauders Mahazi Aeriset All ( Raije Imm RP Religion Tashio )

Subject Hunting Traitors - Street Brawl (Part 2)



Everything seemed to happen at once. He didnt know where his elemental
went, but it was no longer right behind him. What was behind him, was a
member of the city guard. The guard already had his sword raised. Before
Mezlak could react the sword impacted his head, slicing from just above his
right ear to just above his right eye. If the sanctuary spell he had placed
on himself earlier hadnt absorbed most of the blow, Mezlak would have at
least lost his eye, if not been killed outright.

Mezlak was surprise how slow things suddenly seemed. It was quite the
paradox from just a half second ago. He fell backwards from the blow, but
the mere seconds it took for him to hit the ground stretched to minutes as
he felt the warm blood flowing from his wound. As he hit the ground, he
could hear each foot fall as his attacker running down the street. He could
hear he man shouting that he had killed the Warlord of the Marauders.

As he lay on the ground he could feel his blood flowing from his body. He
was surprised to discover the blow to his head wasnt the only place he was
bleeding from. He reached with his right hand, funny he didnt remember
dropping his sword, to find a deep cut on his right side below his rib cage.
As he raised his hand to his face to see the palm covered in red, he
realized his first opponent must have stabbed him at the same time Mezlak
delivered his own blow. He just hadnt felt the pain at that moment.

As his mind worked slowly to piece together the events of the last few
seconds, he came to the realization. He was losing a lot of blood. If he
didnt act soon hed bleed to death here in the street. Mezlak tried to move
and think fast, but his body was slow to respond and his head felt full of
fluff. Hed never been overly skilled in the healing arts, despite even
being a priest, but he knew he had to atleast stop the bleeding. He worked
as fast as he could, but everything still felt sluggish from the amount of
blood lost. What seemed like hours had passed, though it was likely less
than a minute, but Mezlak had finally stopped the bleeding, though hed not
been able to close the wounds yet.

**************************************************************

Mezlak was really lost on time now. Hed slowly, he couldnt force himself to
move much faster than a shuffle because of his wounds, made his way to just
across a small plaza from the manor house. Hed long ago dismissed his
elemental, lacking the strength to control such magic anymore. He could see
men at the house, but his vision had long ago gone so blurry that he couldnt
tell if they were Marauders or enemy forces. It mattered not either way
now. If they were not Marauders theyd likely kill him. If he didnt get
help soon, hed likely die anyway. It was time to take a leap of faith that
his son had completed his mission and secured the manor house by now.

Mezlak stepped from the shadow of the building and started shuffling towards
the manor, his sword tip drug along the street behind him before he could no
longer keep a hold of it. A few steps later he could no longer hang onto
his heavy shield as it too slips from his hand. A few more steps, nearly
halfway across the plaza, Mezlaks vision went completely black. One more
step. Then he fell, and was no longer aware of anything.




Writer: Kagetora

Date Thu Apr 6 20:34:19 2017




Writer: Kagetora

Date Thu Apr 6 20:38:15 2017




Writer: Kagetora

Date Thu Apr 6 20:40:01 2017




Writer: Kahlyn

Date Thu Apr 6 20:48:06 2017




Writer: Benthic

Date Thu Apr 6 21:41:37 2017




Writer: Khalifa

Date Fri Apr 7 09:56:37 2017

To All Marauders of Raije ( Imm Religion Rp Tashio )

Subject Pursuit of Faith (Part One)


Khalifa sat, reclined in his soft chair, enjoying the quiet. Candlelight
flickered dimly, the small flame dancing excitedly in a mild draft. He
rubbed at his left shoulder absently. The wound was taking its sweet time
to heal- he imagined it was due to his spiritual condition. He had been
without the gifts of the gods for some weeks now, having renounced Drakkara
in favor of the god of war.

Still unable to left his left arm past table-height, he was becoming
depressed. A man of purpose, Khalifa was driven to action, and sitting at
home, nursing a slow-healing wound was breaking him down. Taking advantage
of the mobility in his right arm, he grasped a rather plain glass carafe,
pouring wine into his glass, and into a puddle surrounding his glass on the
rough ironwood table.

The wine helped. It warmed him up from the inside, and after a while, even
his head began to feel better. His muscles began to loosen, and even the
pain in his back and shoulder faded some. He began to reflect on the
mission that had brought him this pain. The mission was a success, but the
loss of three of his men weighed heavily on him. Of course, it was
sometimes necessary to break a few eggs, and he suspected this would make
for an especially tasty omelet, but these men were under his command,
damnit, and bringing them All home was part of his duty as an officer of the
fort.

He fumbled through his journal, stopping at the page that his promotion
letter had been pasted to. 'Admiral Khalifa', he mumbled aloud. And still,
he thought, unable to attract the attention of Raije. Perhaps he should go
pick a fight with a battlerager. He chuckled at the thought, sending
another bolt of pain through his back. He stood, slowly, gingerly.

Blinking through the haze of strong red wine, he stumbled out the door, and
began to make his way abovedeck. It was time to go pray.

-+-(To Be Continued)-+-




Writer: Khalifa

Date Fri Apr 7 09:58:46 2017

To All Marauders of Raije ( Imm Religion Rp Tashio )

Subject Pursuit of Faith (Part Two)


The morning sun blinded him. He stood in the doorway, propping himself
up against the dizziness and the pain. His eyes remained closed, bright sun
shining through for several minutes until he felt he could open them. Bits
of quartz glittered on the walls of the sea-cave. The sun was shining
through the opening with such intensity, it was almost as if- 'Oh... ', he
murmured, remembering the wine. No matter. He disembarked the ship and
headed for the portals.

---

"Oahz", he said flatly. It was a habit that was deeply ingrained in him.
He hadn't been able to make a gate in what felt like years, but it was still
the first thing that occured to him when he wanted to go somewhere.

Sighing, he walked through the portal to the Arkanian public port.
Squinting at the renewed sunlight, he set out eastward toward a familiar
battleground. Moving slowly down the right side of the road, like a
crippled old man, he shuffled along. He was passed by several wagons on his
short journey, and by one matronly woman pushing a wheelbarrow full of
cabbages. His head began to ache.

As the sun reached its peak, he came within sight of the bindstone. "Almost
there
", he mumbled. Wishing for shade to rest in, he cursed the midday sun.
Shade or not, he was going to have to stop and rest, even being this close
to the altar. He sat down in the warm dirt, leaning up against the
bindstone. He peered to the northwest, seeing the battlefield and the altar
he was seeking. He had begun to make it a habit to pray to Raije from one
of his temples at least twice a day.

Yesterday he had prayed from the temple in Thaxanos, enduring the glaring
looks from the dwarven peacekeepers as he knelt. Today was the battlefield
altar. He could see the boulder marking the entrance- the skull and
crossbones carved into the rockseeming to laugh at him. His head began to
pound.

Khalifa stood, slowly, carefully, using the bindstone for support, and made
his way to Raije's altar, where he dropped to his knees again and began to
pray.

-+-(To Be Continued)-+-




Writer: Khalifa

Date Fri Apr 7 13:26:47 2017

To All Marauders of Raije ( Imm Religion Rp Tashio )

Subject Pursuit of Faith (Part Three)


He woke up in the dark, confused. His head was pounding and his mouth
felt like it was full of Bak'he sand. He groaned and reached for the carafe
next to his bunk. His fingers grazed it and set it to wobbling. He
grimaced and reached again, grasping it. He raised the carafe to his lips
and took one awful sip. "The hell with this-", he threw the carafe across
the tiny room, where it shattered against the door frame.

The Admiral forced himself to stand up and walk to the door. He prepared
himself for the glaring sunlight he had experienced the last time.
Squinting his eyes shut, he yanked on the door, only to be greeted by the
cool sea air, and the darkness of midnight.

Walking slowly, but with purpose, he went directly to the galley, where he
poured himself a large glass of water. After his fourth glass, he began to
feel better, but was beginning to feel bloated, so he sat down for a few
minutes, allowing the precious liquid time to seep into All the dry cracks
and crevices of his soul like the rain finds cracks in rocks to run into.

He needed to clear his head. This stupid injury and the resulting loss of
men had muddled his mind, just as his religious conversion was taking up
most of his attention as well. It was time to sweat some of this poison out
of his body. He bound the sling tightly to his body, immobilizing his left
arm further before disembarking the ship.

---

His head was worse now that when he had woken up. The sun had peeked over
the horizon an hour ago, and Khalifa was still jogging. He had thrown up
twice, and the taste was still in his mouth, but he was still going. He had
grown tired of his slow-healing injury. Tired of waiting for Raije to
notice him and grant his blessings to the Admiral. He would train the
injury away. It would hurt, but such was life. He pondered this as he
jogged up the coastline toward the public port of Arkania. He jogged
eastward, heading for home.

Passing the bindstone, he slowed for a moment and faced the altar to Raije,
snapped a quick salute, and resumed his easterly pace.

-+-(To Be Continued)-+-




Writer: Sammuel

Date Fri Apr 7 13:30:31 2017




Writer: Gavriel

Date Fri Apr 7 14:32:34 2017




Writer: Gavriel

Date Fri Apr 7 14:41:12 2017




Writer: Benthic

Date Wed Apr 12 00:11:40 2017




Writer: Rahal

Date Wed Apr 12 17:50:37 2017




Writer: Benthic

Date Thu Apr 13 00:56:16 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Fri Apr 14 03:21:02 2017




Writer: Sammuel

Date Fri Apr 14 07:20:54 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Fri Apr 14 08:33:56 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Fri Apr 14 08:35:16 2017




Writer: Rahal

Date Fri Apr 14 09:55:58 2017




Writer: Rahal

Date Fri Apr 14 10:00:04 2017




Writer: Rahal

Date Fri Apr 14 10:04:07 2017




Writer: Rahal

Date Fri Apr 14 10:09:04 2017




Writer: Sammuel

Date Fri Apr 14 14:53:48 2017




Writer: Sammuel

Date Fri Apr 14 15:15:07 2017




Writer: Nymaya

Date Sat Apr 15 12:04:41 2017




Writer: Zola

Date Mon Apr 17 03:48:23 2017

To All Sierus Narsh Iocaste Abaddon Gray_Church Immortals Fatale

Subject X Queenside Tournament X


Thirty-two pieces. Sixteen pawns, four rooks, four bishops, four
knights, two kings and, of course, two queens. One for each side of the
board. A game that was simple to learn yet took great practice,
intelligence, and strategy to properly master. And a favored activity of
the Deathscythe during his minimal downtime.


Chess.

His tournament had been organized partially out of a desire to find
excellent challengers to match his skill against, and partially out of a
desire to raise funds for the Temple expansions he'd been working the last
few years on. Naming and dedicating the tournament to the Queens of Abaddon
who Ruled from the Shadows was a stroke of genius, if he did say so himself.
Or it might have been, had greater participation been found.


As it was: himself, the fervent Undertaker Sierus, and a Brother and Sister
from the Gray Church. Old acquaintances of Zola. Not quite the grand
showing he'd wanted for the Queens, but it would suffice. Once their entry
fees had been collected (and some had more generously donated extra to spice
up the game) they began.


Narsh, the great yinn Protector of the Church, was a surprisingly formidable
chess player. Even with an early lead, Zola could do little more than
attempt to counter his strategy as both of them had their forces chipped
away piece by piece. Problem was, Narsh was only sacrificing pawns, while
they were destroying the bulk of Zola's elite forces. In the end, conceding
victory had been his only option, and he had toppled his king.


The follow-up match for Bronze was difficult for different reasons. The
Prioress Iocaste was typical of her kind in at least one respect, she was
unpredictable. Her moves made no sense. At first chalking it up to
inexperience, Zola was forced to re-evaluate midway through the match, and
take his own moves more carefully. Eventually, he had her on the run, to
her frustration, but she did not go down easily. He respected her
determination to fight to the end, bitter though it was.


And All the while, as Zola shifted a dark Knight forward or advanced his
black Queen, his thoughts shifted over another, grander game he was playing.
Considering the actions of pawns being manipulated across the field of
Algoron for a greater purpose. Xoknath, Benthic, Kyan, and others besides
them. Pieces on both sides of the board that were even now moving in a much
grander game with infinitely higher stakes.


In the end, Zola managed to claim only the bronze trophy he'd prepared,
though he considered the quality of the time spent to be very much worth it,
and against such excellent opponents a sign of his accomplishment. Narsh
had netted himself the silver trophy thanks to excellent playing, losing
only to a minor mistake, and vowing to do better next time. And Sierus, of
all people, the underdog undertaker, had come out of nowhere to tear through
all opposition and conquer the gold trophy. Victory was his.




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Mon Apr 17 18:11:14 2017




Writer: Mahazi

Date Mon Apr 17 20:23:43 2017

To Marauders Aeriset Mezlak All ( Tashio Imm RP Religion )

Subject Hunting Traitors - First Command (Part 3)



The explosion at the south gates, shaking the ground, was the first sign
that help was on its way. The shouts for Raije and Marauders were heard
coming from the same direction. The sight of a body flying through the air
gave Mahazi an idea of how quickly the Ogres made it into the city walls.
With the surrounding soldiers stunned from the sudden explosion, Mahazi and
his squad charged. FOR RAIJE! FOR MARAUDERS! Mahazi screamed. Mahazi
swung with All his might, sending the head of the first guardsman that he
came to flying. In what seemed like seconds, Mahazi spotted Bhohrs leading
the first company. With their appearance, many of the guards threw down
their weapons, knowing their chances of survival were small. It was a
welcome break. Secure All weapons, and tie them up. I do not want any
heros to think they can rally on a defensive. Mahazi wipes the blood off
his blades using the shirt of a fallen enemy. Leaving blood on them would
cause rust and thus, ruining the blades. After a brief discussion with
Bhohrs, Mahazi turns to his squad. We continue to the manor, kill All who
oppose, secure those that surrender. Move out!" While marching through the
streets, they met up with Warlord Mezlak, just a few blocks away from the
manor.




Writer: Benthic

Date Mon Apr 17 23:18:41 2017




Writer: Benthic

Date Mon Apr 17 23:34:48 2017




Writer: Betha

Date Wed Apr 19 11:02:16 2017

To Wargar Thaxanos All Immortal RP

Subject News on Drobsek



The large boulder outside the hall had never been Betha's good luck
place. Perhaps it was because every hand delivered note she had ever
received was read while sitting there. Those notes never brought good news.
Her hand trembled as she held this note out as far as her reach allowed.
The news was near unbearable and she just wanted the note to float away with
the wind and she could pretend it never happened.

Dear Ms Drobsek,

It is with great sorrow that we inform you of the death of your husband
Drobsek Dimrock. His death came at the hands of a jealous elven maiden who
confessed she killed him in anger due to his refusal to divorce his wife and
marry her. The concubine will meet her maker as soon as the firing squad is
assembled. Again, Our deepest sympathies to you and clan Wargar.

Betha felt more anger than sorrow. She had always known Drobsek had an eye
for the lasses but an elven lass? She thought he'd have more taste than to
soil his reputation with an elf. And to leave this legacy of shame on her
shoulders was even worse. The obscenities that flew from her lips echoed
across the mountain. She was sure even Althainia might have heard her.





Writer: Mahazi

Date Wed Apr 19 21:29:55 2017

To Marauders Aeriset Mezlak All ( Tashio Imm RP Religion )

Subject Hunting Traitors - First Command (Part 4)



Mahazi realized that his father was walking too slow, and without his
sword. It was after the shield was dropped that he knew Mezlak was in
serious trouble. With the Marauders with him, Mahazi raced to his father,
fear of losing another parent building inside of him. Mahazi reached his
father right after he fell to the ground, checking his pulse as the other
Marauders circled around them in a defensive formation. "He is alive.
Barely." The commotion and sudden appearance of a large group of Marauders
got the attention of the men guarding the manor. Although clearly
outnumbered, the guards readied themselves for battle, with archers starting
to shoot at the Marauders. The Marauders standing guard raise their
shields, making in impenetrable shell, like a beetle. Looking up at Bhohrs,
rage filling his eyes, Mahazi tells him "We must get the Warlord to safety.
Send a squad of ten to take him back to get medical attention. The rest of
us will continue. The only survivors will be the family." With Bhohrs
issuing commands to the ten he chose, Mahazi and the rest of the Marauders
start to advance on the manor. Looking like a giant pin cushion, the
Marauders quickly closed the distance. Once they were close enough, Mahazi
jumped through the opening that was made in the shields, and with one mighty
swing, decapitating the closest guard. The battle in front of the manor was
over in seconds. "Search the manor, kill All but the family and servants.
We will take them with us." The manor was secured quickly, with most of the
guards being outside, there was little resistance inside.




Writer: Betha

Date Thu Apr 20 18:17:55 2017

To Wargar Thaxanos All Immortal RP

Subject News and Truth



Days had passed since Betha received word of Drobsek's death. Many had
spoken their shock and sympathies and Betha had joined in with her own words
of praise and regret at the loss.

She didn't tell a single soul what the note said, mostly because she was
having a hard time believing that Drobsek would even think of taking an
elven mistress. It just wasn't the dwarf she had known and grown to love.
His loyalty to his clan and his race would prevent him from being tempted to
one who he was bred to hate.

Everyone knows that as gossip travels it becomes distorted and Betha was
near certain that the details of Drobsek's death had become just that,
misinformation. She would continue to sing his praises as she always had
and maybe someday the truth would surface.





Writer: Fynix

Date Fri Apr 21 22:21:56 2017

To All Arkane Gypsies

Subject |A| Air Patrol |A|


.--------------------------------------------------------------------------.
| |
| The wind rustled through golden feathers as Fynix soared low over the |
| outskirts of Arkane, searching for some sign, any sign, of the citizens |
| who'd gone missing in the wake of the demon attack. Thus far, All of |
| his efforts had been fruitless. It was as if dozens of people, of All |
| ages, classes, and even species had simply vanished. |
| |
| This wasn't exactly his forte however. He was an entertainer, not a |
| scout or a soldier. But when he thought about All those poor Arkanian |
| people missing sons, daughters, siblings or parents... and he thought |
| even more of those he could've lost in the attack... |
| |
| ... well, how could he not do something? |
| |
'--------------------------------------------------------------------------'




Writer: Lothaw

Date Fri Apr 21 22:35:06 2017

To Arkane ( All imm rp relgion Wrath Zandreya )

Subject Darkness and Despair



As Lothaw Katel sat upon the cot in Arkanes Haven, it was apparent his
injuries were already drawing odd looks from the citizenry. Thanks to the
healing of the priestess Aliera, the giant Thaydius and others he was mostly
whole again. Though the feel of the claws and fangs tearing his flesh
asunder was not far from mind, it was the words, the laughter and above all
the burning that stuck with him.

"So you will remember me, mortal, and the price of your Pride."

The words burned into his neck would not respond to healing magics and he
didnt doubt for a moment that he would carry their pain for a long time.
What was it with these creatures and their petty agendas? Though in
hindsight he probably shouldnt have commented so openly upon it, and even
after carrying the scars Lothaw didnt doubt the truth behind his prior
statement that in a month this latest menace to the realm would be gone and
mostly forgotten. Though in hindsight, commenting so openly upon it was far
from a good idea.

Darkness and despair were not enough to deviate the dark elf from his chosen
course though, and in hindsight he had endured worse, if less prominent
wounds, at the hands of both the dark powers and the light. Lothaw rested,
and turned his thoughts to Mother Zandreya, praying for her to keep him,
Arkane and All those who would oppose this misery close to her grace.

The demon prided its wrath, though its victims seemed to be mostly children
and others he dragged into his realm to torment. Pettiness or spite was all
that was. It commented that Lothaws own wrath had impressed it, perhaps he
would give another demonstration of it in the coming days.




Writer: Nebecanazar

Date Fri Apr 21 22:57:57 2017




Writer: Thaydius

Date Fri Apr 21 23:03:55 2017

To Arkane Althainia Knighthood All ( Imm Religion Siccara )

Subject The Torment of Arkane I



The air was crisp, unbeknownst to Thaydius, who had long lost sense of
what a chilling sensation was whether it took the form of a gust of wind or
apocalyptic winter. People stood about the square, half-hearted, feeling
the direct and indirect wrath of the sinful presence that had rocked Arkane
not long ago. It was a scene a lot like many other events he had witnessed
in his years. He knew the deep and unreserved sense of fear and pain that
leaked out after the conflict had come to an end.

Thaydius did not believe demons to be complex creatures. As intense
manifestations of darkness, demons are the epitome of evil in the mortal
realm. They feed on hatred and sadness. All the dark things that swell in
the hearts of men serve only to empower them. The very sun itself singes
their flesh, to their delight, as they are able to withstand it unlike their
weaker kin. What they wanted and what they needed was to sow this chaos and
discord All about Algoron as they were meant to do. And none were more
proficient in such menacing displays.

Of course, the White Moon cast every ounce of shadow out of his heart and
insulated him from their influence. But he could feel the latent suffering,
nonetheless. He spoke reassuring words to the adventurer's gathered in the
Square and committed himself to doing something about All of this. As he
turned to make haste, he felt his magic fail. At last, he noticed a minor
curse placed upon him, perhaps by one of the children of Darkness, his last
memento from their pointless skirmish.

Halfway around the world, somewhere in the many hills outside of Althainia,
there was a meager settlement that doubled as a headquarters. After being
given heaps of tribute and gifts from people in his adventures, Thaydius
committed the funds to a group of disciples, followers of the White Moon
that he had come to trust over time. They were people that helped him
address the plague, the deathsong, attacks from Chaos and All manner of
tragedies against Algoron. The Gray Church was extraordinary in helping the
adventurers of the world, but he wanted a more focused approach. All of
these people had tiny marks on their palm, like the one he had given Cassidy
so long ago. They were bound to one another.

At the center of this humble village, a blaze of Light unveiled the stately
form of Thaydius, his garb still ripped and torn from the distractions of
the Manor and the Dungeon. Life stirred amidst the farms and buildings, and
faces peeked through the little church built at one end of the town. The
Frost Giant walked with the same collected grace as he always did, wounds
bitten into his forearm and sliced amidst his torso faded like shadows
against the brightest light. He came to a young priest and exhaled a gust
of frosty air through his nostrils, glancing from the young man up toward
the White Moon.

We have work to do. Summon the others.




Writer: Zarina

Date Fri Apr 21 23:12:09 2017

To All (Imm Rp)

Subject Reports of the Missing



After leaving Lord Lothaw at the healer's chambers, Zarina left the Haven
of Arkane to speak with the citizens of the Kingdom. Walking down streets
and entering shops, talking with every guard and shopkeeper, offering words
of comfort to those in distress, she jotted down the names of those missing,
with the promise that they would be searched for.

She hoped and pray they would be found unharmed, physically and mentally.
She worried greatly for the children and the elderly, how much could they
endure... There had to be a way to stop these demons from attacking, from
bringing so much pain. Where were the angels, the guardians, the protectors
of the Realm? Was there anything stronger to destroy the demons? Of course
the people of the Realm had come together to fight, and they would continue
to do so, to protect each other and the lands, even if some others came to
use the fighting for their own personal gains to attack those clans and
people coming to aid the Kingdom.





Writer: Mezlak

Date Fri Apr 21 23:42:46 2017

To All Marauders Arkane ( Raije Imm RP Religion Tashio )

Subject Recovering the Missing



Mezlak filled out the orders. The storm and demon had taken people.
Normally Mezlak wouldn't care about missing people from other kingdoms.
This time however, this demon made a mistake. This time he took Marauders.


This time the challenge had been made.

While indiviuals search from elsewhere, Mezlak had an Army. When someone
picked a fight with one Marauder, they pick a fight with the whole army. No
Marauder ever fought alone.

The Marauders would be the vanguard against this demon where ever he hid.
If others chose to come along, so be it. Mezlak was hardly one to deny a
fight to others.

He finished filling out the orders and handed them to the waiting errand
boys that ran through Ironclad. Army scouts and cavalry would seek traces
of the demon and those that were taken. The secretive Blades would begin
gathering intel on the demon and trying to learn about it's powers.
Companies in the country side reinforcing the Army's control over the
sectors would be recalled. All troops would ready to march. If this demon
was found, the full weight of the Marauders would be brought to bear against
it.

No one took a Marauder prisoner without consiquences.




Writer: Gavriel

Date Sat Apr 22 00:59:06 2017

To All Arkane Althainia Teimhnean imm roleplay rp

Subject "Gotta start somewhere."



"Those what were there saw lingerin' shadows... I'm thinkin' might look
out west t'start. There's a grove out that way, 's I recall."

"Eh - that's assuming that thems what conrtol the sin adhere to an internal
and consistent logic."

"Gotta start somewhere."

So he did.

Gavriel stared north, into the spaces between the giant grey trees. There
was power here, and menace, and he'd felt both those in Arkane as well. He
could only hope he was on the right track.

The horse under him snorted, it didn't like this path any better than Gav
did, but he wasn't about to abandon those who'd been lost. He'd said to
Shamus, when he went to the stables for his steed, "They ain't forgotten.
I'm ridin' out t'search fer yours, and the others, too. Say a prayer f'r
'em."

And now Gav said a prayer, himself. "Lord... I don't know where I'm
headed, but I'm hopin' it does some good. I jus' pray we ain't All too
late."

His shield-hand firmly gripping the reins, Gavriel gave a click of his
tongue and urged the Nordmaarian-bred warhorse onward. There were children
to be saved, and he'd be damned if he was going to sit idle.




Writer: Alathen

Date Sat Apr 22 08:43:59 2017

To Arkane Althainia All ( Imm Religion Raije )

Subject Hope shines in the Darkness.


Hope shines in the Darkness. With missives sent to every temple and
city. Alathen nods softly to himself. Looking over the skyline. Candle
kits simple beacons of light and hope. Let those lost only look up and know
they are not alone. Let the night skies fill with hope. Let those who have
been take from us know just not found. May any able to see be guided home.
In this hour of grief let All have lost know none have given up know our
commitment and resolve will not faultier till we bring them home.

These beast wish to extinguish the Light we'll give them thousand new stars
in the night skies above. We shall show them they have won nothing. Now
preparations for War. Sighs softly knowing last time he committed to War.




Writer: Alathen

Date Sat Apr 22 10:13:10 2017

To Arkane Althainia All ( Imm Religion Teliena Raije )

Subject War in the Temple of Love


Alathen kneeing with his eyes closed at in prayer at Teliena's temple at
the foot of her statue. A Priest walks in behind him in his prayer. Softly
speaking, Alathen Renato, Priest of Love. Crusader of Love. Now child or
War. Why do you bring war why do you bring war to her temple of love?
Without moving muscle responds in kind. That I think would be obvious. So
I never forget what I'm fighting for. The old kind looking Priest gently
nods. You keep war in your heart to fight for love? Alathen looks to the
statue of the Goddess. I keep war in my heart to bare my love. Those you
love the most you fight for. The Old Man nods lightly, then I leave to your
prayers Baron. Then the Priest leaves as Alathen closes he's eyes again
lowering his head back to his prayer.




Writer: Alathen

Date Sat Apr 22 11:11:01 2017

To Arkane Althainia All ( Imm Religion Raije )

Subject Victory will be at any cost.



Remembering The last time he declared War.. Countless plagued, cursed to
the Deathsong. Suffering of the people spread to every conner of the world.
He committed to War against the atrocity. Study it's every habit, fight it
on every front never stop.. Never stop.. Till the battle was won. The
cost was grave. When the fight won it was over.. Alathen curing the curse
of untold countless without rest. Without giving a inch into the plague
that brought method to keeping cleansed every kingdom. An finally healed
utterly exhausted from healing day and night weaken by repeated alignment he
collapse drained virtual to the point of death. Even living was strain to
the last bit of life holding on merely a breath away from Fatale. The
damage had been done with no faculties left of endurance his sacrifice would
now bare it's cost. With his first breath of air the pain would begin. The
curse had torn this his spirit and mind thousands of times. An now caught
up with him. His mother an Priestess and healers would spend the next days
keeping him barely alive.. Bloody screams of agony would fill the room of
childhood home. Every muscle riving in suffering of getting torn apart with
seeming no end to the torture. He had wished for death relief from the
suffering. His mind no sanctuary as the a cursed song rang threw his very
soul. The feeling of living while torn apart then put back together again
would last for days after. An The Song... It still ringing in his ears.
Gone from the world in All place but one. He knew this Demons wanted a War
then they shall have it. An Victory will be at any cost.




Writer: Meki

Date Sat Apr 22 16:47:14 2017




Writer: Zola

Date Sat Apr 22 18:29:05 2017

To All Abaddon Bloodlust Verminasia Darkonin Immortals Fatale

Subject X Darkness Descending X


Missing children.

Zola glanced up from his meditations as the news reached him, dismissing the
messenger as he pondered over the interesting course of events that had
taken place that night. A demon of darkness stealing away family members.
By All accounts, by the dozens. Not All children either, but the old,
young, human, elf, felar, rich and poor and everything in between. Even
Marauder soldiers, trained and prepared, vanished into thin air. Very
intriguing. Seemingly no commonality, save one he knew of.


This only days after a demon had inspired the most revolting urge for food
and drink in the Arkanian City, and another had plagued Althainia with
nightmares. The Darkness was active, and moving. And there was a grander
plan at work here, Zola could sense it.


He needed to learn more. Wrapping his crimson vestments aroun dhis
shoulders and ensuring his ever-present mask was in face, Zola stepped up to
the braziers lit in Fatale's Temple, vanishing into the smoke and shadows.
He would see for himself what had come of this latest incident and judge
what his place was for himself. If this servant of Darkness had wanted the
kidnapped dead, such would have been their fate already. Which only meant
something grander was in the works.





Writer: Verdot

Date Sat Apr 22 19:47:49 2017




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sun Apr 23 00:38:18 2017




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sun Apr 23 00:57:26 2017

To All Nadrik Immortal Religion Knighthood Storyline

Subject Entities of Sin Part 2: Cracked Shield and Shinalstin



She's been taken, General... The Lady Shield has been taken by those
things

Where are you?

On my way home, sir.

On the damned double!

Mercerion was pacing the altar room in full battle regalia. The Shokonese
stylings of his armors belying the ferocity of an angered angelic creature
made even more intense by the wrath that emanated from the Crown General.
One of his own was taken, and not returned. Likely being tortured or even
murdered as he paced by these damned evil entities. He was prepared to tear
heads from spines, or whatever these entities had anyway.

When Hasaki came into the altar room, covered in blood once again, Mercerion
called Jornhya over to address the wounds, and sent a page to bring
Thrakhath in from his campaigning. He helped Jornhya tend to Hasaki as the
squire made his report. Greed had struck, and of course it had fittingly
struck New Thalosia. Apparently Sloth had struck as well, and had come
after Hasaki, but Aliera had intervened on behalf of the Squire, putting
herself between the squire and the entity, and had been taken for it.

Names had been mentioned, and this is what snapped the General out of his
fury.

"LaFortinas" Mercerion quirked an eyebrow and added, "Ilusen, no doubt."

The Squire nodded.

"The other name?" Came Mercerion's impatient reply.

"Elven sir. Shal.. Shin"

"Shinalstin" Came Thrakhath's reply

Mercerion nodded and rose to his feet, pulling Thrakhath into formation with
him.

"We're going to Shinalstin. I happen to know where it is."

===============================================================

After the battle through the mists, the dark and dry desolation of the
Shinalstin catacombs were almost welcome. Mercerion was familiar with this
place, he had been here before. He knew of a monk here, whom just might
have some answers he sought about these evils. When they reached the room
where one could nexus away, he disbanded his formation, and made his way
through the wicked halls of the catacombs to speak with Sevarris. Hopefully
this monk would have some answers.




Writer: Telthian

Date Sun Apr 23 10:12:31 2017

To All Equinox Immortal Shadow Verminasia Religion

Subject Claws in the Dark (VIII)


Daylight pierced the eastern horizon and the priest mused silently to
himself. Perpetually the tides changed. The pendulum forever shifted,
spiralling as history repeated itself again and again and again. The sun
would rise, and for a time light would reign and create. And then the sun
would set, and darkness would reign and destroy.

A pendulum could not be tipped, try as one might. The cycle would just
continue, the magnitude of its swing careening in reverse with dramatic
intensity to carve its path across the years until it finally resumed its
original course once again. He had seen it time and time again. But
perhaps a pendulum could be broken.

Burnt fingers worked themselves slowly over the ancient Shinalstin periapt,
the markings long since faded from its smooth surface. He closed his eyes,
conjuring the images writ in bone and flesh as he turned the script over and
over again in his mind.

Further within the stables, the soft jingle of bells and the voice that
followed drew his attention back to the present moment, 'Everything is
accounted for and ready, My Lord. ' Confident his intution was correct, he
tucked the fragment carefully away within his robes. Turning to face the
skald, his slate eyes swept over her and Telthian nodded in solemn approval.
She was prepared.

Stepping through a gateway of liquid darkness they found themselves at that
ancient gatehouse, the Vision writ large into the black marble as a constant
reminder of the code.


AMBACTUS A CALIGO.




Writer: Fardoc

Date Sun Apr 23 10:42:58 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Chaos Grumf Jiffy Staldrache Erebaal Imm Nadrik Storyline RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 1)



Fardoc flew in a circling loop around the entrance to the cavern. The
Ironbreakers hole was large but not nearly large enough to accommodate a
dragon, should it become necessary to go in after the company. Like a
buzzing inside his ear, a rasping, menacing voice echoed in his mind.

"Ah ear your bloodae lads trampin through tha land. Keep em awae less
you wan tue ave their eads returned to you on ah metal pike. You ear me
Thane?"

Fardoc slipped slightly in his hold onto Staldraches neck spike in surprise
at hearing the brazen voice of the traitor, Gorlend Warpeye, but managed to
respond in kind.

"Those lads are ah far sight braver than ye, traitor. Staldrache ahn ah see
none o yer so-called "friends" on the horizon. Ah think ye bae startin
tae feel the fires o righteousness bearin down upon ye, ahn yer growin
frightened."

Gorlends voice spat back his reply into the priests mind, scoffing at his
words, and Fardoc went on.

"Ye face ah company o Ironbreakers, ah score strong, clad in plate churned
out bae the finest loyal smiths in the land. Ah think ye show ah remarkable
arrogance. Should ye poke yer head outta yer little hole for even ahn
instant, the Steel ahn maeself will bae upon ye."

The maddened dwarven smith then began making incoherent threats, raging his
intent to slay the assembled dwarves of Thaxanos, and under the impression
that the Thane was there to steal away his craftwork.

Seething with anger at the thought of this traitor threatening to kill his
men, the priest bit back by informing Warpeye that he would rot in the black
cells of Thaxanos for his crimes. Upon hearing this, Gorlends shouts and
threats became even more unrestrained, calling out loudly for a creature
named Smarth, and saying that the Warp was willing to pay fairly for his
services, unlike Thaxanos. Suddenly, the conversation turned dire when, in
a fit of rage, Gorlends voice echoed in Fardocs mind, "Smarth! Set tha
charges!"

Fardoc lurched in his position on the Steels back, and shouted, "Staldrache!
Down tae the ground!"

Hurtling to the center of the monastery courtyard, Fardoc leapt from the
dragons back when he was at a safe level, hurriedly pulling a carved horn
from his belt and blasting a deafening blast. The traitor and the priest
continued to trade mental barbs, though Fardoc was distracted by clamoring
to warn his men. Calling back to Staldrache to take back to the skies and
search for any Warp reinforcements on the horizon, the priest dropped down
into the tunnel himself. He raced down the passageways and corridors,
searching for any sign of either his men, the traitor, or both.

Fardoc tore through the catacombs, dodging the enormous native lizards as
well as he could, and fighting those he could not escape. He made it deeper
and deeper into the complex, finding no sign of his troops, until he ran
almost headlong into a stout dwarf, clad not in the armor of an Ironbreaker,
but in ragged robes and an apron. He had been standing post in front of a
narrow opening in the rocks, a short passageway leading back further into
some unknown part of the catacombs.

The younger dwarf shouted, "Ere! Ere!" And immediately set upon the priest
with vigor. Shaking off his surprise, Fardoc began to do battle. Chanting
his hymns and letting fly with his spells, the stout dwarf began shouting
that he was just an apprentice, that he was just helping inside the forge,
yet he did not stop his attack. Finally, broken and weary, the younger
apprentice collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath and bleeding from his
many wounds.

Fardoc, having already decided to be merciful to the young dwarf, due to his
youth and obvious terror of the retribution of either Gorlend or the Warp,
approached him and began to calmly heal the sores and sickness that had been
cast on the dwarf during the duel. The apprentice merely looked up at the
older dwarf and said, "Nae bother, ahm dead anyway," before losing coherence,
mumbling to himself before his head slumped against the wall, unconscious.




Writer: Crelius

Date Sun Apr 23 13:56:58 2017

To All Immortal RP

Subject Entities of Sin Part 3: Vigil



In the darkness he sat. As he had for years now. A crude obsidian shelf
provided his sole place of rest, carved millennia ago from the dim magmatic
flows of the cavern. Here he sat. A watcher in the grim darkness.
Eternity had been offered to him many times over his years. Eternity now
was demanded of him. This was his Vigil.

The sulphuric atmosphere of the chamber would choke most men. Even Crelius
drew breathes carefully and through practiced diligence. Channels of molten
malignance arched out about the chambers foothold to spill into a great
chasm below. Their exhaust was no mans refuge.

A weapon of some repute laid upon the volcanic addled ground at his feet.
An object of sentience and legend. The hammer provided him with what little
communication he might muster with the outside world. It hummed.

The venerable shadowknight frowned. Grasping the pommel in what could only
be a gesture of reluctance. His mind was enveloped with the sending of one
he did not expect.

Lord General Mercerion of Gareth.

Normally he would reserve such a calling as misstep or wronged clairvoyance.
He had however established an agreement with the General decades ago. While
the two of them were sworn mortal enemies, they had reached acknowledgment
in a sense. When matters of the realm were beset by those of chaos, or
those outside of the prime powers, they would attempt to put aside their
differences.

"Sin," Was the message Crelius received. Pondering it he stood from his
post. Considering what this message might implicate.

A short vision of Mercerions predicament flowed into Crelius mind. A vision
of hosts beyond the likes of the gods. Empowered by emotion and mortal
frailty. Visions of mortal flocks being manipulated by themselves and taken
into some kind of domain.

"Hmmmmm," Crelius thought to himself. He had heard of such beings, wrought
only of obscure tales and of a time before the gods

Crelius grasped the hammer, holstering it in a sheath beneath the seam of
his robes. Standing he offered a low prayer, intoning to his master that he
would return to his Vigil soon.

In a reluctant advance he turned and left the underground abysm. The
Reliquary.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sun Apr 23 15:25:21 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knightood Aliera

Subject Entities of Sin Part 4: Shinalstin Catacombs



Mercerion had tried to get the monk's attention for nearly an hour,
having recognized the look in his eyes. The man was a kindred, and could
send his mind elsewhere. Mercerion was curious to where this monk had sent
his mind, and why he maintained it thusly. After the hour was up, Mercerion
left the altar room and went back into the catacombs. He had to admit,
there was an odd dread about this place. Warm, dry, and dark, with a
foreboding sense and wind that hit recesses and hollows with just the right
pitch to create haunting melodies, and trick the mind into thinking there
were things here that were not.

Constantly, the Crown General felt as if he perceived whispers or malicious
chuckles in the darkness of the catacombs, but every time he turned around
or peered into the dark, he was met with more emptiness, and more recesses
with what must have been the shinalstin people, incarcerated within. The
remains of these people were vaguely humanoid, but clearly not human, or at
least not completely. The skeletons bore long, slender bones which angled
out from their shoulders. To Mercerion, they resembled wings, and as they
ran the length of the skeletal structures, that very well may be what they
were.

As he was investigating one of the recesses, he pulled out a small, odd
crystal. He was surprised to find it, and put it with the silver key he had
found as well, just as he felt something cold run through him, as if some
creature was trying to sap the life directly from him. In a single motion
he turned and drew his katana, the holy power imbued into the blade lit the
area in a harsh blue-white flash of power as the blade connected with the
source of the malevolence.

With a howl the guardian that had attacked Mercerion burst into a flaming
vapor, dispersed by the blue-white holy power of the blade. There was
nothing left of the creature, whatever it had been. The General narrowed
his gaze, and looked around again. Perhaps there was more to this place
than he had realized. He would have to continue his search.




Writer: Ancaladar

Date Sun Apr 23 17:27:00 2017

To All Shalonesti ( Imm Rp Storyline )

Subject Blinded by Greed


From atop a platform mounted high upon a great vallenwood tree, Ancaladar
watched the sun set upon the horizon. For the wisened elf, the day had been
one he could call quiet. It had been anything but. He stood there now,
enjoying the beauty of the home he had worked tirelessly for years to defend.
It was moments like these that he looked forward to when the ever changing
tides of battle were in their favor. The elves returned home to spend what
precious time they had with their families. No one knew when the next call to
arms would come.

It was not a call to arms that jarred Ancaladar from his reverie this eve. The
Vallens were abuzz with talk of a strange, infectious influence sweeping
through the markets. Some elves felt compelled to discard their wealth,
showering it among the people. Others behaved in a completely different
manner, driven instead to cling to what coin they had as preciously as their
own lives. Word travelled the lands of some strange creature standing amidst
the markets of New Thalos, and reached Ancaladar's ears. Retrieving his staff,
he turned away from the sunset.

Riding upon the blessed wings of the gryffon, it was not long before he
reached the desert markets. They were even more lively than usual, though for
a different reason altogether, it seemed. At the center of the market there
was a great form. As the gryffon pulled him closer the world seemed to dim.
Darker and darker it grew until his sight failed him completely. Urging his
feathered ally to retreat, he distanced himself from the presence, but his
sight did not return. He instructed the gryffon to return to Shalonesti, where
he was deposited in front of the healer, who was more than willing to take his
coin.

Blindness dispelled, he turned back toward the sands. ...only to lose his
sight again. Exasperated, he returned home, and did not venture toward New
Thalos again.




Writer: Aliera

Date Sun Apr 23 21:15:44 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 1: Sloth and the Temple of Devion



Returning from the Thalosian streets and the battle with the
manifestation of Greed, Aliera had went to the Temple first seeking guidance
once more and then to her Office, already dreading the sight she knew to
await her there. Wrapping her own wounds from the battle she cast a glance
over her desk and attempted to tamp down the feeling of dread that
accompanied the ever-growing stack of missives upon it.

With thousands taken, new reports had flooded into her office from the
various Kingdoms of the missing, stacked on top of her previous work on the
subject and now threatening to topple the already precarious piles already
littering her desk. Descriptions of both the missing and their last known
locations were now laced through with the sketch of odd pieces of broken
demonic script. Some of them had been left in the place of those taken from
Althainia, if reports were to be believed, and others written in her own
hand, drawn from life as she looked at those marked and returned. It was a
crude if hopefully somewhat effective method of filing as she tried to make
sense of it all, or any of it for that matter, but she had to at least try.




Just as Aliera began to look over the last reports coming in, Hasaki spoke
to her yet again with more questions that begged answers seeming to lead to
darker and darker places. Frowning, she took up her shield and sought him
out, in the Temple of Devion. She truly hated this place, of course her
hatred for it had nothing to do with the fact that she had failed to destroy
it, but that certainly did not endear the temple to her either. And now,
one of her Squires was being tortured again, in this place and that she
refused to abide.

Technically Hasaki was not her Squire in so much that she was his mentor,
but she was one of his Generals, and with her oath she had taken each and
every Page, Squire and Knight in the Keep into her care. The embodiment, or
at least spirit of Sloth had taken a particular interest in Hasaki and sworn
to continue to do so- and it was this that that now seemed to be torturing
him even now as she rushed into the Temple.

Denth was with him, the Nameless elf she had seen earlier in his company,
and one she had been praying for in regard to his dalliance with a
Verminasian, though little of her concern was spared for the morality,
lacking or supposed, in the young Elfs love life at the moment. He was
terrified, the Elf, and rightfully so. The Temple was a place of lies to
begin with and this malevolent thing now infested even this vile place with
acid and sulfur. The sounds of thousands of skittering feet and claws
joined the chattering of Denths teeth in a nearly deafening assault to her
ears as she drew her sword to defend her squire further.

Speaking to the voice in the darkness she staked her claim aloud for it to
hear, as if her drawn sword were not enough. 'You have no claim on my
Squire or my Knights, show yourself or be gone!


Following the sounds in the chamber with her sword she tried to pinpoint the
voice, even as it spoke again of devouring the soul of Hasakis little
sister, the implied threat striking a cord with each of them in the room and
drawing a hiss and another vow from the Priestess that the child would not
be left in the danger she was in.




Writer: Aliera

Date Sun Apr 23 21:21:07 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 2: Sloth and the Temple of Devion



Hasaki sought to bargain now, and eyes blinked in the darkness and the
skittering increased in chamber before acid from the roof too amplified,
promising more than the flesh wound it had granted to him on previous
occasion had she and the elf not intervened. Shalonesti was here now the
Senator and another known to her, responding to Denths call no doubt, though
she had been nearly too focused to recognize them.

Her own words rang in her head from the night before, in effort to stay her
Knights and lend them the valor that would be needed to continue to face
such dangerous foes, ... To counter sin you must use virtue...

It was Sloth that had attacked Hasaki and by All accounts, and the counter
to Sloth, was Sacrifice. Sloth was self-serving as All of the deadly sins
were but Sloth... Was without care. Stirred by nothing and for nothing
simply for selfish gain, in short, a failure to do what you should.

But this was not something she should do, it was beyond that, it was what
she must do.

{uGive me the boy... Give him to me and I will tell you..
The voice
started, but she heard no more of the honeyed words plying lies in this
temple of deception, instead her own voice sounded in the temple, I will
not. You will take me first before I surrender him to you. He is not yours
for the taking.
Denth and Hasaki both spoke against it, but she would not
permit the Squire to be taken, she had to protect him, and All the others
she possibly could.

Eyes blinked in the darkness, nearly within an arms breath of Hasaki once
more, but they were focused on her for a moment before All manner of insects
began to crawl into the temple, giving form to the skittering sounds that
had haunted the dark. The Priestess stood her ground as the insects swarmed
around her feet and over the floor and walls of the temple, and the voice
spoke again, {u"I will take the woman with sssuch Pride in her heart. And you
will have your ansswerss. Sstep forward, mortal, into my embrace.


Hasaki pleaded with her, but she issued the order, Go to the Keep. Now.
She had meant every word, seeking to send him as far from here as she could
and knowing he would refuse her, stepped forward, seeking to meet the demon
head on. Her own words echoed in her head from a time much longer again
now, It is not thinking less of yourself, but of yourself less, the courage
of heart to be able to accept the sacrifice involved with a difficult
task...
It accused her of Pride, but there was a counter to that also, in
something this being knew nothing of, Humility.

It only took one step forward and she was overcome. The darkness, acid, and
insects swarmed forward in an instant, the cacophony of noise and movement
erupting violently as the floor swayed beneath her and she was entirely
consumed.




Writer: Zarina

Date Sun Apr 23 21:33:14 2017

To All (Imm RP)

Subject Nightmares and Racing Thoughts



She had struggle with falling asleep after the day's events, but his warm
presence gave her enough peace to sleep for a few hours. She woke up
screaming, ears flattening against her head, the natural darkness of the
room adding to her night terror, before his soft voice spoke, 'You are safe,
Zarina, you are safe, you are here.
' That calmed her and the orbs of light
lightening the room confirmed to her that she was indeed at home. In her
dream she had been back in that dark place, the chill penetrating her skin,
reaching her bones, freezing her core. The sound of despair, of lost hope
and pain, filling her ears. She could still feel her body being wrapped and
squeezed, could feel her should being seared. Even now, hours later, her
shoulder throbbed with pain, the rune marking her skin remained fresh,
unwilling to heal.

He brought her tea and she took it, giving thanks and a loving smile before
taking a sip, letting it warm her. Her ears twitch atop her head as her
mind raced, could the missing people be in that dark place? Could they be
reached and brought back? Where they being kept elsewhere? Where was
General Aliera? Why had she been taken, why where they torturing her?
Zarina hoped and prayed to All the Gods of Balance and Light, that the lady
would be found and return soon.

Zarina's mind jumped from thought to thought, unable to concentrate and
quiet down. Why had they been taken and marked? What did the runes mean?
Not just in meaning of the actual things, but as a whole, what did they mean
about those who had been abducted and returned? Could they be possessed by
such? Were they beacons for more danger? Her shoulder hurt, her skin felt
on fire, the rune seemed to throb. She worried... So much about everything
and everyone. They had to be strong, had to work together to defeat these
demons, no one could afford the luxury to just sit idle.




Writer: Pharis

Date Sun Apr 23 22:31:11 2017




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sun Apr 23 23:36:55 2017

To All Verminasia Equinox Imm Shadow Religion

Subject Seven Sins - Darkness


'Run! '

The word hit her weary mind and sunk through the fog and for a brief moment,
Ashtiel hesitated to obey. The poisonous insects swarmed towards the
guillotine, their writhing mass rolling over those unfortunate enough to
have fallen asleep like a dark and oily wave. With one last look toward the
one who had screamed the order, she turned from the beast and leapt from the
platform to attempt her escape.

Her legs felt like lead, each step more sluggish and unbalanced than the one
before it and every bite from the insects that chased her flooded her with
sickness. Every movement cost her precious energy and she hadn't enough to
make it to her goal.

The temple loomed before her, a dark beacon she hadn't the remaining
strength to reach and so she turned to face her fate with what bravery she
could muster.

The mandibles of the demonic creature made a chittering sound as it drew
back to stare down upon her with eight eyes and then it came, a web of
darkness that swallowed her and extinguished everything with it.





Writer: Ashtiel

Date Mon Apr 24 00:19:06 2017

To All Verminasia Equinox Imm Shadow Religion

Subject Seven Sins - Nightmares


She woke with a start to find herself still sitting upright on the
cushioned couch before the window in her mother's parlor. A pained sound
fell from her lips in a gasp even as consciousness stole the reason for it
from her mind, wiping away the remnants of the nightmares that had plagued
her attempt at rest.

Still, the paralyzing sense of dread seized hold of her and she tensed, her
eyes nervously searching the room before she forced herself to settle and
breathed a heavy sigh of frustration. Beads of cold sweat ran down the back
of her neck.

Her usually carefully controlled world had turned to confusion. She had
woken in an unfamiliar place, her memory of the day's events stolen from
her. She had been informed of the visit from the demon of Sloth and while
she found it incredulous, she trusted those who told her of it.

She had been ordered to rest and ordered to wake and moved about between
homes for her own safety but none of it made sense of the feeling of urgency
that plagued her. None of it alleviated the unsettled feeling she carried
within.

With each passing moment, her frustration with her own failure to remember
grew and every time she attempted to speak of the Sins she was paralyzed by
anxiety she could not explain.

'Its alright'

Her mother moved closer to her as she whispered it and Ash cast her an
embarrassed look in apology, uncertain whether she truly believed it would
be.




Writer: Fardoc

Date Mon Apr 24 03:43:18 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Chaos Grumf Jiffy Staldrache Erebaal Imm Nadrik Storyline RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 2)



Fardoc continued casting his healing magic a few moments after the
apprentice lost consciousness, ensuring that he would not perish from blood
loss, before he was satisfied that he had done what he could. He glanced
towards the opening in the rock wall, soft light from a chamber beyond
casting shadows in the narrow crevice. With a quick word, the priest
summoned an elemental, and made a final call into the darkened tunnels for
the Ironbreakers, shouting out the name of their commander in the loudest
voice he could manage.

Without wasting another instant to allow the traitor either time to escape
or blow the charges, the priest bade his elemental to proceed into the
crevice, and him following close behind its mammoth footsteps. When he came
through the crevice completely, he emerged into a small forge, built inside
a cramped cave. Blacksmith tools littered a table pushed against the far
wall, but the dominating feature of the chamber was a series of explosive
charges, set in various places around the cave.

Gorlend Warpeye, the traitor himself, stood in the center of the forge,
looking unkempt, manic, and crazed in the glow of the flames. Dark rings
encircled his eyes, and his beard was singed by the fires of his forge and
clumped with the dirt and grime of his craft. He hefted a set of runed
tongs with a glowing steel bar clasped in them and leveled them at Fardoc.


"Ah see ye bested me apprentice. Little sot was never anae gude. Weak
thing"

Fardoc issued a low growl to the dwarf, "So, et is finally ye."

In a crazed voice, the smith replied, "Is et me? Smarth? Et me me, aye?"
He rolled his eyes frantically, cackling softly at the voices in his own
head, "Aye.. ME CRAFWORK! Ye will nae get to et!"

Fardoc spat back towards him, "Ah dunnae give ah twit about yer bloodae
craftwork, lad. Let et sit here, in All ets... Er, splendor. Ye will
stand trial before yer kin."

The smiths eyes widened slightly, and he began slowly inching his way
towards the explosive charges. "Ye will nae get me craftwork. Trial e says
Smarth!"

At that moment, the company of Ironbreakers managed to find their way to the
forge entrance, following the shouts of their Thane. Their commander,
Torlend, was at the head of the formation, clamoring through the narrow
crevice in a desperate bid to join the Thane as quickly as possible.

Fardoc hurriedly raised a fist to halt the armored dwarves, and they skidded
to a halt behind the Thane. "Torlend, halt! He bae prepared tae blow the
charges!"

The priest turned his attention back towards the traitor, attempting to keep
him distracted from the charges, focused on the conversation. "Easy now.
There is no need tae kill yerself. We have no desire for yer bloodae work."

The unkempt dwarf spat back, "Ye kinnae pay wot et be worth. Ef ye want te
make a deal, see if tha Everchosen will allow et," adding with a whisper,
"Nae that I will, less yer willin te pay fair."

Fardoc raised a placating hand to the crazed dwarf. "Ye have chosen tae ply
yer craft for the godslayers, agin the laws of yer kin ahn Kingdom. In mae
authority as Thane o the Xaprar, as command ye tae drop yer poker ahn go
inta our custody. Ah swear tae ye the trial will bae fair ahn proper."

Gorlend Warpeye said, "Wot fer? Ye want te put me in tha black cell,
remember? Ah kinnae do me craft there. This..." Gorlend Warpeye spread his
arms out wide, "bae me workshop."

Still anxious to keep the smith talking, the priest replied, "Aye, so tis.
Ye said before ye believe Raije would smile on ye for wot yeve done. Wot
makes ye say such?"

Gorlend Warpeye quirked his head, his eyes seeming to shake slightly in
their sockets as a grimey grin spread across his lips, "Ahm able to craft me
work as well as I do. That be answer enough fer me. Me craft be fer Raije
an he knows et. Go away so I can get back to me work."





Writer: Zola

Date Mon Apr 24 04:11:14 2017

To All Bloodlust Abaddon Darkonin Verminasia Immortals Fatale

Subject X Hallowed Gold X


The battle in Thalosia with Agahut'yun, the Aspect of Greed, was All but
over, and Zola, while dutifully relaying the information to his
brother-in-law, the current Count of Abaddon, was prepared to put the whole
incident out of his mind... When something happened.


When he'd been in the desert city, he'd witnessed the felar, Zarina,
swallowed up by quicksand. Claimed by the demon after being defeated. But
here, he saw the ground of the Death Garden open up, and inexplicably spurt
up a burst of sand (despite their swampy homeland being miles from any sort
of wasteland). Sand... And gold. Specifically, twenty bars of solid gold.
His gloved hands trembled as he picked one up, ringing it against his
knuckles. His knowledge of ore was vague, but he knew enough to recognize
the real thing when he saw it.


It seemed his earlier intent, if not his actual offer, had been accepted.
And Agahut'yun had rewarded such accordingly. It wasn't quite All the
material wealth of Algoron... But twenty bars of gold was an excellent
start.


Four he immediately donated to the Blood Lands he owed his allegiance to,
the Count gratefully accepting such. No doubt they would mitigate some of
the damage the Sin Demons presence had caused even this far away in the
average citizen. How wonderful that they did not need to worry about their
skeletal guards succumbing to such mediocre things.


Another three he passed away to worthy opponents on the field, spreading the
wealth amongst those most deserving of it.


But the remaining thirteen... Oh, those he had plans for.

Not being a smelter himself, Zola was forced to enlist the services of one.
But once he gave his designs to the younger man, he eagerly went to work
melting down the golden bars. They worked closely with the construction
already underway on the Grand Temple of Fatale, and the gold was inlaid in
the Altar Room, spelling out letters that read as the Eight Tenets.


Hallowed metal, blessed by demonic hands, favored by Darkness, now given new
purpose. Spreading the Word of the dread Lord Fatale, God of Murder.


And it was only the beginning.




Writer: Fardoc

Date Mon Apr 24 05:05:33 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Chaos Grumf Jiffy Staldrache Erebaal Imm Nadrik Storyline RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 3)



Fardoc internally raised an eyebrow at these words, and murmured the
spells for detecting godly allegiance and aura detection, casting them on
the traitor. A block blossomed in his mind, and a sharp spike of pain
jabbed in his forehead. Nothing was to be found.

Fardoc replied to the smith, 'Ye have no allegiance tae Lord Raije, so as ah
cin tell. Ahn mae perceptions bae unparalleled. Ye have long since been
shunned for yer service tae Malachive, ahn ye refuse tae admit et tae
yerself. Any magic ye draw upon now is because o him.
'

Gorlend Warpeye tensed and frowned, turning the steel bar back towards the
charges, 'Ye kinnae tell me who I follow! '

And with no more warning, the mad smith tossed the fire-hot bar at the
charges, and a soft sizzle echoed through the cramped quarters.

Fardoc recoiled from the abrupt attack, and shouted to his men,
'Ironbreakers! Take cover! ' He and the Ironbreakers leapt behind whatever
cover they could find in the cramped workspace. With a cackle, Gorlend
exclaimed, 'Ye want te take me te black cells? Ye choose te save yerself!
'

Fardoc stood from cover when no explosion ensued. 'Mae kin ahn the safety o
mae lads always come firs, even over yer miserable hide.
'

Gorlend Warpeye spat back 'Aye.. Ahnn ye think I trust yer form o justice.
Ye dont even know wot et be.
'

And with that parting barb, Warpeye glanced over at the charges, and turned
to bolt out of the back entrance of the cavern upon seeing how close they
were to detonating.

'Ironbreakers! After im! ' Fardoc shouted.

The dwarves leapt from their posts and charged after the traitor, led by the
robed priest. As they raced in the direction the traitor had fled, they
began to notice the tremble of the earth at their heels, and the subtle pop
of air as an explosion built in force behind them, sucking much of the
oxygen from the narrow passages.

Fardoc felt a pang of fear for the safety of his men when he felt the rush
of air. He threw himself into the first small cavern he could find to the
side of the main passage, and shouted to the other dwarves, 'Ironbreakers!
Pile in the cave ahn wait out the explosion! We cin dig ourselves out!
'

Rapidly the cave was filled with armored warriors diving for cover, with
rocks, rubble and shooting flame following shortly after. Much to the shock
of the assembled dwarves, the traitor himself came sprinting into the very
cave they occupied to take shelter from the storm of shrapnel.

His eyes widened at the sight of Ironbreakers staring at him, and he let out
a muffled sound of panic as he turned on his heels and ran back into towards
main corridor, where the sounds of rocks pinging from the passage walls was
beginning to subside as the charges ceased with their destruction.

Fardoc was the first to recover his wits from the surprise, and he stormed
after Warpeye with his men close on his back. They caught up with him as he
exited the passage into the main corridor, and Fardoc boomed, 'Grab him! '

Warpeye let out a muffled shout as he is pinned by an Ironbreaker, 'Git off
mae ye bloodae gits!
'

The priest called out for ropes as he glared at the struggling smith huffing
for breath under the Ironbreaker. They were quickly passed up, and several
more from the company helped tie the smith securely as the rest stood guard
at the perimeter for any surprise reinforcements.

Warpeye shouted, 'Smarth! Ye kinnae git tae mae craft! ' as he struggled
with his bonds.

Fardoc leaned down towards him, saying in a calm voice, 'Gorlend Warpeye, as
promised, ah will nay touch yer craftwork nor the tools o yer forge, though
ye broke the terms o mae offer. Ah place ye under arrest under the
authority as Thane o the Xaprar.
'

Gorlend Warpeye threw his head back, spittle flying from his mouth, 'Ye kin
try, Thane. Ye kin try. But ah know me wae an ye will nae keep me. Smarth
will see to et. That be me promise!
'





Writer: Fardoc

Date Mon Apr 24 05:29:30 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Chaos Grumf Jiffy Staldrache Erebaal Imm Nadrik Storyline RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - The Capture (Part 4)



Fardoc, finally giving into his curiosity now that the smith was safely
secured, replied, 'Who the bloodae hell is Smarth? If ye think someone bae
speakin tae ye, yer mistaken, lad.
'

Gorlend Warpeye grinned widely, his eyes flashing. 'Smarth be Smarth an nae
even yer lads will understand.
' He raised his voice in a hoarse shout,
'SMARTH be wit me! ME CRAFTWORK! '

Fardoc turned to the commander of his company, 'Ahn how are we goin tae git
this lad back tae the Kingdom? We want tae dig ahn drag im, or go for more
conventional magical means?
'

Gorlend struggled in the Ironbreakers grasp, kicking at him with great
effort as he muttered curses and threats under his breath.

The commander answered, 'Sah, the cavern bae blocked solid, ahn ah dunnae
think sittin here diggin while the Warp comes closer bae the bes plan. Ah
say ye throw up one o yer portals ahn we make the fast break, sah.
'

Fardoc nodded, 'Aye, very well. Stand back, lads. '

He retrieved a glittering stone from his belt pouch and gripped it tightly
in his hand, scrunching his face in concentration.

A flash erupted from his fist and a glimmering portal formed in midair.
Gorlend was still muttering under his breath, this time directed at the
portal, though Fardoc and the other dwarves were too preoccupied to pay much
attention to his mad ravings.

'Somethin wrong wit et.. Nae runes. Smarth.. Mine be better. Aye. '

Fardoc, with a quick command, ordered the dwarves surrounding the smith to
carry him through. Once they were safely through, the rest of the
Ironbreakers filed through, followed closely by the priest.

Even once they were within the city of Thaxanos once more, the mad smith was
still raving, calling the priest a liar, and insisting that he was merely
after his craftwork. The priest attempted placating the smith a few
moments, then grew weary of it, and ordered two Ironbreakers to follow him
to the Prison Mine, carrying the traitor between them.

They carried Warpeye down Darkhammer Avenue towards the Undercity and the
entrance to the dreaded black cells. Passing through the gates, the wooden
sign above was prominent, lit by small lanterns on either side.

Welcome to the Thaxanos Prison Mine:
abandon All hope ye who enter here.

Fardoc issued a final glare to the traitor, then turned to the Ironbreakers
following him. 'Take him tae the cell, ahn tell the Warden he is tae await
his trial.
'




Writer: Fardoc

Date Mon Apr 24 06:16:07 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Chaos Grumf Jiffy Erebaal Imm Nadrik Storyline RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - Aftermath of the Tribunal



Fardoc knelt in prayer in the Temple of Nadrik, contemplating the events
of the previous evening, and requesting divine strength to deal with the
tribulations of the coming days.

The tribunal had not gone at All how the priest had anticipated. They had
all, including the High King, assumed that the black cells were impervious
to All magical portal, and that none could escape in that manner. To their
horror and surprise, they were proven wrong when the dwarf escorted in was
none other than the apprentice Fardoc had spared in the tunnels, after
dueling the Cardinal had become too much for him.

The terrified boy was petrified at the very idea of returning to the Warp,
but he had sworn to help Thaxanos as best he could to apprehend the real
traitor once and for all. However, Fardoc was dubious. He had pity for the
apprentice, but that did not mean he held any manner of trust for him. He
had ordered him placed under constant armed guard in his tower atop Mount
Axpvjib, and given him simple woolen robes to wear in place of his tattered
garments.

The matter of the boy was solved easily enough with locked doors and guards,
but the runed tongs the priest had confiscated were a different matter.
They were like nothing he had ever seen, and even the High King had seemed
apprehensive when handling them. Fardoc resolved to have them examined by
Betha as soon as he saw her awake, but securing them was the immediate need.

The Cardinal spent several minutes contemplating the best place to secure
the tongs, seeing as how the traitor seemed capable of entering and exiting
chambers that no others could. With that knowledge, no place seemed ideal,
but Fardoc had to place his faith somewhere.

The traitors rune portals had bested the antimagic worked into the black
cells, but it was yet unknown whether they could best the holy magic worked
into the stones of Lord Nadriks temple. The vault. That was where the
tongs had to be stored. It was the only place, truly, until the traitor was
dealt with.

The holy might of Nadrik had to be enough to stop a raid for the tongs,
surely. Fardoc prayed fervently to the Lord, asking for guidance and
strength as he dealt with these new developments. He prayed for the Lords
aegis inside the temple, preventing the entrance of the Warp, and keeping
the runed tongs secure in the vault beneath the surface.

Reconciled, Fardoc ended his prayer and stood from the floor of the
sanctuary. He proceeded into the newly built healing chamber and nodded to
the friar, before extracting a simple key from his belt. Kneeling, he
unlocked a grate in the center of the dome and descended down a short
staircase. He came into the Undercroft, where he was met by the intense
gaze of a stone likeness of Nadrik, carved intricately in his persona of
Lord Nadrik the Arbiter.

The Cardinal made his way across the Undercroft, and approached the statue
from the side. Hidden behind its immense bulk, there was a round, thick
door built into the cavern wall. It was made of solid metal, dwarf crafted
and blessed by All the holy magic the Cardinal could muster. If the tongs
could be safe anywhere, they would be safe there.

Murmuring a spell, then a holy blessing in turn, the door swung open.
Fardoc placed the tongs inside quickly, then closed the door and reset the
protections.

Now that the tongs were as secure as the dwarf could hope to make them, it
was time to have a private discussion with the young apprentice. Greystone
had had time to rest and recover, and now the priest needed answers.




Writer: Letholdus

Date Mon Apr 24 11:43:05 2017




Writer: Aelaer'mes

Date Mon Apr 24 11:44:18 2017




Writer: Nymaya

Date Mon Apr 24 18:32:07 2017

To All Verminasia Ashtiel Crelius Telthian ( Equinox Imm RP )

Subject Seven Sins - Tempting Wrath


Her daughter twitched and moaned, thrashed and struggled, in the throes
of sleep and she could only watch, only lament.

She herself was familiar with the nightmares though she had come to an
understanding with them. Time and reclusion had offered her the ability to
sort through the memories, to embrace those that had shaped her and banish
the ones that served only to weaken or sully what she was becoming.

None of that mattered now though. There was not the luxury of time as she
slowly paced the parlor, tracing a familiar route. Ash would have to suffer
this affliction until it ended - and nothing set the cold flame of her rage
alight quite like observing her child in pain while contemplating the
unknown.

She was not alone in her concern, but that was of little consequence at the
moment. The darkness was thick outside beneath a heavy stretch of storm
clouds, rain pattered the window in hard torrents and stray breezes kept
catching the flames that danced alluringly in the fireplace.

Servants whispered past the parlor door and at appropriate intervals, the
armored clank of guards. She looked away from Ashtiel and took another sip
of the rich liquor that shimmered amber in her glass, vividly aware that it
was All for show. The guards could not withstand demons, the unarmed
servants would run and unless there was advanced warning, an attack would
likely catch them alone. At worst... Sin, at best, subordinates. If there
was an attack at all.

A crack of lightning disrupted her unpleasant thoughts and brought her
attention back to her daughter, who even then jerked awake with a panicked
expression. Her own turmoil arose in response but she kept it subdued as
she did her best to calm her.

The panic passed, they spoke some and then Ash lapsed into silence, her
attention drawn to the shadows beyond the window. What she saw there,
Nymaya could only guess at, but a sinister and oppressive feeling settled
firmly. Not of being watched, but of waiting. The days to come were going
to be long and restless.




Writer: Pharis

Date Mon Apr 24 21:14:30 2017




Writer: Pharis

Date Mon Apr 24 22:08:01 2017




Writer: Benthic

Date Mon Apr 24 22:45:58 2017




Writer: Aliera

Date Mon Apr 24 22:52:15 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 3: Voices in the Dark



It took several moments before she fully realized that she was still
alive. Every part of her ached and it had taken some time for the Priestess
to come around from the unceremonious drop and equally sudden stop that
landed her in this place. Pushing slowly to her feet she took stock of her
physical condition beyond simply being for the moment, breathing. Gods it
hurt. Fumes of sulfur and acid filled the weighted air and scorched her
lungs with each inhalation, driving her to her knees yet again as she fought
the choking sensation that threatened each attempt at breath.

Her body ached, the jar and impact suggesting a great height from which she
had been cast down from, the familiar ache of bruising beginning to make
itself known. However, save surface wounds of already red and irritated
scrapes and scratches starting to react to the acidic air about her, she
seemed largely intact. Or she was at least physically and she was already
beginning to think that a blessing monumental in this place. Where she was
exactly however, she was not sure.

Above her, disembodied- the dulcet tones of her mother sounded, thick with
emotion and wavering as if a haze above the horizon on a heated day,
dissipating before resolving fully, her name perhaps? It sounded like her
name. An answer caught in her throat, strangled and bringing searing anew
to her lungs and throat, the words vanishing into the darkness in likely
vain attempt to reach the world she had left behind.

Miasma and fog were greatly impairing her ability to see much of anything,
the darkness cloaking and consuming much of anything beyond several feet
before her face but a dull glow caught her eye on the ground at her feet.
Reaching down, she recovered her sword, wielded at the time she was taken
and apparently dropped along with her, quite possibly responsible for a few
of the cuts through her clothing and person. It was such a muted source of
light in this place, the barely visible runes along the blade a feeble echo
of what the fiery lettering she knew it to be outside of this plane.

The Glory of Love, Honor, Magic, Healing, Peace and Good. Wield the Truth
and you will be Free!

The words brought the faintest of smiles to her rapidly drying lips. She
believed those words, lived them, among others and it was living by her code
that had brought her here, trying to save them. Attempting to summon any
other form of light proved fruitless and so she gingerly found her footing,
keeping her sword extended before her as she attempted to navigate the
shadowy plane with a cautious pace.

Mercerions sonorous tenor cut through the darkness for the briefest of
moments, but the words were frustratingly garbled, only hints of syllable
and tone reaching her, understanding stubbornly refusing to follow. Again
she answered, willing her voice to be stronger if only for a moment as if it
could in some way pierce the veil of whatever it was that held her captive
here but she knew with a growing amount of certainty that they likely only
reached her own ears.

Frustrated, she moved further into the dark, shades of shadow and specter.
It was a great space of nothingness, filled with a horrendous energy to it,
a sickening and leeching void stretching out in her field of vision as far
as she could see. Stumbling forward in the mired gloom, a sudden jolted
shifted her path, turning her crimson rimmed and burning gaze upon a new
sight, the fabric of nightmares coming into view, and she screamed so loud
that even the Keep could hear.




Writer: Benthic

Date Mon Apr 24 23:12:54 2017




Writer: Denth

Date Tue Apr 25 00:50:02 2017

To All Imm Hasaki Rosaeria

Subject A quarrel



A quiet evening sun shone with a soft Vermillion brilliance. Denth rose
late coughing dust off the cover of a leather bound tome, the exhaustion
seeping through as acid burnt scars covering his forearms screamed bloody
murder in burning agony. Yet another evening wasted by candlelight that
failed to illuminate the obscure knowledge he seeked.


Dragging his feet through hallways, Denth looked through his {oSatchel of
Bardic Supplies
chugging a frosty mug to wash away the taste of a stale
drool from his uncomfortable sleep. Turning on a dime, he walks face first
into a door post and lands on his behind with a quiet "OOOOMph", a bright
bruise starting to form in the middle of his forehead.

Grumbling at the wooden door, Denth mutters some choice words, half
stumbling half slouching in a sloshing shuffle, walking an ungainly gait in
a long trek onwards towards the museum. A blistering sun beat down sweat on
his brow while a still wind yielded not breeze till he started an uphill
climb, where rocks tried their best to trip his oversized feet as he
lumbered uphill towards the building of culture and lore. Two voices, both
precious to him spoke with hushed tones inside, and he quickened his pace
beyond benches of {nbrown leather
and black marble. Stumbling in quietly,
soft snatches of conversation wafted like fragrance to his ears, gradually
growing in volume as he got closer in step by step. We are searching as
well...
Do you not think I care, the lady has been taken, Finding a
comfortable spot on the marble bench, Denth tiredly slumps to himself while
the two he most needs to talk to continue on paying him little heed. There
might be some truth to what you say but we will enter blindly ..
Be
careful of your tone knight, this flashing knife cuts sharply, how can
accuse me like this while the lady is missing
The words continue but Denth
pays them no mind, the words sounding like thunder in his misbegotten hung
over ears. He softly nods off before being woken with a start, as the
volume of the argument grows louder, "Denth, will you stand for this while
she holds a knife to my throat? Is this what you consider an ally? How can
you deceive everyone like this
" "I DID NOT hold it at your throat, I merely
wave it in warningly in MY own defense. Like I KEEP SAYING, thERE aRE TWO
PERSONs, IT wAS THe OTHER
"

Attempting to interject weakly, Denth tries to defuse the explosive
situation, but makes it worse the arguments scream like an angry hornet
threatening to destroy what little sanity he has left. Weakened from his
brush with the aspects, Denth has no strength left to break the escalating
spat between the two, he weakly attempts to share what little he has learned
the angry voices swarm above his head.

Finally getting up off his bench, Denth loses his patience and stomps off.
Too much anger, too much hatred of a history of blood feud, Denth feels
hopeless unable to get even these two to speak amicably, much less work
together. He kicks at a rock on the ground, stubbing a toe and cracking a
toenail instead. Yelping with another fresh pain in his foot, Denth wonders
to himself if there is any hope of a peaceful world, when these two cannot
even set aside their dispute in politics with the peril of the world at
stake.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Tue Apr 25 02:21:52 2017

To Immortal Religion Equinox All Storyline

Subject Entities of Sin Part 5: the Past that Binds



Mercerion and Fardoc continued through the ruins now, and to be honest,
the Crown General was thankful for the company. He had been alone in these
ruins for nearly three days, searching in what had turned up thus far, as a
fruitless search. He was now at the point, through the grit, grime, and
exhaustion, that he was starting to fray at the edges, prone now to small
fits of frustration. He was so sure when he came here, that this would give
an answer, or a direction. It wasn't his pride that stung him however, it
was the thought that he had potentially wasted valuable time in saving
lives, His shield general included. It was on this thought, that Hasaki's
voice entered his mind, "Sir, we can hear the Lady Shield screaming in the
keep!"

In an instant, All perception of the weariness in him was pushed down, away
from him as if a switch hand been thrown, and a light came on. Swiftly as
he had ever managed before, he uttered blessings of protection and reached
for one of the odd crystals he'd collected within. Focusing on this, he
picked a target on Althainia, and openened a Nexus, jumping through it
nearly before it finished opening.

Swiftly he made his way back to Gareth, the guards at the gate pausing as he
ran past, looking so much less himself due to the exhaustion and grime. He
sensed the Sentinel in the war room, and rushed to join him, getting there
before the sentinel had even finished blessing his armors. No sooner had
Mercerion caught his breath, then a terror-filled scream filled the keep,
accompanying a pressure that seemed to test the very fabric of reality, as
well as the wards in place about the keep. The Crown General could actually
feel the strain of the wards, and reached for his holy symbol. He began to
pray, shouting out the benedictions of the Righteous faiths, encouraging the
knights around him to do the same.

Again the pressure came, and strained against the wards of the keep, and
Aliera's screams could be heard, followed by the mocking of one of the
Demons. Mercerion's other hand went to his blade, while he prayed again,
this time to Nadrik that Aliera knew the Knights were working for a way to
free her, that He grant her His protection.

As the Demonic presence gave way, and the keep returned to its prior state,
Hasaki began to fill Thrakhath in on what had happened thus far, and it was
here that Mercerion remembered a history lesson. One involving the sacking
of Serpantol, and where the humans fled to from there, as well as just how
old the LaFortinas name actually was.

He was also reminded of a certain Cardinal whom resided in Storm Keep, who
may just have the answers he sought. It appeared it was time to arrange a
meeting.





Writer: Thrakhath

Date Tue Apr 25 09:46:34 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Tue Apr 25 09:47:30 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Tue Apr 25 09:47:54 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Tue Apr 25 09:47:57 2017




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Tue Apr 25 15:17:17 2017

To Knighthood All Immortal Religion Storyline

Subject Generally Speaking



The yinn paced around the War Room. He looked slightly more anxious his
usual stoic self. But only ever so slightly more anxious.

He had just returned from the brief trip to the Shinalstin Catacombs, in the
company of the Lord Knight Mercerion. They were there to find answers,
answers the Lord Knight thought to possibly hidden in the Temple of the
Dracon.

Answers that will lead them to Aliera.

The aged paladin was not around for most of what transpired, given that his
hours of alert service differed from many - but he had been mostly brought
up to date to what transpired.

The Lady Shield taken. General of the Shield. No, more importantly, a
knight, a fellow comrade-in-arms taken by a dark entity. To the yinn, even
one page is one member of Gareth too many to be taken.

Yet now they seek for answers, for clues.

Ordered back to the Keep to maintain command and discipline over those that
remain while the Lord Knight Mercerion operated by himself, the yinn was
reminded of the classical moral dilemma presented to future pages, to
aspirants. "What would one do when your comrades are in danger, yet you are
tasked to hold and guard a post?"

Indeed, the yinn knew that of All times, these would be most trying. There
will be those who feel compelled to strike forward, to zealously uncover and
turn every stone that may lead to Aliera. But the yinn knew better. This
was a time for cool minds to prevail - he would see that the Order maintain
its discipline, its single-mindedness in their cause and purpose.

The yinn stopped pacing, his steeled nature taking center stage. He would
pray. Faith. The pious will be protected by his deity. He would go to the
Chapel of Fallen Heroes.




Writer: Aliera

Date Tue Apr 25 18:16:38 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 4: Voices in the Dark



The form that had staggered into her was so far gone that she could
scarcely tell it a man, or what was left of one. Desiccated and spiritless
it had been All but fully drained of life, no energy left in it now to even
be leeched save by the last steps of the corpse before it fell into her,
stopping with finality at her feet. A prayer for his soul left her lips
before she lifted her gaze to focus on what was truly before her and she
felt her knees buckle, for this was not one poor unfortunate soul, it was
one of thousands.

She had found them, those taken from the streets of every corner of Algoron.
They were dulled now, their life force dimmed and being leeched away by the
very fabric of this place. Agony pulsed from them in nauseating waves,
wounds pulled tight in decay and injury, threatening to burst but refusing
to do so, the pain saturating everything around them. Those still standing
appeared only moments from death and wishing for it as they shambled,
listless and erratic over the half-consumed bodies of the newly dead towards
a singular destination still just beyond her sight, though she felt it.

An eloquent baritone tembre sounded, again just beyond comprehension, though
she knew it to be Thanataels, her friend and ally reaching into the depths
that consumed her in this place. They were coming more sparsely now and
time passing she could be certain. Though there was limited light and none
of it akin to the sun or moon the passage of time was marked in other ways,
her strength was faltering, an unusual strain on her. How long had she been
here, hours... Days?

The rending of her flesh drew her from both her musings of the hour and the
study of the individuals before her for a moment as she cried out in pain,
the piercing sound reaching beyond the veil between planes once more and
echoing across the stones of the Keep before leaving her cut off from her
Knights once more entirely.

Following the throng of people and keeping her sword raised for some
pittance of attempt at using the dim runes to secure her footing, Aliera was
all but pushed in another direction now. Those bodies left standing, the
thousands left, thickening into a tightening of bodies that felt akin to a
bottle neck trap on the field.




Writer: Aliera

Date Tue Apr 25 20:45:07 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 5: A place at the table.



They fanned around a dais monumental in scale, surrounding it as a
thrumming, pulsating energy spread in All directions, acting as both tether
to the drawn and warning to the weary. But she seemed the only weary one
here. A threatening aura now quite visible even to her eyes, though she had
felt it in some measure since being dropped here.

Lord Nadrik preserve us. She whispered, the words dry on her lips and
stinging her throat as the Bishop began to pray for All she was worth to the
Lord of Honor that the horror before her eyes would not come upon the world
of Algoron.

The darkness intensified the closer she drew near, becoming a palpable thing
broken only by the scores of bodies that pressed in against her and
obscuring sight, the ardent umbral mist granting fleeting glimpses of vision
to the macabre sight before her. Stairs graduated upwards, half ringing
what could only be described as banquet of souls. Served as if upon
platters and snatched up as they drew closer the corpses of children,
elderly and All manner of men and elves littered the great table in what
wretched pieces were left of their souls and bodies.

Nearest to her and coating the table and dais with the fine sheen and icy
cold of his nature, rife with the malevolence, sat Wrath. It was drawn
inward here, the dark, condensing and shifting restlessly to form the shape
of a figure that stretched tall above the gruesome table he attended. The
shadows of his being writhed with their own life and squirmed in an
unsettling way that spoke of some feral sentience and made her skin crawl as
it obscured the form almost beyond recognition. Horns of matte black
spiraled into the air, lending even greater presence to the figure and
drawing the eye upward to the pair of glimmering, witch-light purple eyes.
The view of the occasional claw accompanied the sickening scrape of razor
sharp tips across table and bone alike as it dined in nauseating fashion on
the corpse currently before him.

Other voices called to her, the gruff growling tones of Thrakhath, the less
familiar low and honeyed voice of the red, Cierans clear baritone and the
worried speech of her Squires... All of them crashed upon the seclusion of
her location and the focus of her sight as if water on the rocks, splintered
and dispersed to the air nearly upon recognition.

She had no idea how long she stood there, unable to tear her gaze from the
ghastly sight before her nor her grip from her sword. Anger and a greatly
appalling need to both wretch and claim some revenge for these souls being
so consumed warred within her, only her resolution to deny both keeping her
rooted to the spot, for the moment.

Her silver gaze was drawn to yet another at this table, the bulging folds of
sickly skin and cloying scent heralding even from this distance what could
only be the face of gluttony. Pools of sulfuric acid feasted on the buffet
of souls before him, drinking in the essence of them even as he took his
fill, dulled and graying skin catching on the pair of tusks sprouted from
his mouth and spilling blood to the thick and greasy beard hanging over a
bulging waist. He was clad in finery fit for an Emperor without any of the
taste accounting for such a title and extravagant dress, a robe of dark blue
barely containing each roll of flabby flesh that enveloped the form.
Bedecked in All manners of excessive jewelry, gold lent a glint to his
person even in this sallow and fickle light, rings and chains of offices
unearned, bracelets and even adhered to his skin in the archaic image of a
boar. Additional nails scratched against the smooth stone surface of the
table and dais alike, claws and cloven hooves that trampled All beneath him
as he gorged on flesh and spirit.




Writer: Aliera

Date Tue Apr 25 20:54:12 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 6: A place at the table.



From his side another spoke, even as he took up a claw full of those
sacrifices at his feet, the voice augmented by clicks as it sounded, We were
most pleased to see your part played so... Deliciously...
Pausing to pop
a child into its mandibles as if it were a grape and making Aliera gasp in
horror before it continued, ... We can not wait to see what happens next.
The figure was Sloth, she was certain, for she had heard the clicks
skittering in the dark before in the table of Devion. Clad in armor of a
kind, the exoskeleton of the creature was combined of mottled plates of a
sickly green splotched with bruised purple and spots of aged yellow, the
entirety of the being glistening with a viscous, oily sheen that dripped to
the dais and those below in acidic globules, drawing the occasional scream
of agony for those still left alive to do so. Thick, short limbs supported
the weight of the horrific creature, ending in serrated claws that tore into
the bodies before it, freeing the souls to be consumed. Familiar eyes of
electric green of no less than eight eyes focused on the feast before it
before it reached out with another whip of an antennae nearly three times
her own height grabbed another victim by the ankle and fed it into the
jagged pincer of a mouth that it had previously spoken from.

The recipient of his comment sat further beyond, his features slightly more
obscured from this distance but no less impressive, the dragonesque form of
Greed that she had fought against in the desert. Easily greater in size
than a troll, the mottled wyrm of a creature was covered in scale, dull and
eroded over in patina, each so angular and jagged that they appeared to cut
and scrape at everything alongside it and not covered in an armor of its
own. Great wings aided in keeping it aloft and balanced on two legs, three
pairs of the muscle and leather working in unison in a nearly hypnotic
fashion that drew the eye. It glimmered in this dim light and from this
distance, amongst the countless horns and spines sprouting from it, jewels
and gems of every known form encrusted the creature. Molten and hollow eyes
burned down at its current pray with a demonic fire as it ate and seeming to
grow stronger with the effort.





Writer: Aliera

Date Tue Apr 25 21:00:19 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 7: A place at the table.



They were All growing stronger, this collection of sin, devouring and
consuming every living thing that came within range of the table of
offerings. Hundreds of them had been slaughtered, if not more and the
Priestess turned her gaze from the raised table enough to attempt to take
stock of those still with her, terror anew striking her as yet another claw
or was it teeth, raking over her skin in the darkness. The results of her
survey weighted her with an even greater dread. The auras of the sins
before her were growing in might and strength, the evil in them becoming
increasingly heavy in the air and on her person even as the number of those
trapped here beside her grew few.

Movement in the shadow at the far side of the table revealed a slender,
feminine hand before revealing the visage of a quite comely female dwarf,
though the beard appeared to be missing. She was visible only a moment
before taking a soul of her own from the center of the table and dragging it
back into the darkness as well, the terrified scream coming moments before
her own strength increased. There were two missing here, from this table,
though they were felt, Envy and Pride, growing also in strength with the
sacrifices as they were taken.

Another commotion struck the Priestess from her observations, white
knuckling her fist over the hilt of her sword as a pair of massive yellow
eyes came into view behind the dais, dwarfing the table upon it and sins in
attendance. Fear struck her mute even of scream as it became evident that
those dining turned and paid homage to the being, the scent of their fear
mingling with that of those they had been consuming. It was beyond her
understanding of evil, but instead primordial, predating the Gods
themselves. All of the sudden it was certain, this the Sins served would
not strike Althainia, or Arkane, Verminasia or Abaddon, it would not focus
on the battle minded Fort or Sands of Thalosia, the Keeps were not secure,
nor the halls of the Horde and Eggbreakers, the Mountain of the Dwarves,
Forest of the Elves or Towers of the Conclave. It would come to them all.
Finding her tongue, another prayer flew from her lips just as visions filled
her mind, stealing the scene before her from sight with their intensity as
the plan was laid bare before her. The gaze of those yellow eyes and the
horrors of the what was to come enclosed her where she stood consuming the
last of her strength, the prayer on her lips and even the dark before the
body of the Priestess fell limp on the floor, amongst the bodies of the
dead.




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Wed Apr 26 12:47:46 2017

To Knighthood All Immortal Religion Storyline

Subject Into the Light



The yinn heard the call to arms - rather, more accurately, the call to
prayers from the Lord Knight Mercerion.

Last he knew, Mercerion was off on an audience with some evil entity who
claimed to have information on Aliera. But that was moot now, the urgency
in Mercerion's voice spurred the yinn into action. He had only recently
taken to the field, slaying the heathen hobgoblin Boof. The yinn was ever
ready for action, both frontline and in the back - praying and preparing
knights, spiritually. The moment it seemed, called for the latter.

Mercerion was already in prayers in the Temple and the aged paladin promptly
joined him. Several pages, squires and knights alike arrived shortly to
join the two generals in prayers.

As they prayed, the skies darkened and the divine wards that protect the
Keep glow, seemingly in response to an assault.

This only served to strengthen the knights' will as they prayed, united.
Mercerion had sent word to their allies in other factions and organizations
- there was a powerful coalition of men and women of the faithful of the
Light now - praying - their collective minds praying for Aliera's return.

As the skies darkened, a singular star remained bright and shining. The
Generals both rushed to the top of the Tower of Light within the Keep. From
the battlements, this was even clearer - against the darkness, a singular
powerful beacon of Light prevailed. The yinn recognized that power. The
spirit of divinity. That holiness. His deity.

A gentle voice was heard. The yinn was certain he heard it. He knew. He
prayed fervently for his deity's aid. He knew the power of the will of the
faithful.

The radiant glow from the star intensified, now blindly bright. The yinn
did not turn away however. He bathed in the glory of the Light. He knew
the familiar sensation. He was ready to charge into the Light, knowing that
it will bring him to where he needed to be - but this was not to be his
moment for now - the Light had enough power and strength to transport only
one - and for now, this time, it would be in the best interest of the
knights to have their Lord Knight strike forth. The yinn was tired, his
mental strength sapped.

As Mercerion disappeared into the Light, the aged paladin stood by the
battlements, his holy mace still ready and his gaze skyward. The yinn would
keep watch here, for the next few hours. Almost as if in response to the
knights' and allies collective prayers, the wards protecting the ancient
keep glowed in gold, empowered by the Gods of Light. This vigil came to a
sudden end after a few hours up at the battlements.

In a sudden intensive flash of divine light, Mercerion and Aliera appeared
at the top of the tower. Aliera was visibly shaken and wounded, covered in
some form of acid, her skin burnt. Both Mercerion and yinn then attempted
to steady and hold Aliera, carrying her wounded form to the Temple.

The yinn's mental faculties were stretched at the moment and he knew his
time active draw quickly to a close. Once at the Temple, he would evoke the
healing touch of the paladins, hoping that the divine powers vested on him
will at least alleviate some of Aliera's wounds.

The rest of the healing will come, from help from others as well as with
time. Aliera was returned. Now Aliera must heal.

Bowing in prayers, the paladin would pray in the paladins' chapel as his
mind entered into a deep meditative state.

The Gods of Light have prevailed.

He was thankful.




Writer: Mercerion

Date Wed Apr 26 22:20:18 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Equinox

Subject Entities of Sin Part 6: One Coin, Two Sides.



The Library was clearly infrequently visited as Mercerion paced the
disheveled shelves waiting for him to arrive. The purpose of this meeting,
He had hoped, would fit well with the location. He had hoped it would not
be missed by Telthian. When the Cardinal arrived, Mercerion made a show of
respect, actively returning his weapons to their lacquered scabbards and
showing empty hands. The Cardinal was clearly a capable man, but it was
important that both men be at ease in this conversation, and any idea of
threats between them be absolved before it could begin in earnest. Telthian
inclined his head to Mercerion, and put his own blade away, in return
offering Mercerion an enhanced recovery. Mercerion politely declined, and
thanked Telthian for the intended gesture. "Lets get to it then. These
Aspects are a danger to us both - To All of Algoron. They are evil, born
From Necrucifer's blood whent it was spilt on Algoron, but do not serve
Him."

Mercerion nodded as he continued to listen to Telthian explain how these
creatures first appeared in Storm Keep, further reminding Mercerion of the
history lessons and the pointed feelings he had observed that this was
indeed the man he needed to seek out. Mercerion nodded again, and mentioned
he had done some research on this matter, and the answers to questions given
by L'Aznor when Aliera was taken. The name LaFortinas was brought up, and
inquired what Telthian knew of that.

"I will explain in time, in exchange for an Agreement. Like it or not,
Mamoritai, we must work together." Telthian continued, "It is clear to us
both that these spirits are not capable of being destroyed by physical
means, we have both fought them." Mercerion nodded once in agreement and
continued to listen. "Because of the origin of their birth, They cannot be
killed, but can be condemned or sealed away. I will elaborate more on this
point shortly." Mercerion removed his kabuto and tucked it under his arm at
this point, and a trained eye may easily noticed the exhaustion in his
features as he listened, thinking and processing Telthian's words. "You
have witnessed the markings, on Lothaw and Zarina?" Mercerion nodded and
added, "Ancient, Demonic in some form, but far older than I am personally
familiar with. Hasaki was marked, though differently when He was taken. I
had heard it was similar to Ashtiel's abduction." Telthian responded, "How
similar? Same as your priestesses abduction, or something different
altogether?" Mercerion informed Telthian of the report of Aliera's
abduction, and how she was suddenly and wholly consumed.

The two briefly discussed Hasaki and Ashtiel's abduction, and the thoughts
arose of the differences in their own abductions, and the one of Aliera,
wherein she was kept. Telthian believed that they were not returned of
Mercy, that perhaps it was a means of entrapment. Mercerion understood the
concern, and noted it. After a time of discussion between the two,
regarding what these Demons serve, they two men discussed a plan. It was
apparent that Telthian had a lead on the means to bind these creatures, but
would require more of the demonic script to do such, as well as a discussion
with a man whom may well know the full rite. It was also decided that the
rescue of those captured by these demons would become paramount. Those
within that realm may have much of the knowledge needed to stop this looming
threat. Mercerion agreed to work with Telthian, as well as to call a
Cease-fire between Gareth and Storm while this threat loomed. While
Telthian could not speak for Storm Keep, Mercerion was confident that they
if Telthian was willing to work with Gareth, Storm would not be far behind.
The Agreement had the parties preparing in a pincer. One group looking for
the rite to bind these demons away, the other looking to save those taken.
At last, a plan was beginning to form, and the pieces would begin to fall
into place.





Writer: Mercerion

Date Wed Apr 26 22:32:10 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Equinox

Subject Entities of Sin: Part 7: Only a plank between one and perdition.



Mercerion escorted the last of the representatives he could reach at the
time into the lair of the elder Bronze. Of the people he could currently
sense, He chose Kyrlynn of the Vallens, after speaking with Juelian whom
would have to depart, Kaelissa of Althainia, and Fardoc of the Dwarves. He
had not been able to reach any within the Wrath, and Arkane was quiet at the
time, likely still searching for their missing.

Greetings were exchanged between those present and Mercerion thanked them
for coming, and got right to the point. "I have met with Telthian, and I
have learned a good deal from him about what we are dealing with. These
Aspects appear to be born of Necrucifer's blood, when it was spilt into the
land, and as they are of Necrucifer, they are beyond mortal means to kill.
It is clear however that while they are of Necrucifer, they do not serve
Him." Mercerion paced some as he spoke, "There is a way to seal them, as
they have been sealed before. Currently, Telthian is working on that
matter, but he requires more information about the Rite. The Symbols that
we've seen on Lothaw when he was taken, it is IMPERATIVE that we recover and
scribe those symbols whenever we see them, they are part of the rite to seal
these enemies away." Mercerion looked again to each person before
continuing, "It is our joint belief that these creatures are preparing some
sort of cataclysmic attack on Algoron. Telthian has his reasons to believe
he is on a lead to getting what is needed to seal them away, and while he is
doing that, We are going to focus on bringing home those whom have been
taken. With luck, we will learn more about these things and their plan, so
we can prepare for it."

There was a murmur among the gathered and Mercerion gave it time to pass
before continuing, "It will likely take a combined effort of most, if not
all of Algoron in order to succeed in fending this threat off. As such, I
have decided to offer a ceasefire to Storm Keep, that we do not hinder
eachother's efforts. The Demons now have to fight on two fronts, and can
ill afford to pay too much mind on Telthian's effort, lest our incursion be
successful, and their preparations be disrupted if not halted. Inversely,
They cannot pay us too much mind, lest Telthian manages to seal them before
their plan comes to fruition. We will bring home those taken. I am
counting on Althainia, with the assistance of Kyrlynn, to investigate this
machine to see what potential can There was a murmur among the gathered and
Mercerion gave it time to pass before continuing, "It will likely take a
combined effort of most, if not All of Algoron in order to succeed in
fending this threat off. As such, I have decided to offer a ceasefire to
Storm Keep, that we do not hinder eachother's efforts. The Demons now have
to fight on two fronts, and can ill afford to pay too much mind on
Telthian's effort, lest our incursion be successful, and their preparations
be disrupted if not halted. Inversely, They cannot pay us too much mind,
lest Telthian manages to seal them before their plan comes to fruition. We
will bring home those taken. I am counting on Althainia, with the
assistance of Kyrlynn, to investigate this machine to see what potential can
be gleaned from it."

Kaelissa nodded, and Mercerion would later pass the schematics onto Kyrlynn,
having forgotten to actually hand them off in the meeting.

"from the Dwarves, I will require some weapons, arms, and perhaps a few
charges. We may damned well need some distraction and confusion if we are
to incur to their realm for a rescue attempt." Fardoc nodded and gave his
assurances that that was something he could do. With that, Mercerion
dispersed the group, he knew there would be questions, and that more would
need to be shared in time, but he had his own preparations to make, and
after All the searching and meetings, his body was exhausted.





Writer: Mercerion

Date Wed Apr 26 22:42:27 2017

To All Immortal Storyline Equinox Religion

Subject Entities of Sin: Part 8: Force your way.



Knights, To the Temple! Came Mercerion's call. The Wards of the Keep
had begun to strain again, and a darkness was filling the skies over Gareth
Keep. Knights poured into the temple at the General's call, and he shouted
above the din "Bow your heads, my brethren, let your prayers be heard! Let
these foul demons know whom You serve, and that we will not yield! Let even
your General, trapped in their realm, know that you stand now beside her in
thought and prayer, even if we can't in person!"

Heads bowed as a multitude of prayers ascended to the heavens, Mercerion
adding his own, asking for the strength and endurance of the Holy Host be
given to those beset by these Aspects. That the world knew Gareth was
prepared to stand against them. Every knight in the keep could feel the
effect of the prayers as the wards seemed to gain an upper hand on the
pressure the demons were placing. They creaked and groaned, but the
presence of the demons seemed to lift, and a feeling of righteousness
briefly flooded the temple. The Knights were washed in Holy purpose, before
the keep was again slammed by the demonic pressure. They were battling
back. Mercerion called out to each virtuous person to pray, calling upon
all of Algoron whom could hear him, to pray as the Knights prepared to push
back the wickedness. Inquiries came as the spiritual battle raged over the
keep, Demons pushing against prayers as the wards of Gareth strained
further, until All at once the prayers of those on Algoron joined those of
the Knights, seeming to reinforce the keep, and force a hole in the
otherwise impenetrable darkness over the keep and Althainia. From there, a
vivid shining star could be seen, and a holy presence resounded within the
Keep.

"There comes a time when the Shepherd must tend to His flock by warding off
the Wolf. Choose one, and take my hand
"

"The Sentinel of the Father stands ready" Came Thrakhath's reply, his lance
at the ready as he glanced at Mercerion.

Mercerion simply smiled at Thrakhath and offered, "I will return." Before
drawing his blade. "The Wrath of the Son is prepared." Mercerion gripped
the blade and offered a prayer to Nadrik, "Blades with whom I have lived,
Blades with whom I shall die, serve righteousness once more. Seek one last
heart of Evil, still one last life of pain. Cut well, old friends before
our farewell.
"

With that, Mercerion reached out to take the hand of the holy presence, and
was forcibly pulled from the Keep in the midst of an incredible strike of
Holy power which would see the wards of the Keep aglow for nearly half a day
afterwards.

Suddenly, All was dark, as he was brought forcefully through a tear in
reality, into the realm of these Aspects. He was stunned by the darkness,
as well as the horrors about him. He could sense more than see, the
suffering and the overwhelming terror of this dark place. Some horrid feast
was underway, and the food. The food was the people whom had been taken.
Mercerion came to his senses at the urging of the Holy entity not to linger,
and pushed his way past the disoriented, and terrified people until he saw
Aliera crumpled on the ground, unconscious. As he rushed towards her, a
demonic howl was raised as the Aspects apparently noticed the intrusion.
Mercerion's knuckles grew white around his blade as he got to Aliera first,
kneeling to put her in a carry over his shoulder. It took him too long
however, as L'Aznor arrived, hissing angrily at him, "She issss MINE! "
Mercerion turned, avoiding the temptation to strike the creature and gave
the parting words of, "She was NEVER yours! " As Mercerion made towards the
portal, L'Aznor attempted to seize Aliera, the acid burning through her hair
and opening terrible burns across her face and neck, as well as destroying
much of her hair.

Mercerion twisted away from the demon and sprinted to deliverance in the
form of the portal.




Writer: Denth

Date Thu Apr 27 10:32:50 2017

To All imm shalonesti kantilles

Subject A bard's tail



Placing a sheet of vellum smoothly onto a clipboard, the brewmaster dips
a fresh quill to an ink bottle, attempting to write words of hope and grace.
Words that would offer some small measure of condolences to his friends
brought low by despair. But these words refuse to let themselves be
written. What is going on? Queried Denth wrinkling his nose in
puzzlement, why will the words of hope not show? .

Waves of abject misery flow over him, and threaten to bring the brewmaster
to his knees. Leaning heavily on his trusty, Denth wills himself not to
fall, the words he needs to send to the two in need too important to let go.






Looking up, Denth finds himself once again under the shadow of a tower of
bone, the broken wall of rib bones drawing him onwards, compeling Denth to
go where he fears most, again. Stumbling ever onwards, the brewmaster's
crippled gait takes his feet past All the passages of bones, to find several
portals of green, white, blue and red guarded overly well. Casting off
concerns for safety, Denth jumps into the fray. He nimbly dodges the portal
guardian and acolytes, but the lich standing to the side sends several
blasts of painful acid, melting the vellum on his clipboard.

Spinning his staff in agitated rage, Denth brawls with a pugilist's skills
till his foes are laid low. He rips off the burnt parchment singed by acid,
and places a fresh journal on the clipboard to pen his thoughts anew.
Uncertain of what else to write to dispell the fears and pain, Denth
proceeds to draw a picture of a cat instead, using his many inks to color it
in. Yes, this might work, the brewmaster mutters quietly under his breath




Writer: Arreana

Date Thu Apr 27 14:44:50 2017

To All Althainia Knighthood Justice Immortal Taliena Religion Storyline Roleplay

Subject Not Alone: Patience 1/3


/ Not Alone: The Steady Drip of Time, Arreana, feat: n/a 08 /
| Time passed, heedless of those who wished for it to wait. But Time did not |
| rush either. It moved along at the most steady, predictable pace. Arreana |
| had heard an argument that contended that time was not real, that it was |
| merely a construct of consciousness. A way to order a universe which was, at |
| its very core, chaotic. |
| |
| It was a solid argument, with points that were difficult to debate. Still, |
| Arreana wasn't certain she accepted it. At least not wholly. Perhaps there |
| were elements of time which were constructed. After all, though night and |
| day kept on their steady rhythm, and the seasons came and went, nature |
| record the passage of time in numbers. |
| |
| Like time, nature didn't rush, nor did it wait. It continued along at a |
| pace nearly as steady as time itself. Animals mated in cycles, during |
| certain seasons or under certain conditions. The trees lost their leaves in |
| the fall, but returned to life in the spring while the flowers bloomed. |
| Nature marked the passage of time in its own way. |
| |
| Arreana looked into the mirror. She'd never had a full vanity, but she'd |
| installed a half-body mirror to the back of one of her armoire doors. Time, |
| real or not, had been kind to her. Though there were lines in some of the |
| usual places, she still possessed the vigor of youth, and her ever-smiling |
| countenance still retained much of the beauty that she'd borne throughout |
| her womanhood. The beauty was simply matured now, like a wine properly aged |
| and maintained. |
| |
| Turning away from the mirror, Arreana took a shawl off of one of the hooks |
| on the other door, then closed up her armoire and headed out. As she walked |
| from her home through the city of Althainia. |
| |
| Another gift from time: she was well-known, a sort-of celebrity. |
| |
| When Arreana had been forced to flee Malachive's invading forces, she was |
| merely a woman coming of age, suddenly left alone as everyone she had loved |
| and known had died or otherwise been lost to her knowledge. Worse, she was |
| part of a number of similar races who were forced to venture out from their |
| homelands and reveal themselves to the world. It had been a frightening, |
| uncomfortable time. But, as time was wont to do, it soon passed. |
| |
| Arreana had fought alongside the heroes of Justice, becoming one herself, |
| with time. Taliena had raised her All the way up to Bishop within Her |
| church, a recognition of the time Arreana had dedicated to her. But time had |
| also played the role of adversary as well. |
\ \





Writer: Ashtiel

Date Thu Apr 27 15:39:49 2017

To All Verminasia Equinox Imm Shadow Religion

Subject Seven Sins - Suffering


The sea of souls pressed in on her, forcing her to move forward with
them. Wails of terror, tortured cries of agony filled the realm around her
to echo in an endless and discordant chorus of screams. Drawn and anguished
faces peered at her, looked hopelessly through her as the tormented flowed
onward in front of her, an endless throng of despair.


The stinging caress of unseen claws rakes the skin of her back at the same
time that she feels the bite of fangs pierce into her shoulder and she makes
a startled sound of pain before she draws the will to let out a defiant roar
in anger. The gaze of yellow eyes appear before her, their menacing stare
focusing on her through the crowd. Terror, unfamiliar and paralyzing,
floods her and her screams spill freely from her to join the macabre song of
suffering.


She wakes screaming, the sound cutting violently through the silence that
hangs heavily in the parlor. The partially opened window allows a chill
breeze into the room that billows through the emerald lace of curtains
illuminated by the gray light of foredawn.

Her stomach churns as she sits up only to be assailed suddenly by the
sensation of something crawling beneath her skin. The demon within her
moves, writhing as it burrows deeper and its taunting words fill her mind in
an arrogant hiss, 'Two days.. '




Writer: Gavriel

Date Thu Apr 27 18:02:27 2017

To All Althainia imm roleplay rp

Subject A Load of Bull



The stands of the arena weren't packed, but they weren't empty either.
Coins and curses were exchanged in equal measure as wagers were made and
paid on the events of the arena below. This wasn't Gavriel's first visit to
the Bulldancers', so he had some idea of what to expect. When he'd made the
move from Southmark in Mamoriland out west to Darkfen, the group he'd
traveled with made a detour, one last bit of fun before facing the upcoming
war. Back then, Gav was even greener than when he'd come to the capital,
and he'd been too distracted by the scantily-clad female dancers to focus on
the seedier aspects of the arena.

This time, he was counting on that seedier element. Coin wasn't the only
thing passed around in the stands. You could usually hear All kinds of news
and information there. Gav didn't care much for gossip, as a rule, but he
couldn't afford to ignore any possibilities. Peoples' lives were at stake.

"Yah, yah, me can show you stoled childs!"

Gavriel had to choke down his distaste. As another rule, he didn't like
dealing with goblins except with a blade. He'd seen, and defended against,
too many goblin raids on the borderlands when he'd lived in Southmark. But
this was the only lead he'd hit on, and he was desperate. He followed the
goblin out of the stands, to a secluded spot beneath them, hoping for the
best but expecting the worst.

The goblin met his expectations, as well as his sword. After its failed
ambush, Gav found a crude symbol of Devion scarred on its flesh. Disgust
mingled with disappointment as Gavriel cleaned his blade and stormed away
from the body. Nobody at the arena had any information. He'd wasted his
time, and the time of those who'd been taken.




Writer: Gavriel

Date Thu Apr 27 18:12:26 2017

To All Althainia imm roleplay rp

Subject Out of the Darkness



After his failure at the arena, Gavriel tried another direction. He had
set out to investigate the Shadow Grove because of the lingering shadows
that were sen when the people had first been taken. That had been a bust as
well, but there were other dark places in the world.

Gav dropped the last few feet down into the tunnels of the underground city
of Lokhaer. He'd heard about a place within, a so-called asylum for the
insane, but it was clear that was just a ruse, a re-branding of the torture
of the gold-auraed elves by the dark ones under another name. That made
this place both dark and already known for stealing away and corrupting
innocents, which made it a likely place to investigate as far as Gavriel
could tell.

It became clear after only a bit of questioning and exploration, though,
that the asylum operators really were only interested in elves. Still, Gav
was determined that this not be another wasted venture. Maybe he couldn't
help those taken by the demon aspect, but he'd be damned if he'd let these
innocents continue to suffer.

Security was practically non-existent here, the place was mostly run by
office staff, though Gav suspected the janitors were trained to take out
more than just trash. After opening up All the cells, Gavriel tracked down
the one responsible for the mental state of the so-called patients. The
torturer wasn't nearly so much of a threat to somebody who wasn't tied down.

Afterwards, Gavriel tried talking to the freed elves, but it was clear they
didn't know anything about the demons, they'd been locked up after all. The
only ones who responded in the positive, it was clear their minds were
already fractured and fairy-brained.

But they were free, and the ones who still had a grip on sanity were leading
the rest northward, hopefully to family or others who could help. Gav may
not have found what he was after, but there was no way he could consider
this a wasted trip.




Writer: Thanatael

Date Thu Apr 27 21:12:43 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom

Subject The Lament of Temptation: part 1



It had been some time since he even set foot upon his estate. Often it
brought back memories of his budding family, his loving wife. With the
passage of time those memories faded, while the portraits that depicted his
warm family remain pristine within the halls of the manor. It had been even
longer since he sought the refuge of the shaded grove to send prayer to the
Forest Mother. Yet he found himself kneeling before the small altar that
sat at the center of the retreat, struggling to find the words.

Mother of the Forest and All the Lands,

I have, for centuries, held my tongue. Knowing my charge from birth has
allowed me to act in what I believe if your will for our people. I have
held my tongue, condemning myself to silent pray to you as to not disturb
the peace your surely seek In the hopes of allowing those who truly require
your guidance to hope for the attention of our most benevolent Mother. It
has taken strength and poise to do so and I am honored to have had the
opportunity to serve you.

Forest Mother, I come to you in need.

If I continue to serve you, worthy of the charge, I fear that I need know.
The struggle takes a toll that I lack the words to express in a world filled
with killers and murders who do so just to slake their thirst for
destruction. I have become heartless because I have had to and I only wish
to know if this is what you wish of me, your servant. It is much to ask,
perhaps too much, yet I ask it. Please know it is not hubris that urges me
forth. I simply attempt to find the will to fight the foes of the
Vallenwood fueled by love instead of the wrath that often consumes me in
silence.

I have long wished to simply be what is needed to defend our lands from the
predators who press war upon our peaceful nation. I have lived a life of
privilege and servitude in equal parts and I regret nothing

I thank you for the precious moments you will spend considering the words of
one soul, in a world of many, that seeks your strength in the defense of
others.


There he remained, his blades crossed across his lap with care and head
bowed in the silence of the grove. Wrought with need and doubt. Hoping for
an answer he did not deserve. It was then that a haunting melody rose to
his ears. It was then that hope clutched his beating heart within his chest
and bid him to rise and to follow it.




Writer: Thanatael

Date Thu Apr 27 22:05:25 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom

Subject The Lament of Temptation: part 2



"The Mother answers", he whispered as he sought the source of the melodic
lure.

"Find me. Come to me, Thanatael. ", the voice beckoned. It was only
moments before he found himself standing before to the Faellia Nenya with
the shared groves between the clan hall and kingdom of Shalonesti. Upon
arrival, Juelian Shalonost, a legend in his time and now once again, stood
at the waters edge, peering intently into the heart of the pool. Words were
spoken between the Shalonosts, unremembered, as the visage of a woman
emerged from the lake. Intoxicatingly beautiful, every motion and murmured
sigh of need struck him to the core.

"She has come to offer an answer to my prayers", he thought as he approached
the beckoning figure, filled with the love he sought. The figure offered so
much. Peace. Pleasure. Freedom. Infinite measures of each. And he knew
that such would be granted. Yet, amidst the endless bliss he felt as he
prepared to surrender, the thing he desired most was unanswered. It was a
realization that came too late. Without thought or control, he extended a
hand to the visage as the elves that now gathered and addressed the figure
lingered as only ghosts in his mind.

"This is not the Mother. " Juelian purported weakly. Thanatael was unable
to ignore the words of his Speaker, as much as he desired to do so. Doubt
was cast and the veil of serenity was lifted for a moment.


"They are here to take you from me. They are enemies. You know how to deal
with enemies
". The vision of perfection would need say no more. Thanatael
turns to the gathered elves, his stance dissonant and yelled for them to
stand down. He would handle this... Vision of perfection eternal...
Alone. This threat alone. He was not sure but he knew that alone, he would
learn the truth.

The siren call grew stronger. Urgency rushed through him without restraint
as he returned his gaze upon the figure and the rest of the world faded
again. "Come with me and the rest will not need to suffer. " He had wished
for little else his entire life. "You can be free of the burden of your
birthright
" Evil was revealed to him. Unadulterated and pure. Enough to
allow him to break himself in order to break the enchanting allure of the
figure. It would matter little as he heard the familiar sound of a sword
hilt piercing the wind just before the darkeness struck.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Thu Apr 27 23:02:20 2017

To All Equinox Knighthood Shalonesti Nadrik Zandreya Immortal

Subject Research and Plans - Sin Storyline



The table in her home was a mess of scrolls and parchments. It hadn't
taken the monk long to delve into this research as she was no stranger to
such work. She had amassed a decent sized library over the years. The
center of the table was occupied by a schematic of a rift device. Off to
one side, she had sketched her own rough drawing of the device and added her
own notes. There were various books laid open and scrolls unrolled. It
looked like chaos but to Kyrlynn it was beautifully chaotic. She barely
glanced from her reading source, each time she jotted a note and reached for
another book or scroll. Any one else would have had to search around for
things but this was organized chaos for her, she knew what each scroll and
book was and where on the table it was.

It had only been a short time since she had returned home from the meeting
to talk about Sin and those whom had been captured. She had been sent in
the Speaker's proxy which was just as well. She had already been to the
Temple for Mercerion and to the library in Pan Tol to gather documents and
was already working off a good bit of knowledge of the events. The meeting
consisted of Kaelissa of Althainia, the dwarven priest Fardoc and of course
Mercerion. Kyrlynn sat mostly in silence as she listened to the Lord crown
share the details of his meeting with Telthian and what he had learned.

She focused on committing it All to memory so that she could jot it All down
afterwards in her report for Juelian. A plan of sorts was starting to come
together. They each had their parts to play to get things ready for a
rescue attempt. It was no surprise that Mercerion had asked her to work
with Althainia on the rift device. He knew well of her history with the
shade events and how she had helped develop the device that was used to
track the portal the beasts used. She would do whatever was needed of her
as she did back then.

After the meeting she had returned to the library and immediately contacted
Mercerion seeking the schematics for the device. Now she sat amidst the
chaos of notes, books and scrolls. Time was not on their side so she
planned to work through the night. Then the call came from Mercerion that
Gareth was under attack. She informed Senator Uruvion and both of them
prepared and headed towards Gareth, prepared to aide if they could.

Details came in quickly, they were being given a chance at a rescue but only
one could go. The monk knew what was coming before the words were even
spoken. Pray for me, once more I go into the depths of hell. Kyrlynn
gritted her teeth as Mercerion's words assaulted her ears. Determined to
deal with it later she shared the information with the Senator and she set
out for Nadrik's temple. She knelt in the temple and prayed for Mercerion's
safety as well as Aliera's and All the others whom were taken. She prayed
that the rescue would be successful and that her friend would return
unharmed.

Relief spread through her as the news that Mecerion had returned with Aliera
was relayed. Her and the Senator had both been praying, moving between
Zandreya's garden and Nadrik's temple. She inquired with the Lord crown as
to the well being of the Shield General as well as himself. Once her and
the Senator were satisfied that there was nothing that they could do, they
both returned home.

The meeting earlier had turned out to be mostly moot now so it was time to
go home and clean up the chaos that covered her table.




Writer: Jane

Date Thu Apr 27 23:13:25 2017

To All and Gavriel and Zandreya

Subject Life Is Tough



The world was a place that mystified and terrified Jane. At any single
moment, you could have things under control. You could believe that you
finally had figured things out. You could feel calm, and look around,
appreciate the day and the wind on your cheek.

The next moment, you were shaking cold, clinging to the thatched roof of
your farm house as a freak flood destroyed everything. She remembered the
screams of the terrified sheep and the huddled form of her grandmother as
they spent a few days on the roof. They weren't strong swimmers and had to
wait for the waters to recede.

Nothing had been left except the walls and the roof and the sludge.

The talk with her grandmother had been a pretty simple one. They were too
old to start from scratch, and too poor. Their small savings had vanished
into the churning waters, along with their gardens and their livestock.
They didn't even have clothes or firewood.

So Miss Jane, JR's grandmother, made the journey to her daughter's house in
Gogathath to retire. But there was no room for JR. Too many mouths and not
enough work, or space.

She'd put on her bravest face. She'd smiled big. She'd hugged them All and
told them it was no big deal. She'd accepted a bit of dried food, and she'd
left.

She'd only cried after she'd walked for a good hour.

Her journey south wasn't a good one. She'd been bitten by bugs. She'd
burned herself trying to get a fire going from scratch. She'd woken up one
night to find a skunk trying to nose into her coat and had almost gotten
sprayed. She'd tripped and slipped and skinned up her palms and her legs
and her chin. More than once she'd gotten lost.

And at last she'd reached Arkane, recognizing it through the tree line by
the description of the tall and shimmering blue tower that rose above
everything else.

For a while, she'd stood in the forest, skulking behind a tree.

Jane was nobody special.

A divorced sheep farm girl who'd been raised by her grandmother. A peasant
with no exemplary skills to speak of. She was shy. Lazy. Cowardly.
Awkward with people.

She'd hidden behind a tree and for probably the millionth time wished she
could turn into some animal or another and not look to anyone or anywhere
for help.

But she was a person, a human even, and like it or not, humans were social
pack animals. She needed a home.




Writer: Fardoc

Date Fri Apr 28 05:03:41 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Equinox Jiffy Storyline Religion Nadrik Imm RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - The Demon Interruption



Fardoc grimaced as he put the traitors tongs back into the Temple vault.
He had spoken to several allies about them, but none had yet offered an
answer to the problem that faced the dwarf. The rune on these tongs had to
be destroyed.

Destroying them would draw the traitor back to Thaxanos in a blind fury, and
also weaken him severely by obliterating the portion of his lifes energy
that was sealed within the Warp rune. Much to the priests dismay, All the
runesmiths he had spoken to, including Betha, had informed him that they
knew of no way to remove a rune. Betha had hypothesized that maybe this
Warp rune was different from a true rune of Cliath, but would need time to
think of a possible plan of action.

The ability of these runic portals were truly frightening, especially in the
hands of the Warp. The ability to travel anywhere, bypassing ancient
antimagic barriers The power had far reaching implications to all. However,
with these demonic attacks across the realm, the priests attentions were
torn. The demons were the far more immediate threat, and the time to fight
them was rapidly approaching.

The Cardinal closed the door to the vault, and carefully reset both the
magical and mundane locks and barriers on the heavy seal. The apprentice
was still carefully guarded inside the tower, surrounded by a horde of
Ironbreakers. He was not going anywhere. The priest set his jaw, turned on
his heel, and strode back up the stairs into the Celestial Circle. Fardoc
passed the key to the vaults mundane lock back to the friar, who dutifully
clipped it on his belt once more, bowing his head slightly to the Cardinal.

Leaving the young friar in charge of the Temples petitioners in his absence,
Fardoc made haste back to Thaxanos. He made his way to Ironlaw Hall,
penning a missive in his office on behalf of the Xaprar, but speaking for
the Kingdom on the matter of the demons unless it was overruled by the High
King.

Unless overruled by the High King, Thaxanos will stand with the realm
against these demonic entities.


Stamping the scroll with the seal of the Xaprar, he sent it out with the
nearest messenger to make copies and distribute throughout the realm.





Writer: Anathaelynn

Date Fri Apr 28 11:24:20 2017

To Thanatael Cieran Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom All Immortal

Subject Ministrations [I]



The morning began like any other. Dawn spread fingers of light into the
grove, unceremoniously announcing its arrival. The warmth brushed against
the sleeping pads strewn across the floor, then cast its radiance over the
fountain, the vague trickle of water dispersing the sun, reflecting its
fluidity high above.

A relatively small stack of letters sat beside the priestess. And, just
like any other morning, she opened them methodically, then tossed them
aside. Various calls to arms, announcements, declarations, then one in
particular that gave her unusual pause. Slowly, she read the words,
absorbing each one in turn, fully assessing the meaning of the script as her
hands grew shaky.

Taken. Marked. Message.

Ana's head was spinning. Immediately, she reached out to her husband,
finding the strength to tell him All that weighed heavily upon her heart.
But it was too much, understandably, and she was once again left alone in
her haze.

The sun was already setting over the city when she made her way to her
father. His host was ever kind and welcoming, directing the Elf to to the
towering vallenwood trees where Thanatael rested. Ana ran to him, struck by
the pallor of his skin, the labored breaths that gave rise and fall to his
marked chest. He did not appear to be suffering, but neither did he seem to
fit the image of the illustrious Elder. Doting hands gathered his head in
their grasp, and she held him, placing a kiss at his forehead to let him
know that she was there, the echo of his message returned to him in the form
of a whisper in his ear.

Always. Forever.




Writer: Uruvion

Date Fri Apr 28 12:14:26 2017

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom All ( Equinox Imm Storyline Zandreya )

Subject Demons of Sin - Moving



By the grace of Zandreya the two elves moved quietly and with haste to
the sleeping Elder's location.

Symiad's sash blew gently with the wind. The tail of Uruvion's duster made
little sound, billowing with the breeze. The two elves were the epitome of
protection in the Vallens. Song and The Mother's gifts. They had a mission
given by the Speaker. Bring him home.

They found their Elder asleep in a Vallenwood, shaking sweating, pale. His
rest looked to be uneasy. The Kyorl and Arlathil looked at each other in
silence. Looks of how the hell do we get him down were exchanged. Uruvion
held up a finger and called a treant to his side then a gryffon. A knowing
look to both creatures was All that was needed.

The treant gently slid branches of soft wood and leaves under Thanatael and
brought the man down to lay him on the gryffon, like a mother putting her
newborn sleeping baby in a crib.

"I would have just picked him up. " A teasing grin was across Symiads's
face.

Urjvion rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. The first sign of humor in a

good while. "Oh shut up. " The elf looked around the surroundings as his
small smile faded and cleared his throat.

Uruvion lead the gryffon out with Symiad behind. The bladesinger's senses
here heightened and his body showed to be alert and readied. His hands were
on the pommels of his blades. The treant rooted itself down in the ground,
covering up and hiding any clues they had entered or left.

In the distance howling could be heard. It brought some comfort to him as
he opened the doors to the hall with Symiad now taking the lead of the
gryffon with their Elder to the Council Chamber.

Before closing the door another howl pierced the night's air. This one also
familiar but sending his hair on the neck up. With a sneer he closed the
door and went to put Thanatel to rest on the pallet with healers, Kyorl, and
Arlathil waiting to greet the elf they had brought home.




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Fri Apr 28 13:12:37 2017

To All Verminasia Equinox Imm Shadow Religion

Subject Seven Sins - Possessed by Pride


The feeling that something was terribly wrong inside her hadn't left
Ashtiel since she had been returned.

She felt cold and congested, the festering thing within caused her stomach
to churn at random and rest had proven elusive enough that she had long
passed the point of exhaustion.

The carefully measured control Ash kept over her existence had slipped from
her grasp. She was isolated, cut off and left to dwell with what lay
within. Her frustration, confusion, and paranoia coupled with the unnatural
anxiety she felt, wearing on her even as the demonic spirit within slowly
drained her.

With every moment that passed, her strength waned and she worried that
should Pride take control of her again she wouldn't be strong enough to
wrest it back.

It had not been easy to do so the first time. She had just removed her
gloves, intent on driving her dagger through the back of her opposite hand
and suddenly she was locked away in her own mind. A passenger in a carriage
with no control of the journey. She could only listen as it carried out its
mocking conversation with her mother and Telthian.

She hadn't been a silent passenger by any means. Without the control of her
body, the skald had done the only practical thing that had sprung to mind in
the moment. She had belted out every song she could think of, as loudly as
she could within her mind. When she ran out of lyrics, she had switched to
the alphabet, singing it in every language she knew.

Her songs had given way to prayer and she had managed to regain herself.
The threat lingered still within her and she was acutely aware that it could
spring forth at any moment.

Ash felt it watching. She felt the rot inside spreading as the Aspect
explored her soul and rooted around in her mind. Though no sound issued
forth, she heard its taunting whisper in her mind, continuously reminding
her that her time was running out.




Writer: Cieran

Date Fri Apr 28 15:18:06 2017




Writer: Arreana

Date Fri Apr 28 15:19:11 2017

To All Althainia Knighthood Justice Immortal Taliena Religion Storyline Roleplay

Subject Not Alone: Patience 2/3


/ Not Alone: Fighting Against Fate, Arreana, feat: n/a 09 /
| There had been a moment when Arreana was younger, having just fled from |
| the from the invasion of her homeland, when she considered ending it all. |
| Arreana shut her eyes and stopped walking for a moment as she recalled it. |
| |
| The wind was fierce, howling as it whipped the waves into a |
| frenzy. In turn, the waves beat against the hull of the ship, |
| rocking it as though it were a mere toy. Only the crew was |
| out on deck, save Arreana. |
| |
| Arreana felt perfectly sane, she simply could not continue on |
| as others had. Her father, her mother, almost All of her |
| tribe... dead. Arreana was All alone. |
| |
| The rain felt like blunt nails, pressing sharply into her |
| skin without piercing it. Nevertheless, Arreana closed her |
| eyes and turned her face to the sky, stretching out the |
| wings on her back. The wind tried to capitalize off of this, |
| but Arreana held her ground. If her life ended today, it |
| would be of her own effort, not the storm. |
| |
| However, as soon as Arreana closed her eyes, a calm fell |
| about her. There was a stillness that stood starkly against |
| the ferocity of the storm. |
| |
| All she had to do was jump. Arreana had prepared herself for |
| it. The end would not be pleasant, drowning, but it was final |
| and it was the least messy means she had before her. |
| |
| However, a question rang out in her thoughts: Why? |
| |
| Her family was gone. She had nothing. Arreana wasn't sure why |
| she was questioning herself about it All over again, she'd |
| always been able to answer every question she had asked. |
| |
| What about Taliena? The thought pressed through her mind, yet |
| she could hear it as a voice, a voice not her own. Arreana |
| had thought of her Goddess before, and she was ready. |
| |
| She has more important things to deal with than me. |
| |
| Incorrect, the voice responded, and Arreana realized who it |
| had to be. I have need of you. |
\ \





Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Fri Apr 28 15:22:30 2017




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Fri Apr 28 15:52:54 2017

To All Shalonesti Equinox Immortal Zandreya Nadrik

Subject Sin: Aspect of Lust (Part 1)



The monk had been lost in her thoughts when the Speaker called out to her
that he might need her to accompany him. She was immediately on alert,
preparing and feeling a bit uneasy. She called out to the speaker and
inquired for further details but he said that it wasn't needed after all.
It struck her as odd that he was not providing any further details. Before
she could inquire any further she was told to be on alert from Senator
Uruvion.

Being a protector meant that she was always on alert and ready to defend but
it wasn't duty that drove her. They had become her family in a short amount
of time. She cared about those in the vallens, some of them more than
others. Her and the Senator moved to the portals, one of which led to the
shared groves. They waited a bit, watching the Elder Thanatael come through
and enter the circle without so much as a word. Now, Kyrlynn was really
feeling uneasy so as soon as the Senator entered the circle she rushed in as
well.

As she walked past the gates and neared the pool she saw the creature and
saw the Speaker and Elder standing before it. It appeared to be a beautiful
woman, her beauty was so alluring that Kyrlynn was briefly stunned by it but
she caught the slight flicker in the creature's glamour. It coupled with
the feeling that Thantael was in danger was enough to help the protector
keep her wits. She gripped her staff and cast a glance at the Senator just
as the Aspect of Lust spoke up, informing the speaker and Elder that her and
the Senator were unwelcomed guests who needed to go.

The Speaker seemed to be fighting the Siren's control, wavering just on the
edge of it. He knew something felt wrong but its power was strong. Both
the Speaker and Elder drew their weapons and turned towards the Protector
and Senator. This stopped Kyrlynn in her tracks.. She wasn't about to draw
her weapons on either of them without a damn good reason. Instead, she
tried to focus her attention on the Aspect and called out to them, telling
them not to listen to the demon. The Senator did the same, both of them
trying to convince the two Shalonosts that they were being deceived.

The Siren became angry, turning its gaze on the Protector and cooing about
how demon was such a harsh word. When her attention turned towards
Thanatael, fear started to grip Kyrlynn. The siren went to reach for
Thanatael which All at once seemed to shake the Speaker from his daze and
cause the Protector to take action. Juelian struck at the creatures hand
with his sword and Kyrlynn darted forward to try and put herself between the
Siren and Elder Thanatael, her staff aimed and ready.

Thanatael was still under its control though, he grew angry and clenched his
fist raising it up and appearing to be about to strike Kyrlynn's face. She
flinched slightly as she saw the hand coming but there wasn't really time to
react. The next events happened so fast and yet seemed to move slowly all
at the same time. Thanatael's eyes met hers for the briefest of moments and
Kyrlynn felt that he saw her, truly saw her and perhaps he did because he
immediately dropped his hand and stopped the assault. He shook his head and
the beasts control on him seemed to be wavering.

As this took place the creature shrieked in pain and jerked her hand back
from Juelian's blade. Kyrlynn tried to place herself in a better position
between the creature and Thanatael, her staff ever ready. The Senator
leveled his staff and the Elder shook off the control long enough to realize
and state that they needed to attack. Before they could the Siren began to
sing again. Kyrlynn clenched her jaw, trying hard to use her gifts to block
the control of the song but the others seemed to be struggling with it more.






Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Fri Apr 28 15:56:44 2017

To All Shalonesti Equinox Immortal Zandreya Nadrik

Subject Sin: Aspect of Lust (Part 2)



Each of the men shook off the Siren's song, the creature became
increasingly more angry. She turned her full focus on Thanatael, stating
that she would have what she came for. Fear and determination gripped a
hold of the monk. She couldn't let the demon take him, both for her duty
and herself. The Speaker struck Thanatael, knocking him out before turning
to Kyrlynn, telling her to get him out of there now. All at once everything
seemed to slow down, she couldn't manage to move fast enough. Just as she
reached him to drag him out, the Elder woke and was on his feet in an
instance.

The Elder called for them to attack but before they could do so, the
creature drew forth a wave from the pool and sent it crashing down upon them
hard. Kyrlynn saw Thanatael try to grab for her but the water knocked her
feet out from under her. She scrambled to try and get her footing while
planting her staff to aide with such. The Senator grabbed at Thanatael,
trying to pull him back before the water crashed into the Senator as well.
Just as they managed to get their footing back, the others launched an
attack and the battle began.

The creature like the others was strong. Kyrlynn couldn't manage to strip
any of it spells but she was determined, switching instead to just hurting
the demon as much as she could. The battle was long and at one point
Kyrlynn found herself teleported to the ocean where an aboleth attacked her.
In frustration she tore herself from the aboleth's grasp and ran back to the
vallens as fast a she could, diving back into the battle once again. Others
came and joined the fight.

They were winning, the beast was hurting but then in a flash it was gone...
Just like the others and it had taken Thanatael with it. Kyrlynn's stomach
twisted into a painful knot. She choked on the pain for a moment and called
out to Mercerion. 'We were attacked. Thana was taken. ' Mercerion
responded but Kyrlynn couldn't focus on his words. She was busy trying to
pull herself back together, find her poise as Thanatael called it.

Time seemed to slow to almost a stop. She tried to sense Thanatael, tried
to call out to him but she couldn't. Out of sheer will she managed to
contain the tears that were threatening to spill over her cheeks. Her heart
ached as she moved between those in the city that had gathered and the
groves, hoping to find him. Thoughts of losing him were threatening to
consume her but she pushed them back and buried them. Flooding rains began
to pour from the sky over the city and forest. The water was rising
quickly.

Those that had gathered were doing what they could to aide. Kyrlynn focused
her thoughts on her prayers, sending them up for Thanatael's return, for his
safety. She tried again to call out to him and this time she could sense
him. She hoped he could hear her as she told him to be strong and hold on.
She told them that they would get to him some how.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Fri Apr 28 16:07:03 2017

To All Shalonesti Equinox Immortal Zandreya Nadrik

Subject Sin: Aspect of Lust (Part 3)



City. Groves. Back to the city again. How many times did she make this
loop? She didn't know she merely knew that she couldn't stand still and had
to stay focused. If she didn't then she'd lose control completely. Then a
portal of Ichor appeared, only big enough for a single body. She watched in
horror as Thanatael's bloodied and limp form fell from it. Her eyes
followed him as Mercerion moved to try and catch him. This time her legs
moved quickly, in an instant she was at his side as her instincts took over
and rushed the healing spells out of her.

The monk was glad for All the years spent honing her skills and training
because had her instincts not taken over, the pain in her heart might have.
Right now she needed that to stay at bay. She controlled it, lest it
control her instead. Others crowded around the Elder, many of them uttering
healing spells as well. His wounds healed, save for the horrid demonic
marks on his chest. He was still unconscious though so the monk went inside
her mind, reaching out to his as. She pleaded with him to fight, to come
back to her, to come back to them. Nothing.

She stepped aside and allowed several of the elves to aide in carrying the
Elder back to the groves, it was time to take him home. When she reached
the groves and didn't find him at first, the fear struck her again. When
the Speaker explained he was with the Kyorl, the monk realized her emotions
were frayed and showing. After being told to calm herself by another, she
retreated to what had been called 'their spot' and allowed herself a moment
to unravel. Doubled over on her knees in the grass, she gulped at the fresh
air as if she were drowning.

She felt like she was. Everything had gone down so fast. She apologized to
the Speaker, she felt like she had failed in keeping Thanatael safe but he
wouldn't hear it. He said his hand was on the Elder when he was taken,
there was nothing anyone could have done. Piece by piece, Kyrlynn put
herself back together. She found her poise and clung to it as if she were a
child clinging to her safety blanket.

Elves were gathered above the altar when Kyrlynn walked in. She remained
quiet and waited till Thanatael woke. He was startled and flailing at
anything close. Her and others spoke calming words, letting him know he was
home and safe. A bit of relief flooded Kyrlynn as she sat on her feet near
him, watching quietly. He was alive. He was conscious. The rest could be
dealt with.

The battle between duty and heart would continue though as it was decided
that the Elder would be moved to a sanctuary and accompanied by Kyorl who
would stand guard. She hated to let him out of her sight. She had to trust
the Kyorl though and the Speaker. It was at least stated that she could
accompany them to the sanctuary and see him for a bit.

Once the Elder was settled and everyone was dispersing to their posts or
other duties, they were left alone. She had duties to attend to and he
reminded her of that. She tried to protest and explain that she was on top
of those duties and already seeing to them. He would have none of it
though. He blamed himself for the attack, his weakness had brought it to
the Vallens. The knife was in deep and it felt like it was being twisted,
the pain was too much.

'I can not do this now. You will not convince me that I have not compromised
the safety of the Vallenwood. Please. Let it go. Please. Go.' Swallowing
every ounce of pain that threatened to consume her, Kyrlynn nodded and
let duty control her. Without a word, she walked out of the sanctuary and
returned to the groves.




Writer: Thrakhath

Date Fri Apr 28 16:14:56 2017

To Knighthood Carrionmaw All Immortal Religion Storyline

Subject Blood for Blood



His gaze had been fixated on the altar in the chapel for the last few
hours.

A decision was made. The cut in his left palm throbbed and itched as it
healed reminding the yinn of the blood given to the Red Dragon Carrionmaw
only hours ago.

The Red reached out for the aged paladin, explaining and proposing to the
yinn an exchange. His blood, for the Red's blood. A ritual - or at least,
alluding to that of a ritual, or another deal to seal away the dark entities
plaguing the realm in recent times.

The yinn was not entirely convinced that his blood would be of any help.
That he, by being the first yinn ever to be granted divine sanction to take
on the mantle of paladin - was a fact - had the purity of Light coursing
through his veins was quite a logical leap to the yinn. The yinn reasoned
to himself (in his typical stoicism) that whatever 'strength', 'purity',
that came from him was a matter of faith and piety, nothing to do with his
blood. Yet the Red was certain beyond doubt that this was a key to ...
Whatever that would occur next.

The yinn prayed and meditated on accepting the deal. He had his
reservations, his doubts. But what could come worse from it? A leap of
faith, a dive into the unknown. The aged paladin would extend his trust to
the Red Dragon Carrionmaw.

Blood. For blood.

He would give his blood to Carrionmaw in exchange for the Red Dragon's blood
- not that the aged yinn covets the blood of the Red Dragon to begin with,
but it was a token to be held in confidence, in trust.

The yinn would continue to stare at the altar for hours on end, praying that
somehow, that truly, there was something in his blood would have had helped.
There was little else to do at this point, except to pray, to hope.




Writer: Laeroth

Date Fri Apr 28 16:56:28 2017




Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Apr 28 19:05:25 2017

To Immortal Equinox Religion All Knighthood

Subject Entities of Sin Part 9: Holy War Hath Begun.



Mercerion stood poised over the table in the War Room, looking over the
charts of Knights whom have returned to duty, answering the General's call
to arms. The Keep was far from its former strength, back when it was said
that the Crown Order alone could command tens of thousands of knights. How
Mercerion longed for such a turn out for this fight to come. Still, it was
nothing to scoff at. The forces gathered now between the Knights of the
Keep, and those of the holy order known as the Seraph's Blade numbered more
than Althainia's military did, when Mercerion first accepted the crown from
Clarissia. It wouldn't touch the current numbers, which stood as a
testament to the work he had done in his time there.

As he poured over the charts again, and continued making assignments with
the Lord Lance and Lady Shield, He wondered how long it would take before it
became apparent what exactly he was doing. The General Infantry, their
largest pool, had been assigned to the Shield Order, resting most of that
onto Captain Pharis MacGregor's plate, while subsidiary command was given to
Sammuel DeMatthis, and Hasaki Shiroken, having proven themselves thus far as
invaluable in the efforts. The Shield was also given command of two-hundred
heavy horse, and fifty light horse. Half of the Heavy Horse were command
knights, the rest were cavalry with the Light cavalry using yew recurve
bows. Joining the Shield's ranks were a general muster of herbalists and
hospitalers to tend to the wounded, as well as two combat clerics from
Gareth and one combat cleric from the Seraph's blade. It would be one of
the Shield's primary tasks to keep others alive in this fight. The Shield
also had the benefit of two wizards, which would include one from the order
of the Seraph's Blade.

The Lance Order, under Thrakhath, was given the primary role of Shock
Troops. Here is where the Keep's 250 mace-men, 200 axe-men, two-hundred
heavy cavalry, fifty Seraph's blade heavy cavalry, five catapults, nearly
250 militiamen, and one hundred order command knights would reside.
Thrakhath had chosen Terces to sub-command the cavalry, and Sabien to
sub-command the axe-men.

This had left the order Crown under Mercerion's direct command, with four
royal guards from the Seraph's Blade, five of the Seraph's blade knights,
and one-hundred command order Knights of the Crown. It was a smaller
formation, and as Mercerion reviewed his final notes on the matter and
turned to his Generals, he smiled and said, "See to them, make them ready
for Hell, for tomorrow that's what we're walking into.




Writer: Uruvion

Date Fri Apr 28 19:11:42 2017

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thanatael All ( Equinox Imm Rp Religion Zandreya )

Subject Demons of Sin - Rise and Endure


Tired eyes wondered over the Elder's form, grunts and groans, a few
spasms and moans of discomfort coming from Thanatael at times. He took a
small towel and dipped it in a bowl of cool water and wiped the elf's brow.
Uruvion looked up for a moment and saw the healers of the Vallens chanting,
channeling their energies into the man.

The Eldritch knew the Kyorl, Anathaelynn, other Eldritches, and other elves
were standing watch. This man who carried the world on his shoulders was
now being looked after by ones who cared and loved him. Uru had feelings
like he did. Enemies who sought the Vallens destroyed, burn them All and
let the ashes get carried by the wind. Now though, the world was their
Vallens. Send what was here back to whatever ancient hell they came from.
No. Not send them back, destroy them.

This man, this elf fighting some unknown inner turmoil, marked, branded as
to signify possession, who Uruvion considered a friend, and probably not
known to Thanatael, looked up to, and proud and honored to be a civilezed
savage with on the field was getting prayers sent to the Mother.

Blessed Mother Zandreya, I pray to give You thanks for the gifts You have
provided this world. The earth, mountains, sands, waters, and the Vallens.




I pray to thank you for Thanatael who now struggles from his ordeal of
demonic taking. I pray You give him comfort, peace, and know how he has
inspired a nation. I pray that it is time to rise and endure to fight what
comes. I pray that Thanatael is given the fortitude of the vallentree.
Sturdiness of the hardest rock.



We are Yours to command and by Your Grace we serve.

Uruvion lifted his head from prayer and reached over and squeezed gently at
Thanatael's hands after saying his Amen.

"Wake and rise friend. We have work to do."




Writer: Gavriel

Date Fri Apr 28 21:33:15 2017

To All Kaelissa Cieran Mercerion Althainia imm roleplay rp

Subject Nothing Like a Good Joke



"I assume you've already spoken to Mercerion or Telthian?"

Gavriel was sitting downstairs in the Bugbear, still bleary-eyed and hoping
a bit of food would help wake him up. After his last expedition to Lokhaer
he had returned to the capital to rest, feeling he'd earned a real bed for
the night instead of a camproll, even if he hadn't found who he was looking
for. A stack of letters and notices had been left outside his door, and
he'd carried them down with him before plopping the pile on the table,
unread. After comments from the Duchess, and now General Renato, Gav was
getting a bit concerned about what was in those letters.

Gav started skimming through the pile. Several from high-ups in Gareth's,
Althainia, even Storm. His eyes caught briefly on a comment about the demon
aspects eating, devouring those who had been taken. All those people...
Shamus's kids, Skarr's niece, the daughter of the lady who ran the tea shop,
the little sister of the young woman at the Aerie... All dead? Gav had
only been in the capital a short time, but he still knew these people, had
met and interacted with them.

But there was more to look through, and nothing Gav had come across so far
seemed like it'd be about him directly. And then, there it was, under a
poster from Bloodlust:

Gavriel,

I have urgent need to speak with you. Please reach out to me when you
receive this.

-General Mamoritai

"What'd I do?" The note of panic in his voice was clear.

"Let me know when you have caught up with your missives, and we will find a
place to meet."

"Oh I'm All caught up now," Gav responded to the Duchess, "save f'r not
knowin' why a bloody general of Gareth's wants t'talk wi'me specific'ly!"

General Renato tried to reassure Gavriel that he wasn't in trouble, but Gav
had a hard time believing it. It took a few minutes just to get it clear
who was going to talk to him first (about what, Gav had no clue) but it was
becoming obvious that, in trouble or not, he wasn't going to like whatever
it was. By the time he and the Duchess started talking, though, more
trouble was brewing.

Time was limited, something was going on up north in Shalonesti and with all
the recent events it didn't take a wizard to figure out the likely cause.
The Duchess started talking about a device, something that was supposed to
help, supposed to seal away these demon aspects before they could complete
some sinister ritual with All the souls they were consuming.

"In our efforts to gain this relic, we are missing but one component. We
need a bone, as gruesome as it is. A bone from a very particular person,
one who is pious and Righteous... Wholly. From their Soul, from their
blood... Even within their very bone."

Gavriel scratched at his head, listening but not sure of the point.
"Well... I mean, that oughta be easy 'nough, right? There's All kinda
o'pious folk, champions o'their faiths an' what-not."

Gav didn't much care for the look the Duchess was giving him as she
continued. "There is only one at present whose offering can see this ended,
Gavriel. And I am quite sorry for the weight I am about to place upon
you... But it is you."

It took a few seconds to process the words, but when they hit, his hand came
to an abrupt halt, mid-scratch.

"This some kind o'joke?" he asked. Because it was nothing like a good one.




Writer: Gavriel

Date Fri Apr 28 22:28:12 2017

To All Kaelissa Cieran Mercerion Aliera Thanatael Althainia Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom imm roleplay rp

Subject A Not-So-Gentle Ribbing (1/2)



There wasn't time to continue the conversation immediately. Reports of
flooding from the demon-driven storm raging over Shalonesti were coming in,
and people needed help. General Renato had overseen the start of
sandbagging efforts, and from there Gavriel followed him and the Duchess
north to the Vallenwood. Rumor had it an elder there had been taken as
well, and they arrived just in time to see that elder returned, tattered and
bloody and marked, as he fell through a portal of some kind in the southern
part of the elven city.

Gav tried to help, but he was far from the only healer there, and even
further from being the most skilled. It wasn't long before the elves
whisked their elder away to a more secure location anyway, though by that
point the immediate threat was gone, the storms reduced to soothing winds.
Gavriel thought the demons were pretty daft, trying to use weather against a
people watched over by Mother Nature herself, but maybe that was why so few
casualties were being reported.

Eventually, Gavriel was lead back into Althainia, to the palace itself.
Within the council chamber, Generals Renato, Mamoritai, and Amarandus were
waiting. To speak to him.

General Renato whispered into Gav's ear, "No matter what is said... Know
that you are a citizen of Althainia, and as such I would die myself before I
let any harm you did not agree to befall you."

Any harm he did not agree to. Not the most comforting statement.

"I understand you've been briefed as to why I am looking to speak with you."

"Yessir," Gav responded to General Mamoritai, "so much as the weather
allowed, sir."

The Duchess added, "He has had no time to process it."

General Mamoritai nodded, then reached up to his collar and removed his rank
insignia, setting it down on the table. General Amarandus did the same.
That was the kind of thing top brass only did if things were serious.

"This... This ain't no joke, then."

"Son," Mamoritai responded, "I like a good joke, but I wouldn't make this up
to anyone... I cannot imagine what must be going through your head right
now. And it makes me ill to even have to ask, particularly because of whom
I am working with to see this done. But I am prepared to resign my office
entirely to prove to you how serious this is."

The grave looks on the faces around him left no room for interpretation.
"But... I mean, come on, you know? I'm just some grunt from Draugdale, an'
y'r tellin' me, what... Y'saw my face in th'sky?"

Mamoritai started to explain, "Over an Age ago, there was a war, a bitter
war between Shinalstin, and the very demons we fight now. There was a man,
from Shinalstin, believed to be a refugee from Serpantol when it fell. His
surname was LaFortinas. This was a man of virtue, a holy warrior whose
purity was such that his very blade meant death to these creatures. In the
midst of their war, the man was slain, not by a demon, but by a foul and
wicked soul."

Gav raised his arm to scratch at his head again, not sure where this was
leading, as the General continued. "This soul was familiar with the Umbral
arts, and ancient language of these demons... He found a rite that could
bind these creatures. But he required blood, a scale of a dragon, and a
bone from a pious man. Within this rite, he sealed these aspects we now see
today, many years before Althainia even existed... We have possessed the
blood and scale to repeat the rite. The one who knows it, spoke that it was
specifically a bone from you, that must be had to seal them. If it could be
any pious man, I would gladly have volunteered myself."




Writer: Gavriel

Date Fri Apr 28 22:57:55 2017

To All Kaelissa Cieran Mercerion Aliera Althainia imm roleplay rp

Subject A Not-So-Gentle Ribbing (2/2)



Gavriel ran his fingers through his hair, trying to process and come to
terms with All this information, but he still had trouble believing it all.
"Right... 'k... But, you All don' know me from Jacob. I dunno who this
other is what named me, but I 'spect they don' know me, neither. I mean...
Sure, I'm faithful, ev'ry soldier needs t'have sommat t'get 'im through a
dark night, but..." Gav's voice dropped to a whisper. "This..."

Amarandus finished the statement in a different direction. "Is asked
because there is no other choice. And because the world as we know it will
end and All of us with it violently, if we can not lock them away."

"An' that's why it's important y'get the right guy!" Gavriel shot back, his
nerves making him unusually bold in the face of top brass.

For a moment, things seemed to stand still, at least in the room. But in
front of his eyes, Gav saw images flash, images of the faces of those he'd
spoken to, those he'd tried to reassure in recent days. It took him a
moment to reorient himself. This wasn't the time to be cracking up, no
matter what sort of pressure he was under. He started muttering to himself,
reciting the Sacraments like a litany. General Renato, hoping to comfort,
placed a hand on Gavriel's shoulder.

Once he'd calmed himself Gav took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and
closed his eyes in prayer. "Lord... I know I'm s'posed t'ave faith in
m'self, but it's a hard pill t'think I'm s'posed t'be th' best choice f'r
all this. I mean, sure, there's no real question 'bout whether I'd do it,
but... I jus' hope they ain't wrong."

As Mamoritai started in with more questions, trying to spur things along,
Gav got the sensation of another hand, on his opposite shoulder. Gavriel
heard, but was only half paying attention to the story the General was
telling about the origin of the province Draugdale's name. It was all
getting to be too much... Too much to follow, too much to think about, and
not enough time to put his own thoughts in order.

But the Duchess brought things home. "Gavriel... Algoron has been
entrenched within a swamp. Think of Abaddon, though I realize how difficult
that must be." He'd told her about his part in the war, back then. Gav's
lips tightened, his jaw tensing at the subject. "There is a choice which is
so far from the usual, so against the normal order of things... Yet you
know, within the peace of your Soul, that it is the choice that must be
made." The meaning in her next sentence was not lost on Gavriel. "Yet in
this case... You will be fully supported. You have the word of All those
present."

It took him a minute to respond, and he was thankful nobody else started
talking before he did, else he might've lost his words. "I coulda gone home
t'Southmark... When th' Emperor disappeared, th' men were... Well, nobody
was too happy wi'things how they fell out." Mamoritai's head dipped at
mention of the disappearance. "But I didn't. I stayed in Darkfen, because
I knew... I knew, somebody had t'stay, t'watch, an' make sure sommat didn't
follow us back..."

"I 'preciate the fact you all're makin' this out like there's a choice...
But I'd be damned if I let it be one. I jus' gotta ask a question."

Mamoritai nodded, "Go ahead."

"Which bone d'ya need?"

General Amarandus answered. "A rib."




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Fri Apr 28 23:43:03 2017




Writer: Noami

Date Sat Apr 29 00:00:31 2017




Writer: Crelius

Date Sat Apr 29 01:20:03 2017

To All Immortal Shadow Religion

Subject Entities of Sin Part 10: The Old Night



Crelius held his hands against a weathered castalian upon the battlements
of Storm Keep. There he watched and considered. His gaze looked westward
across the unforgiving sands that hid this sacred fortress from the
unworthy. The white moon waxed, casting a subtle white sheen across the
dunes as the winds picked up with rare tenacity. The Ivory Waste awaited.
He gripped his hands against the weathered stone.

With a murmured sigh he grasped a flint and sparked it against the edge of
one of the outcropped stones, alighting a torch. He made his way down the
inner flanks of the courtyard of the citadel. Pausing slightly as he
reached its foyer. He glanced his hooded countenance towards the main gate
for a moment. Considering again he turned his focus towards the threshold,
entering the keep.

As he passed the massive door he moved slowly through the mainway of the
chambers, stopping intermittently to raise his torch to expired sconces.
Like a custodian to a place of weakened strength he walked. He traversed
towards his destination, making sure he lit the lining lanterns of the
seemingly abandoned keep.

He traversed the darkened hallways, reignited the lanterns as he walked and
righting those that fell off alignment. He walked until he stood before a
place of unique reverence to him. The hall of statuary. Atennim cast the
torch to the ground, kneeling before the chamber of antiquity and
immortalized legends.

Looking up from the dying torch light he regarded the memorials that filled
the room. Shay, with his chiseled features and arms set in a charge that
would ignite the purist war and form this keep. His wife Sorcia, tall and
proud behind her husband. Ishamael, his harrowing blade upon his side.
Malcolm, enigmatic but standing with a gravity that could not be compared
even in stone. Lanival, behind the Kayens with his sword and shield, a
chiseled grin upon his stone countenance. Isadore, his commanding painting
showing prophetic detail even through the faltering torch light.

Finally his gaze moved towards the portrayal of his greatest friend. Ihsan
Madaur. Sword held up to touch the tip of another sword to form the archway
of the Sanctum. Crelius then looked forward, old and grizzled as he was, to
observe the likeness of himself cast into stone. Looking upon the man he
once was, now caught in stone, completed the archway to the Sanctum.

"I must do something this night that none of you would condone. I pray your
understanding in these years that have past, lest this keep be no more,"
Crelius spoke towards the statues. Atennim stood and made his way back
through the keep towards the courtyard through the empty halls. Leaving the
torch to extinguish.




Writer: Crelius

Date Sat Apr 29 01:30:38 2017

To All imm Religion RP Shadow

Subject Entities of Sin Part 10: The Old Night (continued)



He arrived in the courtyard under an odd light. The luminescence of the
white and red moon casting a blood like haze among the open ground.

With a reluctant necessity Crelius unfurled his robe, casting it upon the
white sands of the courtyard. He then unclasped a weapon of some mystery
from his side. Holding it aloft to his gaze before he intoned his prayer.


He gazed upon the inscriptions. Some still he could not decipher. The head
of the hammer shone with some foreboding in the odd light of the moons.
Grasping the haft with two hands, he slammed the top side of the massive
hammers head into the sandy granite ground beneath him.

Lowering his head he intoned the forbidden words. "Te Occidere Possunt Sed
Te Edere Non Possunt Nefas Est."

The ancient hammer began to rumble and its nefarious carvings glowed with
insidious azure light. Power cascaded through the hammers head and arched
across the ground in All directions. Manifesting the forms of wraith
knights one by one around Crelius as a clock would tick.

Atennims eyes fluttered and he looked towards what he had summoned. All
knights of the Sanctum had the power to summon the aspect of a deceased
knight. With the hammer of Eclipse Crelius had summoned them ten fold, the
Death Knights of clan Eclipse.

He was troubled to make out their apparitions as he looked around him.
Strange beings from his past cloaked in ethereal malevolence. In ghostly
cold intones they cursed him.

The Warden steadied his gaze, noticing the spirits of Maven himself. Vokkyn
and the others of the six families.

Steadying himself he raised the hammer from the ground. "As your highlord
and bearer of the Hammer of Eclipse you will do as I command." A baleful
otherworldly shriek pursued.

"One nights hence, you will guard these battlements from All who oppose
Storm Keep. You are forbidden from entering the depths of the halls.
Should I call you elsewhere you will follow," Crelius spoke. A shrieking
and wretched wail expounded from the Death Knights.

"Go now and be ready for your vigil," Crelius spoke as he knocked the hammer
to the ground. The death knights dispersing into the courtyard and
battlements in an unholy arch. Dissipating as quickly as they had appeared.


"The Old Night had been brought manifest. Let any who dare to cross the
threshold of Storm Keep meet them," Crelius whispered in short breathes as
he strode back through the threshold.




Writer: Nymaya

Date Sat Apr 29 01:43:58 2017

To All Verminasia ( Equinox Storyline Religion Necrucifer ) Shadow

Subject Seven Sins - Whatever It Takes


Her pack, her belt, her weapons and sheaths hit the ground with a thud.

The clouds loomed dark, roiling. The patter of rain threatened and a low
crescendo of distant thunder breathed ominous promise.

The practice dummy stood alone in the field, waiting, and with a deliberate
motion she reached down to slowly pull her sword free. The metal hissed
softly, the grip familiar in her scarred palm.

Her footsteps were silent on the grass as she prowled, feeling less and
less in control. But that was the point of this little exercise. The blade
whistled sharply as she spun it once.

Let go

And she did. There was finesse, grace and restraint at first, but as the
moments slipped by it All degraded. Soon enough, she was hitting the straw
just to hit it. When that wasn't enough, she gripped her sword in two hands
and began to hack it to pieces, and again when that was not enough, she
voiced her wrath. Her cry echoed and a crack of lightning followed,
splitting the sky and letting loose the deluge. She was soaked in a matter
of seconds. The rain was cold, her breath misting and though she shook, it
was with unsupressed rage.

She had made a lifetime or three out of learning to restrain her impulses.
Kyorl had to be clear and certain of their actions when protecting a
Shalonost. There had been no room for failure there and her mentor had been
unrelentingly harsh in her training.

But she wasn't a Kyorl anymore. She was a mother watching her child die,
hollowed by primal force, and All the training in the world didn't seem to
matter to the rage boiling over then and there.

She closed her eyes, breathing hard, and embraced the painful rush before
leaning her head back under the cold torrent. When she looked up again,
her silver hair hanging heavy around her shoulders, the rage was once again
contained and her attention was All for the upper floors of the Iagothal
manor. He was up there, somewhere.

"I submit, Master" she breathed, her sound lost to the thunder and the
deafening downpour, "Shape me to Your infinite Will."

"Whatever it takes." She whispered, determined and confident as she turned
away to gather her things, once again in control.




Writer: Carrionmaw

Date Sat Apr 29 09:51:15 2017

To All Verminasia ( Equinox Storyline Religion Necrucifer ) Shadow

Subject Seven Sins - Final Preparations


The ancient wyrm surveyed his domain from his perch high atop the
weathered peak. The land stretched out beneath him, mountains giving way to
valleys and hills, aged and venerable forests, fertile plains, swamplands,
and his draconian eyes could make out even the desolate sands that might
soon be his grave. He mused to himself that once he could have seen
Verminasia from this perch, but that was long, long ago.

Unfurling his mighty wings he swept from the peak, circling lower until he
came to land upon an escarpment. Traversing the dark passage, he went down
deep into the heart of the mountain. He crept through the dark until he
reached the Maw itself, the orange glow of the lava floes cascading wild
shadows across the wyrm and the towering figure that was always there.
Always watching.

Lowering himself upon the outcropping he peered into the liquid stone as it
pooled beneath. Ever present throughout the world, the cycle of creation
and destruction played out before his eyes in miniature scale. The molten
rock would be forced up from the bowels of Algoron, flow along its
undulating route and slowly cool. In the process, igneous rock was formed -
and if instead the pressure were too great and the mountain were to erupt,
volcanic rock in its stead. But lower still, some of the molten stone would
fall away. It would fall a great distance, plunging into the depths known
only to the few who have been tormented within and returned to speak of it.

Exhaling a deep breath, he stoked the coals that smoldered within his chest,
feeding them the names of the Sins one by one. With claw he began to carve
a message into the stone floor of his lair.

His gaze swept back to the towering figure, back to his Master.

Deep within him his tempest fury seethed, barely contained. With a roar
that shook the cavern he bowed his head, "I submit. No half-measures. No
matter the cost. '

He would not hope. Hope was far too dangerous a thing. If they were to be
victorious, it would be the consummation of thorough preparations,
discipline, and faith.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Sat Apr 29 10:28:41 2017

To All Shalonesti Equinox Zandreya Nadrik Immortal

Subject Sin: Lust returns



A familiar song wove it's way through the groves. As soon as it
assaulted Kyrlynn's ears she recognized it. A snarl tore from the monk's
lips, a foreign thing to hear from her, as she turned towards the Senator
and uttered a single word, 'Lust.

In an instant both elves sprang to action, throwing up their protections as
quickly as they could. They rushed through the portals and began to follow
the song. Both of them knew the familiar call, the pull of the siren. They
were being beckoned to the Holy Groves.

Upon arrival they discovered Narsh and Boof fighting each other, no doubt
for Lust's enjoyment. Kyrlynn glared at the aspect and sneered, 'You.. '
The elves had a score to settle with this beast.

The Siren was undoubtedly displeased to see their entrance, she cooed at her
two subjects to end their fight. Instead she beckoned them to remove the
elves, after All they had tried to cut off her hand. Both Narsh and Boof
turned on them and why would they not... To them she appeared to be a
beautiful woman in danger, whose heart was breaking.

Disgusted, Kyrlynn kept her eyes from meeting the Aspect's as her and the
Senator tried to convince Narsh and Boof that she was a demon, not the
beautiful creature she appeared to be. The Goblin appeared to be struggling
with fighting it off but the song was winning out. The yinn appeared
entranced still.

The siren's song intensified and Kyrlynn could feel its grasp tugging at
her. She could hear the beckoning words offering to heal her heart, to give
her All that she desired. The recent events had her resolve weakened, the
song called to her more now than it had previously. So much pain and
fear..... The offer.... The song was so appealing.

Others were starting to gather in the Holy Grove, one of those being the
speaker. Juelian leaned in and whispered in Kyrlynn's ear, 'Do not do it.
' The words were enough for her to shake off the call. She covered her
ears, focusing with her mind to block it out.

More and more were gathering in the Grove. Reasoning with Boof and Narsh
was failing, the Siren's pull was too strong. 'Why are we not attacking? '
The General's words reached the monk's ears and she had a point.

'Enough of this, ' The elves and others began to prepare but Narsh and Boof,
still drawn by the siren both took her hand. All at once the illusion fell
away and the beast's true form was revealed. It was too late for the goblin
and yinn. They were gone. The battle began.

They fought hard but as with All the previous battles, they were All worse
off than the Aspect who had fled when she grew tired of toying with them.
The realization that the goblin and yinn had both been taken started to
filter through the group. Questions of how to get them back were answered
the same as they had been each time, pray for them and pray for their
return.

'You are safe? ' the voice in her head and the words startled her and all
at once filled her with a sense of relief. She almost smiled despite the
current situation. They waited for the goblin and yinn to be returned and
they were like most of the others. Both badly injured and both marked.

The monk sketched the markings hastily and handed them off to messengers as
she had been advised. She aided with the healing of the two and watched
each was gathered up to be taken somewhere comfortable to rest.

Kyrlynn and Uruvion headed back home to the groves. She wanted to let
someone know she was back in the vallens and safe. They stopped just south
of where the Elder was under guard and resting. She expected him to
continue on, as he was part of those guarding him but instead he motioned to
Kyrlynn and whispered, 'Go. '

This time she did smile, a grateful look on her face as she tipped her head
and headed north. She quietly entered the chambers where Thanatael was now
sleeping and watched her dear friend for several moments. Not wanting to
disturb him, she gently laid her hand upon his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
'We're home safe. '




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Sat Apr 29 11:11:19 2017




Writer: Zarina

Date Sat Apr 29 13:01:56 2017

To All (RP IMM Religion Storyline)

Subject There Would be No Failure



'Gods of Balance, Gods of Light, Gods of Darkness, please guide us in our
moment of need, give us strength to fight these beings, these horrible
creatures. Please, let our combined efforts be successful. Please watch
over your children as they face their greatest enemy.
' Zarina prayed
softly, something she had been doing since the attacks began to happen,
never being a religious person herself. She prayed to All the Gods, in hope
that at least one would hear her. She didn't know if Cliath could hear her,
if He would hear her, so she prayed to all.

She was worried about the upcoming battle, there could be no failure, they
had to fight and they had to win, that was the only option they had. It
gave her some peace that everyone was joining together, that All were
putting aside their differences and would fight together.

'Why are we marked? Why marked so many? What do they plan to do with us?
' The thoughts kept running through her head, jumping this way and that with
answers. 'Are we a danger to our friends if we fight as well? Could these
marks help to seal the Aspects away?
' Zarina sighs and shakes her head,
then glances down at her hand and smiles softly, touching the ring on
finger, he had proposed, that was a dream come true, they would plan for the
wedding, they had a future together and she knew, in her heart, that there
would be a future to look forward to.

There would be no failure.




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sat Apr 29 14:47:38 2017

To All Verminasia Equinox Imm Shadow Religion

Subject Seven Sins - Fractured


Dawn of the final day arrived and though Ashtiel was not asleep, she
could not fully rouse herself from the punishing nightmares that Pride had
tormented her with through the night.

The spiders skittered along the pews, covering everything around her and
crawling along her form as she lay on her back amongst the swarm. She no
longer made any move to swat them off or to prevent their passage. They
scurried through her hair, across her face but she stared unblinking at the
stained glass of the dome above her as her weary mind roamed between bits of
memory and nightmare. Fragments of her life whispered forth, intangible
things that lingered like smoke and trailed away because she hadn't the
remaining energy to focus on them.

The expansive cathedral around her was bathed in dim light colored by the
glass of the dome above. This room was full of history and the fractured
memories that flashed through her mind centered around it.

She remembered the pitter-patter of her own footsteps, carefree and barefoot
as she had come running into the cathedral, clothes covered in dirt. She
had slowed just past the entrance and walked the rest of the way, to where
Nymaya knelt in the pew.

She stood there then, in the aisle, staring up at her mother. Her eyes were
wide and inquisitive, her dark hair already long and shimmering with
youthful vibrancy in the low light.

Her mother had turned a little, unable to help the smile that came unbidden
to her lips, and at Ashtiel's insistence, had lifted her to sit on the edge
of the pew.

Ash, do you know what this is? Why I do it?

Her answer came as a silent head-shake. Patience carried in the smile her
mother gave her and as she began to explain, Ashtiel reached up to play with
the layered necklace of silver that hung around her neck, twining it around
her little fingers even though she had eyes only for her mother.

Prayer strengthens my soul, my convictions. It links me to Necrucifer and
though I am one of many, it shows the depths of my belief in Him.


He looks down on those who prove themselves worthy of His gaze, he takes
note of those who deserve His blessings. The more you pray, the stronger
your faith becomes and when your faith is strong, so too are you. Strength
is what will help define your place in Algoron.


"I don't just mean physical strength. You need a strong mind, a strong
soul, a strong sense of who you are and what you want.
" She went on when
Ash lifted her arm, imitating a flex. With a doting smile, her mother had
squeezed her arm affectionately.

"You will get stronger though. I promise. " They hugged then, just a small
child and her mother. "We will teach you how to use the swords. "

And on that word, her smile had beamed forth and she had squirmed herself to
the floor to go gather the little wooden sword carved with her family's
crest.

The memories faded from her abruptly and Ashtiel was brought back to the
present by the crawling sensation under her skin. The Aspect of Pride
shifted within her, claws wrapping around the edges of her thought to drag
her back into the realm of sleep and torment.




Writer: Uruvion

Date Sat Apr 29 16:56:25 2017




Writer: Aliera

Date Sat Apr 29 18:11:21 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 8: Bringing in the Blade



The forces of the Seraphs Blade, the private army that the Lord Crown and
She had been building in tandum for missions having to do with the call of
Nadriks faith and other issues of the Light, were camped in the frost
covered field of Alieras Arkanian estates, covering every inch of it in
tents and small fires, the thundering of the hooves of the calvary sounding
behind the cabin in the field beyond. With Pharis in her wake, she walked
through the camp to the cabin, and face to face with the three sub
commanders of the force, who saluted and bowed at her presence before she
set them at ease.

I be beggin ya pardon Maam, for ya know mae and tha boys bae as loyal as
they come to ya and the Lord Mercerion, even afore ya both were Generals,
Maam and far bae it for us to question an order from either of ya but-


Aliera smiled softly as she listened to the man, not interrupting as he
continued, growing a bit more animated in his words and gestures both.

'But what in tha name of tha Gods do ya think ya be doin' mobilizin' the
Keep for the end o' tha world and not takin' us with ya to into hell?
'

For the briefest of moments she was so thankful for the commanders before
her that it bubbled up from her in a laugh, and for a second it lit her
features with a delight that had long been missing from her even before all
of this had began. Reaching into the case at her hip, she withdrew the
orders, handing each of them in turn to the men before her as to how they
would be combined with the forces of Gareth the next day as she stated
simply, The Blade is deploying, here are your assignments.

Watching as the trusted men read over the penned orders of the Lord Crown,
another smile began to creep over her features as the first man spoke again.
The Lieutenant rubbing at the back of his neck in a bit of embarrassment as
color came to his cheeks and he looked back up at Aliera.

'Aye, Ma'am... Knew ya didn't forget us an all... The slightly gravely
voice stated at length before trailing off.

Aliera nodded gently and responded softly with reassurance in the tones of
both the man and some of her own ancestors, though she rarely ever used it
herself, Aye.





Writer: Aliera

Date Sat Apr 29 18:16:29 2017

To All Immortal Religion Storyline Knighthood

Subject Into the Abyss Part 9: Bringing in the Blade



Turning to Pharis, she introduced her newly minted Captain, as he would
be leading part of her forces and the men greeted each other amiably as she
spoke again, 'Captain MacGregor here will be leading the infantry units, see
that the men know his face.
Continuing, she outlined the rest of the
assignments, despite them having the written word in their hands, I expect
each of you to see that your men know their posts and commanders, for they
will be alongside those of the Keep as well.
'

She met their gazes, looking between the three of them as she continued,
'You have All served us well in the great many years you have been with us.
I know each of you to be loyal and faithful to the Lord Mercerion and Myself
as we have brought you together on behalf of the Council, but further I know
you each to be men of good hearts and strong faith. Prepare the men, pray
with them, take fellowship with them and enjoy this night together with your
brothers, it is important.


Pharis nodded his agreement with her and for not the first time in the last
several days she was reminded of how thankful she was to have the man at her
side. She had needed him a great deal more since she was returned by the
Grace of Austinian and the aid of her fellow Generals, but even before this
she had come to gradually depend on the Captain that was also becoming her
friend.

'Any questions? ' the Priestess General inquired of the four men before
her, prompting the youngest of the Blades commanders to speak up. He was a
young man that she had brought into the Blade nearly four years ago, a sandy
haired boy that made her heart hurt All of the sudden as she realized how
young he looked and was reminded of just how many of her very young men she
might be sending to their deaths tomorrow.

'Will you be praying with us Milady, before we march out? ' he asked
hesitantly, struggling to find his voice in the face of his General, let
alone the other leaders of men also in the room.

Aliera smiled softly, her features softening as she looks at the young man
before her and nodded gently, appearing for a moment the mother she also was
in addition to the Priestess and General. 'Yes Cecil... I will pray with
you before we march. This I promise you.


Dismissing her Commanders, she spoke with Pharis further before he too took
rest for a time, and the Bishop returned to the Keep and the task of
overseeing and praying for the rest of the several hundred men that would
ride in her command.

May Nadrik help them all.




Writer: Denth

Date Sat Apr 29 18:54:14 2017

To All Imm Religion

Subject Finding Courage



Sitting cross legged in meditation, Denth considers his youth a boon. No
time like the present to relax, Denth's aching feet have journeyed much,
tirelessly preparing those who take their final lessons before the day of
reckoning. Giving his equipment a cursory check, Denth sits and waits. His
restless fingers fidgeting about on a pad of tan vellum, Denth gives in to
his urges and picks up the quill, penning thoughts down. {oCould the aspects
of sin serve the grey str- Might the dungeon enjoy the pain caused by glu---

Short disjointed strokes of the quill start and end abruptly, each
speculation growing more wild than the next. All his thoughts written down
are left incomplete, unanswered and would incitingly provoke if any were to
come across the journal he carries.

Ripping out yet another sheet of vellum, Denth snarls in frustration before
balling up the page to join a growing mountain at his feet. The events of
the day bearing weight on him, a pressure pounding behind his ears remind
him he has had little to eat or drink. Attempting to finish a complete
thought on a fresh page, Denth begins writing anew at the top, {oWhat if all
this time, storm keep had intended for this. Would the device and rituals
be but a conduit to finish some kind of summoning? What if those who were
taken, All seven of them used as vessels, what if...
Denth leaves the
final sentence unsaid, afraid if in writing it, it might become true.
Looking up at the gathering clouds, he musters his courage and strides
towards the blistering dry and thirsty heat.




Writer: Uruvion

Date Sat Apr 29 21:38:10 2017




Writer: Benthic

Date Mon May 1 02:28:57 2017

To Zola Kahlyn All ( IMM RP RELIGION FATALE )

Subject The Calm Before the Storm



Benthic opened his eyes, his throat burning from the elongated scream.
"For Fatale, I must remain stoic, solid and steadfast, " he whispered. He
grinned, dark and malevolently. Precision is a must if one is to murder in
the fray. There are many ways to murder: outright, sword and dagger ripping
into flesh for All to see, or from the shadows... Silent.

Benthic chose from the shadows, he was, after all, shunned. This gave him
leave to strike and be done with it quickly and without lingering. He
practiced quick and decisive blade strikes and movements that are hidden
from view. After a good six hours, Benthic finally smiled, drenched in
sweat. Soon they All would know the ferocity of his game and how he was
dedicated to his Lord.




Writer: Arreana

Date Mon May 1 11:27:50 2017

To All Althainia Knighthood Justice Immortal Taliena Religion Storyline Roleplay

Subject Not Alone: Patience 3/3


/ Not Alone: Time's Changing, Arreana, feat: n/a 10 /
| Arreana had been saved by those words. She opened her eyes once more and |
| allowed herself a moment to take in her surroundings, to remember where she |
| was. The walls and buildings of Althainia rose up around her regally. |
| |
| While time hadn't won that battle, she'd overcome the adversity in spite |
| of it. Time hadn't won the war, and, at times, it was an ally. |
| |
| However, Arreana quickly rose through the ranks of the Wrath of Justice, |
| she continued to commit herself to Taliena as well. The goddess of Love |
| would often visit in one form another. But that had been so long ago, it |
| sometimes felt like another lifetime, one when she had been young and |
| bright-eyed. |
| |
| Arreana continued on, in spite of the silence. As far as she was |
| concerned, at the very least, silence meant that she wasn't doing anything |
| wrong. The dark pantheon was well-known for the punishments by its members. |
| Even shows of gratification was often wrought with painful experiences, or |
| so she had heard. |
| |
| Discipline, however, was not absent from the Light of Goodness. There were |
| rules to be followed, divine laws that, if broken, could see one cast out |
| from the faith, sometimes violently. Yet, not once had Taliena even |
| chastised Arreana. She wasn't perfect, far from it, but Arreana had |
| apparently never done something to invoke Taliena's ire. For that, she was |
| grateful. |
| |
| Silence was fine, the mission given to Arreana had been quite clear. Yet, |
| Arreana had completed a major piece towards that mission. She had invested |
| years worth of effort into the creation of a unified religious text, one |
| which was intended to wrap together the many faiths of the Light, and to |
| show how the whole is greater than its parts. |
| |
| The book itself was completed. It didn't mean that it couldn't undergo |
| revision. It was an effort that Arreana had completed in the spirit of |
| collaboration. It was meant to be a text that captured the diversity in the |
| family of the Light, as well as the similarities and bonds that brought them |
| together. |
| |
| However, without word from the gods that the book wasn't sacrilege, |
| Arreana dared do little more than share it in person. The book needed to be |
| accepted by each member of the family, and Arreana awaited their approval. |
| She knew that the patience developed over a lifetime of waiting would be |
| needed, but something else was needed as well: determination. |
| |
| Arreana would not give up, not until she was dead, or her work was done. |
\ \





Writer: Benthic

Date Mon May 1 15:37:41 2017




Writer: Gavriel

Date Mon May 1 16:15:43 2017

To All Althainia Knighthood imm roleplay rp

Subject No Bones About It



By rights, he could've been laid up for weeks, still in pain for months
after the surgery. Without the care he'd been given, the magically enhanced
healing he'd received both during and in the days after the procedure, he
would've been.

But he'd seen people this past week dropped in the dirt, battered, bloody,
bruised, and knocking on Death's door who, after being healed, were up and
walking around without a problem. Many of them had even fought in the last
battle against the demon aspects.

Meanwhile Gavriel was nursing muscles sorer than he'd felt in years after
yesterday's exertions, even though he knew what he'd gone through was
nothing compared to the torture and torment those others had experienced.
Gav had always thought he was the hardy sort, able to bounce back pretty
quickly from an injury... But apparently he still had nothing on these
other folk.

At least he was able to take off the original bandages, now, and make use of
the salve he'd been given. As a numbing agent, it meant the maddening
itching from the still-reddened stitching the knight had done to close
Gavriel back up was reduced to a manageable level. He'd used exercise,
yesterday, to ignore the desire to scratch, and it had worked well enough,
but now he paid a different price. Yet another of life's reminders proving
the Lord's wisdoms of Temperance and Moderation.

Gav took one of the pills he kept in a case in his pack, pills that had
served him well during this recovery period, and started packing up his
stuff to check out of the tavern room he was staying in. He wasn't about to
push himself like he had yesterday, but he still needed to get out and move,
to avoid the stiffness and restricted movement that came from muscles
healing without being stretched.




Writer: Uruvion

Date Mon May 1 17:45:41 2017




Writer: Uruvion

Date Mon May 1 17:46:41 2017




Writer: Uruvion

Date Mon May 1 17:47:39 2017




Writer: Uruvion

Date Tue May 2 00:30:44 2017

To Shalonesti All Equinox Tashio Cahlizna ( Imm Rp Religion Zandreya )

Subject Coffee and Warnings



His eyes burned, his body ached more than usual, even his mouth hurt.
The globes of light weren't helping and he was hungry. A young steward of
the library, by some miracle walked by the open door of the records room in
the library with coffee and Uruvion smelled it.

"I'll take that pot, and keep them coming. " He said towards the doorway
and the steward stopped, not quite sure what to do then looked around in
some cunfusion but set the pot of black liquid gold on the desk then shook
her head while she exited, muttering something about being paid and not
enough.

The elf had seemed to find a few books on dreams. The usual things at least
he thought on meanings, how to use dreams to achieve goals, dreaming the
weight of your body, but one book caught his attention. It was smaller than
the others and seemed faded and worn for worse. He opened the leather book
cover and saw a name. No title, no indication of what the contents of the
book were. He thought is was the author and flipped to the first page.

It seemed like another long night of no sleep as he kept reading word after
word, flipping back, flipping forward the pages, taking sips to keep him
awake. He heard a door slam, then another, then another. The loudness
seemed to jolt him, an uneasy feeling overcame him and he reached for his
staff. Then the globes flickered then there was nothing but darkness.

"The Sage was right. "

Uruvion whipped his head around then his body, hoping his eyes would adjust
to the absence of light but it was no use. "What do you want, better yet
who are you?
"

"You know what I am. Thaleron, he screamed when he saw me, and his flesh
tore like a hand moving through water.
" All that could be seen as the
voice spoke were eyes that burned a deep crimson that actually made Uruvion
stiffen and the hair on his body stand.

The elf's grip tightened oh his staff, knuckles becoming white if one could
see and his gloves were off. "Take this as a reminder and proof that I am
here, and he and I are coming.
" Before Uruvion could say anything, utter
the words to bring forth the Mother's fire, an intense and sharp pain came
across his stomach, he could feel the blood soaking his shirt and skin. A
large wolf, not like the ones he knew, but monsterous in size, a coat of fur
darker than the recesses of a souless night faded into sight. It's teeth
sharper than the finest elven blade, used for the soul purpose to kill
dripped what looked like saliva, tinged with red.

The elf fell out of his chair with a crash and clamored to stand up,
grabbing for his staff then at his bleeding stomach. He made it to his
knees and snatched the old worn leather book from the desk then told himself
to get up, he wasn't going to bleed All over the library. He'd never hear
the end of it from one of the young volunteers.

He held his shirt as he walked out as quickly as a bleeding man could and
some hooded figure bumped into his shoulder, knocking him back a bit, having
to grit his teeth from yelling then continued on back to the hall.




Writer: Orlathion

Date Tue May 2 08:10:09 2017




Writer: Nymaya

Date Tue May 2 10:46:57 2017

To All Verminasia ( Equinox Cayenna Storyline RP ) Nagash|Uvall

Subject Rehabilitation



The sound of the staff clattering to the ground once again made her grit
her teeth but she did not hesitate to grab it back up. Her whole hand was
stiff, aching and the loss of the finger was impacting her grip in ways she
could not have foreseen.

The cleric who had been sent to aid the rehabilitation had advised her to
wait a week more before she began weapon's training but restlessness had set
in. The Verminasian manor was empty again, silent, and she felt it keenly.

Annoyance bled into her routine and the next time the staff fell, she placed
it back on its rack and hesitantly took her sword to hand. It hadn't been
happen's chance that she had chosen the left pinky for Nagash. It was
pleasing to have the familiar hilt in her good hand, even if it did force her
to feel the scars.

The process of moving through sword forms followed, making her acutely aware
of how sore her entire body was and with a thoughtful, mental nod at the
apparently very learned cleric's advice, she finished and tidied up the
training room.

Night was heavy on the land when she absconded to the bedroom. A tray with
ice, towels and wine awaited, along with a stack of pillows to elevate her
hand.

'You must keep it elevated to reduce swelling and speed healing to the
injured nerves, Lady Kayen.' He had said, All business as he eyed the
cauterized stub with obvious trepidation and appreciation. According to the
man, he'd never seen a better sealing on such a wound before. It stood to
reason, she thought with a wry edge and took a sip of the unique elvish
wine. It was dated some few hundred years now and not conspicuously
concurrent with the timeframe surrounding her exile.

Bitter. She thought with further raw amusement and settled herself on the
bed, a small wrapped towel of ice on her hand, her nearly empty glass in the
other and low flames dancing in the fireplace across the way.

The soft click of the door interrupted her reverie as she dozed and upon
trying to open her eyes, she found herself sluggish, unable to focus her
senses. Was that...the cleric? He had been invited to stay for the
duration of her healing but the hour was beyond late.

She tried to speak but no sound rose and abruptly, her throat felt aflame,
as if she'd breathed-- her thought cut off at the faintest hint of a
familiar acrid scent. Alarm rattled through her and every ounch of her
attention set on the cleric, who even then reached out to lift her hand, to
study the sealed injury.

Nymaya. It chided with mock concern. You are supposed to take care of
yourself. And it grinned, the expression gruesome. What do you think
he'll do with it.

She couldn't move but her gaze lifted to meet red pupils surrounded by
soulless black.

...and she snapped awake, still tasting the acrid scent.




Writer: Betha

Date Tue May 2 14:44:14 2017

To All Wargar Thaxanos Fardoc Carrionmaw Equinox Jiffy Storyline Religion Cliath Nadrik Imm RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - A Different Gem



The clink clink clink of Betha's tools echoed throughout the halls of
Wargar. She didn't give notice to the activities of the other dwarves who
healed in the pantheon or the drunken songs that drifted out of the tavern.

Tucked away in the ancient cavern, the gemsmith pecked away at the biggest
gem she had ever worked on. Betha labored meticulously on the red crystal,
first forming the piece with a tool imbued with the sure strike rune. Once
in the shape of a dragon's scale, she began to sheath off thin shards that
left the large piece more and more smooth. After a few moments she would
stop, run her hand gently over the surface to feel for imperfections and
then angle her stance to carefully shave off the offending dimple.

The large piece of crystal had been unearthed from the mountain near the red
crystal shrine. Hammer of Cliath had uncovered it from the soil easily and
Betha wondered if perhaps Cliath had chosen this piece to be revealed. The
runesmith began to apply runes of protection, to keep it safe in transit.
The strength being applied caused the glass's color to darken. Betha
worried that it wouldn't match.

The final rune she applied caused the gem to rise and float safely above the
ground. Betha then pushed the gem up the mountain and into Wargar hall.
She chose the ancient cavern to work in for it's silence and isolation from
activity. She needed to concentrate singularly on this item while crafting
it to fit.

Once perfectly smooth, a bit of inspiration struck and Betha flipped the
glass over and started to etch in a special design. It required various
cuts at opposing, parallel and connecting angles to get the glimmering
visual affect the she hoped to install. Once finished, she dusted away all
the tiny pieces, then rubbed in a glowing polish.

She raised the scale-like gem to float and guided it outside for final
inspection. When the sunlight infused into the gem, the color was perfect.
Betha tapped an edge and then stepped back to assess the crystal scale as it
began to slowly rotate. The tiny, delicate faucets she had cut on the
inside began to glint and glitter radiantly. One would need to look closely
to see the image of the rune that gives strength and protection to the
heart

She thought this to be an appropriately protective and resplendent
replacement of the scale that a dragon had given, to help save the realms
from the lusts.






Writer: Uruvion

Date Tue May 2 19:49:14 2017

To Shalonesti IMM All ( RP Religion Zandreya )

Subject Slow Endure



The sun was shining and the leaves rustled through the tall trees.
Hanging from one of the Vallenwoods were two long ropes and attached to that
was a wooden plank, fashioned into a swing.

A small foot path cut through a field to a rather large lake. The sounds of
birds chirpping while in flight and laughter filled the mid-summer's day.
Off in the distance stood Uruvion. His eyes focused on the a child that
seemed to be bent over, reaching and splashing into the water while another
child, seeming a little older splashed back.

Uruvion's body was rigid, he couldn't move. He wanted to move. He wanted
to move more than anything in the world. He tried with All his strength to
make his body move and he got nothing. He was stuck in the nightmare he had
on occasions.

Those children weren't laughing and he knew them. The one at the edge of
the lake bent over was him as a child, trying his hardest, his best to save
his older sister from drowning.

He saw the younger self thrust a stick for his sister to grab but as soon as
it entered the water, the flailing, the splashing, the pleas of trying to
breathe ceased and she was gone.

A bodiless voice yelled in his ear, "Go save her! " And his body was thrust
with a mighty force into the lake. His own body was flailing wildly trying
to reach the surface but it felt like boulders were strapped to his feet,
keeping him from his goal. He wanted air. The voice rang in his ear again,
seeming even louder, "You are weak! There is nothing you or anyone else can
do!
"

He twisted and turned his body, his arms swung wildly trying to carry the
weight of whatever was keeping him down up to the lake's surface. He could
see it, wanted it, then the body of his sister floated by. He closed his
eyes to shield himself from the horror he was going to see. Uruvion thought
the worst but opened his eyes, not by choice but from something telling him
to and yelled what seemed louder than any explosion taken straight on to
wake up.

He clawed the water of the pool in the common grove, his body finally free
and he propelled himself to the rocks of the water fall, his body bent over
and lurching and wretching the water from his stomach and lungs. The elf
fell and rolled onto his back, his bandage bleeding through as he coughed
heavily. After a while he made himself get up and made it to the other side
of the pool. He grabbed his belongings and slowly made his way to the
portal. He needed a new bandage, dry clothes, and he had duties to tend,
and some people to find.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Wed May 3 10:12:46 2017

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Zandreya Tashio Immortal ( Roleplay )

Subject Research and exhaustion



Back and forth across the library, Kyrlynn paced as she scanned through
the book in her hand. She had returned home, exhausted and in need of rest
but it wasn't happening until she did some research. She had found the
Senator, whom she considered a dear friend, gravely injured that morning.
The image of him lying on the blood-soaked grass still fresh in her mind.
He was barely breathing and pale from the bloodloss. She had assessed the
injury, a large jagged wound on his stomach and set to trying to heal the
wound. It had proven difficult, taking a good bit of her energies to even
see some improvement and still his pain had persisted. She had applied her
salves and offered him herbs to ease his discomfort as she bandaged the
wound.

He had improved as the day went on, the rest doing much for his recovery so
Kyrlynn had felt comfortable going home to do some research of her own.
Frustraion marred her face though as she wondered back and forth across the
room. There were a few stacks of books on the table, ones she had already
combed through and ones still waiting. Dread-wolf. So far she had only see
it mentioned in stories, such as fables and mythological tales.

Dream wolf. None of the stories were good. It was a fearsome and horrible
beast that fed off of fear and despair. She could only imagine how much
power it had gained during the sin attacks.. So much fear across the realms
over what was coming. Its no wonder that it had laid in wait, probably
gaining strength and feeding off the emotions that had gripped the world.

Kyrlynn sighed and pinched at the bridge of her nose. This was not working,
maybe she should return to the groves. She piled some books into her
satchel and gathered up a few more things. She hardly spent much time here
these days, so much so it didn't feel as much like home as it used to. The
Groves did though, maybe she could rest there. On the trek back to the
groves, Kyrlynn heard the distant howling of a pack of wolves. The sound
left her feeling uneasy, made her walk a bit faster.




Writer: Jane

Date Wed May 3 12:10:39 2017

To All with Narsh and Gavriel and Zandreya

Subject Time Is Relentless (1 of 2)



She couldn't honestly say that she was happy with where things were
going. No matter how many people she met or places she went, she didn't
have it in here to be the cheerful, optimistic sort. For some people, the
moment the fighting was over meant a full return to life. She'd seen people
celebrating in bars and taverns. She'd heard the cheerful conversations and
watched a few parade around as if nothing had even happened. Every time she
saw someone beaming a smile she felt herself getting angry.

Even at herself.

What else could everyone do besides try and move on, though?

A few services were starting to happen, according to the gossip. Folks were
offering prayers and condolences, doing pretty rites and rituals to help the
living cope with the passing of life. People were mourning their losses.
Some were coming together to share in the camaraderie after such a
terrifying thing. Others were drifting away, lost in the sea of their own
thoughts and turmoil.

Had it been days, now? Weeks or months? When was it alright to begin to
feel happy again? When was it alright to start smiling and laughing without
feeling guilty about those lighter and more pleasant emotions?

Sitting in the Icewall Mission, curled up on the couch and bundled into a
warm blanket Narsh had brought her, Jane carefully read the Writ of Travel
again. It was the fifth day since who All was going to return had. While
it was true that a lot of people had been set down in odd places,
Adventurers had used their magic to make portals, to communicate. They were
fond of lists and showing off and so it had been a big affair of getting
everyone back home where they belonged.

There had been no Jane A d'Arcey, though. Her grandmother had not been
returned. Her grandmother had perished in that dark, awful place. Alone.

The tears prickled at her eyes again, but she closed them and fought down
the rising grief and anger. She'd already cried so much. There was a lot
more she could put that energy toward.

Another letter arrived for her to read. This time it was from Gavriel and
she smiled some to see the familiar hand writing. The strokes were bold and
hasty and in his words she saw the same uncertain kind of heart break she
was trapped within. Gavriel was a good man and he wanted desperately to do
more. Every day, he was becoming more the Adventurer. She wondered how
much longer before he was famous. Not solely for the sacrifice he'd given,
but because of who he was at his core. Already he was spending time around
the Althainia nobility and royalty and while he was naturally a more sturdy
and stable person that she was, his calm with it had been almost inspiring.

Sighing, JR put the letter into her coat pocket where she kept the
tangerines. She then looked toward her boots sitting on the floor.




Writer: Jane

Date Wed May 3 12:40:14 2017

To All with Narsh and Gavriel and Zandreya

Subject Time Is Relentless (End)



It was Narsh that had found her sitting in the tavern in Althainia. He
was soft footed for someone easily nine feet tall and covered in weapons and
armor. His quiet 'boo' near her ear had surprised her and drawn her out of
her miserable thoughts and given her a grateful distraction from them.

He'd told her that he was checking on her and part of her felt a lot of
gratitude. In truth, she'd been so upset her insides had been a tempest of
unrest. She hadn't felt like reaching out to anyone, or engaging in more of
the exhausting training that Adventurers went through. She hadn't been able
to write or draw or sing. All she'd managed to do was hand that annoying
elf named Spirz a bar of soap in a fit of irritation before she'd walked
away.

With a mind to wait for Gavriel to come back from whatever he was up to,
she'd sat down at the table she and the man had first talked out. The
parchment on the table had suffered a few mindless strokes from her quill,
but she'd not made much progress when Narsh had found her.

JR had watched him struggle to sit down in seats that weren't meant for
someone his size. A briefly odd thought considering Althainia's protector
was a half ogre and if she'd heard right, Meki used to live in the city. It
seemed odd that such a place wouldn't be more accommodating to the races
that were larger. A quick talk with the kind waitress had seen to Narsh
having a stool rather than one of the chairs and she'd felt her first
flicker of happiness watching the yinn grin sheepishly almost in thanks.

They talked for a while, and shared coffee from the decanter she had. She
could no longer remember who had gifted it to her, but she felt like it was
probably Narsh. She had a vague recollection of promising to donate at
least three in return.

At some point, he'd finally asked her and she'd told him. She was already
miserable and it didn't help that as she cried in front of Narsh she felt
guilty about upsetting him. She hated making people worry and she knew
exactly how he'd probably feel. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Frustrated.
All the emotions that came with seeing someone in pain and wanting to help,
but not being able to really do anything other than listen. Knowing that
wasn't going to solve anything.

Instead, he'd done for her something that very few probably could have. He
guided her to the hidden temple to Turpa, now Zandreya, deep in the
mountains of Icewall. Narsh had waited, quietly and patiently, as she'd
sobbed into the crying winds and prayed so hard her heart ached. The yinn
had let her be as she'd moaned and screamed against the unfairness of it all
and begged the gods to give her grandmother peace and ease, to carry a
message of love to wherever the gentle and beautiful woman's soul was. He
had listened to her ramble about how the Sky embraced every race no matter
their other differences.

Then, without speaking, he had guided her to the Icewall mission and brought
her blankets and something warm to drink. He had agreed to go with her into
the Verminasian territory to find something that could replace the necklace
she'd left behind so she could always have a piece of her grandmother with
her.

At some point, she'd laughed and smiled. And then she'd fallen asleep,
bundled up in the borrowed blanket.

Time waited for no man, but she realized that sometimes you needed a push
from an unexpected source.




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Writer: Jane
Date Thu May 4 12:45:18 2017

To All and Lothaw and Zandreya

Subject Hangovers Are (Not) Fun



Headache? Check.

Slightly blurry vision. Double Check.

Thirst? Thirst..?

Her eyes fell on the twin, empty mugs of ale sitting almost a whole foot
away from the couch of the Icewall Mission. Her addled mind worked the
reason for their existence and for a moment she almost thought a party must
have happened. On and in her head. While she was asleep.

Pushing herself up with a groan, she wiped sleep crust from her eyes and a
bit of drool from her cheek.

Her bladder and her throat warred over which one was going to get attention
first.

She stumbled her way to the fountain and took a few deep swallows, grateful
that at least her stomach wasn't complaining much. While cradling the
growling beast, she went to relieve herself and the bitter bite of the
Icewall air snapped her awake. The ground also reminded her that she did
not have shoes on. Doing her business quickly, she carefully made her way
back inside and sat back down on the couch, letting the fire warm up her
soles and toes.

No sooner than she sat down did the Lord Lothaw Ka'tel's voice slip into her
head. Thankfully, he was a very calm sort and his voice wasn't a painful
intrusion. "Cheerfully melancholy" is how he described it and she found
herself glad she wasn't face-to-face with the man. Er, elf. Then came the
explanation of what she'd been saying and she felt a sigh leave her before
she lifted her own decanter to her lips.

She frowned.

She must have emptied out the coffee and replaced it with water at some
point. She wasn't thrilled, but it was probably better for her and the
headache she was nursing.

"Indeed, sometimes life does happen in that regard. Good to know you'll
carry on though.
"

With that, the conversation with Lothaw ended into an awkward silence. On
one hand, she was a little stunned people remembered she was alive in the
first place. On the other, she wondered how much of that was mere
upbringing politeness than actual sincerity. And on a foot, did it really
matter? The man had reached out to her on his own to make sure she wasn't
taking up cliff diving. Into rocks.

That left the final foot.

Looking down at it, she wiggled her toes while her mind struggled to clear
and focus. Her stomach growled again, annoyed that she was ignoring it in
favor of her moping, and she patted it consolingly.

"Guess that foot's for me and whatever's next. Yeah, breakfast first, then
it's time to pack. Can't mope forever. And definitely no more o' that ale,
yeesh.
"




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Thu May 4 14:55:59 2017

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_king Tashio Zandreya Immortal ( Roleplay )

Subject The past is what nightmares are made of?



Counting stars in the night sky, Kyrlynn shifted on the make shift bed
she had made in the grass. A blanket for warmth and a small pillow, it was
more than enough for the time being. The Senator was a short distance away,
amidst some trees. He was likely doing more reading and research, she was
trying to give him his privacy but remaining close in the event of another
attack. A sigh escaped her lips as exhaustion finally overtook her and her
eyes fell closed.

Suddenly she found herself back in the palace in Althainia. She looked
around with a confused and groggy expression and was immediately tackled by
a small giggling figure. It took a moment for Kyrlynn's mind to register
what she was seeing, Kaedinn, her son at about four years of age. Tears
filled her eyes and streaked down her cheeks as she hugged the little boy
tightly. He squirmed and giggled loudly before throwing her arms around her
neck to hug her in return. Oh how she had missed him and missed the sounds
of his laughter. Confusion riddled her thoughts as her mind seemed to know
that something did not feel right.

It didn't matter right now though because her heart was doing the leading
and it was over joyed. At the insistence of the boy, she sat him down and
he quickly curled his tiny fingers around her hand. He took off running
down the palace corridors, tugging his mother along with him. 'Where are we
going, little bear?' 'Books mommy!' She laughed with delight as he led
her to the palace library and right to the chair that they always sat in.
She promptly took up her seat in the chair and watched as Kaedinn searched
for his favorite. He growled loudly as he grabbed a book from the shelves
and bound into Kyrlynn's lap. "Oh my, you are getting to be such a scary
bear! "

Confusion marred her face once more as she looked down to where the small
child had been moments earlier but he was gone. "What are you doing mother?
" Kyrlynn nearly jumped out of her seat at the voice and shifted her gaze to
the man leaning against the doorway of the library. It was Kaedinn, though
much older than four years old. Infact he looked just as he had the last
time she saw him. A lump formed in her throat, it threatened to choke her
but try as she might, she couldn't force it back down. She forced a smile
to her now grown son but deep down she knew now why things did not feel
right.

The monk blinked and looked down at the chest that appeared in her hands,
tears already starting to pour down her cheeks as she glanced up and saw
that Kaedinn no longer stood before her. She couldn't open the chest, she
wouldn't. A look was not needed, she knew with absolute certainty what was
in the box and it was not something she ever wished to see. As fast as she
could, she rushed the chest to the table, willing it out of her hands as
fast as possible but as she sat it down she realized that the chest was now
open. The image of the head in the box assaulted her eyes before she could
close them. She heard the scream before it ever left her lips.

She bolted upright from the grass, her hand clamping over her mouth tightly
to silence her scream. She gasped for breathe, her fingers spreading to
allow the fresh air through them and into her lungs. The monk shook her
head, tears rolling down her cheeks in a steady stream though they did
nothing to blur the image in her mind. It wouldn't go away, it haunted her
vision till she clenched her eyes tightly shut. The hair on the back of her
neck started to raise as she heard the eerie howl of a wolf in the distance
but this was not like the normal howls she had heard. She knew it was the
dread-wolf. There would be no more sleep tonight, she had a salve to make
and more research to do. Anything to keep her mind off that image. "That
bastard will pay for that." She mumbled and stood up.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Fri May 5 00:21:51 2017

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Zandreya Tashio Immortal ( Roleplay )

Subject Night Terrors



Exhaustion clawed at the monk as she settled down in the grass. The
image of her Kaedinn still fresh in her mind and haunting her. Sleep was
not something she was looking forward to but she was no good to anyone if
she didn't get some sort of rest. Meditation. It was something that she
was well versed in and had done for many years, though she wasn't sure she
had ever used it as a subsitute for sleep. She was willing to try anything
to avoid more dreams about Kaedinn, at least those kind.

She folded her legs up and started her breathing exercises. Deep breath
in. Exhale out. In theory it was good but the problem is that when you are
exhausted, relaxing often means falling asleep. That is exactly what
happened. Minutes after her meditating had begun, she was sound asleep.
Sleep consumed her for a time, her mind perhaps too exausted but eventually
she give in to the call of the dreamworld. '

Laughter and singing filled the air. She recognized the voices immediately,
the laughter was Kaedinn's and the singing was Caecius. A smile spread over
her face as she wondered around the garden, looking for the two children to
no avail. Each time that she thought she had found them, they would appear
to move further away again. An internal panic was starting to set in but
she tried to control it. It was surely just her imagination, if they were
in danger would they be singing and laughing? Certainly not.

'Children? Where are you? ' She called out and she heard them call back.
'Right here Mommy! ' Their response stopped her right in her tracks, a deep
shiver moving up her spine. The voices were coming from right behind her
but they weren't there moments ago, they were no where in sight. She
swallowed hard and slowly turned on her heels. Her gaze fell upon a large
and hideous looking wolf.

A snarl tore from its lips as Kyrlynn stumbled back a few steps, needing to
put some distance between herself and the beast. It stalked towards her,
rows of sharp teeth glistening in the light. Kyrlynn swallowed hard, slowly
stepping backwards as she glanced behind her with the briefest of looks,
searching for a path away from the foul beast. What was it that Uruvion had
told the other elf in regards to what we knew about fighting it thus far?
Run. That is exactly what the elf did.

She turned on her heels and bolted through the trees but the wolf was
fast, insanely fast. A scream of pain ripped from her lips as the bite of
the wolf's claws tore into her arm and side. She tumbled forward in the
grass, rolling a few feet before coming to a stop. The wolf snarled at her
and stalked towards her as she tried to regain her senses. The pain was
throbbing in her ears, making her head swim. She noticed that her staff was
still held tightly in her other hand, a tactic she had adopted since taking
the field and one she was glad about in this moment. '

The Monk focused as much of her energy as she could and shifted herself into
a crouch, getting her feet back under her. In one swift movement she swung
her staff as hard as she could at the wolf, hearing nothing but a thump and
a yelp as she felt the staff connect. No time to look. No time to waste.
There was only time to run and precious moments at that. She ran as hard as
she could, she knew the wolf was on her heels. She could feel it.

Kyrlynn nearly crashed into the pond or rather splashed into it as she
suddenly found herself back in the groves, or maybe it had just felt like
she was somewhere else. She neither had the energy or the focus to even
begin to sort it out right now. She glanced down at her left side, blood
starting to soak through her clothing and onto the grass. Her arm, her side
and along her hip All covered in deep gashes from the wolf's claws. Her
head was swimming though, a deep burning setting in with the wounds. She
would tend them..... In a moment... When she could foc...




Writer: Gavriel

Date Fri May 5 09:01:59 2017

To All imm roleplay rp

Subject Multiple Fractures



Gavriel knew that look. He'd seen it more times than he cared to
remember. That was the look of endings, of heartbreak. Even in the best of
cases Gav had never known the friendship to recover, not fully.

But he couldn't take that chance. There were risks he couldn't take, pains
he wouldn't inflict on others. She would recover from this and eventually,
he was sure, she'd find somebody to give her what he couldn't.

She walked out, brushing past Gav as he stood there with his head down. She
took her drinks with her, an expression on her face that said she might not
stop with those. He didn't try to follow. There'd be no point. He
couldn't explain, or offer the comfort needed.

Gavriel sighed, his voice barely a whisper. "I weren't lyin' when I said I
was broken..."




Writer: Denth

Date Fri May 5 10:12:03 2017

To All imm

Subject Cheesecake for days



Setting on foot in front of the other, Denth warily looks about. Lately,
he's been jumping at shadows from every corner. The aspects touch on this
world left him cold, weary... But most of all, so very hungry. Walking
wearily upon cobblestones, Denth makes not a sound with his studded leathers
wrapped closely about him. Not a sound that is, save for the growing rumble
deep within. Denth frowns looking down at his traitorous stomach willing it
to be quiet. His stomach however does not oblige no matter how he rubs his
abdomen. The gnawing hunger assails his thoughts, crumbling his will.

Looking to Arkane's temple on his right, the half elven brewmaster considers
stepping in to see if the priest would share some of their blessed bread and
wine to ease his famished torment which saps his will. Fishing in his
pockets for anything remotely edible, Denth comes across a piece of the
parchment which has squiggly lines about some parrot which never lies.
Attempting to chew on it, the hungry brewmaster gags and hurls, the vile
tasting ink taking away which little else he had painfully left in his empty
stomach.

When suddenly a waft of divine fragrance drifts down from on high towards
him. Following his nose straight north from the temple of Arkane, Denth
quickens his pace almost to a full speed run... Following the blissfully
heavenly scent, what could it be? A hanging restaurant sign above the fine
establishment reads Grayclaw's Seafood Delights

Stepping into the exquisite glass and colorful marine decor that welcomes
one and all, Denth gasps with the last of his strength, "{oOne Hundred orders
of cheesecake with sweet berries {ofor here please"




Writer: Laeroth

Date Fri May 5 17:43:46 2017




Writer: Uruvion

Date Fri May 5 18:39:45 2017

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Tashio IMM All ( RP Religion Zandreya )

Subject Believe



He sat in silence at the pond chewing on yellow roots and white bark
pieces to kill the pain. They weren't working. He had asked to be alone
and the Speaker, Anathaelynn, Laeroth, and Kyrlynn let him be to his
thoughts.

The Dread-Wolf was growing in strength. This pet of the ancient demon was
becoming relentless in it's attacks. The night before it got to Kyrlynn,
and a few moments ago, him again.

He remembered doctoring Kyrlynn up from her wounds. Nothing life
threatening but enough to cause some intense pain and discomfort. He
remembered saying he was going to read, and sat at the pond with the book he
found in the library. Exhaustion over took him. Sleepless nights mixed
with coffee lost the fight to sleep.

A bonfire in the middle of his parent's field was roaring. It was tall and
he could feel the heat from a distance. He saw his parents sitting on a log
next to each other, then the yells and cries of dwarves, the rumbling of the
earth as countless bearded men and women broke through the tree line and
behind them fires consuming the forest that bordered his old parent's home.







The blaze ate everything, the dwarves, his parents, his childhood home. It
was a scene that made him feel ill, then a new scene melted into the
previous one.

The fire was raging All around him, nothing was left untouched by flame.
The gates to the Kingdom, the Vallens, All engulfed and consumed by raging
winds of fire. He couldn't speak or move, as he saw his friends and now his
family screaming for an end while they were bound. What he saw was himself.
Holding his staff high, calling on the Mother's wrath. Uruvion wanted to
scream and yell, but couldn't open his mouth to do so. The fires ripped
around his still form and then the beast came to stand next to him.

"There is nothing you can do Uruvion. They're All going to die. It will be
your fault.
"

The elf was finally able to speak, but in a hushed tone of fear and sad
anguish, "What is this? What did I do? "





Writer: Uruvion

Date Fri May 5 19:09:44 2017

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Tashio IMM All ( RP Religion Zandreya )

Subject Believe - II



Standing next to Uruvion was a large beast. A creature from the darkest
reaches of nightmares. A mutilated wolf with souless black eyes leered at
the elf. A feral growl emanated from a shrivled throat, mangy fur matted
with clotted blood and pus seeped from numerous pustulant wounds. Gouges
and decaying flesh revealed a decrepit ribcage and atrophied muscles.
Putrescent bile dripped from long and bared fangs.

"You have failed everyone. Your family, the Vallens, the Mother. Do you
see what you have done?
"

The elf tried to close his eyes but was unable to. The fires raged, screams
of agony and pleas for him to stop rang in his ears. "No. This isn't real,
this isn't right.
" Dread filled the elf's body from head to toe.

The wolf of nightmares, the dreaded creature that consumed one's fear,
misery, and despair now stood in front of him, the flames dancing around it,
and even catching what fur it had on fire.

"They will see and believe we are coming. " The dread wolf knocked Uruvion
down with a large forepaw, his own fire consuming him, he shook with great
pain coursing through his flesh and bones. "We will make them see. " The
hellish hound stood over the eldritch and with one claw, drove it into his
right eye, digging at the soft organ.

The elf felt every bit of pain, screaming and writhing, the claw seeming to
hit the back of his skull then withdrew with bloody ball of soft tissue on
the tip and wiped it off on the ground of fire. "Show them. "

He woke up yelling for it to get away, get it away from him. Kyrlynn had
splashed water on his head to wake him up. Standing just a few feet away
were the Speaker, Anathaelynn, Laeroth, and Kyrlynn tending to him.

The elf shook his head back to the present, the pain very real, the attack
very real as he sat at the pool with new bandages around his head and eye.
He got up and went to the resting pads, he would find answers, and didn't
have time to be in pain.




Writer: Nymaya

Date Sat May 6 13:45:22 2017

To All Uruvion Kyrlynn Tashio Imm ( RP ) Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom

Subject Discreet Inquiries



"What do you seek, my lady?" The voice of the librarian was strange,
uninflected.

His robe was a plain earthen brown and hid much of whoever he was but
his aura left her with a rather distinct sense of age.

"Folklore." She stated and felt a rise of trepidation. She did not
need to poke at this particular beast but, her curiosity was piqued.
"Tales of the dread-wolf. As well, any lore you may have on Sha'katas."

The man made a curious sound and lifted his head a little, presumably
to look at her better.

"Those are unusual titles in this part of the world. I will need some
time." His remark was threaded with appreciation for the challenge she
had unwittingly presented him and she tipped her head to his polite bow.

The library was archaic, possessed of impressively tall book cases, a
second floor balcony with alcoves for privacy and high shadowy arches.
Heavy iron chandeliers cast light over long tables but there was no
natural flame whatsoever, even from the standing candelabra. She stood
in place for nearly a half hour before the robed man returned, carrying
only three books.

"You are the Lady Kayen?" He asked before offering the aged tomes.

"Is it obvious?" She replied, trying for levity. His smile was faint
but she saw it through the shadows of his cowl, heard it in his voice.

"I can think of few others who might find interest in such topics. The
quest for knowledge's of old has long dwindled." He stepped back then,
with a bow befitting her station. "I will continue my search."

She watched him depart and then took her sparse books to a table nearby,
her thoughts inevitably drawn to words uttered by Nagash; Your world
weakens daily through the thoughtless loss of knowledge.

Shaking her head, she tried to focus past it but could not resist the
urge to flex her left hand slowly against the table. The first book was
well aged, its pages dry but remarkably well kept. The dread-wolf was
obscure but not unheard of, even out at the far reaches of Arkania. The
book itself was written in ancient elven dialect, leading her to conclude
that the creature was everything from trickster to demon to vengeful
spirit. In some cases, a tale to scare errant children, in others, a
warning against indulging the fires of hate and despair, lest one be
consumed.

She was much less lucky in her search for Sha'katas, but she had
anticipated that. Nothing she read gave her further insight than what she
already knew. The link was there though, she was perfectly suited to
understand the sort of despair that might have drawn an exiled elf of
Shalonesti to seek retribution, by any means necessary.

She closed her books and left them on the table, not at All certain she
had learned anything particularly helpful but possessed now of deeper
curiosity on the subject of the wolf.

"If you should return later, Lady Kayen, I may have more on your
subjects of interest." The librarian's words caused her to pause and
she turned to nod her quiet appreciation before departing.




Writer: Karden

Date Sun May 7 16:27:14 2017




Writer: Kagetora

Date Sun May 7 16:51:32 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Sun May 7 17:32:26 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Sun May 7 17:34:24 2017




Writer: Vashilore

Date Sun May 7 20:46:04 2017




Writer: Gavriel

Date Mon May 8 18:18:21 2017

To All imm roleplay rp

Subject Backstory: The Training Exercise



It was supposed to be a simple training exercise.

The troop got split up into squads. The different squads would head out,
stake out a base, and treat other squads as enemy combatants to be either
"killed" or captured. They'd done this before. It was usually a good boost
for morale, and helped give an outlet for competitiveness among the men.

Gav and eight others got sectioned off into one group and assigned to a
squad leader, who ended up being the overall troop CO, Commander Blackburn.
After the last of these exercises, the squad who had been under Blackburn
ended up on mess duty for a week because they were the first taken out.
Since then, a nickname of "Big Baby Blackburn" had been circulating through
the men. Gavriel groaned inwardly, giving a glance around at the others
with him. Nobody looked too enthused.

They marched into the marshes near Darkfen, All carrying basic kit and arms,
with the substitution of wooden training blades instead of their usual
swords. After about a half day's march, the commander ordered the men to
set up camp. The site wasn't great, tactically, but it was one of the
larger pieces of dry land they'd come across. Gav guessed Blackburn didn't
want his feet getting wet.

Before they'd even got halfway through setting up, disaster struck.
Something came barreling through the site, big, hairy, and vicious, sending
several men flying before loping back into the mists. After a quick count,
Gav had something disturbing to report.

"Sir! Fuller's been taken, sir."

"Pack up, everyone, we need to find a new site. This one's compromised."

"Sir?"

"You heard me, Asher. Get moving!"

"But Fuller, sir, we can still track-"

"Forget Fuller! We are pulling out of here before that thing comes back.
Now pack up, that's an order!"

If Blackburn had said, "We're going to report back to Darkfen and organize a
rescue team," Gav would have been satisfied. If he'd said, "I don't want to
risk any more men," or even pointed out their lack of decent blades to use
against the beast, Gav would have at least accepted the reasons behind the
decision. But the look on the squad leader's face was one of fear, of
disregard for anyone's skin except his own. And there was no way Gavriel
was going to just "forget" Fuller.

His given name was James, but everyone called him "Jamie." He was the baby
of the troop, having joined the militia only recently. He'd been too young
to serve in the war, but he'd always looked up to those, like Gav, who had
been in it. He was green, lanky and awkward yet, but he had heart. He
deserved better than getting left behind by a coward.

Gavriel packed light and fast, leaving his tent behind but taking some extra
rations and medical supplies. Then he broke from the squad, heading in the
direction the creature had gone. He could hear Blackburn yelling at the
rest of the men as he left.




Writer: Gavriel
Date Mon May 8 18:30:51 2017

To All imm roleplay rp

Subject Backstory: Saving Private Fuller (1/2)



Gavriel wasn't an idiot. The fact that this thing had thrashed the
squad, sending it scattered among the half-set camp had not been overlooked.
But neither was the fact that it had been an ambush. This beast acted
alone, not in a pack, and it didn't stick around. It was strong enough that
a hit-and-run would work, but it didn't feel confident enough to take on a
squad in a prolonged effort. If Gav could track it down and get the drop on
it, he was pretty sure he could at least send it running.

Gavriel also wasn't a ranger, but you don't serve in the military and make
it out the other end of a war without having learned a thing or two. The
beast's size worked against it in this case. Wet, marshy ground, plus big
heavy thing carrying extra weight made for easy to follow tracks. It was
hard to say how long he'd been following when suddenly, not too far ahead,
Gav heard a scream of pain.

He pushed through the thicket, using his shield to block the thorns, and
emerged into a clearing. There was Fuller, lying on the ground, moaning.
The beast was nowhere in sight. Maybe it was off hunting again, maybe it
had heard Gav coming and ran off. Whatever the case, Jamie was here and
alive. Gavriel rushed over to his squad-mate, kneeling on the damp earth
beside him to assess his injuries. There were lacerations on his face, claw
marks, and his legs were bent at odd angles.

"Gav! It's you! Where's th'rest o'the squad?"

"They ain't comin', Jamie. Can you walk?"

"It broke my legs, Gav. Both of 'em! Then it ran off."

Something about All this didn't sit right. If the beast had been hungry, it
would've started eating. If it was startled, or had been spooked by Gav's
pursuit, it would've bolted. To break Fuller's legs, causing him to cry
out, and then leave him here...

This was a trap. And judging by the widening of Fuller's eyes, it was about
to snap shut.




Writer: Gavriel
Date Mon May 8 18:42:03 2017

To All imm roleplay rp

Subject Backstory: Saving Private Fuller (2/2)



Gav threw himself flat, covering Jamie's body with his own. He felt the
beast pass overhead, its claws shredding through the pack on his back. The
damned thing had nearly ambushed him a second time in the same day. This
thing was more than smart, it was cruel. Gav would have no reservations
about putting it down.

He slipped the ruined pack from his shoulders as he stood, and drew the
wooden training sword at his side. It was a pathetic weapon, but it was
something.

The beast was hunched, standing on two legs. Covered in long, dirty hair
with vaguely canine features, it looked to Gav like what he imagined a
werewolf would look like, but he'd never seen one of those before and as far
as he knew they'd never been spotted in this part of the world. Maybe it
was some furred variant on a marsh troll. Whatever it was, it was wary,
circling opposite Gav as both sought an opening.

"Patience, Gav," he muttered to himself. Smart or not, this creature had
meant to take him by surprise. It was built for speed and stealth, and even
though it was big, so was Gavriel. He wasn't the tallest in his troop, but
he was a good head taller than anybody in his current squad, and his
breadth, long arms, and muscle usually made up for any height he lacked.
This beast relied on fear, and Gav wasn't showing any as he kept himself
positioned between it and Fuller.

Finally the hairy thing lunged. Gav side-stepped, blocking one swipe with
his shield and swinging his weapon at its head. The resounding crack echoed
in the clearing, and the beast staggered to the side, but the noise had come
from the wood of Gavriel's sword snapping. So maybe it wasn't something.
Gav tossed the handle aside and, desperate, pulled his camp knife. It would
be sturdier, but it lacked any real reach.

Gavriel pressed the attack, throwing a punch with his shield-arm that caught
the beast on the same side as the sword had hit, this time with the edge of
his metal shield. It howled and lashed out blind, catching Gav in the chest
with a backhand that knocked the man back a step. Gavriel let out a growl
of his own, springing forward at the monster, shield set to block its claws
as he brought his knife down into the top of its skull.

The thrashing and screeching were terrible, and blood ran from both the head
wound and its mouth and nose. But there was no coming back from that. Gav
left the knife. He didn't trust the thing's blood.

By this point Fuller was shivering, looking pale. Gav knelt down next to
him again, grabbed hold, and lifted the smaller man up and over his
shoulder. Fuller couldn't walk or crawl in his condition.

So Gav would have to carry him.




Writer: Gavriel
Date Mon May 8 20:25:53 2017

To All imm roleplay rp

Subject Backstory: The "Dressing-Down" (1/2)



Gavriel didn't bother trying to find the rest of his squad. Chances were
good they were still on the move, but even if not he'd be wasting time
trying to track them to their new base camp, and Fuller needed help as soon
as possible. Instead, Gav made his way directly back to Darkfen, praying
even then that he'd make it in time as Fuller passed in and out of
consciousness on his shoulder.

So he was surprised to see the rest of his squad already back. Cameron and
Jacobson saw him first and ran over to help get Fuller to a cot, while
Hillman ran to fetch the local Siccaran healer. It was Douglas who filled
Gav in on what happened after he left.

"Big Baby Blackburn got 'is trousers in a twist when you left. Said
something about not bein' able to defend the camp and still take down the
other squads with us bein' down two men, so he ordered us to just head
home."

"No talk about a search an' rescue?"

"Not a word, Gav. Don't think he expected either of you to make it back."

"Asher!" Blackburn's voice carried, starting off low but rising in pitch by
the end of Gav's name, whether out of surprise or fear. The commander
cleared his throat, then ordered, "My office, now!"

"You disobeyed my orders, Asher." Inside, the commander was furious and was
relying on his rank to intimidate the much larger man. Gav wasn't about to
get flustered, he'd been expecting something to be said.

"Yessir."

"You broke orders, broke ranks, and abandoned your squad."

"No, sir."

"Are you correcting me, Asher? You are on dangerous ground already,
soldier."

"Permission t'speak freely, sir?"

"Denied. There is nothing you've got to say that I want to hear. Your
reckless behavior could have cost somebody their life."

"Sir..."

"Quiet! You have a real problem with authority, you know that? Ten lashes,
Asher. For insubordination."




Writer: Gavriel
Date Mon May 8 20:43:58 2017

To All imm roleplay rp

Subject Backstory: The "Dressing-Down" (2/2)



Gavriel was stunned. In his state of slack-jawed disbelief over the
situation, he was lead out into the commons, his leather jack and undershirt
stripped, and his wrists bound to the triangle, a wooden tripod of beams
that served as the whipping post. It hadn't been used since the war, but
was kept around as a reminder of what could happen to deserters who were
caught. After tying his wrists, Haward slipped Gav a small piece of thick
leather, placing it between his teeth with a grimace of sympathy.

Blackburn ordered Sadler to do the deed, not wanting to sully his own hands.
Sadler was the biggest man in the squad, apart from Gav. Gavriel could tell
Sadler was none too pleased with the situation himself... But he'd been
given orders.

Gavriel felt the sting of the cat-o-nine-tails, but it was light. Sadler
was pulling the strikes, he could tell. After the sixth swing, so could
Blackburn. The commander roared in disapproval and rage, tearing the
implement from Sadler's hands and bringing it to bear on Gavriel's back
himself. Gav was suddenly very grateful for the leather as he bit down in
pain.

The others were stunned now, shocked by the commander's actions and rage.
No one moved until the count was well past ten, but then they All moved as
one, piling on Blackburn and pulling him away from the post despite his
shouts, threatening punishments between fits of incoherence.

Gavriel took a bit to regain his senses, scattered from the flogging. Once
he'd collected enough of his wits he yanked down on the ropes, breaking the
wooden beam of the triangle and freeing himself. He picked up his shirt and
jack, spitting out the leather from between his teeth. Then, he advanced on
Blackburn, who suddenly sobered into silence at sight of the looming, angry
visage of the man he'd just beaten. If the yelling from Blackburn had been
scary, Gavriel's silence was terrifying.

There was the sound of cloth ripping, and then something landed at the
commander's feet: the shoulder patch that had marked Gavriel as a member of
the Darkfen Militia. There were no words. There was no violent fury, no
retribution.

Gav simply left, following the roads East to the capital.




Writer: Kyrlynn
Date Mon May 8 23:50:58 2017

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Zandreya Tashio Immortal ( roleplay )

Subject Seeking Answers: The trip.



Her pack was almost ready. She had packed lightly despite being
uncertain how much they'd need or how long they would be gone. After
shoving the last few items into the pack, she gathered it up and looked
around the room, her eyes lingering on paintings of her family over the
years.

At that moment her age showed a bit in her eyes and expression, a raw
tiredness showing in both. She turned and stepped out of her home and
prayed for her return to the forest and the groves. There was no time for
such things so she shook it off and went to find the Senator.

Uruvion was finishing packing his things when she found him at the pool. He
handed her the book to store in her pack. She was less prone to burning
things as he was. The two of them gathered up what they needed and headed
off through the portals to Tropica.

The port was loud and busy as always though perhaps not as busy as some
others. The port master was busy directing passenger and crew members onto
the ships while others milled about either selling goods or waiting.

The two of them agreed it was best that they stick together for the moment
so they kept close as they stopped various dock workers and asked them about
the man they were seeking. They got a few strange looks, others just seemed
clueless and a small few averted their gazes and walked away. None of them
knew where to find the man or at least were willing to share.

Suddenly Kyrlynn felt someone grab her arm and motion for her to follow.
She alerted Uruvion and together the two of them followed the hooded figure
a few paces away from the port. They both eyed the figure suspiciously as
the figure pushed back its hood, revealing the face of an old woman. She
looked as though she had seen much in her life, her arms, hands and face all
riddled with scars and markings.

'You seek Amaron, yes? ' They both nodded and the old woman stroked her
chin thoughtfully. 'You will not find many willing to give you the answers
that you seek. ' She then looked at each of them in turn, her gaze
lingering on Uruvion a bit longer. 'I recognize ones whom have witnessed
the dread-wolf and seen what it is capable of. I will tell you. ' They
both listened as she explained the man they sought was deep within the
jungle and that the path would not be an easy one. She gave them little
directions and said they would be on their own in the searching once inside
the jungle.

Kyrlynn pulled out a map, marking some of the instructions and pointing out
some things to Uruvion. They had both only looked away for a few seconds at
most but when they looked back up, the woman was gone completely. There was
not even a sign that she had ever been there.




Writer: Kyrlynn

Date Tue May 9 21:42:55 2017

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Zandreya Tashio Immortal ( Roleplay )

Subject Seeking Answers: The trip through the jungle



The jungle was hot and unforgiving, the air heavy with moisture and
vegetation thick. They had found their way to the jungle easy enough with
the directions they were given but as the old woman had said... They were
now on their own. They would just have to search the jungle till they found
the man. Kyrlynn wiped at the sweat on her brow and looked around. The
deeper they headed into the jungle, the darker the path got and the thicker
the air did as well.

Someone was watching them or possibly multiple someones. She had sensed
them at times and felt the eerie feeling of being watched but she had yet to
catch a glimpse of anyone. All around them the jungle was a live.
Mosquitos buzzed about, they would be itching later, and other wildlife
lurked about. Kyrlynn used her bladed staff to clear away some of the
vegetation as they moved, trying to make the path a bit more maneuverable
and also to help them know where they had been.

After hours of walking they stopped at a downed tree. It was obvious that
it been there for years as the vegetation had long since started to grow
over it, leaving only parts of it still visible. They stopped and pulled
out their decanters, taking long needed drinks due to the heat. She pulled
out a small pack and unfolded it, revealing a small assortment of finger
foods, a few hunks of bread, some meats and cheeses as well as fruit. They
ate in silence for the most part, both staring at the map that the Senator
had laid out while the protector had laid out the food.

It was a crude map, not really giving much detail other than the girth of
the jungle but it was helpful at least because as far as they had been told
they needed to be headed towards the center. Kyrlynn scribbled some notes,
tracing the path they had covered as she munched on some fruit. As they
finished their meal, the gathered up the items once more and stowed them
away. The monk took another long drink from her decanter and as she did she
heard a faint snap of a twig or branch in the nearby brush.

They two of them glanced at each other, both gripping their staffs and
looking around. At that moment something in the brush took off running in
the direction that they had been headed. The figure looked to small to be
an adult but it also did not seem to be an animal either. Both elves nodded
and ran after, following the figure as best they could through the heavy
vegetation. It was no surprise when Kyrlynn stumbled, her foot getting
caught in the thick vines that covered the ground in places. She grunted in
pain and annoyance as she tumbled forward, curling into a ball and ending in
a crouch.

She gasped to catch her breath, her right hand going to the still healing
gashes on her side and pressing against them. As her eyes refocused she
realized two things: 1. That someone was standing in front of her and 2.
The Senator had arrived and was right beside her. She tilted her head back
and peered up at a man who looked like he had seen better days. She pushed
herself to her feet slowly, using her staff for balance as she regained
hers, and looked at the old man.

The old man leveled his gaze on the monk for only a few moments before
swiveling his focus on Uruvion. He stared at the Senator for several long
wordless moments. When he finally did speak he simply uttered the word,
'dread wolf' and turned, motioning for the two of them to follow him. The
two of them each cast a glance in the other's direction before nodding and
following in silence.




Writer: Galira

Date Thu May 11 10:31:39 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Thu May 11 13:30:31 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Thu May 11 13:33:04 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Thu May 11 13:35:45 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Thu May 11 13:38:04 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Thu May 11 13:41:17 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Thu May 11 13:43:34 2017




Writer: Uruvion

Date Thu May 11 22:18:26 2017

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Tashio IMM All ( Rp Religion Zandreya )

Subject Seeking Answers - First Things First



Miserable, beyond miserable. The trek through the thick vegetation and
sweltering humidity of the jungle may not have been god awful if they
weren't so tired. The trees and flora grew thicker as they followed the old
man who seemed a bit spritely despite his looks. A staff in his hands and
seeming quite acclimated to the surroundings.

Uruvion noticed the jungle was growing darker, seeing the canopy above
getting closer, branches interlocking with other branches, the leaves
seeming to become one lush green towel soaking in the rays of the sun. It
was an hour or so, but felt like another day before the two elves and the
old man came to a break in the trees and into a clearing.

A fire was burning in a stone circle in the middle and off to the northwest
of the clearing was a hut. Uruvion glanced at Kyrlynn and she back to him
like they have a few times during their trip then turned their attentions to
the old man.

The old man brushed some gray dread-locked hair behind his ear, revealing
himself to be elven. He looked deeply tanned and had some strange markings
on his face now the two others finally were able to not just look at his
backside. The markings were on his hands that seemed to disappear into a
shirt made of some kind of animal leather. His pants made of the same. On
his feet, nothing, but the same kind of markings, almost making it look like
he had a black pair of slippers on with designs being the unmarked flesh.
Around his neck were various necklaces and pendants. Animal teeth, claws,
hand-fashioned trinkets, and who knows what else All attached to their own
leather cords.

He looked the Senator and Protector over with a critical gaze, his black
eyes shimmering and scrutinizing. "Way over dressed for a small trip. " He
made notice of Uruvion's duster and let out a bellow of a laugh filling the
space of the open area and night sky. "Come and sit by the fire! I'm
Amaron Orinala, and we All know why you're here.
" The word we caught the
elves from the Vallens with a bit of surprise as other elves, seemed to
phase in around the clearing and some gathered around the fire.

Two thuds hit the ground as their packs were dropped then they both settled
by the fire, weariness evident on their faces. Amaron swept some wayward
dreads back off his shoulder and sat across from them, giving each a gently
and genuine sympathetic smile. His voice became hushed as his black eyes
reflected the fire's light, "Dread-wolf. You have both survived it. Others
will know of it.
" His eyes darted back and forth between the two elves
across from him. The old elf's voice got louder as if speaking to all
gathered and perhaps something hiding. "It can be beaten! You just have to
know! Let go, be at peace with yourself!
" He locked his eyes on Uruvion,
"But it has grown in strength, it's come for you, her, and it will come for
others who are close and around you. It wants you weak and vunerable. Why?
"

Uruvion slipped his duster off and let it sit behind his back, his steel
gray eye meeting Amaron's own set, "There's a demon, ancient vampire who
waits in the shadows of the Vallens. It knows the Song and is angrier than
a thousand dark elves..
"

The elf sitting across the fire lifted a finger to stop Uruvion from
speaking. The eldritch glanced at his monk friend then furrowed his brow in
curiousness at the old elf. "Ah. I see now. Weaken one with the aid of
another and as vampires do, steal the soul and use what's left, body, mind,
powers.
"

Uruvion nodded, "It tried that but others helped keep it from doing so. It
escaped and then the dread-wolf blocked us from getting to it.
"

Amaron tapped his chin with one hand and twirled a dread between his fingers
with the other. "Very well my new friends, first, you will sleep. We will
watch over you both, then tomorrow we begin.
"





Writer: Uruvion

Date Thu May 11 23:11:43 2017

To Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Tashio IMM All ( Rp Religion Zandreya )

Subject Seeking Answers - Wakey Wakey..



Amaron knelt by the eldritch who was laying on his sleeping pad by the
fire, but something was off, there was no night sky, no irritating humidty,
the elves that sat in quiet vigil were there but it seemed empty. He was
dreaming. "You're both safe, we have watched you. " The old leather clad
elf gave Uruvion a pat on the arm then seemed to disappear.

A plate of eggs and some meat were shoved in his face as he sat up, behind
that plate with a very large and happy smile was Amaron. "Morning! "

Uruvion scooted back in some bewildered surprise, trying to make sense of
what was happening as he woke from the deep sleep he hadn't had for quite
some time. He looked around and saw Kyrlynn talking with another elf,
sitting and eating with a cup of coffee at her side. "Morning, Amaron. "
He took the plate with gratitude and wolfed down the breakfast and
delightedly drank the coffee.

Amaron sat himself down directly in front of Uruvion. "You know it uses
your fears to torment?
" the eldritch nodded. "You know what happens in
your dreams, the clawing, your eye, comes to the waking world?
" Uruvion
pointed at Kyrlynn's side, then lifted his shirt and revealed the scar on
across his stomach and unwrapped the bandages around his head, showing him
where his right eye had been. Amaron grimaced, "Oh that's just nasty. "
The old elf called for another then produced an eye-patch made of tanned
black leather and handed it to Uruvion with a sympathetic smile.

Uruvion put the eye-patch and nodded in thanks. Amaron leaned over and
straightened the new atire then nodded his head in approval. "Your sister
was sick, it wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could do. Your
parents.. They died fighting to protect you. You though--need to know that
you're surrounded by others who will help you, fight with you, and you have
to not be afraid of what you can do. She found you worthy. Embrace it.
"


Kyrlynn was watching and listening, Uruvion hadn't said a word but looked at
Amaron with an intesne wonderment. "You and the others like you, the
eldritch are Her wrath. The protection of the Vallens against Chaos and
those who would harm Her lands. Embrace it, be Her wrath. Show this
dread-wolf you're not afraid. Show the others to be not afraid. The elf
from the Dark City is right. One very pissed off Dark Elf will use you and
any other it can to bring the Vallens down.
"

Amaron gave Uruvion a few long moments to let it All sink in, comprehend
what was being told to him. "What do we do? " Before an answer was given
Uruvion asked another question, "And how do you know All of this? "

Amaron gave a light shrug of a shoulder, glancing up at Kyrlynn then setting
his sights back to the elf across from him, "Just like the dread-wolf, I
walked around in your dreams. Dreams are feelings in another plane. Some
are happy, some are sad, then the nightmares. We All have nightmares, but
the key to remember is over come, embrace, dominate. That's what she said.
Nymaya, and she's right.
"

"How do we beat it? " He wanted an answer desperately, Uruvion looked to
Amaron with what seemed a new found fire in his--gray eye.

Amaron sighed and looked at Uruvion with a gentle gaze. "It's growing in
strength, it will come after you still, like I said earlier, it will come
for the others. Tell them to be strong and you All will know when the time
is right.
"

It wasn't what he wanted to hear but it was an answer of some sort. What he
hadn't noticed was the sun was down again, the fire was burning. Kyrlynn
and him would go home the next morning. He hoped to sleep as well as they
had the night before.




Writer: Benthic

Date Thu May 11 23:52:08 2017




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Date Fri May 12 23:21:14 2017




Writer: Mercerion
Date Sat May 13 00:36:16 2017

To All Immortal Equinox

Subject Demons of Sin: Aftermath I: Wrath is My Sin.



Darkness... Despair... Wrath...

Emotions flooded Mercerion as he closed his eyes, drawn once again to the
hell he was brought to witness as he was carried from Algoron directly into
the domain of these Sin aspects.

Wrath... Hatred... Darkness...

The emotions continued to roil inside him, as if they were designed to churn
his very being from the inside out as he looked, stunned at the scene before
him.

A banquet table, quite possibly the size of Althainia city proper... And
all of the souls that were taken were upon it.

There wasn't time... He couldn't possibly save them all, and why a table?
Were they...

Fear... Loathing... Disgust... Wrath

Like a constant whisper, just on the edge of his consciouness, Mercerion
felt the drumming of the emotions as it came into his mind what was
happening. The people whom were taken by these creatures were being wholely
consumed, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was brought here
for a purpose.

Desperation... Frustration... Wrath

He searched as swiftly as he could through the people upon the table,
acutely aware of the celestial being that brought him here's urging to move
and find Her, that he portal could not be held open long.

Wrath... Frustration... Hope


There, not far from him now, was the telltale blue of the priests of
Nadrik's church. She was on the "floor" and unconscious, and just as
Mercerion approached, he sensed the angry hiss of an entity.

She issss Mine!

Wrath... Zeal... Valor... Hatred

Now was the line... He couldn't possibly fight them all, and if he tried
to, they'd both be stuck here, but surely as a holy warrior, he could do
some damage, yes?

Do not linger!

Frustration... Wrath... Salvation

Mercerion wanted almost nothing more than to put this sloth creature to
rest, but remembering his previous ineffectiveness, he decided to grab
Aliera and make his escape, angering the beast greatly, and doing nothing
for the seed of Wrath that festered deep inside Mercerion, threatening to
overcome his compassion.

As they descended back to Algoron in th care of the Celestial, Mercerion
reached for his holy symbol, reciting one of his Mantra from his past as a
holy warrior.

Emotions, yet Peace.




Writer: Karden

Date Sat May 13 12:39:02 2017




Writer: Karden

Date Sat May 13 12:40:46 2017




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Date Sat May 13 12:43:11 2017




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Date Sat May 13 12:44:51 2017




Writer: Zola

Date Sun May 14 00:14:02 2017




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Date Sun May 14 03:49:19 2017




Writer: Ayrora
Date Sun May 14 08:30:28 2017

To All Immortal Roleplay Storyline

Subject Time



Ayrora was out yet again wrangling up the llamas and ostriches with the
herders. Time was definately working against her since she had returned
from her long trip to Rashburne. It was quite beautiful there and by far
one of her favorite places to visit. She needed some time to collect her
thoughts and reflect on All that had happened and was happening in her life.

They got the last of the herds into the pens and with a satisfied nod the
herders returned to there normal jobs. Rora sat looking at the herds as
Braedan impatiently stomped the ground. She rubbed the stallions neck to
calm him and spoke soft words as he calmed a bit.

She must make sure that her father wouldn't release the animals again before
they end up at the swamps and are eaten by the alligators. She turned
Braedan and headed towards the barn. He deserved to be pampered after all
and that is exactly what she did.





Writer: Corron
Date Sun May 14 14:43:05 2017




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Date Sun May 14 19:18:36 2017




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Date Sun May 14 19:31:02 2017




Writer: Benthic
Date Mon May 15 02:06:32 2017

To All Zola ( IMM RP RELIGION FATALE )

Subject Freedom



Benthic awoke, in the same place he normally was. Yet after a moment, a
chill overtook the Garden of Death. Benthic prepared himself, daggers at
the ready.... Yet it was not needed. I hid the daggers and in a moments
notice, a tall and lanky figure stepped out from behind a tree. He seemed
to appear from nowhere.

Benthic swept a graceful bow as he normally does... In that instant the
figure had covered the distance. The figure loomed greatly over Benthic.
In shock and the figure simply stating, "Benthic" he attempted to step back,
yet was frozen where he stood.

After little talk, the oni masked figure reached out a slender firnger to
place upon Benthic's forehead. In an instant... The curse was removed from
Benthic and he was reborn of Fatale.

Caution, was spoken by the figure, "This is the last time you will be
graced. Should faulter in your faith, I will return and it will not be to
bring you kindness, your life... Shall join my collection.
"

a simple whisper from Benthic " My life is forever Fatale's. I know my
place now.
"

The Figure stated, "Fatale shall be pleased by your oath, recall it and know
it forever and forever know his bounty.
"

Before Benthic could state or conjure words, the oni masked demon made a
graceful bow and disappeared.

A curse broken, a new chapter writing... Shakles broken and weights lifted.


True freedom granted... Something All should fear from such a man.




Writer: Fardoc

Date Mon May 15 04:05:59 2017

To All Thaxanos Nadrik Religion Storyline Imm RP

Subject A Lesson in Humility - The Beginning



"It is our Lord that we owe everything to, but we must remember that in
His time here on Algoron, he wore no special armor, nor proclaimed loudly
who he was. He trusted in His deeds to speak for Him and was concerned only
with doing what was right.
"

The words of his friar rang in Fardocs mind, and he felt a pang in his chest
recalling the friar pointing out what was likely the priests largest flaw.
The friar had been present in the Temple of Nadrik only a few weeks, but it
seemed as if he knew the Cardinal quite well already. Fardoc was a resolute
dwarf of deep faith and conviction, but it was often he placed too much
faith, too much pride, in his abilities.

To have the young friar remind him so gently to keep humility in the
forefront of his mind was, wellhumbling. Fardoc reflected for several hours
upon the friars words before he resolved what he had to do.

The Cardinal glanced down towards his robes, many pieces stitched with rare
firstborne sheddings, and the various other accoutrements he had acquired
over the long years. It was true. He placed great stock in his abilities,
his titles, and his armor, as many dwarves did. It was difficult to set the
trappings aside, but for the priest to recall his place in the grand scheme,
it was necessary. Fardoc took off his various armors and placed them within
his home, weaving for himself robes of coarse wool and taking only a simple
walking staff, the holy symbol of Nadrik, and a ball of light to illuminate
his way.

Steeling himself for the long journeys ahead, the dwarf vowed to spend as
little time in the Temple as possible over the coming weeks, ministering far
and wide to those who might not ordinarily hear the Lords word. He would
meander between cities according to those awake, hoping to draw out those
interested in speaking, and perhaps, gods willing, persuade them away from
the faiths of ruin and onto the path of Goodness, Light, and Honor.

Fardoc settled his gaze southwest, towards the swamps of Abaddon. He knew
where he had to venture first.




Writer: Vashilore
Date Mon May 15 16:15:51 2017




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Writer: Nymaya
Date Mon May 15 21:59:57 2017

To All Verminasia Crelius ( Imm RP )

Subject Falling



She sat in the darkness of her empty bedroom, her head held in her hands,
and listened to the haunting strains of the music box. It resonated like a
tremor inside her, shaking her down to the very core before joining the
Haunt, to become something else.

For as shaken and severed as she was in that moment though, there was also a
sense of ease.

She had been given a not-so-subtle reminder of the thread she had set on the
tapestry of Algoron - or below it, more accurately - and had no desire to
lessen that sacrifice with undue regret or fear.

She couldn't quite slow her heartbeat though so she did what she had not
done in years for the second time in as many days. She sat up, centered
herself on the edge of the bed and let her control loose. Revisiting the
Haunt, or the breath of what lingered within her, was not easy. It had been
thoroughly blackened and left what could only be described as an oily
sensation behind as she focused on its singular harmony. She never came
back from it the same.

The screams were there, beneath it, a whisper at the edge. The family she
had set ablaze to kill an assassin that had taken a Kyorl life. The gray
eyes, from which she had stolen life. The green eyes that had shaped her.
The brown eyes that had loved and left her. The fiends numbering beyond
count in Necrucifer's realm.

She fell again below the still surface and into pandemonium.

Nymaya..

The sound of her name slipped through her, threading a path to the soul, and
gripped tight - unrelenting and possessive. It would not relinquish her to
the oblivion of the current she sought and she was drawn back, out of the
depths.

She regained her senses with an enraged cry of frustration that rang through
the room and would have stood but for the breath that whispered past her ear
and the soft, throaty chuckle of amusement that followed.

The darkness shifted, flexing in the room and cold tendrils drifted over her
flesh before the emptiness returned. Alone again, she lifted her fingers to
brush over the cut stretching along the side of her face, and let the
solitude sink in as she dropped her head back into her hands.




Writer: Erebaal
Date Mon May 15 23:18:40 2017

To All ( Marauders Chaos Telthian Aeriset Raije Immortal Religion Storyline Scorn Malachive)

Subject Blood for Blood



The smoke from the pyre rose.

Even so far as the mountains, the glare of the blaze in Hammurabi Square
reached the unhelmeted visage of the warrior of nightmare, clad in the
monstrous raiment of a butcher. Dark eyes watched, unblinking, as the
funeral rites were conducted for the fallen, a soul consigned to what they
had surmised to be a warrior's heaven. The Everchosen's lip curled, clawed
gauntlet scratching at the helmet that he clutched. Another failure,
condemned to hell.

The Everchosen of Chaos, the enigmatic monster, watched as another one of
his agents burned, broken shell commemorated by those who would never
understand her true purpose. The plan had been meticulous, had been
far-reaching, and would have reaped a grand harvest of lives to feed his
nascent divinity. A legion of fools, marching gladly to their deaths. Now
that plan was dashed, ruined by the meddling of a newly-crowned King in the
north. A powerful priest of Darkness, a Cardinal. The antithesis to all
that he stood for.

Another all-too-human part of him raged, seething beneath the surface of his
dour demeanor. No matter how corrupt his soul, no matter how far he had
fallen into the power of Chaos, it seemed some things simply could not be
expunged. This part of him watched as his daughter burned, broken shell
commemorated by those who would never understand her true heritage. There
was no lie to her tale, when she had approached him before. She was the
daughter of Korsen Arnason, the name worn by a man who would succumb to
madness and take on a new moniker; the Word Bearer, Erebaal. He stood
poised to exalt her as their grand betrayal spurned the heavens and the
earth and bathed both in blood. Now that chance was denied him, stolen from
him by a creature that held the Gods' own favor. The archenemy that he now
could identify.

The man and the monster did not struggle for dominance within the armored
form of the Everchosen, but stood in furious agreement. For this, there
would be a reckoning. For the plans dashed, for the family slain, there
would be vengeance. Blood for blood, the ancient law of the land, would not
suffice. For this offense against him, a man who had already given
everything once and lost the last thing he never knew he had, only
destruction could satisfy his hatred.

Telthian Schwartz. King-Priest. Murderer. Enemy. A growl rumbled from
the back of the Everchosen's throat as he turned his back on the sight far
below, replacing his helm and burying any vestige of his humanity beneath
the guise of the monster the world had come to recognize. The day of
reckoning was still some time away, but it would only serve to hone his
fury. When it cut, it would sever All things tying the Cardinal to the
world.

When he died in agony, it would be by his hands. Only then would he be
satisfied. Only then could he quiet the maddening human rage that clouded
his sight. Only then could he continue the path laid before him.

Only then could he be free.




Writer: Mercerion
Date Mon May 15 23:42:32 2017

To All Equinox Immortal Religion Knighthood

Subject Demons of Sin: Aftermath II: Pride was my failing.



Mercerion sat aboard the Sovereign, looking out over the bow of the ship
as it was moored not far from the port of the Golden City. A sigh passed
his lips as he reflected on the previous threat to the entire world. One
that had been enough to move him to work with the knights of Storm keep in
order to keep Algoron safe.

In All his years, Mercerion had seen some grave threats to Algoron, but only
one had he ever imagined would be polarizing enough to see Gareth and Storm
work collaboratively to keep Algoron safe. That threat was the Warp, not
Nagash and his grand schemes.

It bothered the General that Storm knew more about this situation than they
freely shared until it became completely necessary. Even more so, that he
had to ask to find out what had happened to the device used to seal the
demons away. It wasn't ignorance, if the information was withheld, but
knowledge of these things goes a lot farther than reacting once the problem
is in motion.

He descended the gangplank onto the shore and made way towards the Golden
City's forum square. He would need to meet soon with the Emperor and
discuss his resignation. Long had he served within the shogunate, but it
was time to answer the call once again. The call that throughout the course
of these demons, had re-awoken in him as a blaze rekindled by a gust of
wind, and a bit of fuel.

LaFortinas. The name struck at Mercerion's conscience. That warrior of the
past could kill these things, or so it was said. His virtue was as such
that his blade meant death to these aspects. It was foolish, even prideful
to believe that if He were still a paladin when these creatures came, that
it would have made a difference... But he would never have to ask that
question again.

As he entered the forum square, he held to his holy symbol, whispering one
of his mantras:

There is no Ignorance, There is Knowledge.




Writer: Telthian

Date Tue May 16 08:21:58 2017

To All Verminasia Shadow Ashtiel Crelius Nymaya Equinox Storyline

Subject Claws in the Dark (IX)


INHALE.

Enough time had now passed that he was certain of it. So much had happened
in such a short time. The whispers in the darkness of Storm Keep. The
frost. The scraping. The claws in the dark.

The writing of his name: N A G A S H.

EXHALE.

The sequence of events leading from the apparitions to the recovery of that
damned chest and the eventual release of Ecylm played out in his mind again.
The few who were there were marked. They were his brothers in a sense but
they did not return. They were unable or unwilling to do what must be done.
Anger seethed beneath the surface before it was subdued.

HOLD.

Despite that many still focused on the Aspects, what they were, why they
came, what they wantedthe most important question still lingered: why? Why
now?

The payment bothered him. Ate away at his controlled demeanor. He risked
everything because it must be done. There was no gratitude, just childish
petulance from the Knights. In the weeks since, not a word came. His own
rebuffed or ignored.

HOLD. EVEN AS YOUR LUNGS SCREAM. HOLD.

Their concerns were pressing. Once before he had felt like a cornered
beast, but this was worse. The sense of foreboding gnawed at him, but he
pushed back at it daily. They needed to understand their enemy. Determine
his purpose. Find some leverage. Slip the collar from about their necks.

Let the blackness press in on the edge of sight. Let it swallow the mind.

The Sins. The Marauder Highlord and her bloody book. The crown. The
demon. The Warp. The ghostly child. And above them all, the Arch-Lich.
That calculating visage haunted him.

So much had happened in such a short time. Tensions were felt within the
circle, but it could be managed. They All agreed it would need to widen and
it was still unclear what the path ahead would reveal.

Fight for just another second. Press beyond that threshold of pain and
nausea and take the moment that comes. And the next. And the next. And
the next. Until the last moment is spent and no more will come.

Falling backward the priest sprawled across the floor. Chest heaving as he
coughed, the precious gups of air burnt within his lungs as his vision began
to clear. They were at the center of the Arch-Lichs grim design and though
he could only see a piece of it, they had time.

Her soft, melodious voice drew his awareness back out from the dark reverie.
His head rolled back on the hard stone floor, eyes searching for its source
until he found that improbable woman cast in sihlouette. His wife.

They had time.




Writer: Nymaya

Date Tue May 16 14:27:25 2017

To All Verminasia Ashtiel Telthian Crelius Equinox Storyline

Subject Morning Musings



The child ran through her dreams, a pale shimmer in the encompassing
darkness; Her need poignant, her giggle promising, her smile infectious, her
sorrow and rage deep.

It struck every cord in Nymaya's body and the desire to feel the child in
her arms, the little fingers twirling her hair or touching her face, was
powerful. She was alarmed at how much she needed the child, at how complete
it had made her feel to help the girl and that, in and of itself, brought
her suspicions fully forward.

You always find me!

The whisper echoed as if it had instead been shouted into a canyon and she
woke to the heavy murk of a gray day and an ache in her head that would not
let up.

She conceded that she missed the child as she went through her morning
ablutions, finding some relief in the heat of the water. The trust, the
innocence, the concern.

How come you look so sad?

She lowered her head beneath the water and closed her eyes, aware of the
sting along her cheek as the water passed over it, and tried to consider how
best to approach her pain, her frustration.

I'll come visit again. I can't wait to see you smile. I know you will
again.

'You can't go back. You might as well go forward. ' She uttered to the
memory playing out, her words lost in the rush of the water and the steam
that arose around her bowed shoulders. She had even less to smile about
now, which made her wonder what the child must have been alluding to during
their first encounter.

It had been wise, she decided, that she'd been kept away from the third
visitation and she brushed her hands back over her hair. If there was
something more sinister lurking behind it all, she knew it was only a matter
of time until it revealed itself. That ominous musing brought her attention
around to the stub of her pinky and she stared at it for several long
moments before finally setting the matter aside. If nothing else, she had
been made aware of the potential and could better predict what she may need
to be prepared for. The best she could do right now was find a moment's
peace in routine.




Writer: Aelaer'mes

Date Tue May 16 21:34:30 2017




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Wed May 17 12:16:23 2017




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Wed May 17 12:22:11 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Wed May 17 14:02:13 2017




Writer: Corron

Date Wed May 17 14:04:26 2017




Writer: Corron
Date Wed May 17 14:06:27 2017




Writer: Corron
Date Wed May 17 14:08:32 2017




Writer: Corron
Date Wed May 17 14:10:28 2017




Writer: Corron
Date Wed May 17 14:12:31 2017




Writer: Corron
Date Wed May 17 14:14:22 2017




Writer: Mercerion
Date Wed May 17 15:34:34 2017

To Nadrik Immortal Knighthood All Equinox Storyline

Subject Demons of Sin: Aftermath III: Sloth was my path



The streets along the golden city were bustling these days. It had been
a very long time since Mercerion had seen so much activity here. The
markets were flourishing, and the homogenous empire had grown vastly in
wealth, since it opened its arts and training to the rest of Algoron.

Of All the people, Mercerion had likely benefited most from this. As a
child he was raised here, but never given the martial training of the Golden
City, because of his outland heritage. Now, as he walked out of the city,
no longer within the lacquered plate, he felt a kinship to the people here
once again. True, he had renounced his commission into the shogunate, but
he would not forget the bushido code that was share with him, nor the trust
the Emperor had put in his abilities to defend the Empire and Algoron as a
whole.

He looked down at his acolyte robes, and remembered the words of the friar
within the Temple. "Take the word to those outside of our own. See to
those whom have lost" Mercerion smiled to himself as the second phase of his
plan was about to begin and reached out to an old friend.

Good King, I have a favor to ask of you.

Oh? And what might I do for you, General?

I will be returning to Gareth shortly, but in that time, I would like to do
some missionary work in your city. Would you allow such
?

I would have no problem with it. You are welcome in my home.

And with that, Mercerion made for the coast to get on the ship to Arkane.
He would be spending much of the next several days tending to those whom had
lost loved ones during the engagents with the aspects of Sin.

--------------------------------------

Throughout his time within the kingdom of Arkane, Mercerion met with many
families, regardless of faith or creed whom had lost loved ones. He offered
blessings of consolement and comfort, while working to ease desires of
revenge.

Nadrik's work would linger in Arkane for a while, he had hoped. It was time
for him to return to the keep however, and he thanked those whom had met
with him, and allowed him to work with them while he was there.

As the wards were renewed to allow him entrance to Gareth Keep, Mercerion
stepped out of the gates of Arkane with a short phrase to the Guard Captain,


Passion, Yet Serenity.




Writer: Rumptin

Date Wed May 17 19:30:37 2017




Writer: Vadol

Date Wed May 17 23:25:44 2017

To Verminasia Telthian All ( Immortal Storyline )

Subject Departure



The glowing sigil on the dilapidated door flared bright before it burnt
away, the door swinging open to admit the slender elf as he ducked into the
hovel off of the alleyway. The dingy room was scattered with notes and
etchings, a map on the far wall covered in scribblings and notations. A
long-forgotten alembic still churned with some long-forgotten, viscous
liquid. All of these things were catalogued in an instant by the former
Herald of Verminasia before he began to hum, murmuring under his breath, and
destroyed the entirety of the chamber.

Fires leapt into being as the elf murmured his gentle melody, entire books
of notes charring black and crumbling to ash under the unnatural onslaught.
The large map curled at the corners as it crisped and burned before it, too,
succumbed. The sagging bookshelf behind the door creaked as its burden was
incinerated, miraculously leaving the furniture intact. The controlled
inferno spared no blot of ink, no scrap of a word, leaving behind no
evidence of Vadol's presence or his doings.

Pondering his handiwork, the dark elf gave a secretive smile before his
verdant gaze rested upon the lonely alembic, having started to boil over at
the heat of the flame that engulfed it, but still dutifully held its
alchemic contents. With a whispered command, the solution froze over, the
glass cracking at last before it detonated spectacularly, destroying the
last sign of Vadol's hidden workshop.

There were places like this All about Verminasia, each containing scraps of
his research, of his hobbies, of his intentions. Each of them had been put
to the flame in the past day. So, too, was it in Tha'Dhal. His last
official business as Baron had been little more than a pretence to scourge
his library of any evidence of his ambitions, to empty his hidden workspaces
of the immensity of his research and his grand project This was the last of
his stops before he began his journey, the last tether to his ennobled life
in the Dark City.

Not that any of the destruction truly mattered, at least to him. Everything
of value that he had ever written in these workshops had either been
committed to memory or kept in his private library in a far more secure
locale than these lightly-warded hovels. The rest were merely his fleeting
interests, hobbies and eccentricities that served no further purpose, and so
were destroyed. With his accessible body of work destroyed, any trail he
left would go cold before long. The longer it took the Dark City to
discover his true motivations and, in greater truth, the various allies of
Verminasia to learn what he intended, the better.

Vadol left the door ajar as he left, continuing to hum his haunting melody
as he stepped out into the young night. It was a chore, to be certain, to
travel by mundane means once he got to the Arkanian coast, but his intention
was to be subtle, even to the other scions of the Kindred. The less he did
to stand out to the awakened minds, the less any could say of his
whereabouts, the finer his chances were of beginning his journey unimpeded.

First, his chartered voyage to New Thalos would bear him home, long enough
to gather his important things and a more suitable change of clothes. The
light garments, he feared, would not do. The great gates of Verminasia
closed behind him as he made his way south, into the dark woods near the
Black Tower. There was a grim sort of finality to their clang, despite his
shallow insistencies to the contrary.

Once he had attended to his business at home, however, the true journey
would begin. The dark elf paused for a moment, gaze drifting northward,
past Verminasia, past the horizon. To the frozen roof of the world, he
would go. To the inhospitable wastes, to the ruins of vanquished
Shinalstin.

To the seat of history for the lore of the Draconus.




Writer: Mercerion
Date Thu May 18 23:52:54 2017

To Knighthood Immortal Religion Nadrik All Equinox Storyline

Subject Demons of Sin: Aftermath IV: Wrath rekindled.



Mercerion silently knelt withint he sanctuary. Much plagued the mind of
the General as he clutched to his holy symbol. He remembered the looks upon
the faces of those whom had been taken, when he arrived in the demons' realm
to rescue the Shield General. The vacancy of hope, the submission to pure
terror.

It was not something he desired to see on the look of anyone's face again.
He had prepared himself mentally, and was now preparing spiritualy. He had
disavowed himself of his worldly commitments, in order to walk the path of
the Holy Warrior once more.

No longer, would these demons drive fear and hopelessness into Algoron, no
longer would wickedness find purchase for which to strike from the shadows
at those susceptible to their wiles.

The General knelt silently within the Sanctuary, prepared to fast away his
past, in order to walk the path of his future. He knelt a man with a
faith...

Death came to the man he had become. The shogun of the Golden City. Yet he
knew as he finished his silent prayer and rose, that even death would not
claim him. For though the Shogun died,

The Paladin arose.

His only words as he turned to return to the keep were this:

There is no death, There is His Wrath.

Honor above All else.




Writer: Chrauser

Date Fri May 19 10:04:19 2017




Writer: Fardoc
Date Mon May 22 03:45:32 2017

To All Thaxanos Wargar Chaos Jiffy Nadrik Storyline Religion Imm RP

Subject To Apprehend a Traitor - Readying for the Attack



As the others gradually began to filter out of his home and go back to
their respective duties, Fardoc was left alone in the War Room,
contemplating his next course of action. There was little need to go after
the traitor now, as Warpeye was surely roused to anger by the destruction of
his Warped tongs. If the apprentice, Merkel, was to be believed, destroying
them weakened the crazed smith, but he was far too proud and arrogant to let
that stop him from returning the attack.

Unlike the last time meeting with the traitor, this meeting would be on the
Mountains terms, and on its own home turf. Bringing out a quill, ink, and
several sheafs of parchment, the Cardinal began penning multiple copies of
military orders. He wrote quickly, but in a cramped, neat, runic script.
Upon finishing each set, he rolled the paper into a thin scroll and sealed
it along the edge with the Xaprar seal.

There were not to be any orders for maneuvers outside the Kingdom until
further notice, and the scrolls All bore the command for All Xaprar troops
to recall to the Kingdom in preparation for defense of dwarven territory.
The calls would go out to each unit by way of the fastest messengers, and
Fardoc was confident that he would have All available troops ready at hand
within a coming week, from wherever they were stationed on the continent.

Fardoc sat back in his chair and set aside the stack of scrolls when he
fully finished penning All the copies. Aside from the preparations of his
troops, he had much to consider. There were many far-reaching implications
of this latest event. The tongs were destroyed, yes, but the apprentices
injury was severe, and none of the priests nor Betha were sure of how a
wound from the cursed implement might fester over time.

The High Kings plan was quite wise, and was put to the apprentice in a way
that was too great an honor to possibly refuse. By becoming the Kings own
forge apprentice, the lad would be kept close under watchful eyes at all
times, which was far safer for All involved. The morbid symbolism of
Warpeyes apprentice being struck in his own eye by the traitors tongs could
not be ignored, and it bothered the Cardinal far more than he had let on in
the boys presence.

In addition to the Kings own Anarath and guard, Fardoc would send Torlend
along to accompany Merkel wherever he wished, inside the city limits of
course. Even though the Kings guard alone were more than capable, the
priest felt slightly better sending one of his own men to watch over the
boy.

Fardoc sighed, the wind of his breath fluttering the beard at the edges of
his mouth. There was much to ruminate over now, and the battle to capture
and secure Gorlend Warpeye was far from over yet. He grunted and stood,
placing All the sealed scrolls inside a leather satchel. On his way out
from his home and back towards the city, he hailed a young scout from the
Order of Divine Retribution, many of whom were still stationed within his
tower, and beckoned him over.

"Lad, do mae ah favor ahn send off the runners of the Order ta find the
Xaprar troops wherever they bae stationed. The commanders names ahn unit
designations are penned on the outside o the scrolls.
"

The young scout gave a formal salute and the Cardinal harrumphed, "Hurry now,
lad, on ye go! Time is of the essence!
"




Writer: Blays

Date Mon May 22 21:18:44 2017




Writer: Z'Quarus
Date Mon May 22 23:21:33 2017




Writer: Nymaya
Date Tue May 23 15:06:40 2017

To All Verminasia Ashtiel Telthian ( Imm RP )

Subject Remnant of the Kyorl (I)


The dusk was radiant as the sun gasped its last, beginning to withdraw
its rays rapidly in myriad of colors, but she was not watching it from the
lit practice circle. Her awareness was focused, set entirely on her
opponent as she adjusted her paired grip on a quarterstaff and met longsword
and dagger without reservation.

The man - human by blood - was dressed entirely in unmarked armor and she
had singled him out. A line of similarly garbed guards, varying only by
race, gender and weapon's choice, stood nearby watching. Each of them were
royal protectors who had grown in the noble provinces, most of them were
human and she had been assured that though they had shown themselves very
capable fighters - there was room for improvement.

The crack of her staff meeting the man's knee and face in quick succession
as he aimed a slash low caused winces around the room but true to the
discipline he'd boasted, it didn't pause him for long. In the space of time
it took him to thrust at her in repetition again though, she struck him
three more times in succession and watched as his numbed forearm caused the
dagger to drop.

She was silently pleased at her own progress. Several times she felt
herself nearly fumble her grip, missing the balance of her pinky, but the
daily practice was even then paying off and she made the man pay for his
bluster when he stood up by catching him with another rapid succession of
strikes to his head, arm and once on the inner thigh that slapped loudly and
dropped him to a knee.

She held herself still and composed before the guards that were now very
silent, her opponent still shaking off the blows as she set the end of her
weapon to the ground.

"I have been in the business of keeping royalty alive for nearly
four-hundred years. My track record is perfect." She began, her voice
hard but clear in the low lit confines of the open-aired circle. "It has
been nearly my sole occupation and it will be yours now."

She gazed over them slowly then and thought back on the words of her mentor:
Very pretty, but the steel has not been tempered properly. It has gone
through the fire, but has come out again not knowing its true self.

Her opponent stood and she gestured him back to the line with a nod.
Da'shal had been indicating her in his comment and he hadn't been wrong
then. Did she know her true self now?

"Each of you will test yourself against me until I am satisfied in your
skill." She proclaimed. "And I will teach you what it meant to be a Kyorl
and a Songkeeper in Shalonesti."

A half elf stepped forward then wielding a single longsword and the look in
his eyes suggested that he knew something of what she spoke. Anticipating a
challenge now, she let her staff drop and reached back to draw her sword,
missing the bladesong All over again.



 


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