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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

A tale of Two Turnips (Part 3)
Falling (II)
Lunar Conjunction
Recovery
Gogothath Gazette report on feathered menace.
Corruption
(One) An Accidental Awakening
(Two) An Accidental Awakening
(Three) An Accidental Awakening
(Four) An Accidental Awakening
(Five) An Accidental Awakening
(Six) An Accidental Awakening
Promises
Agents of Shade Aftermath: The search for the Weapon of Majere, and the one called Lezra
Guarding the Fragment - Decoys in the Light
Guarding the Fragment - Gathering the World
Guarding the Fragment - Abaddon and the Night's Watch
Intruders
Lost City - Prologue I
Inspiring Hope: Honest Beginnings.
As Night Falls
Lost City - Prologue II
Path of the Guardian (I)
Path of the Guardian (II)
Path of the Guardian (III)
Path of the Guardian (IV)
Path of the Guardian (V)
Path of the Guardian (VI)
We Woke
The Cat
Path of the Guardian (VII)
A Change of Seasons
The Stirring, pt 1
The Stirring, pt 2
Volunteer (Part 1)
Interrogation of the seven
Interrogation of the seven pt.2
Interrogation of the seven pt. 3 (finale)
Lost City - Prologue III - Offerings
Prisoner Transfer (Part 2)
It's Morning
Late Night Escape (Part 1 of 2)
Late Night Escape (Part 2 of 2)





Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 3 18:30:20 2017




Writer: Iscarianth
Date Fri Aug 4 12:06:05 2017

To All ( Iocaste )

Subject A tale of Two Turnips (Part 3)



It was far more poignant of a moment than Iscarianth would have thought.
He had read about relationships - there were library rooms full of poetry,
galleries full of artwork, conservatories full of music and songs - but he
had never really experienced the feeling of longing and loss. That was all
changed one week into his stay at the Atelier, by the most unassuming
situation possible.

Supper was being prepared, the chefs taking just as much pride in how they
-made- food than any of the other artists, tradespeople, or guild members.
It was something the Elf was growing fond of, having his own distinct
opinions on what was edible, what was drinkable, and what was a juice versus
a soup versus a potion. The sudden shock of seeing one of the chefs reach
towards his assistant, take a piece of her, and promptly begin to dice and
slice nearly caused him to faint. Some sort of watershed moment was being
had, the creators in the kitchen far less tactful than other guild members
and rudely posited: What, does Iscarianth not like turnips? Why'd he bring
them with him if he didn't?

What followed was a comedy of errors, the Elf utterly at a loss as to what
was going on - what turnips, who brought them, where was his assistant, did
someone lose the Kender? It was -his- turn to ask the questions, to demand
answers. He did not get anything other than being told to calm down, to
drink some tea, to tell them more about Kender and why in All of Algoron he
would have confused them for turnips.

He had already packed, he was already ready to leave - just the same as when
he was coming home. It was almost a strange parody of his adventure thus
far: He had been reluctant to leave, eager to return - and now he was all
too eager to leave and knew he'd be reluctant to return. He had -promised-.
He -had- to return. He -had- to find his Kender. Waving aside questions,
waving aside pleas for more information, for books, for sculptures, for
poetic prose the Elf was all-too-ready to walk out the ornately crafted
gates. But a voice stopped him, the one person who could still the Elf's
congested and clamoring thoughts - the master of the Atelier.

"If you're going to go, get yourself some Draconus-damned glasses. We are
not sending a boat for a lowly student and a bag of turnips again."

With that biting reproach somehow still tinged with kindness, Iscarianth
colored from ear-tips to feet, bobbing his head in agreement. He would.
He'd find Oaka and a pair of glasses so he could really see her. For the
first time.




Writer: Destinai
Date Sat Aug 5 07:18:41 2017




Writer: Brawnwyn
Date Thu Aug 10 19:45:33 2017




Writer: Terces
Date Mon Aug 14 14:15:39 2017




Writer: Blays
Date Sat Aug 19 18:22:19 2017




Writer: Maithion
Date Mon Aug 21 19:11:36 2017




Writer: Nymaya
Date Mon Aug 21 20:00:28 2017

To All Ashtiel ( Necrucifer Imm Cayenna ) Eclipse

Subject Falling (II)


Necrucifer lets men chose and create their own destiny, without limits.

The temperature dropped steadily as the shadows stretched across the ground
- as she stood in reverent silence. Tension breathed through her limbs,
adrenaline sped her pulse and she felt the darkness stir inside.

Like a beast prowling the shadows, stirring from an uneasy rest. Its eyes
were blood-red with pupils as black as pitch and as it stretched, fangs
glimmered pale white in the dark before it disappeared.

She could feel it inside, the awareness, and there was no fear. Her eyes
closed as the world darkened, the shadows rushing over her as the red moon
flashed bloody and the black moon ate both the white and then, the sun. She
spread her arms, tilted her head back and let herself fall.

The hellish air rushed past her and she opened her eyes, her hair a silver
aura around her, to behold the end and the beginning.

I submit. She breathed and the blue of her eyes disappeared beneath
extinguishing black.

An eruption of acidic agony wracked her lithe frame and though she ground
out a cry, she held nothing back from the shadows ripping through her. They
took everything offered - no part of her was spared and in the sound of the
wind, a singular pleased whisper caught at her frayed awareness:

Come to join us, mother.

The form was insubstantial but through the euphoric pain she reached for it
- for him. A soft, sensual chuckle she recognized slithered over her and
though she was met with eyes as black as the abyss, it was not her son that
grasped her.

...borrowed time..

She felt the ground nearing, it was a visceral sense. She was prepared to
accept the inevitable - if Necrucifer wanted her life, He would have it -
but even as she perceived the moment...

...she woke.

Her inhale was sharp, her entire body jerking in the parlor chair as if
she'd hit the ground and the sound of her book falling brought her senses
fully into wakefulness. The Sunset Dawn was not light reading and she gazed
down on it, feeling a wave of old, familiar discontent settle even as she -
yet again - wondered at the inevitability of her path.

'Where does the road go from here.'




Writer: Rasavadi

Date Mon Aug 21 20:27:59 2017

To All Conclave Shadow Eclipse Imm RP

Subject Lunar Conjunction



Rasavadi sat at his desk. Missives strewn across it, books on ancient
history here and there. Some would say it was not a proper way for a
Masters' library to be organized, but they could All go jump off a cliff he
thought internally.

Quickly the light began to dim unexpectedly in his office. "Damnit, Wxyle
didn't clean my office again!" And then he remembered he released the pixie
from his apprenticeship. "Gods@#$%^ it, we need more janitors." He growled
to no one in particular. Quickly he removed his dragonhelm, with an audible
"suck" of protective gel, and peered about the room for the source of
darkness. It was getting to be a hazy orange darkness out side. An
eclipse? One wasn't predicted for a long time.

Slowly, but surely, the three moons conjoined to cover the sun. Just before
totality a gleaming ray of blood red light show through the window
highlighting the spine of his hereditary copy of The Sunset Dawn, and as if
ordained the black orb of the eclipse settled over the remains of Skull
Keep.

"Join me in true Brotherhood" a mysterious voice echoed in Rasavadi's head.
"We shall unite under a new banner! The banner of an eclipse!" The voice
roared now.


Rasavadi franticly searched the Ebony Tower for the trickster, carelessly
throwing lightning at everything to bring out the tormentor, but there was
nothing.

Returning to the window just in time to watch the ending of the spectacle
Rasavadi raised his polarm in a Knight's salute. With a single tear rolling
down his scarred snout, there was only one phrase worth saying. "Te
Occidere Possunt Sed Te Edere Non Possunt Nefas Est" you are not forgotten
my brothers and sisters.




Writer: Mezlak

Date Thu Aug 24 21:18:45 2017

To All Marauders Raije ( Imm RP Religion Tashio )

Subject Recovery



Mezlak dropped to the chair that had been set out for him by the remains
of the Main Gate of Fort Ironclad. A curse roared from his mouth as the
chair, designed to fold up to transport easier on campaign, nearly collapsed
under him. His entire body still hurt so the sudden movement of trying to
keep from sprawling on the ground sent shooting pain racing through his
body.

He still remembered little of the battle at the entrance to his home the day
before. He was sure however that the gollem, or whatever it was, sending
him flying into the wall of the Fort hurt more than being eaten.

Mezlak didn't even remember being eaten, which he decided was a complete
blessing. The next thing he remembered after hitting the wall was comming
to in Arkane's temple with a healer from Gareth's Keep leaning over him.

Still tales reached him of the kender Evalia. Put those with what he
remembers of her in battle, and he'd have to say he was completely
impressed. He'd never expected such dedication from one of their kind.

She was a detail for another time, though. His focus was on those who were
at this time his soldiers, his brethren. Some were still missing, which
could only mean they were burried somewhere under the damage from the
drake's attack. Mezlak had been told several times to rest. To sleep. How
could he, though? The Marauders were as much his family as his own son and
daughter, and some were missing. He was not going to leave them behind. He
was going to be here when they were rescued from their prison under that
rubble. He was going to be here when it was discovered if they were alive
or dead. It was the least he could do.

He turned his head back to where a tent and cot had been set up in Hammurabi
Square. Someone appearantly had decided on their own that since no one
could seem to pull him away to rest, they'd make it so he could rest here.


Mezlak could have just as easily assigned this to one of the other officers
of the Fort. He was pretty sure no one would blame him to see to the other
aspects of running the Marauders. No matter what anyone else thought
though, he could not force himself to leave. Not yet.

His family was missing, and he'd be here when they were finally found.




Writer: Destinai
Date Thu Aug 24 22:52:44 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sat Aug 26 22:38:07 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sat Aug 26 23:15:07 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sat Aug 26 23:46:59 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sat Aug 26 23:47:24 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 00:47:13 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 00:47:51 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 14:13:10 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 15:13:26 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 16:28:39 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 16:29:10 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 16:29:18 2017




Writer: Jermichael
Date Sun Aug 27 16:29:26 2017




Writer: Riordan
Date Sun Aug 27 21:11:25 2017

To Verminasia All ( IMM RP )

Subject Gogothath Gazette report on feathered menace.



Informal report and interview of street-cleaners and guards regarding the
fowl play in Verminasia.

Commander Riordan Atennim had been present when the fowl of fury had waddled
into the Verminasian temple, lost in thought he had not paid it much
attention until it's agitated sounds, honking and screeching, roused him
from his contemplation.

The enormous goose had come out of nowhere, at first merely waddling around
but it's demeanor changed quickly as it became agitated and started to
charge at those who had come to see what the honk was happening. In
flurries of beak, feathers and surprisingly large talons on it's webbed feet
- it charged Riordan and Trallin Blackhand before Riordan threw himself on
the fowl's back.

Now throwing himself on a gigantic bird's back might not have been the best
approach, considering there are crossbows, bows, ropes, nets or just about
anything that doesn't involve throwing yourself at the creature would likely
all have been safer.

Riordan was part dragged, part rode the gigantic goose as it started to race
through the streets of Verminasia, All the while enduring constant pecks and
bites by the long-necked fowl before the ride took a turn for the wetter.
Fowl and (as I'm sure some would argue, fool) Commander, went into the river
off Drakkara bridge and vanished downstream.

Official witness accounts end as the two went beyond the city walls.

A statement from Commander Riordan Atennim reads as follows after being
asked about what happened next:

-- I sought to capture the creature as it did not seem entirely normal and
would certainly be of interest to our researchers. The gigantic goose
unexpectedly dragged me into the river but as my swashbuckling training has
taught me to ride various water-related creatures, I was not thrown off the
bird until we hit land despite it's many attempts.

It is my intention to locate and capture this goose as it got away from me
in the end, having taken to the sky without me." --

There are several questions about this gigantic goose and rest assured that
I, Gaston Gilford, of the Gogothath Gazette will find out the truth, unlike
the FAKE news that come out with annoying frequency.




Writer: Erebaal
Date Mon Aug 28 23:07:44 2017

To All ( Chaos Slayers Waaagh Immortal Religion Storyline Malachive Scorn )

Subject Corruption



The outraged outcry was gratifying to hear.

Word of the accord traveled quickly, spreading from the few witnesses of the
shaking of hands. Two warriors had stood on the field of battle, had struck
an alliance with little more than a gesture. The understanding was there.
It had been there All along.

The Overlord, the Beast of Greystoke had long been a matter of interest to
the Everchosen. Had proven both receptive and perceptive, despite its
infuriating opacity when it came to speech. Ultimately, however, enough was
understood. To defeat the "Unnaturals" that were so hated by the Manor of
Slayers, the surest means was through destruction of their source. Divinity
was the true sin, the true nest of evil that had been hunted by Greystoke
since their inception. At long last, it was understood.

The Everchosen allowed himself a rare smile, a predatory, wolfish grin that
went largely unseen beneath his three-quarters helm as he stalked the
fortress that was his domain. New faces, fresh faces, untested and yet
hungry for destruction swam around him. The Cult of the Damned parted
around him like a shoal of fish, understanding the menace implicitly despite
his relative quiescence. They were little better than fodder, when it came
down to it. Bodies to be thrown into battle, to drown his endless enemies
in a merciless tide of madness and bloodshed. They were not the Champions
that he had acknowledged in years past, so many gone silent since their
ascension. The few of any worth among his Cults would have to replace them.

Unless, of course, the Overlord succeeded. Corruption or destruction,
tearing apart the Manor of Greystoke was a boon to him. Raije's
stranglehold on the Manor was a strong one. To prize it from His grip would
be a worthy blow, and to deny Him His claim to their souls would be damning,
indeed. The Everchosen pushed open a doorway and began the climb to the
surface, emerging in a wild, savage garden that served as a courtyard to the
Warp. He rarely came here, but from here offered the best view of the world
that reviled him and his. If Waaagh could manage the task before him, a
worthy Champion could be born of that, as well. Leading those of the Damned
from the Manor as his Cult would serve to swell the Warp's ranks further,
populating it with seasoned warriors, not these unblooded sacrifices.

The ugly grin returned, and the Everchosen flexed an iron claw. The chains
fused to his vambraces ground against one another with the motion, and he
swept his black gaze to the north, toward the civilized nations of the
world. Yes, today had been a satisfactory day.




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:39 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:41 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:43 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:45 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:47 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:49 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:51 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:16:56 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:17:02 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:17:12 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:17:14 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:18:44 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Thu Aug 31 06:18:46 2017




Writer: Terces
Date Fri Sep 1 15:41:25 2017




Writer: Terces
Date Fri Sep 1 15:47:39 2017




Writer: Alexiah
Date Tue Sep 5 18:34:58 2017




Writer: Alexiah
Date Tue Sep 5 21:30:31 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Wed Sep 6 02:59:01 2017




Writer: Jane
Date Wed Sep 6 15:02:05 2017

To All New_Thalos ( Imm )

Subject (One) An Accidental Awakening


The early morning was cool in the desert. The stable hands moved with purpose
as they went about their chores, their near-frosty breath mingling with that of
the stallions that stamped and snorted impatiently within their stalls. It was
without saying that such valuable creatures were guarded closes at night, even
if they were loaned out freely to All those in need. There was a difference in
borrowing, and stealing, but of course the horses required exercise to burn off
their nearly boundless energy, so they would be released into the arid plains
to run and amble about as it pleased them. They would be let back in during the
afternoon to rest out of the heat of the day. Usually, their routine involved
some light training regimes to keep them obedient, but today they were going to
get a temporary respite.

The Stablemaster had a short journey to make and would not return until after
the sun was descending beneath the horizon. Additionally, she needed All of her
veteran workers along to help with the trip, to handle the flux of new horses,
and to rotate with the staff she had stationed at the ranch outpost within the
Province of Nall Aruh where Sheikh-Admiral Brawnwyn oversaw the lands that were
responsible for the wild herds of Thalosian horses. She was open with admitting
that the yearlings and second years that had been rounded up by her staff had a
promising sound to them on paper, so it was time to take the older horses out,
then bring the younger ones in to train and create a new breeding line. It was
a lot of constant planning, review of old lineage charges, and trial and error,
but she had to admit it was satisfying.

"Mishka, for the last time, lad, ya curry WITH the hair, not against! You're
gonna get yourself bit again!"

Less than an hour later, the small caravan of riders was mounted and a wagon
hitched and loaded with supplies, a second empty wago in tow. Thus began their
half-day journey toward Nall Aruh. Light conversation passed through the group
that had grown comfortable with one another over the mounths and during Jane's
first experience with a Thalosian summer. Which, she admitted, had been a test
in and of itself, but at least the people knew how to handle it well enough.

After a couple of hours the group of riders fell into an easy quiet. Riding
was a constant, conscious act of moving with the horse and while experience
helped with familiarity there was always the slow drain of energy and the need
to focus on the terrain and the surroundings. This left a lot of time for in-
trospection before they would need to stop and rest during the hottest part of
the day. She was told that once summer had relinquished its grip properly that
such would no longer be necessary, but after the last few months it was beyond
difficult to imagine that the sun would ever be less harsh in the desert.




Writer: Jane

Date Wed Sep 6 15:03:28 2017

To All New_Thalos ( Imm )

Subject (Two) An Accidental Awakening


The first indication was the lead horse balking in its walk, ears pinning
back tightly against its head as it snorted and pawed at the ground in antsy,
uncertain fashion. The ripple of anxiety passed through All of the horses, a
chain effect that passed from beast to beast and put every rider instantly in
attentiveness. These were trained horses and they were less likely to react in
such a way to a snake or other lesser threat. One by one the riders drew their
weapons, switching from reign control to leg pressure and guidance.

Whizzing through the air faster than the eye could hope to track, a crossbow
bolt slammed into the chest of a rider only a few feet from Jane. Death was
instant for the aged human as his eyes went sightless and he fell from a
suddenly free steed. It All seemed to happen in slow motion, watching friend
become a corpse, the corpse hitting the ground, the horse taking off to drag
the body of its rider via stirrup through the short, dry grass. She saw his
sightless eyes gleam in the sunlight before absolute chaos erupted and the
slowing of time was replaced by everything happening far too quickly.

Battle roared into existed as a band of raiders descended on the group of
Thalosians and their mounts. The wagons came to a halt as a series of bolts
slammed into the wooden sides and then everything was the screaming of men,
women, and horses. Reality and sanity came apart as everyone began to fight for
their very lives. Scimitars flashed and rang through the air as blood and more
was shed. Dust rose up as the horses ran and reared and charged by the direction
of their riders. Hooves flashed, destructive and lethal and the mouths of horses
reached to bite at unfamiliar scents and clothing.

Jane ducked a scimitar and lashed out with her staff, slamming the end into a
shin. Bone cracked beneath the blow from the uttered spell for giant's strength
beneath her breath and the raider screamed in agony. She twisted in her footing
and shifted her staff, catching the raider behind the other knee. As he went
down she summersaulted and came down with both feet on his chest, doing her
best to not think about the harsh cracking and caving beneath her feet because
another bolt whizzed past her head. Because she did not want to think about what
it meant to murder someone, even if was her life, or their own. She did not have
the time or luxury to think about other options, though.




Writer: Jane

Date Wed Sep 6 15:09:31 2017

To All New_Thalos ( Imm )

Subject (Three) An Accidental Awakening


She was not sure when she had come off her horse, but she was not suited to
mounted combat and she she ran through the brawling massacre. She shouted her
songs and ducked and weaved, lashed out with her staff as she had been trained,
drilled, driven to remember movements in her sleep to enact them in perfect
precision. She was a performer, but her skills had a more vital and life pre-
serving use. She heard the whistle of another bolt and she reacted, her body
spinning about so that her shoulder would block the blow if she did miss, but
her hand snatched the projectile right out of the air. Terror and adrenaline
coursed through her veins as close by another of her friends fell to the ground
and spasmed, blood gushing from a wound in her throat and her chest before she
went still.

It was not rage that overtook her, but a desperate and consuming need to
survive - to live!

The man that approached her... seemed off, and she realized they were the only
two left. Everyone else was on the ground, moaning or still. Her heart hammered
painfully behind her breast and she adjusted her grip on her staff, but it was
slick with blood and her own sweat. Her vision was blurred from a stinging dust
that was on everything from the life or death scuffle, but she watched as the
man glared at her with eyes that seemed to see right through her. Her heartbeat
nearly drove what breath was left in her lungs out of her body. She tried to
swallow and only felt her throat move, burn from overuse and sandy air. Nearby,
one of the men groaned. Her own? One of the raiders?

"You should pay attention!" The coarse shout was almost in her ears and she
barely had time to react. The vibration of her staff numbed her hands, her body
moving of its own accord to raise her staff, to shift her hands and bring sharp
motions to just the right spot. The scimitar went flying, end over end, glinting
in the sunlight before it buried into the wide of the wagon. She was too slow in
reacting to the shoulder that slammed into her chest. She went sprawling, winded
and dazed before her instincts screamed at her to come moving. Stillness was to
give into the call of death and she was not ready yet!

Rolling backwards, she found her hands, then the air briefly. She flipped and
twirled, barely escaping a series of throwing knives that tore through her coat
and her scarf, nicked the edge of her ear and left it burning with pain. Blood
trickled down the side of her neck and splattered upon the ground. Her staff was
gone and she searched quickly for some sort of weapon as the raider stalked to-
ward her, another scimitar in his hand. He gave it a lazy spin as he approached,
as he intimidated her with his size and his familiarity with death, the ease in
which he handled it.

"Almost a shame. You're a bit shorter than I usually like, but you've got some
spirit to you. I can always use good fighters, but..." The raider trailed off.




Writer: Jane

Date Wed Sep 6 15:12:37 2017

To All New_Thalos ( Imm )

Subject (Four) An Accidental Awakening


He was close now. So close, and she had nothing as she backed away, advanced
to the side as she had been taught. Never give up ground! You cannot see your
footing behind you in unfamiliar terrain! Her pulse continued to pound in her
ears, in her head. She felt her blood beginning to soak her shirt. What was the
man saying? She forced herself to focus, to maybe buy herself more time, but he
suddenly struck at her, a vicious downward strike that she did not fully manage
to evade. Her left arm sent a shock of pain through the rest of her as the blade
opened up a deep gash.

"You should give up, girly. You don't have a weapon and that wound is going to
bleed you dry the more you move. Why don't you be a good girly and kneel down? I
promise I'll make it quick. Painless even." The raider seemed absolutely certain
of his victory, now. The dust was beginning to settle and reveal the awful scene
of the aftermath of the assault.

Tears burned at Jane's eyes. NO! She didn't want to die. Her tongue protested
as she bit it, refusing to shed the tears, refusing to sob. In an instant her
mind played the images of All those she had come to know, a macabre theatre of
all that she would be losing, that she would leave behind.

She watched memories of darts with Azah and Narsh in the Hearts and the way
the latter had looked so tired the last time they had truly spoken. She watched
memories of Tarpu - the brave, handsome gully being picked up by his mammoth, of
the time he had shown her his skills with a bow in Aghar, where she had drawn
his portrait, her absolute favorite. She watched memories of Gavriel, how he had
a way of running his tongue over his teeth, pushing his hand through his hair -
she saw the soldier priest the first day she had met him with her liger, both of
them miserable and hungry, and she remembered the scar from what he had bravely
sacrificed. She remembered her grandmother and the loving, sad expression the
angelic woman had worn on her wrinkled face beneath her cloud of snow white hair
on that porch the day Jane had said goodbye, unknowingly for the very last time.

A'kariel, Zelatia, Zatael, Tamariah, Lothaw, Letholdus, Zarina, Damerus, Ryim,
Roeck, Mezlak, Mahazi, Iocaste, Kaelissa, Nymaya, Blays, Brawnwyn, Lunez, Grumf,
Lornan and so many more...

The people, the memories, they blurred together faster and faster as she felt
her strength begin to drain away and leave her. She sank to a knee, her head
hanging. Over the roar in her ears she thought she heard the raider speak as he
approached her.

"That's a good girly. No need to suffer. You did good. You'll be a great story
around the fire tonight. Might even keep that pretty charm bracelet you've got
all for myself. Now ain't that romantic?"




Writer: Jane

Date Wed Sep 6 15:41:38 2017

To All New_Thalos ( Imm )

Subject (Five) An Accidental Awakening


Her charm bracelet?

Jane's eyes found the bracelet on her wrist and latched onto the bloodied bits
of porcelain. They were lilies, blue ones. Pale blue, like the sky on a clear,
crisp fall morning. They had been All she had managed to recover from her farm,
after the flood... after...

"Now hold still. I'll get a clean stroke, girly and you won't feel a thing."

Her fingers twitched and in the sand beneath her feet she felt the familiar,
if clumsy, shape and hardness of a weapon. She placed her hand on the ground and
felt for the handle, dug her fingers into the sand, curled them around the hilt
of the buried blade.

The rage came out of nowhere. It broke out of her shattered soul like an un-
hinged beast that had been abused, kicked, and bit too many times and had grown
bitter and violent because of it. A terrible sound poured from her lips, from
the very depths of her being as she channeled every ounce of frustration, anger,
sorrow and hate she had ever felt into her good arm, using the strength of her
legs to aid the blow. There was only a little resistance as the raider's head
came clean off and plopped to the ground, an expression of shock and fear still
on his features. His body was quick to follow. Jane stood, panting, drained, an
emptiness in her heart while the bloodied scimitar clattered to the ground, as
well.

Turning away from the corpse of the raider, she gripped her wounded arm, then
yanked off her scarf. She croaked a song for healing as she used her teeth to
cinch the silk fabric around her bicep, feeling the magical tune begin to knit
at the wound and close it up. All she wanted to do was to sleep, but she was in
a desperate state to see if any of her fellow Thalosians were still alive, and
to make sure All the raiders were either dead or permanently out of commission.

A strange sound filled the air. It sounded like a pistol shot, or the crack of
a whip charged with electricity layered over the shattering of glass and it was
given great cacophony by an echo of ringing, as though an iron gate had slammed
and was vibrating from the blow. She did not even manage to turn around before a
powerful sensation slammed into her body from behind and drove the air from her
lungs. Energy, of no kind of magic or source that she had ever known, wrapped
around her form, penetrated it, lifted her from the ground as it invaded her be-
ing and her mind.




Writer: Faythe

Date Wed Sep 6 16:01:10 2017




Writer: Jane

Date Wed Sep 6 16:03:48 2017

To All New_Thalos ( Imm )

Subject (Six) An Accidental Awakening


Voices filled her head. Whispers, shouts, All in tones she recognized and yet
had know recollection of ever knowing. She was dropped to the ground by the same
force that had snatched her and she crumpled there. Images paraded in front of
her, even as she closed her eyes against the menagerie of memories. Sensation
combined in horrendous rhapsody, her mind struggling to grasp a single feeling,
a single moment, a single scrap of reality that was whirling about her, into
her, through her. Faraway places and the secrets of the men who fled from her
were contrasted with her own recollections of hearth and home, the smell of her
grandmother's cooking, the feel of the sun's heat despite the evening's chill.

It was too much, too quickly, and she reeled under the sensory overload. Her
head pounded, throbbed, as though some impossible pressure strained against her
skull. She was going to explode from the inside out if this did not abate soon.
A ragged cry was torn from her, muffled by the sands as she quailed against the
earth, taking some small solace in its solidity.

Then, she knew, and knew no more.

Darkness wrapped around her as surely as the seasons changed and stole her to
a rest that was plagued with dreams of things she had no knowledge or memory of
ever learning. She was and was not herself in that plane of etherealness. There
were stories of joy and hardship, sensations of lust and jealousy and hatred, a
sense of cocky assurance and deep violence that did not belong to her, but were
as a part of her as her nose or her laugh. While she struggled with the peculiar
quasi-reality that her mind sought in darkness, she learned and she forgot, and
she found herself seeing and doing things that seemed familiar and second nature
but were not her own. Yet they were her, she was they. Unconsciously, she fought
against it and gave in until even in her dreams she felt herself as two people,
as more than two, and All were interlaced over the same in an unstable way which
was irrevocably stitched and glued and nailed - bonded beyond separation, lest
the whole of everything shattered into fragments that could not be recovered.

She awoke staring at a ceiling that was vaguely familiar. Several blinks were
required for her to focus and she rolled her head to glance around. It was small
in size, the bunkroom, but she was a tidy table and chair and the door was ajar,
letting in a soft current of air. Her head ached and her body felt entirely for-
eign to her to the point that she struggled to sit up and yet found herself upon
her feet without realizing how she had gotten there. Her voice croaked when she
called out, but footsteps sounded against the wooden floor.

What followed was a series of befuddled conversations and reassurance. Many of
the Thalosians had managed to survive, though their wounds would require quite a
bit of diligent tending. Some of them would have stiff motions or loss of limbs,
but they would be able to keep doing their jobs in the stables. The few whom had
perished had been wrapped to be transported home, though they had been given a
series of blessings and prayers already. The surviving raiders, few as they had
been, had been summarily executed once the outpost had found the scene - drawn
to check the road when the Stablemaster's entourage had not arrived on time. It
paid to be known for being punctual, it seemed. A report had already been pre-
pared and sent on its way to the City, to the Court to be made aware of what had
happened.




Writer: Ruwen

Date Thu Sep 7 16:20:17 2017




Writer: Ruwen

Date Thu Sep 7 16:23:04 2017




Writer: Nymaya

Date Fri Sep 8 17:17:23 2017

To All Necrucfier Religion ( Uvall Imm Cayenna RP ) Crelius

Subject Promises



The air was heavy, suffocatingly so within the marsh, but she ignored it.
She could just make out the top of a tower from her vantage point and had
she not known better, might have easily bypassed it thinking it nothing more
than part of the jungle canopy All about.

She knew the path, she stopped short of progressing along it though and
simply stood in the murky dark. The air was so still that she could hear
water stirring in the standing pools and the movements of even the smallest
local creatures. There were far more dangerous things lurking but they gave
her wide berth. Dark, crimson-edged flame writhed over her left hand and
beneath her, the vines writhed.

'Cutting the bonds to see your own will strengthened is no sin'

The muscles along her jaw and down through her neck flexed, held briefly and
then released before her head angled to study the path ahead, her gaze
hidden within the shadows that rapidly descended around her. There were
hours yet until night but the ominous rumble of thunder interrupted the
silence and the whispered promise of the violence to come eased over the
tops of the trees.

'..wallow if you must, but do not tarry long. The Master of Darkness will
not abide empty promise'

The demonfire flared, mirroring in her shadowed gaze. She was committed to
changing the narrative of her life. The first cut had already been made,
the collateral though...

One who follows the heart, finds it will bleed

She knew the Code and her fingers curled slowly against her palm as she
silently reflected on it, her gaze lowering to watch the dance and lick of
the blackened flames. Overhead, the clouds roiled while the heaviness
deepened.

'You will not be given a path. You will have to make your own if you wish
your sacrifices to have meaning'

Her imagination was lacking, she decided, but there were at least two
appealing options. The first was potentially before her - her patience
would determine its viability. The second would take her into the barren
wastes of Icewall if she survived the first. From there, it was anyone's
guess.

The wind rose and in the dark flame that writhed over her fist, she saw her
son again. His back, the symbol of Necrucifer etched into the skin, the
melted flesh...

Her eyes closed even as lightning split the sky above and in the rush of the
rising wind, she again perceived the sound of her son's scream. It
registered through her entire body, as if she'd been physically - viscerally
- assaulted by it.

Say my name, Nymaya.

The whisper was intimate - a hellish breath along her ear. There was no
pretense though. She had overstepped herself, he would make her pay. Had
made her pay. Rashly, she had offered and the demon had capitalized.

"Uvall" She whispered sharply and let the demonfire snuff out, casting her
fully into the storm-laden darkness.




Writer: Mezlak

Date Sat Sep 9 01:28:13 2017




Writer: Mercerion

Date Sun Sep 10 14:08:41 2017

To All Immortal Religion Nadrik ( Lezra Cahlizna Cayenna Equinox Falric Mezlak Nymaya Narsh Letholdus )

Subject Agents of Shade Aftermath: The search for the Weapon of Majere, and the one called Lezra



The office of the Crown General had rarely been used in recent times.
Mercerion often favored the temple to Nadrik within the keep in his waking
hours, but this evening was different. Far into the dark hours of the
morning, he had been pouring through journals, reports, and tomes covering
the historical events of the first battles with the shades.

He had gotten to work shortly after one of the Crown squires had seen to his
armor. The entire torso of his suit of armor was wrecked and in need of
repair, thanks to the corrupted elemental's attack within the volcano. Bits
of slag had to be pulled from the wound it left, and Jornhya had given the
Crown General a proper scolding of his lack of discretion.

"Discretion never was my strong suit.." Mercerion winced as Jornhya plucked
the last bit of slag from the gash in Mercerion's chest, beginning to stitch
him, "Just ask the Althainian royal guard I kept those poor bastards
overworked, preferring to lead from the front." Jornhya shook his head and
soon finished closing and dressing the wound, giving Mercerion a potion
prescribing the dosage, before sending a squire to retrieve the writs that
the Lord Crown had requested.

What he was searching for in particular, was any record of what had become
of the weapons Suldraug had used to fight the Shades, and also what had
become of Lezra whom, Mercerion hoped, would be able to shed some light on
their current position.

The search was going to take more time than the Crown General feared they
had, so he would search long into the night and into the day, hoping
somewhere in the Keep's records he would be able to find a clue to help this
unlikely alliance that was being forged.





Writer: Mezlak
Date Sun Sep 10 19:16:23 2017

To Marauders Mercerion Nymaya Letholdus Narsh Falric Iocaste All ( Imm RP Religion Raije Claith )

Subject Guarding the Fragment - Decoys in the Light



Mezlak stood looking at the cloth covered fragment on the pedestal in the
middle of the room. The twenty guards with their magical balls of light
made the small room crowded. The fragment on the pedestal looked exactly
like the fragment they had pulled from the elemental in the Volcano just a
few days ago. The Fort's smiths had done a masterful job of replicating the
look. It was the magical energy the Magi couldn't copy.

Mezlak hoped it was enough to fool any shades that may come for it. He knew
they could sense the fragment. That they were drawn to it. He hoped the
draw wasn't so specific that the shades wouldn't realise it was a fake until
it was to late.

As he walked away, his two gaurds reminding him of the insistance of his
officers that at least some guards follow him, since he secretly carried the
real fragment. Mezlak feared that alone would give away the ruse. He'd
never had a bodyguard before. He hoped the enemy didn't know that.




Writer: Nymaya
Date Mon Sep 11 01:35:48 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Mon Sep 11 04:13:25 2017




Writer: Brimstune
Date Mon Sep 11 05:45:29 2017




Writer: Brimstune
Date Mon Sep 11 05:46:41 2017




Writer: Brimstune
Date Mon Sep 11 05:47:57 2017




Writer: Brimstune
Date Mon Sep 11 05:55:30 2017




Writer: Brimstune
Date Mon Sep 11 05:56:44 2017




Writer: Faythe
Date Wed Sep 13 00:49:41 2017




Writer: Relbag
Date Wed Sep 13 21:16:22 2017




Writer: Ruwen
Date Wed Sep 13 21:20:21 2017




Writer: Mezlak
Date Thu Sep 14 17:27:07 2017

To Marauders Mercerion Nymaya Letholdus Narsh Falric Iocaste All ( Imm RP Religion Raije Claith Chalizna )

Subject Guarding the Fragment - Gathering the World



Mezlak sat at the desk set up in the Grand Hall of the temple to Raije
he'd built on the south side of Hammurabi Square. The temple was one of the
strongest in Fort Ironclad. It was not the Stronghold built into a
mountain, but it's walls were over five feet thick, it's windows were
nothing more than arrow slits. The temple was built to be a strong point in
Fort Ironclad. Another part of the defenses. Mezlak couldn't think of a
better tribute to the God of War than making His temple a tool of war for
His Army.

He looked over the reports of supplies. The surge of volunteers from other
kingdoms and clans had put a strain on the Army's supplies. The dwarves of
Baewar had already put a large dent in the supply of ale in the Fort.
Mezlak had already received one complaint from the operator of the Rusty
Nail about being drunk dry of ale.

Mezlak didn't care. It was a small price to pay to see the world uniting
for war. Uniting for war beneath the Marauder Banner. This was the victory
he'd been set on the path for what seems like ages ago.

The shades had continued to test the defenses. None of the pushes were
serious yet. However, their actions seemed to be indicating a major assault
soon. Mezlak poured over the map of Ironclad. He was trying to predict
where this assault would come from. Mezlak was sure of only one thing. The
shades final assault would be nothing like anything he could imagine.

The Marauders would do their part. They would guard the fragment. Others
were learning how to deal with it, or what to do with it at least. That was
not his battle to fight, however. His battle was here. He had to have
faith the others were looking, and finding what was needed.




Writer: Catroina
Date Thu Sep 14 22:45:42 2017

To Marauder Abaddon Vyasa Mezlak Mercerion Letholdus Nymaya Falric Iocaste All ( IMM RP Religion Raije Claith Fatale Chalizna )

Subject Guarding the Fragment - Abaddon and the Night's Watch



Cat didnt speak for Abaddon, though she did command the guard and she had
negotiated the treaty that the Bloodlands held with the Fort herself, so
when the call changed and the High Lord asked, she came.

A contingent of the guard came with her, leaving more than was known by most
to watch the shadows at home, for the numbers of the Sanguine Guard were, at
best a rough estimate at any given time, save to the Count himself. While
all of them were perfectly capable, the men in her company were best
described as shadows themselves. Not the sort to stand before gates with
swords drawn, these were the men and women that stalked and protected the
night, and yet here they were.

The Dwarves had answered and could subsequently be heard even when they were
not manning the walls above. Gruff voices were raised in far too easily
broken into song and general revelry amongst themselves, fueled All the more
by what store of ale the Fort had currently, though she was sure it was
dwindling. The Elves also had answered, and while it was quite entertaining
for a moment or two to watch them bicker at having to be stationed on a wall
within sight of a dwarf, she had far more to do at this moment. A Knight of
what looked to be the Shield passed, and Catroina made a mental note to
speak to her men to stay clear of him if possible, tight quarters were going
to be hard enough without fundamental clashes of religion and morals adding
to the conflict amongst those on the same side.

The influx of aid had put some strain on the resources of the Fort, she
knew, so in speaking with the High Lord it was decided that her men would
house themselves in the tunnels leading to the rarely used arena,
underground. While little was known of Abaddons guard within the Kingdom
and even less without, it was generally accepted that those of the
Bloodlands had no great love for the sunlight. Something in common it
seemed with these Shades, and one that could be used to advantage. A word
to the men set them to work making the wide tunnel into a makeshift barracks
and then getting some rest.

_______________________________________________________________________

Dusk roused them, and the ranks of the Sanguine Guard moved silently about
the tunnel in preparation for relieving the others atop the wall. Catroina
and one of her commanders talked the outer wall of Fort Ironclad, reviewing
plans for the evening and noting how many men had been stationed where
during the day and assigning her own in replacement before she climbed the
northwestern tower just as one of the large mirrors was hoisted onto the
ramparts. They were circular and taller than a man was tall, dozens of
them, All carefully wrought and polished to a shine, each set behind a torch
along the wall and covered for the moment.

As the sun set fully and the stars above became visible, a sign from
Catroina signaled the dark cloths be drawn. Silver surfaces were revealed
in rippling effect, each catching the lights set before them and reflecting
them outward a great many times stronger than the flames themselves were
able to penetrate into the darkness. The Light burst out from the walls of
Ironclad as an additional shield, and on the ramparts walked the silent
shadows of the nights watch, Abaddon had joined the fight.




Writer: Catroina
Date Thu Sep 14 22:56:37 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Fri Sep 15 05:46:42 2017




Writer: Ayrora
Date Fri Sep 15 09:26:38 2017

To All Verminasia Roleplay Storyline Immortal

Subject Intruders



Ayrora awoke with a start. She could sense something was wrong. She
grabbed her riding clothes and dressed as quickly as she could and almost
fell trying to put on her riding boots. As she ran out the the front door
she stopped suddenly as she saw the guards had gathered in front of the
Manor and were ready to do as she ordered.

Captain Amos took a few steps forward facing Ayrora and salutes her,
"Viscountess, it has come to my attention that Commander Jones and Commander
Thomas have allowed three intruders within the gates during their night
shift."
She looked from one Commander to the other, "May I ask what you
were thinking when you allowed these three intruders within my province?"

The Commanders looked at each other before Commander Jones chose to speak
up, "We didn't see any harm in it. They were hungry and looked like they
needed rest so we allowed them to pick a few fruits and sleep underthe
trees. They left in the morning, we saw to that."


Ayrora looked sternly at the two, "Was it your decision to make?" She
continued to look at them, "Was not security heightened due too everything
that has happened recently? Do we not have protocol to follow during these
times?"
She took a few steps towards the two Commanders, her eyes hiding
her anger. "Had this been handled in the proper manner things may have been
different but you both shall never know."


She quickly turns to Captain Amos, "Captain, I place these men in your
hands. See to it that they receive what is due them, take a few guards and
show them to the gates. If you wish to punish them before they are seen to
the gates, you have my permission."
Captain Amos saluted Ayrora and turned
to go, "One more thing, if the inruders are seen within these gates again,
make sure they no longer return."
"Yes indeed, Viscountess." She nodded
in approval as they led the Commander





Writer: Juelian

Date Fri Sep 15 10:27:44 2017




Writer: Telthian

Date Fri Sep 15 22:25:04 2017

To All Verminasia immortal Tashio Cayenna Ampersand storyline Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Prologue I


--*--
For months it hung in the night sky, inching ever closer towards its
violent end. Had its purpose not been something so harrowing it would have
been a source of radiance, for it cast light within the cold dead vacuum of
the heavens above Algoron with such intensity that it was visible even
during the day. But that crimson star was a portent of a grim future, and
its aftermath seemed to be one that not even the gods themselves were fully
prepared for.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frozen winds ripped across the desolate tundra, howling with an inhospitable
fury. The terrain was foreign and irregular, reshaped by the quakes and
landslides that followed the crimson star's impact. Through the
convergeance of sudden, terrible heat and powerful churning earth the impact
site heaved and settled into a dramatic ring cast in stone and ice high upon
the plateau. Tremors shook the entire continent for weeks, but the seat of
the once powerful empire of Dae'tok was buried in minutes.

Skirting the edge of the crater, a broad, slow moving river cut a lazy path
through the snow-covered peaks and gullies of the mountain range, emptying
into the ocean far to the south. A pair of figures draped in heavy furs
looked out over the plateau from the leeward side of the crags, sheltered
from the prevailing winds.

Telthian drew a measured breath, kindling a globe of hellfire within his
palm. The flames licked over his digits as he stared into its undulating
core, before closing his eyes and focusing his mind on a point down beneath
their perch.

Snuffing the flame the priest nodded, turning to look upon his companion.
"I can feel it there, beneath the snow and ice. The mark of God remains
even after so many years."

Her reply was soft and lyrical, almost lost within the wind. A smile played
at the edge of her mouth despite the challenge that would lie ahead. "Then
we will approach from the river, following it until we turn east there, just
beyond the break. " Ashtiel's slender fingers traced the path of the river
in the air, indicating an expanse of tundra suitable as a forward post.

The chill winds wipping at them, King and Queen observed the expanse of
lifeless tundra before finally nodding in tacit agreement.

--*--




Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Sep 15 23:20:42 2017

To Immortal Religion Knighthood ( All Nadrik Austinian Amateras )

Subject Inspiring Hope: Honest Beginnings.



The sun was just starting to peek up over the walls of Gareth Keep as
Mercerion rode his warhorse up the road. The coming autumn was threatening
in the breeze as it whipped through the General's cloak.

He smiled to himself, remembering the looks on the faces of the people he
had met with. In Althaini alone, he had set up an accord with Skarr, that
any beggar whom needed monies would be eligible for a voucher from Gareth
Keep, care of a fund Mercerion had established from his own earnings, for
food, shelter, and necessary tools and training for an occupation or trade.


He had spoken with many of the beggars, and brought them to Skarr himself,
handing over the required funds to get them started, and those whom had not
completed their education at the university, Mercerion offered a scholarship
therein, to see them a fair shot at education.

Then, Mercerion had ridden through many other kingdoms of Algoron, seeking
out the poor and destitute, buying meals, new clothing, and offering what
trade knowledge he, and the members of his company in Gareth had to offer,
that these people may live a better life, and inspire hope where it had
vacated the lands.

He knew this was just a beginning, and a small one at that, but he would
continue this work. Even the strongest of bastions start with a solid base
and foundation, and he had helped break the ground in this.





Writer: Namia

Date Sat Sep 16 01:26:14 2017




Writer: Rayvenna

Date Sat Sep 16 03:17:26 2017




Writer: Rayvenna

Date Sat Sep 16 03:21:30 2017




Writer: Rayvenna

Date Sat Sep 16 03:24:03 2017




Writer: Rayvenna

Date Sat Sep 16 03:24:33 2017




Writer: Gabriela
Date Sat Sep 16 06:09:09 2017




Writer: Gabriela
Date Sat Sep 16 06:11:51 2017




Writer: Iocaste
Date Sat Sep 16 19:31:15 2017




Writer: Iocaste
Date Sat Sep 16 19:52:02 2017




Writer: Iocaste
Date Sat Sep 16 20:13:44 2017




Writer: Gabriela
Date Sun Sep 17 07:58:19 2017

To All ( Shalonesti Rp )

Subject As Night Falls



The moons were already visible in the eastern skies and starting their
nightly ascent with white and red lunar rays mingling cohesively to wash the
meadow and surrounding Vallen in a fiery pink glow as she made her way
toward the beckoning voice, her charcoaled gaze finally shifting from the
beautiful display upon her homeland to the vision that was her best friend
and confidant.

"We have visitors." The hushed whisper came out in a rush of excitement,
her eyes a sparkle of pinks and blues as they reflected the colorfully waned
light to further showcase the emotion that was given unchecked. A pair of
eyebrows rose inquisitively in an unspoken question and for the one known
formally as Gabrielaeyrn, more regularly as Gabriela and rather cheekily as
'Gabs' by her dearest friend Ra'brae, she applied patience and waited, knowing
that she would soon have an answer. She did not have to wait long. "Your
mother and great-grandmother sent me to find you, Gabs. Are you nervous?"

In truth, she was more nervous then she was willing to admit and the
internal turmoil that had been building within her for days, perhaps weeks
finally longed for release and bubbled to a lump forming within her throat
and causing a delay in any response she might give. Turning her head, she
looked back upon the curtain of moonlight tucking the meadow in for a long
nights rest, the soft song of the crickets lullaby striking up its soothing
strains to bring All within the meadowed glade to a peaceful slumber.

You are strong Gabriela. Resilient.

Those familiar words echoed in her head like an energizing mantra and with a
stilted smile, she turned away from the sanctuary she had enjoyed for so
many years, one that would not see her return for many more, back to the
friend that she loved like a sister. 'Of course not, Ra'brae.' With a subtle
transition of her treasured book to her opposite hand, her newly freed one
founds its way to intertwine with her friends crooked arm. "It will be just
like one of those grand adventure books we used to read, Brae!" The sound
of friendly laughter poured forth and in turn, reciprocated, spending the
next few minutes reminiscing with one another as they walked arm and arm
back into the thick underwood, the dark woods aglow with fireflies that
fluttered beneath the dense canopy overhead while soft balls of light
hovered just off the wooded pathway to provide light along the way. The
conversation paused as they reached their destination and without warning,
Gabriela found a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders, the unexpected
jolt and weight of Ra'brae nearly knocking the smaller girl over as she found
herself in the embrace of a strong hug.

"Im going to miss you, Gabs."

A well of overwhelming emotion sprang to the surface as her own arms circled
her best friend, a burning sting momentarily clouding her sight as her eyes
filled with unshed tears followed by the tremble of her lip as All words
seems to be choked from her throat. But before she could utter any of the
myriad of thoughts or responses that spun within her head, Ra'brae was gone
with nothing more than a final fierce squeeze and single escaping sob,
leaving Gabriela to turn and face the closed door before her, alone.




Writer: Velandris

Date Mon Sep 18 20:01:27 2017




Writer: Velandris

Date Mon Sep 18 20:05:46 2017




Writer: Ashtiel

Date Wed Sep 20 14:00:11 2017

To All Verminasia Imm Tashio Cayenna Ampersand Alasdair Storyline Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Prologue II


--*--

The wind howled like some melancholy beast and the closer the pair traveled
to the river, the colder it became until each bitter gust brought with it a
bit of inescapable discomfort. The river roared in response, though the
sound was muffled by the layer of ice that drifted on its surface to be
broken apart on the rocks that marked the bend where the river turned
southward towards the sea.

It was here that the King and Queen of Verminasia stopped to rest where the
land still afforded them an overlook of the crater and the snow laden ruins
that marked the rubble of Dae'tok. They settled amongst a few scattered
boulders near the river.

Telthian cleared the snow from one of these toppled stones and rested
himself upon it to study the ancient map he unrolled beside him.

Ashtiel perched herself next to him and drew the lute from her bag. While
it wasn't as familiar an instrument as the violin she had carried most of
her life, it was carved by her own hand and its smooth wooden surface was
etched with musical notations that faintly hummed with magic. Her slender
fingers plucked at the strings, drawing forth a haunting series of notes
that played in soft repetition until a single, wailing note echoed back,
resonating on the wind.

The skald paused to listen and made a few marks upon the map spread between
herself and the priest. 'There appears to be a relatively large gathering
of spirits here..
' Her fingers indicated a spot on the map as she spoke
and then lifted to gesture towards the icy tundra that spread out before
them.

'Their number would suggest a common area, such as a square or market place
or perhaps even a temple where many would have fled in panic when the end
drew near.
' Her mismatched gaze shifted from the map to the snow covered
landscape before she turned to Telthian to meet his pointed look with one of
her own. 'May not be a bad place to begin. '

They spent some time perusing the map and the landscape and discussing the
placement of the encampment for the others before deciding to continue on.
She repacked her instrument as Telthian gathered the map and the two set off
eastward away from the river in silence.

The shrill cry of the wind was joined momentarily by another eerie sound as
a single, long winded wolf's howl rose from somewhere amidst the ruins and
Ashtiel cast a faint grin at Telthian. 'Etehnu found something. '

--*--




Writer: Narisha

Date Fri Sep 22 18:03:51 2017




Writer: Terces

Date Sat Sep 23 10:20:01 2017




Writer: Xiaos

Date Sun Sep 24 21:37:50 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (I)


Xiaos sat quietly in the garden shrine, legs crossed and eyes closed.
The sounds of crows and ravens could be heard in the distance, ever watching
those few who found their way to this sacred ground. Xiaos took a deep
breath, and further attuned his senses to the surrounding environment. If
he hadn't done so, he probably would have missed the newcomer who was
attempting to quietly enter this sanctuary.

Xiaos smiled, a wicked grin that exposed two curved fangs that gleamed in
the moonlight. He opened his eyes, two pools of midnight, and trained his
gaze on the person before him. The man froze in his tracks for a moment,
like a rabbit sensing a predator. The man squinted, then visibly relaxed
when he recognized the bakali before him.

"You're getting better at that Iizohr," said Xiaos in a raspy voice.

"I wasn't s-s-sure I was in the right p-p-place. And thank you... I
g-g-guess," stammered Iizohr.

Noticing the man's discomfort, Xiaos waved a hand dismissively and said, "Be
at eassse sssir, no harm will befall you in thisss place while he isss in
your presssence."

Iizohr looked around nervously one more time. Xiaos nodded his snake-like
visage in assurance, and the man finally relaxed.

"Let's just get this over with," Iizohr said, a hint of annoyance in his
voice.

The grin that was on Xiaos' face was quickly replaced by a more serious
look. He glanced to the marble statue looming before him, and whispered a
silent prayer. He then turned his full attention to Iizohr and stared at
him intently. Iizohr visibly recoiled for the briefest of moments, then
regained his composure.

"You may wisssh to get comfortable Iizohr, we might be here for awhile,"
Xiaos hissed.

Iizohr swallowed hard, then adjusted the spectacles on his face. "Where
would you like to begin Archmagus," he said quietly with quill and parchment
in hand.

"The beginning," Xiaos stated resolutely.




Writer: Xiaos

Date Sun Sep 24 23:21:51 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (II)


Iizohr dipped his quill into and inkwell, then carefully held it above
the empty parchment so as not to spill anything on it. He looked up at
Xiaos, and the bakali was still staring at him intently.

"When you are ready Archmagus," Iizohr stated plainly.

Xiaos pondered quietly for a moment. It has been quite some time since he
had thought about those days, and he couldn't help but let his mind
reminisce. Those had been carefree days, the days of his youth. His mouth
started to part in a smile when he was interrupted by a loud cough. Pulled
back to the present, Xiaos glared at Iizohr.

"P-p-pardon Archmagus, my throat is a bit... P-p-parched," Iizohr blurted
out.

Xiaos clenched his powerful jaws ever so slightly, then relaxed. The action
was not lost on Iizohr, as he nervously drank from a decanter of water and
re-arranged the glasses on his face. Xiaos grinned as he made a mental note
of this sign of weakness, and remained silent.

"Archmagus?" Iizohr asked quietly.

"Forgive him sssir... He wasss... Gathering hisss thoughtssss," Xiaos
responded, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

And then Xiaos began to recount his earlier days. He told Iizohr of his
first foray as an assassin. He shared the story of how he once sought
entrance to the Towers as a Guardian in those times. Xiaos proudly shared
with Iizohr of the time he was visited by a messenger of the Mistress, and
how that messenger helped set him on the path of studying magick. Iizohr
was writing frantically, trying to keep up with the tale. He then paused,
and look up at Xiaos with questioning eyes.

"Why give up your profession... One you thoroughly enjoyed, to study with
some mages?" Iizohr asked.

Xiaos answered the question without hesitation. "To underssstand Her
Chosssen and what She truly ssstandsss for, you mussst walk with Her
Chosen."

Iizohr pondered on that thought for a moment, then nodded slightly. He
dipped his quill into the inkwell again, and proceeded to write a few more
notes. Xiaos watched him carefully slide the quill over the parchment,
forming words and sentences in a flowing style. Xiaos couldn't help but
remember his days of practicing scrollwork in the bowels of Her Tower. How
appropriate he mused.




Writer: Faythe

Date Mon Sep 25 17:45:01 2017




Writer: Faythe

Date Mon Sep 25 18:08:30 2017




Writer: Xiaos
Date Mon Sep 25 22:02:04 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (III)


Xiaos waited patiently for Iizohr to finish writing. A few moments
passed, and the scribe looked up slowly. The man looked thoughtful, and
Xiaos matched his gaze. The two sat deadlocked in this position for quite
some time, and then Iizohr finally broke the silence.

"Tell me about your early days in the Towers," Iizohr said.

Xiaos did not answer right away, and it was clear he was composing his
thoughts. Honestly, it had been so long since those days, that at first his
memories were a bit unclear. He focused on the swirling images in his mind,
and slowly but surely their stories unfolded before him.

"Those were difficult daysss..." Xiaos uttered, pausing for dramatic
effect. "Nothing came easssy to him," he added.

Iizohr took a few notes and Xiaos continued, "There wasss very little
precedent for one of hisss kind to ssstudy magick in the Towersss. There
had perhapsss been a few before him, but All but one found little
sssuccesss, and even that one hasss disssappeared," he said, a hint of
disappointment in his voice.

Iizohr looked up from his writing and pushed his glasses back up his nose.
"And who was this other bakali, if I might pry?" He asked somewhat
hesitantly.

"Hisss name wasss Chevald," Xiaos responded without delay. "He wasss a
member of the Crimssson Tower, and much like himssself, he had worked hisss
way up the ranksss and earned hisss right to advanced magicksss. After a
time, he left the Towersss and learned the waysss of the Assasssin.
Ultimately he earned the mantle of Guardian, and over time he faded into
obssscurity," Xiaos concluded, his voice almost a whisper.

Iizohr furrowed his brows a moment, and looked as if he wanted to ask a
question. Xiaos noticed the facial expression, and responded with a soft
hissing sound of his own.

"Asssk your quessstion," Xiaos rasped.

Iizohr adjusted the glasses on his face once again, and wiped a bead of
sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. "H-h-how can you be
s-s-sure that history won't repeat itself," he quickly blurted out.

A look of annoyance quickly flashed onto the face of Xiaos, but just as
quickly it was replaced by a look of sheer determination. "Failure isss not
an option. The Missstresss doess not allow it," was All he said in
response.




Writer: Xiaos

Date Wed Sep 27 22:22:09 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (IV)


Iizohr looked taken aback by the abrupt show of emotion and the stoic
response. Xiaos waved his clawed hand dismissively, and attempted to steer
the conversation back on topic.

"You had asssked about hisss early daysss, and he didn't really anssswer you
before," Xiaos hissed.

Iizohr relaxed a bit and dipped his quill to get some fresh ink. "I didn't
mean to pry, it was more of a curiosity. But if you wish to answer then he
would appreciate it," Iizohr replied.

"From the very beginning, he wasss expected to fail. And to be fair, that
wasssn't too far off from the truth. At leassst at firssst," Xiaos said
somewhat sullenly.

Iizohr furiously took notes while Xiaos continued. "The sssimplessst of
cantripsss were a ssstruggle for him. It took him many moonsss to finally
massster the basssic magicksss. And even when he did massster a ssspell, it
wasssn't asss powerful asss othersss that were learning bessside him," Xiaos
said quietly.

Xiaos paused a moment to let the scribe catch up to him. "He quickly fell
behind the other ssstudentsss. It jussst wasssn't natural for him like it
wasss for the othersss. Many timesss he thought about giving up," Xiaos
said grimly.

Iizohr scribbled a few more notes and looked up at Xiaos. The bakali seemed
to be lost in his thoughts, reliving those troubled days in his head.
Wanting to keep the conversation moving, Iizohr spoke up, dragging Xiaos
from his musings.

"Clearly you found a way to get past All of this," Iizohr stated obviously.

An evil grin crept onto Xiaos' face. He responded with a single word,
"Perseverance."

Xiaos let that sink in for a moment, then spoke again. "While he wasssn't
the mosst adept at magick initially, he had other.... Asssetsss.
Physssically, he wasss fassster and more powerful than mossst. He learned
to play to hisss strengthss, and sssubdue hisss weaknesssesss."

Xiaos clenched and unclenched his fist. "Eventually, he proved hisss worth
and wasss granted the title of Magusss. It wasss a gloriousss day, and he
wasss truly honored. He ssstarted working toward gaining advanced magicks,
when adversssity reared itsss ugly head again," he hisssed.

Iizohr looked intrigued, and Xiaos gave him the answer to his unspoken
question. "The Towersss require a Magusss to complete tasksss from each of
the Wizardsss before gaining the advanced booksss. These testsss were not
for the faint of heart. And unfortunately, the Conclave wasss contending
with leaderssship changesss at the time."

After a brief pause, Xiaos finished his thought. "At long lassst, under the
guidance of the Wizard Ssselonisss, he achieved hisss goal. The advanced
booksss were granted to him."

Iizohr arched an eyebrow. "The Vampire?" He asked, a bit of contempt
leaking through to his words.

"The sssame," Xiaos rapsed.

Iizohr was about to respond but Xiaos cut him off. "The uproar over the
Vampiresss in the Conclave wasss nothing but a power ssstruggle.
Honessstly, he could care lesss about All of that. So long asss they
ssserved the Missstresss and fulfilled Her wissshes."

Iizohr was about to respond, then thought better of it. Xiaos hissed
softly. "It isss clear you don't agree, and thisss isss fine. Many find it
difficult to overlook their persssonal beliefsss when it comesss to
mattersss sssuch asss thessse. But asss membersss of the Conclave, that
isss exactly what we mussst do. Magick above all, no matter what."

Iizohr pondered that thought for a moment, then nodded once. The scribe
took a few notes, then set his quill down. "It appears I have run out of
parchment, perhaps we can continue this another time?" Iizohr inquired.

"Gladly," Xioas responded.




Writer: Xiaos

Date Fri Sep 29 21:41:59 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (V)


Iizohr slowly crept into the garden shrine. Now that he had fetched some
new parchment, he was to meet the bakali here again. The first time he had
come here, he hadn't really taken in his surroundings, but he did so now.
There was an eerie beauty to this place, the way that nature had melded with
the few structures that were present. The marble statue that loomed over
the garden was both magnificent and haunting at the same time. But the
thing that unnerved him the most were the crows and the ravens. They were
clearly unnatural, as they were much larger than they should be. As he
walked through the gardens, Iizohr could feel them staring at him. Their
gaze was almost threatening, as if they knew he didn't really belong here.
The hairs started to raise on his arms, and an uncontrollable shiver went up
his spine.

"Back sssso sssoon Iizohr," Xiaos whispered in the scribe's ear.

Iizohr almost jumped out of his skin, and he dropped the parchment that he
had been holding in his hands. Xiaos chuckled softly as he watched the man
hastily pick up the scattered papers. Looking mildly annoyed now, Iizohr
turned to Xiaos and adjusted the glasses on his nose.

"Shall we continue now?" Iizohr said a bit too loudly.

Xiaos grinned evilly, exposing his long, curved fangs. "At your leisssure
Iizohr."

Iizohr settled himself, and dipped his quill into the ink. "Now... Where
were we again?" He inquired.

Xiaos tapped his claws fingers together for a moment, and then he continued
to tell his tale. "Thingsss got a bit eassier after he had earned hisss new
booksss. He ssstill worked very hard, but the magick came to him much more
naturally now. He actually ssstarted feeling like he truly belonged in the
Towersss."

Iizohr took some notes as Xiaos kept talking. "It wasss not long before the
Ssselonisss rewarded him for hisss dedication. The Wizard granted him with
the rank of Archmagusss," he stated proudly.

Iizohr stopped writing for a moment, a quizzical look on his face.
"P-p-pardon me, b-b-but I am unfamiliar with the rank structure in the
Towers," he said apologetically.

Xiaos was quick to respond. "It isss a rank afforded to thossse that are
allowed to interview and allow entrance for new ssstudentsss. Sssomething
that he would come to enjoy quite thoroughly."

Iizohr nodded solemnly. "Quite the honor for one of your kind," he stated.

Xiaos narrowed his eyes slightly. "Quite an honor for anyone," he quickly
corrected.

Iizohr held up a hand, acknowledging his blunder. "I met no disrespect
s-s-sir," he said nervously.

"Don't let it happen again," Xiaos threatened.




Writer: Xiaos

Date Sat Sep 30 22:35:00 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (VI)


Iizohr and Xiaos were both silent for a moment, and the tension was thick
in the air. Iizohr briefly looked around him, as if looking for a quick
exit if needed. The action was not lost on Xiaos, and he sighed softly.

"You will have to forgive hisss... Temper," Xiaos hissed. "He takesss
thessse mattersss very ssseriously," he added.

Iizohr relaxed a bit. "The fault was mine, really," Iizohr replied.

Xiaos nodded solemnly. "What elssse would you like to know?" He asked.

Iizohr pondered that for a moment, as he dipped his quill into the ink.
Finally, a question came to his mind. "Which magi apprenticed underneath
you? I am assuming that you taught a few of them," he concluded.

Xiaos smiled, remembering back on those days. "He taught quite a few of
them, yesss," he said fondly.

Iizohr wanted to push him for more details. "Anyone that would you care to
mention?" He pried.

"If you wisssh sssir," Xiaos quipped. "Let usss ssseee, who to begin
with..." Xiaos hissed softly.

Iizohr looked on expectantly. "There are ssso many, but he will tell you
about a few," Xiaos finally replied.

"Oridan wasss one of hisss earlier apprenticesss. The dark elf wasss a very
quick ssstudy, and he had sssome very interesssting ideasss. He also made
quite a name for himself in the Algoron Gladiator League. Not an extremely
lengthy resssume there, but sssuccessful nonethelesss. He did enjoy
watching that one fight," Xiaos said.

"I saw him beat the current World Champion," Iizohr stated.

"It wasss hisss firssst fight at that," Xiaos replied.

Iizohr scribbled a few notes, and Xiaos continued on. "Another he taught
wasss one called Koussshuiren, a hobgoblin. Thisss wasss probably one of
the brightessst ssstudentsss he ever had. Sssadly, once it completed itsss
training of Invocation, it disssappeared," Xiaos said with disappointment in
his voice.

Xiaos took a drink from his decanter, then spoke again. "There wasss
another hobgoblin he taught, one called Herne. Thisss one wasss probably
the hardessst working ssstudent he had ever witnesssed. Alssso very
thorough, almosss to a fault. He learned the artsss of battlemagick, and
rossse up the ranksss quite quickly. He was even the Wizard for a ssshort
time," Xiaos said.

Iizohr continued writing furiously. "And lassst, but certainly not leassst,
wasss the yinn known asss Rasssavadi," Xiaos rasped. "Perhapsss you have
heard of him, yesss?"

That made Iizohr pause and look up. "You taught the current Master of the
Conclave?" He asked.

"Taught isssn't probably the bessst word for that one, but he did guide him
a bit," Xiaos said with and evil grin on his face. "He knew that one wasss
dessstined for sssomething great early on, it wasss obviousss. And now he
ssservesss him without question," Xiaos said matter of factly.

Iizohr made a few more notes, then set his quill down. "Quite the little
resume you got their yourself," he said.

Xiaos waved a hand dismissively. "Thossse of the Missstress will ssseek
power, and they oftentimesss find it deep within themselvesss, mossstly on
their own. He jussst helped them get on the right path," Xiaos said.





Writer: Euterah

Date Sun Oct 1 23:13:26 2017

To Darkonin All Vershae ( Imm )

Subject We Woke



She forced her eyes to open and the world was All a tilt. She raised her
head, blurry gaze focusing. Healing, that is what she sought, some inner
strength that she lacked. That is why she had come to the Tower of Juju. A
spider scuttled over her wasted, bony hand and she shook her white gold
locks which loosed a miasma of dust about her.

The Tower of Juju, the window spilled the last licks of sunlight off the
mountain, prisms of color wheeled against the opposite wall, a shelf of
cloudy bottles sparkled with sudden impertinence. How dare she sleep so
long, the gleam implied, how utterly weak. She coughed, a plume of
detriment exhaled from her and she choked, coughing fitfully. How long had
she remained resting at the table in the Tower? Her fingernails raked
against the tabletop, leaving trails in a film of filth, the motion causing
wracking coughing and choking. It seemed her lungs would not properly work.
She sat up straighter in the chair and rolled her shoulders back, holding
her breath. Her blood thrummed in her ears. She waited, steadying herself,
holding her breath.

The urge to cough subsided, her heartbeat calmed, she exhaled nothing but
air.

It took her a while to remember who she was and what she was about.

The Witch Queen of the Mountain rose from her seat, walking with a stiff
gait to look out the window over Darkonin proper. The city appeared as she
had left it, indeed it was the sun setting in the west. Perhaps, the Witch
thought, it has only been a matter of hours.

She flexed her fingers and stretched much like a cat.




Writer: Relbag
Date Mon Oct 2 21:20:46 2017




Writer: Relbag
Date Mon Oct 2 21:58:56 2017




Writer: Euterah
Date Tue Oct 3 21:12:48 2017

To Darkonin All ( Imm )

Subject The Cat



I want to be called Spark now. No. Strike. Mmm, Spitz. The Cat
thought as It licked across Its black back. Who wants to be Slack. It
stretched. I am nothing slack. I am Spark. I am Strike. I am Spitz. I
am invention and ingenious and parkour. I have every right to do as I
please and the Her that Witch.

Here the Cat paused, ears twitching back as It moved to Its feet in one sly
motion, slinking into a deeper shadow. Satisfied It was not being tracked
the Cat resumed grooming. Slack, what a slothful name, Cat was anything
but.

But.

Yet.

The Witch.

Something would have to be done to make this time with her more palpable.
What would a Dragon do?




Writer: Xiaos
Date Tue Oct 3 22:24:32 2017

To All Conclave Imm Rp

Subject Path of the Guardian (VII)


Iizohr pondered that last statement for a moment while looking over the
parchments before him. He had taken a lot of notes up until this point, but
there was more he wanted to know. It wasn't every day he had an opportunity
to interview one like this.

"When did you decide to take up the path of the guardian?" Iizohr finally
asked.

Xiaos smiled briefly. He had been waiting for this question from the very
beginning. "It actually wasss a very hard decisssion. He had grown
accussstomed to hisss new way of life. The power afforded to him by the
Missstresss wasss tremendousss. He had a place to finally call home, and
hisss life had purpossse," Xiaos said resolutely.

"Many would not be willing to give up All of that," Iizohr replied.

Xiaos nodded slowly. "For a time it never crosssed hisss mind. Life wasss
good. But after awhile, thessse thoughtsss ssstarting creeping into hisss
mind. At firssst they were sssporadic. He mossstly disssregarded them asss
simple nossstalgia. But then they grew in frequency. Eventually, thessse
thoughtsss overtook hisss entire conciousssnesss," Xiaos said.

Iizohr needed more specifics. "What specifically were these thoughts, if he
might ask?" Iizohr questioned.

Xiaos answered without hesitation. "Mainly, he thought on the teachingsss
of the Mistresss. Ssseek power where it can be found, and claim it for
yourssself. Be in a conssstant ssstate of improvement, and you ssshall
pleassse Her. Take what you want. In Her Grace All ssshall be in your
meanssss to possess. The only obstacle is yourssself. Jussst to name a
few," he said.

Iizohr looked at Xiaos with a slight look of confusion on his face. It was
clear that he didn't understand the correlation of these tenets to Xiaos'
situation, so the bakali indulged him. "Ultimately, he felt like he had
reached a certain plateau wielding the dark magicksss. The power wasss
great, yesss, but he yearned for more. Ssso much more. And though he had
worked very hard to get to where he wasss, and he knew he would have to give
it All up, the answer wasss very sssimple. To reach new heightsss of power
he mussst assscend," Xiaos declared.

"I am not familiar with how Guardianship works," Iizohr admitted.

"No one really doessss. It isss not sssomething that isss attempted often,
and even lesss are successsful. Once hisss mind wasss made up, he made
hisss intent known to the Council of the Conclave, and they gave him their
blesssing to begin the processs. And here we are," Xiaos said with a slight
smile on his face.

"So what's next?" Iizohr inquired.

"Whatever it takes," Xiaos said decisively.




Writer: Gabriela

Date Wed Oct 4 18:37:38 2017

To Shalonesti Juelian All Rp

Subject A Change of Seasons



The hum of elven activity filled the air, disrupting the natural sounds
that typically coveted this time of night and with a brief sweep of her
surroundings, she recognized that she was not entirely alone, though not yet
noticed with only moments before that changed. A swift swipe of her eyes
erased any moisture that lingered on her dark lashes and the drawn in deep
and cleansing breath in through her nose and out through her mouth - brought
her back into focus and re-composed, the ramrod finding its way back into
her spine as she straightened to her full height.

It was one from the Kyorl who was the first to catch sight of her as she
made her way forward, bestowing a respectful bow upon her that still allowed
his keen eyes to look past and roam for any hidden danger as he reached for
and opened the nearby door with practiced efficiency. "Gabrielaeyrn. "
With a gifted smile, she passed through the yawning entrance without
hesitation, her head held high with her regal crown of long silver locks
cascading down the length of her back, shimmering beneath the fire and
moonlight before the door closed shut behind her.

Making her way to the great hall found more than her typical family of elves
gathered, a steady hum of bustling activity radiated All around her as each
went about their own tasks and preparations with purposeful efficiency.
Rabrae was right, visitors had certainly arrived and from the looks of it,
they stood at the heart of the halls lively busyness just as certainly as
they stood in the middle of the room itself. Two pair of eyes shifted at
her entrance to look upon her with their full attention, the tall,
silver-haired elf closest to her showcasing a deep, blue pair filled with
checked curiosity though it was the pair standing on the far side of him
that stole her breath away, catching deep in her throat as her stormy gray
eyes meshed with vivid green ones, eyes that pierced through her soul yet
held a gentle patience that she knew with loving adoration. In mere
moments, the years fell away and she was a young child once more, learned
patience and guarded emotion evaporating into a carefree spirit that was
oblivious to All but the man before her. She rushed forward without
hesitation, her voice projecting one singular emotion as she threw herself
into a pair of waiting arms, finding a comfort in their circling embrace
that she could find with no other. "Papa! "

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Feeling the tug at her heartstrings, her head turned for one last time to
cast a steady gaze around as she made a thorough scan of her surroundings,
the assessment not so much as to ensure nothing had been missed in their
packing but to commit every nook, every color, every evoked feeling to
memory so it would not fade with time and distance. It would All be missed
but even more would be her gladed sanctuary that never passed judgment, her
best friend, Rabrae who was her confidant and oftentimes, especially in
their younger years, her partner in crime and of course, her teacher, mentor
and one of the two woman who shaped her, her great-grandmother that had been
her lode stone and the voice that echoed in her head...

Feeling the soft squeeze of her mothers hand as it circled hers, she
swallowed against the lump of emotion within her throat and choked it back,
finding strength from her mothers silent support as Gabriela knew that she
was feeling every emotion as keenly as her daughter. The soft touch of a
loving palm came to rest upon the crown of her head, the gentle stroke meant
to be as soothing as the softly spoken words that followed. "Gather your
satchel, Gabriela, it is time for us to go home."




Writer: Raziel

Date Thu Oct 5 10:55:55 2017




Writer: Verdemar

Date Sun Oct 8 11:35:09 2017

To All Shadow ( Imm Necrucifer )

Subject The Stirring, pt 1



There was a stirring.

Something called to him from beyond the pale, an immense weight settled atop
his chest.

It woke him from a long slumber, pressure mounting on his lungs until it
felt like he might never breathe again.

Eyes open, he could see but not move, and dark shapes filtered hazily into
view, their figures All smoke without substance.

Panic gnawed at his heart as the pressure mounted, and in the doorway he saw
a small figure, hunched against the doorway, its head impossibly twisted in
against its own chest. A dark laughter filled the room, somewhere between a
wheeze and a cackle, as though the stunted beast's lungs were punctured and
what air escaped its mouth came at the cost of wasted oxygen.

The man sought to struggle, his shoulders tensing, muscles gained from long
hours training for combat cording and bunching. The creature sauntered
closer, its legs rising inconceivably high before it dropped to its knuckles
in an odd display of creeping fear.

The words rang in his ears; his own words. He could hear them in the voice
he had spoken them in so long ago, standing with unnecessary pride before an
altar of black, polished marble, naked as the day he was born.

"Submit or die. "

Papers on the desk by his bedside began to flip, stirred by a wind that
picked up from nowhere, and the sinister being creeping towards him laughed
again, its voice a cacophony of fear and power.

It no longer walked towards him, and the reason for the pressure in his
chest was made clear. Saliva dropped to the man's cheek as he stared
wide-eyed up into the face of a creature engineered to strike dismay into
whomever it encountered. Straddling his chest, the beast licked its lips, a
too-black tongue slithering across lips long-ago cracked past the point of
bleeding. Its maw was hopelessly devoid of colour, save the sickly green of
its teeth, rotted and broken, fuzzy with mould. Fetid breath washed over
the man's face, smelling of the sort of damp places your mother warned you
not to enter as a child.

The words came again, carried on the same winds rifling through his papers,
washing away the stench of the beast's breath and tugging at his heart.
Louder, resonating within his head like a gong struck too hard.

"Submit or die. "

He found himself gripped still in fear eyes taking in the yellowed claws of
the disgusting little thing sitting atop him, its pus-spewing wounds too
numerous to count, the cavities lining its chest letting him see through to
the darkest reaches of its organs, which were placed in ways doctors would
describe as not medically possible. The twisted nature of its jagged,
broken ribs glittered in the candlelight.

It leaned in closer, bringing its face closer to his as breathing in deeply.
He watched its lungs inflate near to bursting within its chest, and it
sighed in contented pleasure, as if feeding on the fear and dismay in the
newly woken man's psyche.

There was a crashing sound, somewhere in the distance, then another. They
grew in volume, as though something was coming closer. The thing upon his
chest began to open its mouth, stretching its jaws to the point of breaking
before him, wider and wider still.

His door blew open with a ferocity unrivalled by anything the man had seen
thus far, and the winds were raging around him. Strands of his hair blew
this way and that, and the papers by his bedside were strewn across the
room. The voice, his voice, was there again, booming within his mind at a
volume that refused to be ignored. He felt it in every bone of his body, an
imperative he had heard only once before, demanding he explain his worth to
the cause. His ears bled from the power contained within.






Writer: Verdemar

Date Sun Oct 8 11:36:02 2017

To All Shadow ( Imm Necrucifer )

Subject The Stirring, pt 2



"SUBMIT OR DIE. "

And Verdemar did. Once taut muscles fell still, his eyes ceasing their
wide, fearful roving. The monster sitting astride his chest leaned closer
and ate him head first, its jaw distended long past the point of
dislocation. Its soft, largely molded teeth had more power to them than he
had imagined, and as he disappeared into the maw of this creature, he felt
them tearing at his flesh, fresh strips of powerful meat ripped from the
bone as though flayed. Darkness before him, and darkness behind.

There was a stirring. Verdemar woke with a start, covered in a damp sweat.
His door stood wide open, and in the hallway outside, a single sheet of
paper hung, suspended from the wall by a bone-hilted dagger he had been
given long ago. The words were freshly written, their red dripping still, a
viscous liquid he had no problems guessing the origins of.

"You are needed. "

It was time to return to the Keep.




Writer: Mahazi

Date Mon Oct 9 19:26:53 2017

To Catroina Abaddon All RP

Subject Volunteer (Part 1)



Walking down to the jail, Mahazi takes the list of prisoners from the
head guard. The list containing names and their crimes was just what he
needed for the task the Highlord gave him. Find prisoners to send to
Abaddon for a ceremony. Easy enough. It seems the increased patrols by the
guards are cutting down on prisoners. The threat of the shades has helped
with that at least.

Sitting at a guards desk, Mahazi started to scan the list for crimes.
Knowing that the volunteers more than likely would not be coming back, he
looks for crimes that deserve the death penalty. The Silversorrow brothers,
they will be perfect. He said to himself. Remembering when he took ten
guards with him to apprehend them, a slight smile forms on his face. Going
back to the list, he wanted to get it done so he could join the Purgatory
Keep raid. Aye, ten prisoners should be enough. After returning the
original list to the head guard on duty, Mahazi searches out the Highlord to
get his approval of the chosen prisoners.




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Oct 10 00:35:42 2017

To Marauders Abaddon Mahazi All RP

Subject Interrogation of the seven



Walking up to the guards he flashes a piece of paper to them. With a
huff the guard on duty examines the paper before turning back to the other
with a nod. The guards unlock the door leading into the prison and the
Private walks through without hesitation, All the a grin that looks half
mischevious, half evil stays firmly planted on his face. He marches along
the corridor silently, watching the cells with a careful eye before looking
back down to the list. In a flash he's at the first cell, the Marauder
Guard on duty studies him with a careful eye before a quiet question is
asked. The Marauder Guard simply points at the man in the first cell and
unlocks the door.

The Private steps through and nods and the guard closes and locks the door.
The Private asks in a calm voice, 'Do you know why I'm here? '. The man
nods up and down quickly, looking up at the Private with a careful yet
cautious eyes. The Private asks, 'Is your name Kramnam Dirgeriver? '. The
man nods quickly, looking as if he was about to cry. The Private continues,
'You are obviosuly a male, I don't believe I'll need to strip you to see
that. ' The man falls down to his knees and looks up the the ceiling in an
attempt to say a prayer. The Private cuts him off by saying, 'Now, you'll
have several options, and depending on which options you choose things will
either be easier for you, or harder. Now, nod once if you understand. '.
The man nods once quickly before looking back down at the Private.
'Firstly, I want you to tell me if you're scared, then I would like to know
the city you were born in. '

In a weepy tone Kramnam says, 'Of course sir, I am afraid, I am in these
cells away from my hom... '. With a quick hand the Private slaps the man
across the face with his backhand, grinning the whole time. The man shrieks
at the sudden pain, falling forward attempting to clutch his face. The
Private grabs the back of his head and yanks it upwards, the grin looking
evil and menacing.

'One should face their fears directly. Now WHERE WERE YOU BORN! '. The
Privates demeanor changing quickly, going from calm to menacing in an
instant.

The man begins sobbing at the sudden aggression from the Private and chokes
out, 'New... Thalos... I'm from New Thalos. '. The Private lets go of
the mans hair and smirks turning around quickly motioning to the Guard to
let him go through. Moving quickly he approaches the second cell, a much
younger looking man rests inside. Without motioning the Guard quickly
unlocks the cell and allows the Private to walk through. The Private
studies the young man and paces back and forth. The young man looks up and
spits at the Private.

'You'll burn one of these days, Marauder! ' He tries to spit at the Private
again but is met with a resounding fist to the nose. The cartilage in his
nose cracking under the weight of the punch. The Private grabs the man by
his neck and brings his head up, his eyes, like daggers.

'One that meets his fear directly, it seems. ' The Private throws the man
onto the ground and steps over to him quickly, placing his boot on the mans
hip he begins to step down. 'You seem to have thought I was some sort of...
Pushover due to the covnersation with the last man. '. The Private steps
down with All his weight pushing the man down and flat on his back. He
continues, 'Guard, fetch me a cleric, this one may need healing if he isn't
careful. '. The young man groans his hands presses to his nose attempting
to stop the bleeding. 'Now, I'll assume your name is Chappell Dryden, now
seeing as you've already proven that you'd face your fears up front, tell me
where you're from. '




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Oct 10 00:42:46 2017

To Marauders Abaddon Mahazi All RP

Subject Interrogation of the seven pt.2



The young man groans his hands presses to his nose attempting to stop the
bleeding. 'Now, I'll assume your name is Chappell Dryden, now seeing as
you've already proven that you'd face your fears up front, tell me where
you're from. '

'Wouldn't you like to know, blasted Marauder! ' Chappell grimmaces as he
anticipates another blow. The Private kneels down and grabs him by his
tunic, lifting him up and slamming him back down on the ground hard.

'Where were you born. ' The Private repeats the phrase lifting Chappell up
off the ground again, blood from his nose falling faster off his face and
onto the ground.

'Filthy Marauder scum! '. He shrieks again before being slammed back onto
the ground. The Private drags him off the floor and up onto the wall
staring at him, his eyes locked onto Chappells.

Last time before this gets mean. Where were you born. '.

'Stop, stop, I was born in Arkane, please just stop. '. The Private
grimaces and punches him in the gut once, letting the man drop to his knees
and fall over into a bloody mess. The Private quickly reaches the front of
the cell, being let through quickly. The Private approaches the next cell
looking down at his list and looks into the cell, an elven man who looks
young to the Private but is unable to determine his exact age. He continues
down to the next cell and looks in, another elven man, looking similar to
the first.

'Family. '. The Private grumbles and looks at the brothers one more time
before deciding to pick what appeared to be the younger of the pair. The
guard quickly unlocks the cell on the opposite edge of them and goes in.
'You, whats the relation between you and the elf In the next cell. '

In a voice that rings like a bell, 'That is my brother, why do you ask,
Human. '

'Simply to avoid making your brother hurt more than I'll make you if you
don't answer my questions. '.

'If you want to know if I feel fear, then no, I do not. '

'Then you should know the next question at least, and what will happen if
you're answer wont suffice. '.

'I see. My Brother and I are both from the Shokono Kingdom, will that
suffice for your questions for the both of us? ' The Private grunts in
response and heads towards the exit. 'Wait, Marauder do you know what is to
be done with us? '

'No, I do not. I'm following orders, now shut up or take a beating. '. He
leaves the cell with quick feet, passing by the next cell, the brother
looking down and looking back up. 'Now, clarify something for me, Elf. You
are which of the brothers? '.

His voice slightly deeper, but with the same pearlesant ring, 'I am the
older brother, Lodaras Silversorrow. The one in the cell next to me is
Yataeth. I can confirm that we are both from Shokono Kingdom. ' The
Private nods, jotting down the infromation he learned on a seperate sheet of
paper. Continuing on to the next cell he sees a small figure, hunched into
a corner looking rather repulsed.

The Private shouts, 'OI, YOU THERE, GET UP. I know you've been listening.
Give me your name and your place of birth and we can both go on our ways. '




Writer: Maccus
Date Tue Oct 10 00:46:54 2017

To Marauders Abaddon Mahazi All RP

Subject Interrogation of the seven pt. 3 (finale)



The gnome jumps up and quickly shouts in a smooth voice, 'I'm innocent,
I'm tellin ya, names Talkiarn Tosslesprocket, from Gahboom Hill, pleas e ya
gotta let me out of here! '. The Private jots down the information once
again before walking away from the cell. Talkiarn shouts, 'Please mister,
you gotta believe me, I really gotta get out of here! '. The guard knocks
him off the cell door with a quick flash of his blade before noding to the
Private. The Private looked on to see only two guards left infront of
cells, but something was different about them. Each cell was over three
times as big as the last. He continued down and looked into each cell
seeing a Centaur and a Yinn in each. The Private stops for a moment,
thinking about his next course of action.

He shouts at the two cells, 'Now, you both are much bigger than the previous
people I've questioned. Lets make this easy on ourselves and finish this
quickly. '. He continues on but more to the direction of the Yinn, 'I know
your race is proud, but please answer the question quickly. '

The Centaur woman jumps in quickly, 'Althainia, please just leave me alone!
'.

The Yinn growls shaking its big head before saying, 'Icewall... '.

The Private nods jotting the infromation down, 'Now, please tell me your
names, I would like to verify that as well please. '.

The Yinn growling once more, 'Seong-Jie BranMir'.

The centaur woman, in a sad tone, 'Didionk Springstrop. '

The Private looks down at the list given to him and nods stating, 'Now, pray
to your gods for forgiveness and attonement for your crimes. '. He begins
walking towards the exit, blood covering his fists. Some of the prisoners
begin sobbing, others remain staring at the ceilng, uncertain of their fate.




Writer: Telthian
Date Tue Oct 10 21:35:29 2017

To All Verminasia immortal Tashio Cayenna Ampersand Storyline Necrucifer

Subject Lost City - Prologue III - Offerings


--*--

They followed Etehnu's howl across the tundra until they reached an old
road, uneven and crumbling from the quakes that shifted and rearranged the
terrain many years ago. Ahead, what remained of several structures jutted
up from the drifts, like the ribs of some carcass. Several were toppled to
all but a few feet above the foundations, appearing like little more than a
stone wall set with a window. Their positioning was precise, giving the
impression of a planned settlement. As they approached, beneath the snow
and rubble, the ruins began to resemble what may have been homes or
storefronts and a modest town square.

Steeling themselves against the biting cold, the skald and priest passed
beneath a crumbling arch and down what remained of an alley. The massive
dire wolf trotted into view, frost clinging to Etehnu's coat as he
approached the elf. The dire wolf lowered his head, his jaws releasing his
newly found prize to fall to the snow before Ashtiel. The limb was large, a
heavy pauldron of castle-forged steel still clung defiantly to the upper
shoulder, and the dark fur was slick with a mix of frozen blood and the dire
wolf's saliva.

Ashtiel and Telthian shared a momentary glance before the elf swept her
gloved hand across the broad snout of her childhood companion in a gesture
of praise.

'Show us, Etehnu. '

No further instruction was needed and the massive wolf turned to break into
a trot, hind paws stepping precisely in the tracks left by his forelegs as
he led a path through the ruins.

To call it a grave would have been generous. The bodies were not so much as
buried but arranged. The remains of several dismembered yinn littered the
courtyard of a crumbling manor, framed in by the low stone walls. Beside
them Ethenu froze, hackles raised as Ashtiel and Telthian looked upon the
wolf's find. Limbs, entrails, vertebrae, and skulls of the fallen yinn were
arranged in geometric shapes so extensive that a single step threatened to
disturb it.

At its center sat the caretaker of the effigy, a hunched figure with
elongated, misshapen limbs covered in a mixture of frozen blood, filth, and
matted fur. The remains of a chainmail hauberk clung to the twisted yinn,
the links rattling as the ghul shifted and turned its deformed visage toward
the intruders. Contorting its body, the yinn scuttled towards them on all
fours with malicious intent.

Waves of ethereal frost preceded its advance, the already frigid temperature
dropping rapidly as the ghul slashed at Ashtiel with its elongated,
claw-like hand. Her reflexes took over, hardened by the fires of battle,
nimbly twisting out of harms way. In a balletic motion, Ashtiel whipped her
sword from its scabbard and delivered a lethal counter-riposte to the yinn's
throat, rending soiled chain and blighted flesh.

Black, coagulated ichor spilled forth in thick cascades, washing over the
ruined hauberk. For the living, mortality would have been clarified in that
single decisive strike. But the grotesque abomination lurched forward,
unflinching, uncaring. Ashtiel pivoted, her boots scraping the stone of the
courtyard as she danced backward from the yinn to cast a sidelong glance at
the dark priest.

--*--




Writer: Velok

Date Wed Oct 11 17:31:34 2017




Writer: Mahazi

Date Thu Oct 12 12:25:16 2017

To Catoina All RP IMM

Subject Prisoner Transfer (Part 2)



Sitting at the bar in the Dominion, speaking with his father, the
Highlord Mezlak, Commander Mahazi received word that the drop off was going
to be pushed up. "Tonight then, I will be taking the prisoners to Tropica.
The Eidolon will meet me at the docks at dusk." He said the Mezlak. The
Highlord agreed to accompany Mahazi, maybe to spend time with his son, maybe
to watch how he conducted business, one can not be too sure.

Finishing his drink, Mahazi found the nearest guard and ordered him to get
the prisoners ready for transport. "Gather the prisoners, and get the honor
guard ready as well. We leave for Tropica, and the Highlord is coming with
us." With the order, the guard saluted and set off at a run. The guards
know what to do, chain them together in a line, and get the m to the docks.
Time is not on our side. Mahazi worried about the extra guards that were
going to be joining, not wanting to leave the Fort short handed in case an
attack came from the Shades. But protecting the Highlord is just as
important.

The Cutlass, is to be used for the transportation. A crew worth their
weight in gold, Mahazi was not concerned for the trip. The skies are clear,
winds just right for sailing. Even though he has only been on a ship twice,
once with his now deceased mother, Mahazi was calm, ready. The guards
appeared shortly after, dragging the prisoners behind them. Some of the
prisoners in worse shape than the others from the interrogation Private
Maccus put them through. As long as none die before their time, Mahazi did
not care.

After the guards finished securing the prisoners, it was time to go.
Looking to Mezlak, Mahazi gave the order to the crew. The crew set out,
impatient to get to Tropica.




Writer: Velok

Date Fri Oct 13 12:13:58 2017




Writer: Xentessa
Date Fri Oct 13 13:28:27 2017




Writer: Xentessa
Date Fri Oct 13 13:59:20 2017




Writer: Xentessa
Date Fri Oct 13 14:08:14 2017




Writer: Catroina
Date Fri Oct 13 17:11:49 2017




Writer: Xas
Date Sat Oct 14 06:05:42 2017




Writer: Ayrora
Date Sun Oct 15 12:54:01 2017

To All Verminasia Roleplay Storyline Immortal

Subject It's Morning



The chill in the air at sunrise made Ayrora pull her shawl tightly about
her as she stepped out onto the balcony. She took a deep breath and let it
out slowly as she listened to the musical sounds of the birds on the morning
mission. She looked over the orchards as a soft smile graced her lips, she
shivered slightly pulling the shawl even closer.

She had come so far in the few years as a guild leader, a steward, a
respected citizen of Verminasia. As she stood watching the sunrisee she
realized she was not the same person she was the day she arrived to
Verminasia that she had changed very much and, hopefully, for the better.

Ayrora looked down at the people starting to stir below her, another day has
begun. She turned and walked back into her bedroom and closed the door
behind her.





Writer: Cieran
Date Tue Oct 17 10:16:35 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:53:03 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:53:31 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:54:30 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:56:26 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 16:58:24 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 17:00:09 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 17:02:46 2017




Writer: Zola
Date Tue Oct 17 17:03:20 2017




Writer: Ayrora
Date Tue Oct 17 20:39:40 2017

To All Verminasia Immortal Storyline Roleplay

Subject Late Night Escape (Part 1 of 2)



It was two in the morning as Ayrora snuck quietly down the spiral
staircase, keeping an eye out for any guards wandering about the manor. All
seemed quiet so she continued to the bottom of the steps. She looked up and
down the parlor hallway and made her way to the door. The only light
shining in the dark was a dim porch light and once she passed it no one
would see her leave. She was tired of having the constant guards following
her everywhere she went. She silently opened the door and made her way out,
closing the door behind her and slipped away. So far her plan was working.



If she entered the barn on the usual side Braedan would surely wake everyone
up so she decided to take her newly acquired black mare Midnight. She
quietly gathered the tack she needed and went quickly to her stall saddling
her and putting the bitless bridle on. She slowly led her out and both
walked quietly into the darkness.

They walked about twenty feet from the barn before hopping into the saddle
and she road another twenty feet before opening her to a gallop. They had
made it out with no guards around to bother her on her ride. She rode down
to her favorite spot by the water and dismounted. She enjoyed riding
Midnight but she has yet to learn everything that Braedan knows about her.
It is as if Braedan can read her completely but Midnight will learn in time.



Ayrora pulled an apple from a tree near by and smiled at that little moment
that brought many memories back. Ayrora turned quickly to the left when she
heard the branch break and went quickly to stand next to the mare. Now she
heard more footsteps and a soft beating of horse hooves. From behind one
tree Jones stepped out and from another Thomas. Ayrora's blood boiled as
she watched the two ex guards take a few steps forward stopping a few feet
from her.

Ayrora pretended to scratch beneath her boot as she reached for her dagger
and, how she wished Braedan would have been there, she would do what must be
done. First she turns to Thomas. You have no reason to be upon these lands
so I will tell you get off of this Province and do not ever return.
Thomas
looks Ayrora up and down before saying anything, Two against one M'lady, you
shan't get far.
Thomas pulls a dagger from its sheath and prepares to
attack her. She looked at Jones and then back at Thomas with a slight
laugh. She could get him if the other did not attack. In the meantime, she
could hear the hoof beats getting closer.

She looked at him very seriously, Try me.





Writer: Ayrora

Date Tue Oct 17 20:42:50 2017

To All Verminasia Immortal Storyline Roleplay

Subject Late Night Escape (Part 2 of 2)



She stepped back a few steps preparing for his next step just as he
rushed her and swung his dagger at here his face. She managed stave his
attack as she turned to her side and opened a gash on his upper arm. She
then took a few steps away so that he had a space to land. She could see
the anger on his face as she stood there unshaken. I have more if you wish.
He looked over at Jones, What are you standing there for? Get her!!!

At this point, Jones and Thomas were rushing her on either side, she pulled
her other dagger out and measured the distance, calculating what she could
do when Thomas dove and cut her on the side of her calf as Rora dove her as
deep as she could into his lower back. She turned quickly and sliced Jones
down his left shoulder. Jones howled in pain as he was thrown on the
ground. In came Braedan with a few guards.

Captain Amos looked at the two on the ground. Captain, See that my dagger
is returned once you get these two to the dungeons. Interrogate them and
see if they are working for anyone else and I shall put them out of their
misery when the time comes.
Amos nod, Yes, Viscountess. He lingered
about for a few moments looking at her. Yes Captain, I will travel with
guards from now on.






Writer: Ruwen

Date Wed Oct 18 23:11:36 2017




Writer: Ruwen

Date Wed Oct 18 23:12:44 2017




Writer: Ruwen
Date Wed Oct 18 23:13:52 2017




Writer: Ruwen
Date Wed Oct 18 23:15:11 2017




Writer: Ronilas
Date Thu Oct 19 20:37:52 2017




Writer: Ronilas
Date Thu Oct 19 20:40:41 2017




Writer: Barakiel
Date Fri Oct 20 19:57:10 2017



 


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