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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

End of the Hunt - When the Hunter Falls (Hunter of Gathna)
End of the Hunt - When the Dead Live (Hunter of Gathna)
End of the Hunt - Felled by the Fallen (Hunter of Gathna)
End of the Hunt - Grave of the "Hunter" (Hunter of Gathna, Conclusion)
Dark musings of her found
A stroll by the sea
The Prodigal Daughter Returns
The first rage - part 1
The first rage - part 2
The first rage - part 3
Spilled Milk (Vampire Chronicles)
Contemplations of the dark variety
Bandits of Althainia - Branded Mercy
Bandits of Althainia - Unsurprising, But Disappointing
Season of Strife
The Last Descent
Night Watch
The Search
Seeking the Path
{pCher{pry Blo{pssu{pm Ramparts
Dust to Dust - Part I
Dust to Dust - Part II
Dust to Dust - Epilogue
{uRude Awakening - I
{uRude Awakening - II
Dragonfly Dancing
Dragonfly Dancing Pt.2
Death stalks Osaka
Hammer Descending
The Anvil Rings
Returning Home
Returning Home, Part Two
Returning Home, Part Three
Returning Home, Final
The Fracture
Simple Comforts
The Battle Within
The Echoing Roar
Of Squires and Puzzles
Something Deep Within Doth Sleeps (1)
Something Deep Within Doth Sleeps (2)
Something Deep Within Doth Sleeps (Final)
Hidden Heartaches
Hidden Heartaches, Part Two
Hidden Heartaches, Final
X Storm's End - Reconnaissance X
X Storm's End - Preliminary Plans X
Snug as a Bug in a Rug
Orders given.
Old wounds...
Dance Lessons
Eyes of Turbulence
X Storm's End - Attack by Fire X
The Return of Isadore Schwartz? & Joat Tenneal
The Mysterious Cane & Death to Fatale
Prayer and Faith
Khsianth's Tale: The return of a monk.

Writer: Rellinath
Date Fri Jul 13 00:07:01 2018

To All althainia imm rp

Subject End of the Hunt - When the Hunter Falls (Hunter of Gathna)

Rellinath dodged under the swipe of the werewolf in front of him, and
instinct told him to dive to the side to avoid the one that'd come up behind
him. Originally, there'd been only three of them, but they'd come out in
droves after he engaged, and he was admittedly finding himself overwhelmed.
Minah was with him, of course, darting in and out of the fight as she was
wont to do, but he figured sooner or later he'd have to retreat from this
fight. He was strong, he was fast... These days, even moreso with the Gift
coursing through his veins... But there were just too many, with more on
the way from the sounds of it.

He twisted, rolled, stabbed, and launched into a dive, and felt a sharp
tearing pain as one of the beasts scored a lucky blow, then another heavier
blow slammed into the back of his head, momentarily disorienting him. Long
enough for one of them to clamp down on his shoulder with its jaws and tear
at him with wicked claws for a few moments before Minah knocked it away.

That was it. Rell knew that last wound would prove to be mortal, and
although the Gift would bring him back soon enough, if one of them managed
to tear his head from his body while he was down, that really would be the
end of him. He grabbed one of the alchemical orbs he'd had prepared from
his pouch and hurled it into the ground, releasing a cloud of vaporized
wolfsbane into the air. The werewolves surrounding him howled in anger and
agony as the vapor rolled over them, and Minah dashed away, as she would
still be sickened by the vapors. Rell didn't technically need to breathe so
it wouldn't bother him, and he was fading anyway, but this would give him
the time he needed to recover.

The werewolves took flight, and Rell sunk to the ground, blood pouring from
the wounds he'd acquired in the fight. Suddenly, as his vision began to
darken, he heard a sharp cry cut through the night.

OI! There's a man down over there!

This wouldn't be the first time Rell had "died" in the wilds, but he'd
always hunted alone. He'd never fallen in front of witnesses before, and
nobody in Gathna knew his true identity, or the truth of his Kindred blood.
They would not understand when he did not stay dead.

As the light faded, Rell thought to himself: "Sh-"

Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Jul 13 00:19:06 2018

To All althainia imm rp

Subject End of the Hunt - When the Dead Live (Hunter of Gathna)

"-it. "

It took every bit of willpower he had not to suddenly gasp for air as life
flooded back into his body. It was a jarring experience, coming back to
life after succumbing to something that would kill a normal, mortal man.
But he did not draw breath, and did not immediately open his eyes, listening
for signs of someone around him. When he heard nothing, he cautiously
opened his eyes.

Darkness. Wherever he was, it was pitch black.

He reached out, or tried to, only to have his hand bump into something, very
close. He tentatively tried to sit up, and bumped his forehead. Lifted a
knee, and that too struck something.

He was in a coffin. Figures. At least his weapons and armor would be
entombed with him, as per Gathnian funeral rituals. Minah could easily dig
him out of the shallow grave he'd be buried in, for fear of the gravedigger
being caught by one of the beasts roaming the wilds, and he could escape.

He let his hand fall to his chest, only to realize he wasn't wearing his
armor. He put his hands to his sides, feeling around next to him, but found
no weapons. Something was wrong, This wasn't normal.

"Ah, you awake in there? ", came a muffled voice from outside, followed by
a rasping sound just above Rell's head. The sound continued for a few
moments, then a bit of light creeped in as a sawblade cut through the wood
of the coffin. A few moments later, a cracking sound as the plank of wood
above Rell's head was removed to reveal his rescuer, the gravedigger.

"Thought ye might come around while I was getting me saw, " the gravedigger
said to him. "Kinda wish he hadn't, though. "

A chill crept through Rell as he realized that the gravedigger had removed
only enough of the coffin to expose his head... And neck.

"Ye've not been telling us the whole truth, have ye? But no matter. I know
who you are. I know WHAT you are. And soon, after I take your head, you'll
be nothing but a corpse, as you should be. "

Rell lurched suddenly, thudding against the inside of the coffin. No good,
it was cheap but sturdily made. Regardless, he refused to give up, bashing
against the inside of his prison as the gravedigger vanished from sight, to
return a few moments later with a large axe. The gravedigger raised the axe

"Goodbye, Kindred one. "

Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Jul 13 00:29:24 2018

To All althainia imm rp

Subject End of the Hunt - Felled by the Fallen (Hunter of Gathna)

A bloodcurdling yowl cut through the air and a streak of black flew above
the coffin, drawing a gasp of surprise from the gravedigger as both he and
the killing axe vanished from sight.

"Minah... "

Rell couldn't see the scuffle going on outside, but he could surely hear the
startled and pained shouts of the gravedigger and Minah's angry growling and
snarling as a fight raged on. He continued to bash at the inside of the
coffin, feeling the tiniest bit of give, when he suddenly heard a pained
yowl from Minah.

His vision went red as his eyes flared with magenta flame. He focused the
power of his gift into his knee, along with All his will and the undeniable
rage he felt at the pain inflicted upon his friend. His focus narrowed, the
width and breadth of the world narrowing itself into that single point.

The world moved, and the prison gave way with the sound of splintering wood
and the squeal of iron as nails were ripped from the wood. Rell sat up,
just in time for the axe to come crashing down where his neck had been a
moment before. He lept away and rolled, coming to his feet five paces from
the gravedigger, who'd been badly clawed and chewed by the pantehr and was
obviously enraged at this development.

"So you got out. Fine by me. I'll take some revenge for the pain your
demon cat caused me afore I take your head! " the man snarled. Rell looked
down at himself, wearing nothing but his tunic and leggings, and shrugged,
putting up his bare hands in a fighting pose. The gravedigger grinned
wickedly and charged, lifting the axe high.

The gravedigger was strong, but he wasn't especially skilled with the axe.
He didn't know, couldn't know, that Rell had trained for hundreds of hours
with almost every type of weapon known to man, including those axes. He
knew the inherent strengths and weaknesses of it. For example, they were
extremely dangerous from a few feet away, but if you got in close, inside
the effective range...

The gravedigger launched his swing. Rell stepped into him, surprising him
with a punch to the throat. He reached up, grabbing the haft of the axe,
and drove his knee into the man's stomach. He twisted the axe from his
grasp, spun a full circle, and swung, the axe cleanly decapitating the man
with a single blow.

Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Jul 13 00:38:45 2018

To All althainia imm rp

Subject End of the Hunt - Grave of the "Hunter" (Hunter of Gathna, Conclusion)

Rell braced himself. He'd never killed one of the Kindred before, and he
knew not what to expect. What he did NOT expect was what happened.


So the man wasn't a Kindred. But he had to be. He had to have felt Rell's
presence, how else could he have kno-

Wait... His ring. The signet ring he wore, with the crest of the Mamoritai
family and his own panther paw device. That must have been it. That told
the man who he was, that he was Rellinath Mamoritai of Althainia. And he'd
made his Kindred blood no secret back at home, so the man must have put it
all together and decided to try and steal his gift for himself when he was
presented for burial. Evil bastard.

Rell found his belongings in a box on the gravedigger's cart nearby. He
must have been preparing to smuggle them out so he could sell them later or
something. Or, who knows, maybe he was going to use them himself? It
didn't matter at this point. What mattered was what to do from here. He
couldn't go back to Gathna and try to explain this to the citizens of the
village there. The simple fact that he was alive would render them
unwilling to listen to him, they wouldn't accept who he was, not after he'd
tried to keep it a secret.

So... The hunter was dead. He had to be. He was dead, buried, and gone.

Rell picked up the body of the gravekeeper, taking a scrap of cloth from his
shirt before putting it into the coffin meant for him, and shoved it into
the shallow grave dug nearby. He piled the dirt on top and packed it in,
then walked a short distance back towards the village. He cut his palm and
smeared the cloth with blood, shredding it and dragging it through the
branches. Indeed, the hunter was dead and gone, and the gravedigger had
been taken by the beasts of the night on his way back to the village. This
was how it had to be. His time protecting the forests from the werebeasts
of Gathna was over.

Time to go home. Though they didn't really welcome him that warmly these
days, at least Althainia knew who, and what, he was.

Writer: Ayrora

Date Fri Jul 13 08:44:33 2018

Writer: Ayrora
Date Fri Jul 13 09:46:03 2018

Writer: Grokkel
Date Fri Jul 13 19:33:03 2018

To All IMM RP conclave

Subject Dark musings of her found

Walking down to the lower levels of the black towers..
. .. ...
Entering a practice room of midnite black granite..

"Yesss this will do fine.."

A magenta candle lit.. The book of the evening, "Universal Architecture
Series: Spidersilk weaving" Grokkel spent much of his time gathering
information from the towers immense library on subjects like the universal
architecture series...

Laying out a black velvet map and placing a variety of objects on the
ground, Grokkel finds a perfect upright posture and begins a deep low hum
fading to an almost inaudible vibration..

Losing self.. Connecting this vibration to the vibration of the objects
placed on the floor, Grokkel's Physical body begins convulsing, pulsing with
a mystical energy drawing a subtle nonspoken communication into hidden
libraries of the physical body. Creating a felt heat in the otherwise
frigid practice room of the black towers, The Magus slowly stops shaking and
begins to open his eyes.. Beginning a sinister and wicked laugh echoing
through the solid granite itself...

"You can take her from her towersssz but she ownssz yer dark black heart!"


Picking up the objects and rolling up the mat.. Laughing wildly in between
a cold empty stare.. Before blowing it out, "There will alwayssz be one to
light this here and one to blow this out"..

(whistling a chill sending tune)

-Archmagus Grokkel Black Robes

Writer: Grokkel
Date Fri Jul 13 20:02:20 2018

To All IMM RP conclave Drakkara

Subject A stroll by the sea

Grokkel approached the Dark Ziggorat looking for validation from her
faithful in the decisions of his master. How where the powers granted by
her still present in her towers? Grokkel walked past the statue of the
demon slain by his master Bodrum to control the black tower to the priestess
in the room. Seemingly holding back on the celebration and comforting the
others in the room, displaying effectively the roll of a priestess. From
the sinister smile on Grokkel's face you could see their weakness pleased
him. The young priestess delivers a timely message condoning his masters
actions. Unsettling to some surely, but pleasing.. All was going to plan..
She was moving and working through the walls of the towers and Algoron so
subtly only the most sensitive and patient could feel..

-Archmagus Grokkel Black Robes

Writer: Jadelyn
Date Fri Jul 13 20:19:51 2018

To All Imm RP

Subject The Prodigal Daughter Returns

"Land ho! "

A smile played on the young woman's lips after calling out to the crew of
the ship. The docks of Althainia were in full view now as she clung to the
rigging close to the crow's nest. A gnomish man tried to glare at her over
the edge of the nest, but All she could see was his nose and his eyes.

"That's my line! "

"Y'know, yer cute when yer angry. " The gnome huffed and disappeared,
leaving the woman chuckling. Shaking her head, her red hair whipped around
in the wind as her eyes returned to the docks. How long had it been since
she had been here? Years, for sure. She lost count out on the sea.

That was fine. She needed it. She needed the break from everything, but
she knew she couldn't stay away forever. Rumors had reached her ears, and
she knew that she had to go back. She couldn't say she was looking forward
to the return she loved the sea so much that leaving it for land seemed
almost like a betrayal.

It had to happen eventually, right? After years of moving from ship to
ship, crew to crew, never making herself known to anyone. She was sure some
knew who she was, but no one made a stink about it. They let her work and
fight with them. They let her drink with them. They left her alone to her
rest. No one pried, and she quickly silenced those who tried to probe too
far. She didn't kill them, but they learned how strong she was despite her
small frame. Knocking a few teeth out of nosy prats was certainly a good
way to make them shut up.

She couldn't tell, though, if she was nervous or excited to be back. She
didn't necessarily leave folks on the best of terms, although she didn't
leave on the worst terms either. It was a sudden upheaval that those who
knew her likely had questions. She left no note. She was just... Gone.
Would they like her still? Would they recognize her?

"Oi! " A call from the deck startled her from her thoughts. She could feel
her face burning, not from the sun, but the embarrassment from being snuck
up on by someone while she was thinking. Shaking her head, she looked down.
It was the ship's captain. What was his name? Not that it mattered. There
were just too many to remember.

"Aye, Cap'n? "

"You said you'd work if we brought you here! You said nothing about

A smirk crossed the woman's lips, and she let go of the rigging. She fell
back... And she heard a gasp before she looked at the deck upside down, now
hanging with the ropes hooked under her knee. The captain's eyes were wide
for a second, and when he realized what was going on, he cleared his throat
and straightened his coat.

"I'll be glad to be rid of you. Nothing but a pain in my arse. Now get to

"Aye, Cap'n! I'll be out of yer hair soon 'nough. " She easily and
gracefully made her way down to the deck. She reached up and gave the
captain's cheek a couple of gentle slaps before running to the sails. She
laughed when she heard some grumbling and steps stomping off. She cast one
more glance at the docks before she pulled her black tricorn hat from her
pack. She placed it on her head and stepped up to help man the sails.

Jadelyn Darkwater was home.

Writer: Kuzzik

Date Sun Jul 15 12:16:51 2018

To All of Wargar Plike Xolthus RP Imm Kyri

Subject The first rage - part 1

Kuzzik had finally arrived at "The Mountain" he had heard tales about
growing up in the slave pits as a child and now that he was free he knew
this was where a dwarf should be. There were some dwarves passing him
heading south in a trade cart, clearing heading to Althainia. He asked
where he could find some work, he wasn't afraid of hard work and didn't want
to show up to become a citizen with no coin in pocket. The trade merchant
advised he head into the city and get some quests from Dredin on the Eastern
Guild Lane.

Kuzzik was in awe at the size of a city inside of a mountain. Something
about it being carved into a mountain made him assume it would be small, but
it's size was staggering and the work that went into making this city had to
have taken centuries. He followed the signs and made his way to the Eastern
Guild Lane as the merchant advised. He saw a sign on the southern side of
the street saying Unemployement office and figured that was the place for
him, he went ahead and headed in.

He walked into the small office to find a man sitting behind a desk with a
pile of papers on it. As he walked in the man looked up from his papers,
grumbled something and then went back to looking at the papers.

"Hail!" Said Kuzzik, "I'm looking for some work to earn some coin before I
try to become an official citizen, I've heard there is some work here in the
form of quests I was told?"

Dredin grumbles and mutters as he crumples up a piece of paper and throws it
across the room.

Dredin picks up a piece of paper and glares at it. Dredin snorts loudly and
grumbles under his breath, 'Tha bloody crown again... I know where I'd like
ta sti-.. ' Dredin abruptly silences himself and looks around quickly to
see if he was heard, before burying himself in papers once more.

Kuzzik look puzzled, as the man appeared to completely ignore he was even
there. He said again "Sir, could I please have a quest to earn some coin?"

Finally Dredin simply said aloud that a blue diamond shard had been stolen
and needed recovered from the Sunken Junk. He had never heard of this place
before and asked where it was. Dredin had no response. Very well Kuzzik
thought, I'll figure this out, surely there is library nearby or people or
something that will have the information I need to at least get me pointed
in the right direction.

--Two days later--

Kuzzik was beat, he drug himself into Dredin's office looking like he had
just been beaten in the streets and left for dead and had a seriously
depressed look on his face, but a blue diamond shard in hand.

Kuzzik placed the blue diamond shard on the desk and said, "quest

Dredin took the shard and made a note in his book, putting gold on the table
and said "107 gold, 117 quest points".

Kuzzik seemed to brighten up at the pile of coins and earning some points.
He looked at Dredin and said "Can I get another quest, maybe something a
little easier this time?"

Dredin responded "You must wait a few minutes".

It didn't seem to make much sense to Kuzzik, but process was process, so he
sat down in a chair in the room and waited a few minutes as he was releaved
to just sit down for a few minutes.

-Concluded in part 2-

Writer: Kuzzik

Date Sun Jul 15 12:38:34 2018

To All of Wargar Plike Xolthus RP Imm Kyri

Subject The first rage - part 2

Dredin shuffled a few papers and grumbles.

Kuzzik looked over and wondered if enough time had gone by to where he could
take another quest yet. He asked Dredin "Can I have another quest now?"

Dredin said aloud again, same as before only this time it was a painting of
a puppy that needed gotten from the Sunken Junk.

Kuzzik's heart sank, the last time was such a chore, he looked at Dredin and
said can I get a different quest or am I stuck with that one now?

Dredin responded, "you may cancel this quest, but you will lose 20 of your

Kuzzik had just gotten over 100 from the first quest, so what was losing 20
to safe himself a lot of time to hopefully get an easier quest this time.
He smiled and said "I would like to cancel that quest and have another

Dredin nodded and said "I need you to get the crown jewels they are in the
Sunken Junk."

Kuzzik responded, "No, I just cancelled a quest just like that one, I don't
want to go back to the sunken junk, it was terrible."

Dredin said nothing

Kuzzik sighed "Alright, I'll lose another 20 points, cancel that quest and
give me another."

Dredin then responded "A painting of a puppy needs retrieved from the Sunken

Kuzzik grumbled, "No, I just cancelled that quest the time before this one.
I'm not going back to the Sunken Junk."

Kuzzik said once again "Cancel that quest and give me another."

Dredin responded "A blue diamond shard needs retrieved from the Sunken

Kuzzik was clearly getting annoyed he quick let out a "No!" And continued
"I just got back from that hell hole with a blue diamond shard and there
were no other ones there."

Kuzzik continued "I had to take a boat that only leaves once a damn day from
the port and then takes forever to sail to some land off in the middle of no
where." , "Then I had to swim offshore to get into this place, but while I
was swimming some damn random sea dragon attacked me and I wouldn't get away
from it and I had to either recall back to Thaxanos or drown in the ocean."
He said. He continued "So then I had to go back to the port, where I just
missed the boat so I had to wait an entire day for it to come back and then
said back to Shokono, just to swim out in the ocean again and hope a random
sea dragon doesn't attack me so I can get into this stupid Sunken Junk, then
I forgot to bring a water breathing potion so I almost drowned to death
getting the blue diamond shard and recalling right before I was going to

Kuzzik was clearly annoyed at this point and said sharply to Dredin "I'm not
going back! No more quests to the Sunken Junk, you hear me!"

Kuzzik then tried to calm himself down and said plainly "I'd like another
question please."

Dredin did not look up from his papers sand simply said "A royal sceptre
needs retreived from the Sunken Junk."

Kuzzik immediately snapped back "No! I said no no more sunken junk, you can
just forget it!" "Give me another quest somewhere else!" He demanded.

Dredin did not look up from his papers and simply said "A blue diamond shard
needs retrieved from the Su"

he was unable to finish the words before Kuzzik stood up and slammed his
fist down on the desk "NO!" He shouted, "No more sunken junk, you try to
give me one more damn quest there and the next questmaster is going to be
sending people there to retrieve pieces of your ass!" Kuzzik said with a
snarling tone.

Kuzzik demanded "Cancel that quest give me another!"

Dredin did not appear phased and he calmed said "A painting of a puppy needs
retrieved from the Sunken Junk."

Kuzzik stared at Dredin, his right eye slightly twitching.

At this moment something inside Kuzzik simply snapped, he looked directly at
Dredin and screamed as if his very life depended on this one shout. At this
moment Thaxanos peacekeepers in the street heard the scream and began to
make their way into the small office.

-concluded for real in part 3-

Writer: Kuzzik
Date Sun Jul 15 13:02:27 2018

To All of Wargar Plike Xolthus RP Imm Kyri

Subject The first rage - part 3

They entered to find Kuzzik standing on the desk, kicking the papers all
over the room and pulling a dagger out of his boot and moving towards Dredin
with it and screaming "I'll kill you, you son of an elf! You're a dead

The Thaxanos peacekeepers rushed to desk and one grabbed Kuzzik off the desk
and slammed him down to the ground. Two others tried to hold him to the
ground, but Kuzzik was like he was possessed. Kicking and biting at the
guards, Kuzzik was not going down without a fight.

Another guard came into the office and tried to help the other three guards
subdue Kuzzik. While attempting to restrain him on the ground one of the
guards accidently or not made a very clear shot right at the "goods". It
was at this point where Kuzzik stopped remembering what happened and simply
blacked out as far as he could recall.

He woke up in a cell to a bucket of water being dumped on him some time
later. The guards clearly not very happy with him. They told him to get up
and get the hell out and he's lucky he's new to the city or he would have
had a lot worse done to him.

Kuzzik gathered his belongings on a table outside the cell and slowly began
to walk out of the officer station, he was hurting pretty bad but couldn't
remember from what. As he was about to walk out one of the guards called
out to him.

"No so fast, tough guy." The guard said, you need to sign for your
equipment release and to your list of offenses.

Kuzzik limped back over to the desk and made his mark on the paper, he was
given another piece of paper with his list of offenses and walked out of the

-Threatening a public official
-Destroying public documents
-Brandishing a weapon at a public official
-Resisting arrest
-Biting public defenders
-Headbutting public defenders
-Groin-biting public defenders

The list seemed to go on and on, but he didn't remember any of it. "Atleast I got
off with a warning this first time it seems, I don't even remember drinking
anything yet." he said as he shruged.

He looked and there was another piece of paper under the list of charges.

He flipped the list of charges and read the paper in back it was from Dredin
and just said "You have run out of time for your quest!" It was starting to
come back. Kuzzik crumbled the piece of paper in his fist, clenched his teeth
and squinted his eyes.

Writer: Shilo
Date Tue Jul 17 12:07:06 2018

To All Althainia Abaddon Annabel ( IMM RP Taliena )

Subject Spilled Milk (Vampire Chronicles)

The shop swam in the ariel's vision, the floor tilting dangerously as the
winged girl fell to the floor with a thumb. Vaguely, she could hear
Annabel's shouts of concern, but they seemed distant - far away. All too
late, she realized what was happening.

The Althainian castle's room of rest swam before her eyes, blood splattered
everywhere with haphazard care. Feathers of purple and orange littered the
room, some turned crimson with the blood they floated on. The cries of the
castle guards were distant, sounding like another voice - one she could not
place. She knew what lay behind her. What gruesome sight the beast had
chosen to force upon her, this time. She didn't want to turn around.
Didn't want to see what waited for her.

'V-V-Vampire... ' Shilo managed, fumbling through her bags. She was aware,
vaguely, of arms around her, supporting her - stopping her from falling to
the floor as she dug desperately for a weapon. '... V-V-Vampire... '

Weapon. She could feel it in her hand. A dagger. She knew whose blood
dripped from it - knew it in a way that made her feel sick and disheartened.
The guards were still shouting. Searching... For her? They would find
her, yes, they would find her and the terrible thing she had done. She was
going to lose her home. She had already lost it. Had killed it. Slowly,
against her will, she turned.

The first sting of pain was an agony, wrenching her from those bloodied
halls and back to the relatively clean shop. The second was bliss; a
wretching, searing pain to burn away the horrors of that room, of that
beautiful face so terribly ruined.

'Shilo! Shilo! ' that voice again. Annabel. Right. She had been out
shopping, in Shokono.

The ariel turned her head upwards, offering the other girl a weak smile,
dimly aware of the bleeding from her wrist, from the bandages shredded and
broken - much like the wrist beneath.

'I, umm... ' she manages, voice soft and trembling, '... I'm sorry. '

Writer: Nehtur

Date Tue Jul 17 21:41:10 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 08:05:40 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 08:14:25 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 08:28:14 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 08:36:58 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 09:52:00 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 10:02:59 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 10:36:17 2018

Writer: Othos

Date Wed Jul 18 10:39:39 2018

Writer: Nehtur
Date Thu Jul 19 20:33:46 2018

Writer: Nehtur
Date Fri Jul 20 19:19:29 2018

Writer: Nehtur
Date Fri Jul 20 19:19:32 2018

Writer: Nehtur
Date Fri Jul 20 19:19:35 2018

Writer: Dxutim
Date Mon Jul 23 16:36:41 2018

To All Conclave Black_Robes Verminasia Bloodlust Shadow Abaddon Drakkara Imm ( RP Kyri Immortal )

Subject Contemplations of the dark variety

Snow fell silently upon the floor of the arena. The yard lines of the
Capture the Flag field had faded and the uncovered visitors seats had long
since disappeared beneath the snow. The massive iron gates of the Coliseum
had been closed for some time, restricting the movements of the Minotaur
citizens of Ganth to the hallways of the Kingdom walls outside.

Only a single set of footprints in the snow made it past the gates, beside
some already buried prints from weeks ago. The sound of running water
echoed in the circular Atrium within the granite walls of the arena, somehow
unfrozen by the frigid temperatures of the Icewall continent, the water
surrounded the pentagram pedestal in the middle of the Atrium. The
footprints made their way past the beautiful statue of the Mistress of
Midnight and up a set of stairs.

From the Office suite, the view extended over the entire Minotaur Kingdom,
from the Great Hall of Ganth to the Imperial Palace. The two shadowy
cloaked figures stood within the Office and spoke casually as they had done
time and time before.

Dxutim spoke ominously, 'There can only be two endings. I must pray. '

The Chosen of the Drakkara looked away from the other Invoker in the room
and out onto the Coliseum he had built for his Goddess, a tribute for
returning his Horns of Power. The lightning aegis surrounding him began to
constrict tightly, causing the snow beneath his feet to melt away as his
eyes narrowed towards the sky.

Writer: Rellinath

Date Tue Jul 24 23:49:38 2018

To All althainia mercerion aliera imm rp

Subject Bandits of Althainia - Branded Mercy

Rellinath sat by the fire and finished cleaning the blood from his
blades. After having spent years risking life and limb every night fighting
the werewolves of Gathna, these bandits were both shockingly easy to track
and to defeat. Minah had led him from the Church of Nadrik, where he'd
passed the evening catching up with General Mamoritai, to the trail of a
group of thugs fresh from ransacking a supply caravan bound for one of the
outlying villages of Althainia. He'd descended on them as night fell, the
better to take advantage of his skills in stealth and catch them by complete
surprise. Most had raised their blades in challenge and fallen almost as
quickly. A few ran into the night, spitting curses, with Minah in hot

Which left only one small problem. Rell looked across to the other side of
the campfire, where the last remaining bandit of the group sat with his arms
bound behind his back. This one had responded to Rell's sudden assault on
their group by throwing down his sword and begging for mercy. Rell studied
the man's face for a few moments before speaking.

"I will grant your plea for mercy, but there will be conditions. You will
give up banditry and repent your sins against the people of Althainia. You
will accompany me to the village that the supplies your group ransacked were
intended for and offer your services to the villagers in compensation for
their losses. And you will remain there until such time as the village
elder deems your debt repaid. Longer, I pray, for my hope for you is that
living among them in peace will teach you a better way of life. Do we have
an agreement? "

The bandit nodded his head, shaggy black hair waving somewhat wildly with
the motion. Rell returned the nod. "One more thing, then. '

Rell reached down to retrieve something from the campfire, and the bandit's
eyes narrowed as he tried to make out what it was. They then widened in
shock as recognition set in... Branding irons. He looked up at Rell in
sudden fear, to which Rell simply shrugged.

"It seems a bit cruel... But far less so than taking your hand, and far
easier to explain to onlookers. This marks you in a way that only those who
know will recognize. And a small bit of pain is nothing in comparison to
the suffering you'd have put the village through had I not found you. ".

Rell approached the bandit and offered him a piece of rawhide to bite down

"This will hurt, but on my honor, not for long. "

Writer: Rellinath

Date Tue Jul 24 23:58:29 2018

To All althainia mercerion aliera imm rp

Subject Bandits of Althainia - Unsurprising, But Disappointing

Afterwards, Rell had cut the bandit's bindings and given him a bottle of
a yellowish concoction, which he explained was a healing ointment that would
stop the pain of the brand without removing the mark. It worked suprisingly
well... The bandit scratched at his chest, where he now bore a small brand
of a panther's pawprint with a coin purse in the center of the largest pad,
about the size of his thumbnail overall. True to the ranger's word, it
didn't hurt anymore at all, it just sort of itched, and the mark was
unobtrusive enough that he'd be able to explain it away easily to anyone who
didn't already know what it meant. He was curious, though, as to why
Rellinath had removed his bonds.

"You still wear a bond, but this one is only as strong as your conviction, "
Rell explained to the bandit. "If you truly wish to leave behind the life
of crime you lead and make a peaceful, prosperous life for yourself, then
the bond will hold and we will arrive at the village sometime tomorrow. If
not... "

Rell shrugged, leaving the last sentence unspoken, and tossed a bundled
bedroll over to the bandit before turning over on his own and laying down in
front of the fire.

"Sleep well. I warn you, though, do not approach me during the night. I
sleep lightly, and my shadow sleeps not at all. " A low growl issued from
the canopy overhead, and the bandit caught his meaning well enough. He laid
down on his own bedroll, and the two went to sleep.


Rell awoke to the sound of shuffling from the bandit's bedroll. He cracked
an eyelid a fraction, just enough to see the bandit slipping away from the
camp and escaping into the night. A questioning growl came from overhead,
and Rell shook his head, sighing lightly to himself.

"No. Do not chase him. I granted mercy, and until he proves unworthy of
it, he shall have it. Perhaps he simply fears retribution from the village.
So long as we do not cross paths again, I wish him well. "

Rell laid back down to return to his sleep. He was disappointed, but hardly

Writer: Sierus

Date Sat Jul 28 12:03:42 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm RP )

Subject Season of Strife

The early morning rains having subsided a few hours before to regroup and
gather strength for the resumption sure to come late in the afternoon, a
humid mist had formed and crept it's way slowly from the Kurotaka Hills to
fan out over the low meadow which had been the scene of carnage for as long
as anyone could remember. With the cessation of the rainy season came the
yearly skirmishes and raids of little official consequence yet bearing the
sentence of life or death for those striving to scratch existence from the
northern province of Dojia. The fates of those simple folk had become the
concerns of the two men gazing out over the landscape from the edge of the
Osaka Woods, one filled with the weight of tradition and the necessity of
enduring the inevitable, the other filled with the ruthless application of
any and All means to effect a desired outcome and move forward. The
differences in outlook mirrored the difference in appearances between the
two. The first of medium height, though that was considered large among the
locals, and with the stocky build and bowed legs of a born and bred
horseman. The second, a head taller and built with the lean wolfishness and
long legs adept at moving over broken ground and choked trails. "I can see
why it is always here... The break between the hills and woods providing
the ground for you to use your cavalry best. It is the obvious place.. For
you and them both. Equally obvious is the pointless nature of it.. A
regular irritation by the shokonese, a rash that never breaks the skin. We
can change that, Kaito.. Why should Dojia and these people endure it for
Tama's aims?"
, The taller said breaking the silent contemplation.

A grunt in reply and slow nod from the shorter man heralded the moment of
decision. "This is so. Tama still holds influence though, he will not
support such change or any threat to his expected revenues from the usual
hostage taking. Your involvement only adds to his argument with your
influence, Gaijin."
, Replied Chief Kaito, nominal emperor of Dojia though
he shied from the title in deference to his mother and recently departed
father. "... But, you are correct, though I am concerned of what further
change this will bring upon Dojia."
He finished after a committal grunt.
"Change finds us in any case, and fearing it does not serve our Lord..
Effecting it in His name will."
The taller replied, "We will not shoo this
pest as Tama seems content to allow. We will serve them a blow of such
power their emperor will suck the silken pillow of his throne into his rear
upon hearing of it."
The shorter man blinked at hearing this and finally
barked a deep, rumbling laugh as the image settled in his mind. Growing
silent a moment as he gazed again across the fields, the chief replied in a
hiss of conviction "Make it so then, Gaijin.. You have my blessing and
command to make the preparations. I will prepare the council of lords to
receive my command and set the levy. The wind shall blow from a new
direction this season.."

Writer: Cassian

Date Sat Jul 28 15:36:10 2018

Writer: Cassian

Date Sat Jul 28 15:37:00 2018

Writer: Cassian

Date Sat Jul 28 15:37:14 2018

Writer: Cassian

Date Sat Jul 28 15:37:17 2018

Writer: Drogin

Date Sat Jul 28 15:50:06 2018

Writer: Sierus

Date Sat Jul 28 20:55:43 2018

Writer: Crelius

Date Mon Jul 30 16:58:02 2018

To All Shadow Necrucifer Imm (RP)

Subject The Last Descent

Harrowing it was to the man whom stood before the ledge. The winds that
once blew with no soul were absent. Forever he had felt them, guarded them,
wielded them. Now nothing. The fiery floes of the chamber had
extinguished. No more were the volcanic veins of his master leading the
path through the sacred threshold. All that seemed left, was nothing. The
Reliquary, fell silent.

Crelius turned to regard the two men behind his footing. Sconces were put
in place where they should have never been. He squinted slightly through
his hood at their silhouettes.

The three knights had convened not by the calling of missive or notice.
They converged in this single place out of necessity and a more clarion
call. The triad of elder Sanctum Knights gathered in this secret place in
response to dire necessity. A contingency heard and put in place decades
ago. Only for the most dire of circumstances.

"We cannot let McCord step forth, we All know this," spoke Sir Zorreau. De
La Vega appeared strong as ever through the torch-light. However, a tinge
of gray shocked his stubble and hair. Black circles surrounded his eyes.
His gait remained that as the soldier and warrior he ever was. Bearing his
renowned stature still, that of an imposing legend in his own right. He had
begun to bear the trials of time.

"Indeed, it would be too much to risk the life of the Dark Lord in these
times," Crelius pursed his lips, removing his hood.

The three paused, a foreboding silence cast about the chamber.

"We know who must go forth then," Atennim nodded, removing a tattered
periapt from the folds of his robes.

Crelius looked towards the third man in the chamber. His visage remained
cloaked in shadow despite the sconce light. What could be seen was the
trace of his armor and the straight black hair he always knew him for. A
glint of azure light flashed within his eyes as Crelius regarded him.

"What of the King-Priest?" Asked De La Vega.

"I believe the time for talk with kings and priests and dragons is over.
This is in our hands now," Replied Crelius.

Reklah nodded.

"In history we've taught the knights of the Sanctum to bring a likeness of
their humanity with them upon the pilgrimage," Crelius spoke as he looked
down into his hand at the bauble within.

Atennim tossed the periapt towards Sir Kayen whom caught it deftly. Crelius
nodded towards Reklah, whom returned the nod, his eyes alit with cold fire.

"This time I will bring no likeness. I will be consumed. This is the last
time I will speak to the two of you," Crelius spoke.

The elder Sanctum Knights nodded.

"Seal the Reliquary behind me. None must ever set foot or learn of this
place again." Atennim spoke.

At that gesture Reklah nodded. Azure-electric light flickering in his eyes
once again as the chamber began to shake.

"For the Prophecy, comrades." Spoke Crelius as he offered a salute to his
brothers. He clenched his jaw and walked past the two knights towards the
edge of the void.

"The Black Winds blow with no soul, I will find him," Atennim intoned. "You
will feel them again."

And he let himself fall.

Writer: Kalinath

Date Mon Jul 30 22:11:25 2018

To All Shalonesti (Imm RP)

Subject Night Watch

Kalinath lay awake on a pad of willow fronds and waited for sleep to take
him. His tired eyes slowly opened to gaze upon the night sky that sparkled
with myriad stars that shone beyond the canopy of the mighty Vallenwoods
that stood ever watchful above him.

His attention was drawn to a void of space among the constellations, that
marked the location of an heavenly body. An orb that could only be truly
seen by some mortals, but that revealed itself to All others by the ominous
absence it created. His thoughts darkened as he contemplated this patch of
darkness, and he faintly heard the nightsounds of the forest began to echo
the cacophony of battle.

Decades of practiced meditative technique did little to allay the tumult of
his spirit; an unwelcome disharmony with the still night air that lay upon
the Sacred Grove.

Rising to a seated position, with the remembered deathscream of a dragon in
his ears, Kalinath looked out at his beloved home with an outward appearance
of calm. Standing with a sigh of resignation he decided he would volunteer
to relieve a member of the night watch.

A sleepless night was only another opportunity to enjoy the intricate beauty
of Her magnificent Kingdom. To stand vigil over a land that he had sworn to
protect, and to do service for a people that remained stalwart beneath the
inky shadow of that invisible moon.

Writer: Ezek
Date Mon Jul 30 23:25:54 2018

To Shadow Verminasia All Imm

Subject The Search

Ezek dropped the dusty tomes onto the ancient slab of marble before him,
muttering All the while. 'We should also be prepared to devise a way of
harnessing, storing, and projecting mass amounts of energy.
' The words
bounced around his head, jostling with questions of portals, energy and
artifacts. A portal and a tower. Questions of vengeance and retribution.
A portal and a tower. Questions of vengeance and retribution. Keeping
focus became harder as the tomes from the ancient shelves piled up on the
floor, useless.

As he carefully turned the velum pages, he eyes were drawn to the
scribblings and notes of ancient historians. They were maddening, the blind
guess work of unsettled minds.

But as he worked he kept notes of his own. Portals and energy, moons and
planes. Spirits and legend. That which was foretold was not yet
impossible, and the work would only end with the Return.

As the moons moved across the sky, he added more stones to his list to turn
before returning home.

Writer: Rasavadi
Date Tue Jul 31 17:46:06 2018

Writer: Fredrik
Date Tue Jul 31 22:15:19 2018

To All Arkane Vershae Religion Kwainin RP Imm

Subject Seeking the Path

Fredrik sat in the highest room of the Azure Tower of Arkane, unsure what
he was actually doing. Hunger gnawed at his belly. Just a few weeks ago he
had been so sure of his path, to enter Priesthood in service of Kwainin, but
now things had become so unclear. Haunting visions of a coyote, cryptic
conversations with Vershae, an enigma in themself, and talk of spirits all
had Fredrik very confused. Was he being played a fool? Who could he trust?
Most of All though, a burning curiosity of the spirits and their realm...

Fredrik recited part of the first Tenet of Kwainin again: "In Balance, you
must look further than your senses to surpass illusion and trickery. "

His stomach groaned again. What better way to learn of these spirits than
direct experience? But the old shaman in the woods was reluctant to teach,
Fredrik needed something to prove he was serious and capable. But how?

All he needed to see the spirit realm was to die, Vershae said. Or was he
joking? Death seemed extreme, but maybe if he came close. Fredrik had read
accounts of Priests undergoing extreme fasts to seek greater proximity to
the divine, and Fastia's writings mentioned starvation specifically. Maybe
Fredrik could hit two birds, or at least have better odds at getting one.

"In Balance, you must look further than your senses to surpass illusion and
trickery. " Fredrik mumbled again softly, closing his eyes and trying to
focus on that one thought. Hunger was helping him focus, on pain at least.

When Fredrik opened his eyes it was dark in the tower. Had he fallen
asleep? If so, he was still very tired. A chill breeze blew in from the
window, and he got up reflexively to close it. Fredrik froze, and through
the wispy dark saw the great grey owl that was perched in the window. His
gaze locked with with vibrant yellow eyes. It was beautiful, the whites and
blacks almost shifting into subtle grays even as he stared at the creature.

"Much to learn... " the thought floated through his mind, or had he heard?
Fredrik moved to kneel before the magnificent creature, but fatigue took
over and brought him to the floor much faster than he anticipated. When he
awoke, the daylight was shining again, and the owl was gone.

Fredrik picked himself up, stumbling down the Tower and out to the street,
heading to Grayclaw's for some much needed food. He would now have much to
discuss with that old shaman, now. He finished the first Tenet with a grin,
"Change comes in many forms, though balance is maintained. "

Writer: Arreana

Date Wed Aug 1 10:08:06 2018

Writer: Sierus

Date Wed Aug 1 18:42:42 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm RP )

Subject {pCher{pry Blo{pssu{pm Ramparts

Standing atop the earthworks the Lord of the Northern Province surveyed
the preparations, running through the plans and tasks yet to complete over
and over in his mind. Very little remained to be done, but it had long been
habit to check and recheck to ensure All was as it should be. Granted there
were still variables that could affect the outcome and unfolding of the plan
but that was unavoidable when the involvement of so many people was
necessary. Rolling the dice was no longer a choice, it was an unavoidable
fact. The faint call of a horn and rising commotion among the workers who
gazed to the south, heralded the awaited forces that would be fielded to
flesh out this act of resistance. Long lines of horsemen amid a panopoly of
multi-colored flags emerged in groups trailed by footmen and retainers of
the various lords heeding Emperor Kaito's call. Scanning the numbers
brought a sigh, never enough to feel comfortable but the call up had been a
rushed affair. A few hundred horsemen and another hundred afoot seemed a
meager amount, but Dojia prided itself on the quality and ferocity of it's
cavalry. The proof or lie of that would become evident in the days to come.

Heading up a much larger group the Emperor himself rode proudly to the bows
and then cheering of the people, the message was clear that when his people
were threatened Kaito would be there to defend or die on their behalf and
they loved him for it. Imperial footmen marched in glittering precision
calling out the step in unision and the crash of equipment punctuating each
step. Drawing his attention away from the infantry was a ragtag band
following behind. Uncoordinated mobs of what appeared common folk numbering
nearly a thousand or more, most bearing sticks to which twigs of cherry
blossoms were affixed. He studied the excited scampering and milling of the
crowd with confusion till Kaito arrived at last to receive greetings from
him and his brother Itsuki. Formalities exchanged, he simply raised a
questioning eyebrow at Kaito as he gestured towards the mob. "Ahhh! You
noticed them did you?"
Kaito aid with a chuckle, "They too heard the
call.. And rally to defend the lands of their Spirit Princess. Can you use
them or do you think you could send them away?"
Considering them a moment
the young lord shook his head in resignation and getured at his foreman,
"Round them up and assign them in groups with our people. Arm them as well
as can be found and make sure they understand they move and do as our people
say if they wish to see the dawn again."
The foreman nodded assent and
quickly set about his task as Kaito exchanged pleasantries with his younger
brother. Kaito then turned and said "All are assembled then, I will inform
my lords not to settle and make our way to the rally point as planned if
your guides are ready."
A nod of agreement was followed by the simple
statement "We are All ready.. Except Itsuki here who was just leaving with
his portion for the wood."

Itsuki nodded confidently and clasped arms with his taller brother-in-law
and mentor before gathering him into a hug that left the pair chuckling with
embarassment and parting with a wave. For Itsuki this would be his test, he
had been given charge of All those schooled in the barabarian lord's
skirmishing techniques. Methods honed in the swamps of Abaddon to harass
and terrify the might of an Empire. In his heart he knew he would rather
die than fail the trust that had been freely offered to him. "Alright, you
know your places and what to do. You have All worked and trained hard to
change your world and I am proud and honored to stand here with All of you
and your people. Here, together, we will unveil this new world to the
Shokonese and they will tremble at the realization of what has been
unleashed. You stand deathground now, from here there is no retreat, no
hope of surrender, and Fatale smiles approvingly upon you for you shall send
the best of Shokono to crowd His Door."
He intoned clearly and met the
gaze of both brothers before offering a salute in farewell.

Writer: Sierus

Date Wed Aug 1 19:17:47 2018

Writer: Tarkan

Date Sat Aug 4 09:03:26 2018

To All Shokono Arkane Kingdom RP

Subject Dust to Dust - Part I

The home was derelict and had fallen to disrepair. Though the family was
killed and the estate was returned to the Shokonese municipality, no one had
been tending to the property that once belonged to Tomoko's family. The
blood stains were otherwise cleaned. Perhaps no one moved in due to the
fear of haunting? Tarkan knew that the people of Shokono were
superstitious, so it made sense. As he made his way past the dead hearth
and towards the back door facing the orchard, his sense of smell indicated
that the place had been abandoned completely and devoid of All but the
occasional mouse.

Into the orchard, the Yinn ventured. A Shokonese paper seal ornament was
wrapped around the tree that Tomoko was found dead against. Tarkan pressed
a hand on the trunk and took a moment of silence.

"Come here to join her, have you? It's appropriate that you die here!"
Said a familiar voice from behind Tarkan.

Tarkan was filled with a rage at the sound of that voice. He turned about
abruptly, brandishing his work knife and dropping into a stance to face the
direction of the voice. Nothing. Smelling the air, he knew that Kenji was
close. "That same trick won't succeed twice, degenerate," Tarkan growled
before chanting, "Oculoinfra Uizug! "

The skills and spells he learned since his last trip to Shokono were taking
effect. The telltale tingle of his eyes made him see the world in a bit of
a slight haze, but up in the tree opposite himself was Kenji, nested within
the branches. A kunai flew from Kenji's hand, but Tarkan was able to
finally track the hand that was throwing it, and, pulling out his work
knife, timed his strike to knock the kunai into the air. "So!" Exclaimed
Kenji, "You've finally learned a trick or two yourself! Then teasing you to
your death won't do anymore!"

Tarkan barked out to Kenji, "You're a coward of the worst kind. You kill
out of jealousy, then you won't even face me yourself. You are weak!"
Kenji gritted his teeth and dropped from the tree. As he hit the ground, he
sprung forward to charge at the Yinn. Before the clash of kunai-to-work
knife, Kenji threw a vanishing bomb at Tarkan's feet, exploding with a cloud
of smoke and dust. Tarkan nearly sneezed. The dust masked Kenji's smell.

Writer: Tarkan

Date Sat Aug 4 09:07:46 2018

To All Shokono Arkane Kingdom RP

Subject Dust to Dust - Part II

The clang of metal on metal filled the air in rapid successions as
strikes from either adversary were met with parries. All the while, Tarkan
slowly felt his rage rising. With every blow he attempted to connect his
knife to Kenji's throat, he remembered the feeling of loss when he
discovered Tomoko's lifeless body. He remembered the warmth of the pellar's
hospitality. He remembered the nights he and Tomoko shared together. He
remembered the kiss he stole when the wind nestled him and Tomoko together.
Every memory only served to harden his blows against Kenji, causing his foe
to stagger with every blow.

As the final stagger created an opening for a strike, Tarkan channeled his
rage. "Mosailla Paieg!" Tarkan barked out. A flame enveloped Tarkan's
fist, and while he parried with Kenji's kunai, connected the knuckles of his
off-hand with Kenji's jaw. A loud crack came from the connection, followed
by a sizzle of singed flesh. "That's for the Pellar! Mosailla Paieg!"
Taking advantage of the momentum, Tarkan spun, a flame engulfing his leg,
and thrust his foot upward into Kenji, knocking him high into the air due to
the Yinn's superior physique. As Kenji launched into the air, Tarkan cried
out, "For the Pellar's wife!" Kenji twisted his body in the air, and
started to fall with his kunai aimed squarely for Tarkan's head. "Now you
die, Oukamijin!" Kenji huffed out, winded from the kick as he fell quickly
towards Tarkan.


Another flame engulfed Tarkan's hand once more, and with a swinging
uppercut, connected his fist with Kenji's plexus as Kenji fell into it, with
Tarkan's face only a hair's width away from the Kunai's edge. The rage
channeled into the magic flared up, sending an emission of magic flame to
penetrate through Kenji's body. "And that... Is for Tomoko! "

Writer: Tarkan

Date Sat Aug 4 09:11:01 2018

To All Shokono Arkane Kingdom RP

Subject Dust to Dust - Epilogue

Carrying the simple urn, Tarkan stepped off the carriage that took him
from the port to Arkane. Holding the urn under his arm he said, "We're
here..." Passing the gate, the guards saluted the Sentry. "As you were,
men." Tarkan uttered. Noticing the urn being carried, one gate guard stood
alongside Tarkan, marching as a funeral escort. As Tarkan progressed
through the streets, more guards began to march with the Yinn, creating a
procession of sorts.

Reaching the base of the tower of Arkane, Tarkan turned to the guards that
escorted him. "I'll take it from here, men. Go back to your posts." The
guards saluted Tarkan, and dispersed. The Yinn turned to climb the tower.
As he made his way up the stairs, Tarkan whispered to the urn, "This is the
great tower of Arkane. Many wizards have studied here. "

Tarkan made his way to the east window of the library in the tower, carrying
the urn with one arm and reaching out to open the window with the other. A
small creak of un-oiled metal prompted the librarian to shush at the Yinn.
Tarkan partially sat on the windowsill, and watched the sun rise over the
distant crystal fields, creating a shimmering display of iridescence as the
horizon filled with fire.

"Welcome to Arkane, Tomoko...welcome home."

Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sun Aug 5 00:53:38 2018

Writer: Ashtiel

Date Sun Aug 5 01:00:20 2018

Writer: Pardo

Date Mon Aug 6 18:15:02 2018

Writer: Tanaal
Date Thu Aug 9 14:49:40 2018

To All Verminasia Abaddon ( Imm RP Religion )

Subject {uRude Awakening - I

Two years before the Battle of the Black Moon...

"Is this the tomb?" The bandit said to the cleric, tapping at the stone
partition with his shovel.

"You fool! Don't disturb him! The last thing we want is for him to walk
the realm again! He was bad enough when he was mortal! And keep your voice
" the cleric hissed to the bandit. The bandit simply grumbled.

The cleric placed a hand on the stone partition, and began a low chant,
starting in but a whisper. As the cleric began to chant, the bandit kept to
the cleric's flank, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching. The wind
started to howl as the cleric channeled energy through his hands. With a
paste made from limestone, chalk and salt, the cleric circumscribed the base
of the tomb with the material before coming full circle to the front stone
partition, laying his hands once more and chanting, this time a bit louder.

With a flourish of his free hand, the cleric finished his chant, and removed
his hand. A handprint of the pasty substance he left started to glow at the
palm with the symbol of Austinian before it faded away, effectively blessing
the tomb and sealing it. "It's done," said the cleric, "That demon will no
longer walk our realm. He will be trapped forever, succumbing to a hunger
that will never be sated."

Writer: Tanaal

Date Thu Aug 9 15:59:21 2018

To All Verminasia Abaddon ( Imm RP Religion )

Subject {uRude Awakening - II

Two years later...

Tanaal stirred in his slumber. Something was amiss. Opening his eyes, his
fangs extended due to the hunger of being asleep for so long. His eyes
opened, and he rose from his slab in the tomb. His fangs extended by
reflex... He needed to feed. Pressing his hand against the partition to
the entrance of the tomb, his hand started to burn and sizzle. Tanaal
howled out in pain, gripping his wrist and peeling his hand from the searing
heat of the stone partition. His hand began to heal as soon as it was
singed, but the danger still remained.

Growling, Tanaal placed his hands together and prayed for transportation out
of the tomb...


Scowling, he spoke the word of recall, tapping into what magic ability he
could muster after his long slumber.


Desperate, he knelt to the ground by the chest of his personal affects he
was buried with, and quickly pulled out his enchanted chalice. The blood
inside was stale, but it would have to do in a pinch. The taste was so
stale, it was almost putrid... But it served it's purpose, and his thirst
was slaked. For now. Retracting his fangs and regaining control, he was
finally able to concentrate on an alternate, desperate solution: A risky

Solemnly, Tanaal gathered his affects, holding them tightly, and uttered the
incantation for a teleport.


As Tanaal looked up to the sky from the placid shores of Tropica, he noted a
large scorching crater on the surface of the Black Moon...

Writer: Ashtiel
Date Fri Aug 10 01:14:21 2018

Writer: Verdig
Date Fri Aug 10 07:25:11 2018

Writer: Verdig
Date Fri Aug 10 07:25:31 2018

Writer: Sierus
Date Fri Aug 10 22:03:06 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm RP )

Subject Dragonfly Dancing

Although the rains had delayed the intruder's passage through the hills,
reports of their approach had reached him at last. Itsuki's harassment
through the forests had gone as instructed, small stings to annoy but not
hinder the beast and Kaito awaited at the selected site to deliver the
hammer blow. Kaito rightly had the honor of punctuating the message to
Shokono, but first it fell to the folk of the North province and their
barbarian lord to pull the serpents fangs and set the tone of the message.
A message simple in it's clarity, "No more".

As the thunder of the hooves of uncounted foes neared, the young lord looked
to his archer's and noted the ready if nervous preparations as they awaited
the signal to draw first blood. As the riders entered view and angled
toward the road, and spurred to a gallop seeing no obvious resistance, the
lord raised an arm signalling his henchmen to raise their's as well.
Reaching the appointed mark at the first turn of the road, his arm dropped
and the signal was passed similarly as multitudes of bowstrings hummed
loosing a shower of arrows from behind the earthen parapets. The short
arcing flight found the orderly charge along the road, falling just behind
the lead elements and bringing an end to the tight lines as barbed points
found the flesh of men and mounts alike. The chaos caused amid the mingled
screams turned some from the road into the sodden paddies, some to stall,
and others to race to close the gap with the lead as another flight of
arrows rose to seek them once more. Each volley drove more from the road as
obstructing horses cluttered and hobbled the charge. Those choosing the
mire found the way forward more direct but drastically slower, and seeming
to be the wiser choice than stumbling along the choked road awaiting the
steady rain of arrows that plucked from their numbers.

Looking along the lines of his folk and the volunteers from the city, the
tension could be seen easily in the shifting and white-knuckled grip upon
the spears and implements they would soon be asked to bring to bear upon
their enemies. Settling his helm upon his head, the tall barbarian raised
his axes in either hand and motioned for them to mount the parapet and face
the enemy so that any fears of the unknown could be dispelled and the task
they would undertake become plain to all. As the foremost of those racing
along the road at last reached the leg-breaking trenching in the wild
screaming of horses and riders suddenly tossed from the saddle the time had
come and the axes thrust forward sending the simple folk down into the
paddies to meet death or carry it's message unto those who had come bearing
their message of contempt.

Writer: Sierus

Date Fri Aug 10 23:09:31 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm RP )

Subject Dragonfly Dancing Pt.2

As the shokonese horsemen struggled to right themselves into some order a
ragged cry broke into the screams of wounded men and horses, a cry born from
years of pain and frustration at the incessant raiding from those who
suffered it's pains. Men and women of varying ages started the cry that the
city volunteers picked up to stir their courage as the first encounters of
lance and sword met bristling spears and simple farm implements. Death
reigned in the form of trampling hooves, lance points and slashing sabers
among the ragtag defenders, who in turn clustered to feed spears to horse
and rider alike, dragging either or both down to the mire and crude butchery
neither side had thought possible a mere few days before. Ants swarmed to
devour the larger aggressors, absorbing it's furious might under sheer
effort and numbers.

Orderly lines had disappeared into a confusing melee as archers atop the
parapet plucked at individual riders, and horsemen turned circles driving
the simple folk beneath hooves into the mire but slowly the workers began to
push back, forcing the issue onto the confused riders who sought to rally
themselves. One cluster especially continued to draw it's companions
together and began to tatter the resistance and threatened to regain the
solid ground beyond the paddies. As the numbers began to falter and the
city folk scattered, the rally could not be allowed and the moment of
committment came to the lord of the province as well. Sprinting down along
the earthworks he leapt from the top as the first horseman of a group of
nearly a dozen climbed from the paddy, sweeping the rider from his mount
with a hair-raising cry in an unearthly tenor never heard outside the swamps
of Abaddon. Landing amid the horseman he began a dance of turns and
flashing axes, stepping aside from a lance thrust to cleave an opportune
thigh, ducking a saber slash to disembowel a mount. Keening his awful song,
each movement bringing death and mayhem with what seemed a practiced
precision, he was around them, among them and through them in a gory spray.

Seeing the fury and desperate dance of their lord halted the flight of the
workers who turned and fell upon the attackers with a renewed vengeance
spitting rider and mount indecriminately, dragging them down within the mire
to stab, tear or drown their foes.

Seeing the demise of their comrades and the redoubled efforts of the
defenders broke whatever bloodlust remained in the horseman and a chaotic
retreat began in earnest. Those who dallied or faltered where caught by the
surging defenders while the fleetest began making back for the forest road
and escape, as the dismounted and wounded were systematically dispatched and
the first cries of what had become a rallying cry tore from the throats of
the unforgiving mob. "Tonbo! Tonbo! TONBO!"

Delivering one final blow to his last victim, the barabarian looked up to
see the methodical slaughter unfolding. His gore and mod covered visage
looked on approvingly as the ragged retreat disappeared into the forest and
wondered at the cries of the victors. Raising an axe and turning suddenly
at the shout behind him, he regarded the beaming face of one of his
henchmen. {"What are they saying, Ito? Ton-bo?"
He asked of the short man.
"TONBO! , Lord. Dragonfly! You are the Tonbo! You bring us fortunate
victory, Lord Tonbo!"
The man cried and turned to follow the press forward
chanting with the others. The tall barbarian considered it a moment and a
small sigh and shrug settled it. "Another name... I was just getting used
to Gaijin."
He looked to the forest once more, "It won't be a victory till
Itsuki and Kaito finish their part, but we've done ours."

Writer: Sierus

Date Sat Aug 11 10:32:32 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna imm RP )

Subject Death stalks Osaka

Carried upon the faint wind the distant sounds of the fight found Itsuki
and the specially trained men of the northern province awaiting their turn
to add mayhem and horror to the conflict. The pin pricks against their
enemy's earlier passage through the Osaka Woods would soon be forgotten
against the full weight of atrocities awaiting their return. The deadfalls
and weight of the true numbers hidden within the forest had remained dormant
and passively allowed the enemy through before, with only a few harassing
bow shots, cast stones and occasional snatching of riders from the columns.
Now All would be brought to bear.

The faint sounds of a chanting mob diminished quickly beneath the sounds of
oncoming horsemen in full if not panicked flight as it entered the woods,
passing under the canopy of trees along the road. Raising the bone whistle
to his lips, Itsuki gave the eerie, undulating signal that was picked up and
joined by the many within the wood and ropes were cut allowing hewn trunks
and limbs to clutter the previously unobstructed road as the first score of
riders neared the ambush. The strum of bowstrings preceded the whispering
flight of arrows which began to pluck at the numbers of the enemy as they
negotiated through and around the entangling obstructions. The increasing
volume of riders added to the confusion of the enemy, the quickest among
them realizing the impossibility of coming to grips with their antagonists
and sped on while others who delayed were subjected to logs and in some
cases the swinging bodies of their earlier comrades passing among them in
pendulum arcs across the road. Those knocked from their mounts faced the
stampeding hooves of their comrades and the dubious safety of the brush
along the road wherein Itsuki's men waited with axe and dagger. Lines
dropped from overhead to snare the unaware hold them suspended as targets
for arrows or their panicked brethren. All of this to the backdrop of
pained cries from horse and rider while the bone whistles continued the
steady undulating call as the road became more cluttered with the carnage.

In time the onrushing horsemen eschewed any delay, whether in attempt to
rescue a downed comrade or simply face the ambushers. The higher order of
self-preservation took command and more and more passed through the
abbatoire of men and beasts seeking release and the open air of the fields
to north. It was of no concern to Itsuki and his men, they had driven the
spike of fear deep into their hated enemy and stripped away what was once
considered courage among them. The majority having passed already, the
decimation of the stragglers became the focus and Itsuki allowed himself a
smile of satisfaction. They had taken the teachings and applied them with
zeal, an act not to be forgotten by the enemy... At least those who found
some way to survive the day. After all, it was a ways yet to the assumed
safety of the Kurotaka Hills.. And Kaito awaited.

Writer: Sierus

Date Sun Aug 12 16:05:47 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm Rp )

Subject Hammer Descending

The long column of horsemen and footsoldiers had finally made it's way
free of the churned muck that had once been a road before the passage of the
shokonese raiders. Lord Tama's expected delay had been extended a bit by
the conditions to the chagrin of the armored rider atop a large charger
standing several hands higher than the dojian cavalry he accompanied with
Matsui, his aide and cousin to Kaito. As the open field came into clearer
view, Tama stopped to turn back at his unwanted liason and barked with
derision "Ha!.. You chafe at delay and yet even Kaito fails to keep his
schedule!" Gesturing with a sweep of his arm at the empty fields. Waiting
for the translation from his aide, Silas pondered the rotund and
meticulously groomed Tama and his dozen guards with quiet contempt. Heeding
his cousin's call for someone he could trust, and seeking a break from the
dull city life, Silas now wondered if killing Lord Roundbottom and his
Ladies in waiting wouldn't be a better use of his time. Sierus had filled
him in on the shifty Lord and Silas was keen to any attempted sabotage to
their plans, though he already suspected cowardice would be the likely
reason for such rather than any scheme of intellect. Looking to Matsui he
replied "Tell him Death is patient and heeds it's own schedule..." And
walked his charger forward allowing the follow ons to begin to file past.

As Tama's contingent made it's way from the cut where the road entered the
hills, just over a mile and a half across the flat fields the muffled sound
of riders slowly grew as small figures exited the forboding gloom of the
Osaka Woods in small clusters that grew in numbers, slowing to gather in
some semblance of order. Ignorant to this development Tama was engaging in
a diatribe extolling the troops on the honor and glory of serving under his
banner according to the whispered translation. Paying little attention to
the presumptuous bragging, Silas surveyed the growing numbers in the field,
as his charger met the attempt to raise a cheer with a long, loud breaking
of wind and shake of it's jingling harness. The equine's opinion brought a
grin and pat on the neck from Silas and a few stifled chuckles from the
passing footmen to Tama's obvious wounded ego. A last check to settle his
armor and shield, Silas thought back to his cousin's parting words. "You've
always known what had to be done, Silas.. When the time comes, and I trust
you will know it, you simply have to decide to see it done.." , Simple and
vague, Sierus being Sierus, aggravating as ever.

Turning at last to regard the swelling numbers, numbers now exceeding his
own, Tama shifted nervously in his saddle giving a command to his standard
bearer who held the banner aloft waving as though signalling to the
gathering force. It was then that the noise of a second group of riders
emerging from a cut to his left and forming in good order to bear down upon
the flank of the enemy force came to the Lord of Tokaido's notice, along
with the crimson and gold lion's banner of Kaito Averitt, Emperor of Dojia.
Glancing between the two groups of riders, and mindful of his own numbers,
Tama's instinct for self-preservation rose once more with the order "Prepare
to move! We go to guard the Emperor's flank!"
Taking in the enemy's
movement, the lay of the field and the pieces in play, Silas saw it clearly.
Only a moment's hesitation as Matsui translated the order occurred as Silas
knew the moment had come and he reached inside the cuff of his bracer to
raise a folded parchment bearing the imperial seal and in a tone of command
that nearly shocked him yelled "NO!"

Writer: Sierus

Date Mon Aug 13 16:56:03 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm Rp )

Subject The Anvil Rings

The echo of the single word carried over those assembled with effect
shown in the sudden hush of the nearby soldiers, the confused looks among
the lord's guards, and stunned countenance of Lord Tama himself. The steady
blue-eyed Vai'Kel gaze fixed on Tama as Silas passed the writ to Matsui to
open and read aloud. The aide raised his voice for All to hear as he read
"It is Our Imperial pleasure and perogative that at convenience or need, the
honorable Silas Vai'Kel be recognized as Our Imperial Voice in command of
the forces of Our Loyal subjects from Tokaido until such time as Our
Imperial Will decrees otherwise. Such is Our Imperial Command and bears the
weight of law in life and death over All Our Honorable Subjects of Dojia...
Signed His Imperial Honor, Kaito Averitt, by Right Emperor of Dojia.."

Matsui held the writ aloft turning so All could recognize the imperial seal
as the Lord of Tokaido seethed and purpled in rage.

"LIES! Kill this foreign dog! Kill him now!" Tama nearly shrieked. The
bodyguard nearest Silas had only managed to draw his sword half-way before
the edge of the shield adorned with the Vai'Kel crest smashed into his face
with a sickening, jaw-shattering crunch. Silas cleared his lance from it's
socket as the charger reared and dropped bearing the levelled point into and
through the next guard as the remainder drew weapons and sought to encircle
him. Releasing the lance, his towering steed turned a circle lashing out
with it's hooves fore and aft as he drew his sword parried cuts coming in
from one side and blocked those on the other with his shield. The stark
difference in style and quality of arms became apparent quickly as the
heavily barded and hulking charger knocked aside the smaller and lighter
horses, and the heavier chain armor and wide heavy blade Silas bore shrugged
off the edge of lighter blades and his own blows rent the boiled leather and
ceramic ornamental armor of his opponents, often snapping the bones beneath.
The proof was plainly visible in the four downed riders and ineffectiveness
of those who stepped to take the place of the fallen, a sight finally
emboldening Matsui and others to engage the hated bodyguards.

Seeing the turn of fortune before him clearly, Tama turned and charged back
down the road and into the hills, his 3 remaining guards struggling to
follow while dodging the occasional spear thrust from the generally confused
follow on ranks. The remaining guards dispatched or subdued, Silas turned
his attention where it belonged and hollered out orders for Matsui to relay,
calling spear and pikemen to form a block on the road while the riders were
arrayed in lines to either side discouraging any attempts at passage up
either side of the cut. While this occurred, Kaito's charge had already hit
the enemy's flank, tearing men away as a lion's claw rend flesh from the
sides of it's prey, and had begun turning back to begin another furious
swipe as his archer's added to the mayhem in a cloud of arrows passing
overhead to disrupt and add to the carnage of the now disarrayed foe.
Kaito's next pass broke even the sense of safety in numbers and the rout
began as self-preservation became the rule. What few reached the mouth of
the hills found only more ruin, for the field belonged to Fatale, and the
ravens and Dragoth would get their fill.

Writer: Kaeira

Date Thu Aug 16 14:11:14 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Returning Home

The halls of Gareth's Keep resonated with a gentle holiness that had a way of
washing away weariness and worries. There was a definitive comfort strolling the
aged halls of stone, in knowing the history within the mortar, and in sharing a
purpose with the many others that resided within.

Strolling through the eastern halls, Kaeira's booted feet struck a rhythm of
soft familiarity. The slightly stale smell of tapestries and aged wood, over-
taken by the hint of Sir Stanley's bread that permeated everything but the oils
and incense (until you went into the stables) filled her nose, as uplifting as
anything she could imagine. Sounds she dreamed of alighted upon her ears - the
many conversations of knights, the ringing of blade against shield, horses with
sure stride over the cobbles, mantras and prayers, laughter, shouts from drill
instructors or Knights to their Pages and Squires.

She remembered it all, had missed it All with the dull ache of someone sent a
great distance from home, though she had not been far - had never gone far in a
physical sense. The misunderstanding with her paperwork had been devestating to
her. In a way, it had sapped her spirit and clouded over her dreams. For a time
she had even given in to the Sleep that often overtook the Heroes of the Realm.
Eventually, though, she had woken, and she had engaged herself with renewed and
determined purpose. With enough odd jobs, she had even secured promise of the
funds she would need to pay for new papers and rejoin the Keep, to return Home.

Only, the Lord Crown Thrakhath had beaten the payment's arrival and so she
had found herself once more in the Halls she dearly loved and treasured faster
than she could have anticipated. It had taken a few days for the jitters to go
away, which had made her exceptionally more chatty and energetic than normal,
but once she had settled back into her familiar role of enchanting and gabbing
she had found a deep comfort of the heart she had missed. It was true that she
felt she still had a great deal to learn about being a member of Gareth, but a
certain sense within her head and spirit told her she was where she was meant
to be.

Her soft footfalls ceased as she found herself in the midst of the Octagonal
Temple's great space.

Writer: Kaeira

Date Thu Aug 16 15:20:48 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Returning Home, Part Two

Gray eyes, ones that tended to express themselves by shifting from a pale hue
to shades dark like a storm-tussled sea, drifted over the many intricate and
ornamental carvings that decorated the temple. Against her chest, she hugged a
heavily inked tome - less a journal and more of a sorry mess of disjointed notes
and thoughts that happened to strike her. After a moment of searching carefully
she opened her tome, resting the spine in her palm, and began to make notes in
a quick, clear script.

While she worked, her mind divided itself between her work and recent events.

In particular, a little smile tugged at her lips while she thought of Squire
Enora Hale. She liked Enora, and felt within the woman a similar desire to do
good in the world, and the desire to leave some kind of mark with the brief, if
eventful, time that they had as humans in a realm that favored more long-lived
races. That was why she had sought out Enora's knowledge and book-loving trait
to help her sort through the dusty mysteries of the Keep and its library. They
had traded notes, swapped information, and then the hunt had continued.

The Dracon of Justice.

Kaeira wondered what it looked like. There were no drawings of it, and it
was certainly not likely to be anything she could imagine. Less likely was she
to ever enter the towers of the Conclave, where she had heard rumored that a
fragment of the Draconus still rested safely. Some of the old records stated
that more fragments had been given to the likes of Thaxanos and Storm Keep,
but who would she ask about that? Where would the answers be found?

Shaking her head, she scratched out a few jumbled lines that hadn't formed
properly before she turned the page. She rubbed her palm against the edge of
the page to smear away some ink, then went back to her work.

Of particular interest, the Keep was host to a great wealth of knowledge,
but it was scattered, disjointed, and often incomplete. What the Loremaster
Sehvelarious had probably seen as complete documents did not always make full
sense to her, because it relied on a more intimate knowledge of the world and
its history, or knowledge of other documents buried somewhere in the massive
library. Granted, the collection itself was impressive, but for those like her
it was a chore and headache to try to sort through even a little of it. She
preferred more oral traditions when it came to passing on stories. Granted, it
was probably why she had forgotten a great number of her tale repertoire, and
she briefly wondered if she could still call herself a Storyteller if that was
the case.

Writer: Kaeira

Date Thu Aug 16 15:47:24 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Returning Home, Part Three

Pausing to give her head another shake, Kaeira grinned to herself.

It likely didn't matter how many tales she still had tucked inside her noggin
so long as she still embraced the traditions of spreading them to a willing and
interested audience.

Her thoughts returning to the Dracon, she wandered out of the Octagon and to
the Museum to the west. There, she spent some time dusting off various pieces
that had gone neglected for a while. When she had cleaned off what she wanted a
good look at, she picked her notebook back up.

She wasn't sure if the Font was a replica, or the original, but the plaque on
its base left her with more questions that made her brow furrow. Thus far, all
she had managed to piece together was that the yaenni had pillaged the original
Keep, and in doing so they had stolen the Dracon of Justice. Assumption lead to
the thought that they returned to their place with it, which was called Dae'tok
if she understood properly, but... During her discussion with Enora they were
in agreement that Dae'tok no longer existed. Why? Where was it, or where had it
been, exactly? Why did it no longer exist? When it was destroyed was it looted,
or had the event been more natural in occurrence? How come the yaenni did not
re-build it if it was their homeland? More importantly to her, if the Dracon
had indeed been taken to Dae'tok, then what had become of it during Dae'tok's
destruction and subsequent fading from prominent history? Finally, why were all
of the Dracons important, and if they were so important why was there not still
an active effort to recover what had been stolen from them?

Finishing her notes, Kaeira wriggled her nose and closed her tome with her
quill tucked into the crease of the pages. She then tucked the book under her
arm, holding it in place with the support of her palm.

Though it had been a very brief meeting her mind drifted over the words that
Sir Gwaine had offered her about the divine will of the gods they served. He
had repeated more than once that it was her justly earned right to some things
and that if it was meant to be, then eventually it would come to pass. Touching
the central medallion upon her brow, the one for Austinian, she let a faint
hint of doubt come forward before shutting it back out, hard. A living legend,
a founder of the very life she was choosing to live, had offered her encourage-
ment and she was not going to ignore that.

Turning, she headed toward the War Room and took the stairs lightly to return
to the main floor. From there, she turned west and passed through the Temple of
Nadrik to reach the Chapel of Fallen Heroes.

Writer: Kaeira

Date Thu Aug 16 16:05:02 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Returning Home, Final

Entering the Chapel, Kaeira removed her faceguard and tucked it into a pocket
of her great-coat. Her steps, like All the sounds of the Keep, were muffled in
the holy space. Her heartbeat, steady and strong, echoed in her own ears as she
made her way deeper within, until she came before the ark. Reaching out, she
rested her gloved palm upon its golden surface and then turned her eyes toward
the plaque embedded within the stones.


To those who walked these halls before us, we remember.
To those who fought before us, we remember.

We remember your courage and your strength.
We remember your virtue and your honor.
We remember your faith and your loyalty.

To those who walk these halls,
To those who fight the one and only war,

To those who will walk these halls long after we are gone,

You are the Shield.
You are the Weapon.
You are the Wrath.
You are the Light.

Remember those gone before.


The message had always touched her. Whether because of Sir Draugrbane's
tale, or her own, or a blending of the two, she felt a personal responsi-
bility to do exactly as the plaque encouraged: Remember.

She was who she was because of the reflections of others that she carried
within her heart. Their words and actions echoed within her as surely as all
she had said and done with others was now a part of them. That truth was one
that could be frightening, but she knew she would strive to do her best in
making sure that All her words and actions would be positive ones, would be
a living demonstration of Austinian's light and glory. She knew, of course,
that there would be times she would fail and falter, that her inner heart's
shadows would win out over the light she would try to cultivate, but those
revelations no longer terrified her, no longer held her back.

She wondered if that was what it meant to be prepared to take the mantle
of Knight - not that she had reached a place of near-perfection, but that
she was at peace with her beliefs and herself as a person enough that she
could go forward with confidence. Would her convictions in the rightness of
her path be the Shield that she sought, and would her faith in the Goodness
of Austinian and the others that watched over Gareth become her Lance? Would
her heart, where her prayers and her lessons blended, become the Crown that
shone over All that Gareth stood for?

Well, she couldn't say for certain without the gift of foresight, but she
did know that she was Home, and that whatever happened from the on was as
it should be, just as Sir Gwaine had said.

A smile on her features, and a calmness in her spirit, Kaeira bowed her
head and left the Chapel. There was work to be done.

Writer: Nymaya

Date Thu Aug 16 23:35:36 2018

To All Shadow Eclipse Verminasia Necrucifer (RP)

Subject The Fracture

Days and nights passed with a surreal flow of time.

She had never felt it quite like this before. In Shalonesti, time had all
but stood still for her and many others. Change was typically slow to
occur. Outside of the Vallenwood, she had had to immerse herself in the
faster pace of the many short-lived races and most of the elves she
encountered had also adopted this general mindset and mannerism.

On this, she found herself drawn to spend vast amounts of time in
contemplative quiet. Days would pass in the quiescence of a shrine, in the
empty shadow of a temple alcove. Weariness didn't matter, sleep offered no
comfort and her prayers fell into the vast pit where once His presence had
been strong and undeniable.

Conversely, there were days where she felt the passing of every minute.
Pacing in the War Room like a caged beast, watching the slant of the sun's
light inching across the floor, engulfed in a silence born of fury and

The pitfalls in her mind yawned wide and she knew she had withdrawn in lieu
of too much. Too much time. Too many questions and a cup that overflowed
with varying amounts of fury and a transcendent hatred.

She'd witnessed enough history, knew enough about the mannerisms of people
and even Gods, to feel a certainty she firmly wished she didn't.

'If this is to be our end, then so be it. I will die as I have lived.'

Anger tightened her jaw as she revisited the conversation, set her nerves on
edge, even as understanding fed her despair and resolve.

'I suppose that is the best we can ask for. There'll be no reward for our
dedication and faith.'

'There will not be. Vengeance and retribution will have to suffice.'

She hadn't lived, not in a long time. Grasping to that had been like
learning to walk and then run again after a long, debilitating illness that
saps even color from the vision. She'd been existing in the grip of
vengefulness and betrayal already. Retribution had been a long and empty
dream for her thus far.

What had been taken, truly destroyed in the aftermath of the Black Moon,
was trust. Not just hope, not just a greater cause and a vision that had
been worth everything, but the trust of an entire following. That sort of
wound was unlikely to ever heal and no matter what happened from here on
out, nothing would ever be the same.

What she could foresee, what the patterns of the past suggested...

She shook her head, ran her hand over her face and back through her hair in
a gesture of utmost frustration before lifting her gaze toward the azure
desert sky. What she could foresee was not just change but an end, wrapped
in flames.

She had a feeling that their enemies were going to learn what true
desperation looked like.

Writer: Nymaya

Date Fri Aug 17 09:06:36 2018

To All (RP)

Subject Simple Comforts

The liquid was a rich amber, glimmering softly in the low warm light of a
long standing hearth.

It wasn't the high standard whiskey she had gotten used to in the lap of
'Kayen luxury' but it worked just the same. Her fingertips grazed the edges
of the low glass, turning it slowly while she watched the movement of the
liquid within. It was not a typical past-time for her, drinking had been
reserved for certain guests and visits, but during the rampage of the
Aspects she had found herself turning to it more often than usual.

She silently scoffed at those memories and lifted the glass, to take a slow
sip while her dark blue gaze roamed through the mostly empty tavern. The
hour was late, the desert's evening chill had settled in deep and the few
other patrons were huddled around their mugs at lonely tables.

The barkeep moved slowly, keeping half an eye to the establishment. She
knew him and had been remembered in turn. The Wali of New Thalos. She
closed her eyes on that memory while the glass touched to the table top with
a soft *clink*.

She had sunken into her booth seat, her legs stretched out, ankles crossed
under the table. There was simple enjoyment in the crackle of the hearth
fire, in the feel of the smooth glass beneath her fingers and the warmth of
the room. She was not expecting the presence that slid into the booth on
the other side of the table but opened her eyes, nonetheless, and found
herself gazing at the shadows within a deep hooded countenance.

"You can foretell?" Odd accent.

She spent several moments just gazing at the figure beneath the heavy cloak.
When she finally moved, it was to lift her glass of whiskey.

"Sometimes." She muttered and took a sip, which burned All the way down.
"Have to know what to look for." She finished with a sardonic edge.

It earned her a slow nod from her mysterious friend who then placed his hand
out on the table. His gloved fingers were wrapped around something. When
she didn't react, he reached his other hand out along the table top and
beckoned her. She set her glass back down slowly and placed her hand out
beside his. His closed fist opened over her palm, dropping a small metal

"The truth was always there." He said, not unkindly, and slid out of the
booth, though he paused by the table to look down at her. "'Time will prove
the virtue of your thoughts."

She wasn't sure if he'd spoken the words aloud or not but she'd been told
that before. In any case, the message was clear. She didn't need to look
at the object in her hand to know what it was, she could feel it.

Writer: Tamaska

Date Fri Aug 17 14:23:53 2018

To All Eclipse Shadow Verminasia Imm Rp Necrucifer

Subject The Battle Within

Seething and silent anger. That was probably the best description one
could give for the brewmaster over the last several weeks. She'd spoken
very little most of the time, except when the need had arisen for her to.
To say that she was angry was no where near enough of a descriptor. It
radiated from her very core and at times she was uncertain she could contain
or control it. So in silence she remained, trying to sort out her own
thoughts and emotions.

One of the younger d'Aerthe's, Tam hadn't lived through the challenges that
some of the others in Eclipse had. She hadn't experienced the wars,
hardships, and battles that had molded them into who they are now. There
had been experiences and challenges that she had faced but none as
challenging as what Eclipse had already faced since they had come together.

Still... There is nothing that can prepare one for a loss like this. One
can live a hundred lifetimes and still not be prepared to deal with the
crushing loss that is the death of one's God. The brewmaster remembered it
like it was merely moments ago. The breath had been completely stolen from
her lungs or at least it had felt that way to Tam. She had made her way to
the Eclipsian Sacrament, a Temple built by a Storm Priestess, because she
needed to try and catch her breath, to calm herself.

But the calm had never really come, the anger had continued to burn. She'd
gulped large drinks from the flasks on her belt but they did little to
quench it. The emotions battled in her like a raging storm, one moment the
anger consumed her and she wished to raze the realm in fire. The next she
felt the weight of their failure, it brought her to her knees each time it
gained control.

Some how she had fought through the war inside her that night and eventually
collasped in exhaustion. In the days and weeks since the battle on the
moon, she had managed to calm the storms even more though she felt as if the
days of complete calm were long gone. In a sense, any sort of innocence
that still remained in her views of the world or her beliefs had been burned
away, forever gone.

Hate, she had thought she knew it before but now they were like long lost
lovers. It kept her company in the darkest hours, kept her warm on the
coldest nights and when she needed it, there it was seething just below the
surface. That hatred pulled her through those weakest moments and now it
would make her stronger. It gave her focus and helped her find a purpose
once again. It was a constant companion that she welcomed.

Their enemies and even some of their allies seemed to relish in their loss
as if it meant they were beaten, that their purpose was gone. They had
flocked to it like starved carrion creatures. Their taunts and words only
served to feed the anger and hate that burned in the yinn. Their fight was
not done, their purpose was not over. Now it was more important than ever,
backs against the wall is when the monsters are unleashed.

Writer: Sierus

Date Sat Aug 18 15:57:54 2018

To Arkane All ( Cayenna Imm Rp )

Subject The Echoing Roar

The steady clink of picks, shovels and chisels employed by the many
workers provided the percussion to the music of various bird calls and
chanting in the early morning upon the road entering the northern approach
of the Kurotaka Hills. Sitting astride horses, the work's progress upon
this newly seized territory was observed by the two men who saw it as the
final line of a message they had agreed to send to the shokonese emperor
weeks ago. Two large basalt obelisks had been raised on either side of the
road's beginning being steadily chiseled as other groups of workers pried
loose cobblestone pavers and yet another group replaced those stones with
bleached skulls bearing a blackened hourglass symbol from carts heaped with

"Very creative indeed Gaijin.. Oh, forgive me, Lord Tonbo.." The Dojian
emperor Kaito said and chuckled gustily at his companion before continuing,
"We'll see if this helps you maintain your expanded territory.. I remain
With a sigh of resignation at the name he was commonly being
referred to as, the Lord of the northern province replied, "Every battle
begins in the mind, Kaito.. I'm just giving them something to think on.."

Grinning as the emperor shooed at a dragonfly circling his head, Tonbo
continued "If they press the issue, the added numbers Itsuki and I will be
training will make what happened in the Osaka Woods look like a tickle
Kaito rubbed his chin a moment before replying "I am afraid Itsuki
will no longer be available for your service.. You'll have to find someone
else to aid you."
Turning with a look of surprise at the emperor, the lord
asked "Why? Itsuki has done exceptionally at everything I have asked of
him, when are you going to see the man instead of the little brother?"
emperor simply shrugged at the protest continuing to snatch at empty air as
the dragonfly darted about evading him. "Itsuki will do as I require of
him. As is demanded of ALL my subjects, Lord Tonbo.."
The emperor intoned
with hint of command and a sideways glance, "He will be much too busy to be
your manager, you will simply have to train another. I require him to apply
what he has learned in shoring up Tokaido as it's new lord."
despite the subtle rebuke Tonbo began "Matsui could.." Before being cut
off with a grunt of negation from the emperor. "No.. Matsui is busy
soothing the lords upset at the notion of arming and training the common
folk.. As well those whose daughters your cousin encountered... A rash of
children named Silas will not sit well with them.."
The emperor snapped
grumbling to himself as Tonbo tried to cover a snicker and grin with a cough
and his hand.

Down upon the road the worker stepped back from the obelisk blowing dust
from the freshly engraved words beneath the rampant lion seal of the emperor
and House Averritt. He glanced back at Itsuki for final approval and asked
"This is as you wished it, Master Itsuki?" Itsuki inspected the work a
moment and nodded approval stepping to trace his fingers along the three
lines of writing, "The Lion has roared, Tread lightly upon the Unwise, Death
travels the road"
, whispering "yes.. The message is sent.."

Writer: Enora

Date Sun Aug 19 16:57:42 2018

To All Knighthood Kaeira ( Imm ) Kantilles

Subject Of Squires and Puzzles

The library had become a place of comfort for Enora. She loved the books
and the scrolls, the stories and the history. The ghosts of the past were
her friends, and she had taken it upon herself to care for them. In return,
they gave her knowledge without judgement. Without giving disapproving
looks if she lingered too long. They cared for her, too, in a way that only
silence could do for someone like herself.

Someone who lacked the confidence to speak up, and to others.

So common was her "station" within the library that most, if not All of the
knights within Gareth's Keep knew of her love for the books. That she would
know answers to questions or knew how to find them. It was why fellow
squire Kaeira Eareen came to her. The bookworm would know where to find an
answer to a puzzle that spanned generations, right? Enora could try, at the
very least, to help. And so she followed Kaeira, which only pulled her into
a rabbit hole of questions. Questions leading to more questions. Questions
answered by questions. Questions that went in circles with no clear or
obvious answer.

Enora immediately agreed to Kaeira's proposal, not just because she wanted
to help solve this puzzle, but also she felt more... Comfortable around
this rowdy woman. She was almost the complete opposite of Enora, and yet...
And yet, the quiet librarian found herself drawn to the self-proclaimed
storyteller. She felt it easier to speak with her fellow squire, her

The thought of having a friend made Enora smile... Which faded some when
she looked up at the series of books in front of her. Right. She was
trying to solve a puzzle. Those series of numbers Kaeira found were similar
to the ones she had found, as well as the numbers from Acre St. John's
missives that had been buried in the bookcases. It had something to do with
the Dracons, and defenses, and the Templar Brotherhood. So far, she had
found nothing that would lead her towards the answers she desired.

Sighing, Enora pushed her glasses to the top of her head and rubbed her
eyes. So many missing links. But she wouldn't stop. She made a promise to
herself, and a silent one to Kaeira, that they would fill in those missing
holes. She put her glasses back in place, and reached for a book on top of
one of the many stacks she had gathered at the table. She would go back to
the beginning. It was always a good place to start, and if she missed
anything on the first read-through, she'd find it on the second. If not the
second, then the third.

She opened the book, deciding the Dragonvale would be the best place to

Writer: Veronnica

Date Mon Aug 20 00:10:35 2018

Writer: Draphinamina

Date Mon Aug 20 08:22:13 2018

Writer: Natalie

Date Mon Aug 20 10:35:10 2018

Writer: Aibranan

Date Mon Aug 20 13:21:08 2018

Writer: Faythe

Date Wed Aug 22 07:14:17 2018

Writer: Nehtur
Date Thu Aug 23 23:04:55 2018

Writer: Nehtur
Date Fri Aug 24 21:19:34 2018

Writer: Rasavadi
Date Fri Aug 24 22:59:06 2018

To Crelius Reklah Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Imm RP

Subject Something Deep Within Doth Sleeps (1)

A familiar voice was heard, "You have been summoned." Familiar, yet
changed, hollow, devoid of the subtle emotion defining most living beings.
Learning of the meeting place, Rasavadi made his way to the appointed
meeting place with the aid of Queen Ashtiel's magic.

Standing on the docks of the port the normal sounds of shipboard and port
life could be heard. Gull cries peppered the mangling of separate
conversations overrunning each other. Then silence. The ring of steel upon
stone could be heard, yet no one aside from Rasavadi appeared to be in shod
boots. Always one to know the value of an entrance, a robed Crelius touched
Rasavadi on the shoulder and beckoned him to follow. Raising his weapon in
salute Rasavadi could not help but notice the form that beckoned him was not
fully solid. It wavered between his human, normal, appearance and a
semi-translucent, corpse-like visage of azure hue with varying degrees of

Crelius lead on across the coastline to a forest. A million thoughts
broiled in Rasavadi's brain while he tried to memorize the path. It was
apparent the Crelius had been in the abyss again. He had felt as much when
he disappeared from this plane of existence and the Hammer reacted to the
severing. "I surmised correctly then. Verra, Nir, and Isadore had been at
least partially successful in binding him as a death knight." He thought to
himself. After some distance, they entered a foul swamp. Gone were the
normal sounds of life, or even those of Dragoth's blessings, as you would
expect this far out in the wilderness. Eventually, they came upon a ruined,
marble tower of some sort. Broken headstones with epitaphs in various
languages, some unknown even to Rasavadi, and destroyed, angelic statues
littered the grounds. A ruined portcullis littered the empty entryway, and
yet they proceeded and descended into the bowels of the tower.

Entering the sacellum there was more of the statues and epitathal ruins. In
the center was what appeared to be an angel which had been defiled, and
beheaded, in untold centuries before in a battle long forgotten. All this
being illuminated by a dull, azure, pulsating glow coming from Crelius
visage. Such an appearance fit in with the decor All too well. Descending
down the cracked flagstone staircase a sad wail of a being in torment could
be heard which seemed to get louder with every step. The smell of stagnant
dust and decay became slowly peppered with that of sulfur and brimstone.
Paintings of ages untold adorned the walls. Some scenes being recognizable
from recorded history, some appeared to be older than the tapestries of the
Dragon's Vale sit dust and web covered giving them a decayed, somber tone in
the obscuration of detail. Still, Crelius descended to further into the
depths. Rasavadi's ears perked up as he noticed the ring of steel on stone
continued no matter what was underfoot. Be it bog, wood or actual stone.

As they walked further, and further into the depths the empty wail of
horror, despair and loss gave way to the stench of the pits of hell.
Anxiety, panic, and despair raised a gorge in Rasavadi's throat as relived
eighty years of torment, torture, and worse at the hands of the Aspects of
Sin with every step. Gone was the faint light from Crelius' ethereal form
as it was swallowed whole by the unnatural darkness. Even the orange tinge
from the lava fought tooth and nail barely extending its reach beyond the
edges of its confines. This reaction did not go unnoticed. Crelius slowed
his steps some as Rasavadi's faltered yet there was naught but silence.
Such things must be faced alone after all. Slowly Rasavadi regained his
composure, in part, and quickened his pace to finally arrive at the

Face to face now with the ancient Highlord, whom should have been long, long
dead by now, Rasavadi attempted to focus on the wavering form but was unable
to. " What... What happened to you? " He choked out.

Writer: Rasavadi

Date Fri Aug 24 23:04:16 2018

To Crelius Reklah Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Imm RP

Subject Something Deep Within Doth Sleeps (2)

Crelius ignored the rhetorical question, as he is wont to do, and looked
into the Yinn's eyes. His own eyes faded in and out from an unearthly glow
to their azure flecked black. Waving his hand, the second ethereal one
trailing slightly behind, the wall sconces lighted. The light they shed was
blueish and barely diminished the oppressive darkness. Behind Crelius,
Rasavadi could see the black, gaping maw of a hole in the floor. "I've
found what we did not wish to seek.
" His voice dead, hollow, and layered
with a delay as if there were two speakers slightly out of sync with one

He paused for a breath and continued, "The fires have dimmed. She has
touched everything...
" His ethereal form took a breath, while his material
one continued on. The alternation in the forms melding and separating
together, each speaking their sentence, never pausing was disconcerting, to
say the least. Rasavadi looked through the visage to the hole behind
Crelius and he said, "still there are places she cannot go. " The last
words sighed out as his head turned to what must be the portal to the abyss.

"There is a chance that All might be rectified. " The words struck him like
a blow. Rasavadi looked back at the spectre and raised his eyebrow. The
red dragonhelm he always wore was specially articulated so that facial
expressions would show. To show those he spoke with what they wanted to
believe. To those who were enemy, they always twisted his visage into one
of anger, hate, and mockery, to his brothers and sisters simple emotion.
"What you possess will cast All foes to the winds. Did you bring what I
requested you bring?
" The voices interleaving, sentences intermingling,
yet they were still intelligible. "
I did. " Rasavadi deadpanned back. He
reached his hand back to his belt hook hovering the plate glove over the
handle of The Hammer. It blackened lightning arcing to the glove rejecting
his approach. "If it means sacrificing the souls of Eclipse to bring His
return, I will do so. " He growled at the pain and weapon. Though he
possessed the Hammer, he was not its master.

"No.... Not that. Not yet. " Crelius retorted loudly, a howling chorus of
tortured wails joining in the admonishment. "Should you wish to see his
return, then you must return it to me. " The air hung heavy between them
then. Rasavadi inquired about how long he would last concerned about the
fate of the Hammer and the very Soul of Eclipse. "That is not the point. "
Crelius replied to the line of questioning. "I'll not have it lost to the
winds, or abyss where She can get it! "

"I will join the souls that dwell within it. And it will be returned to you
when such a joining has become manifest. " So this was it, the actual end
of Crelius. He would finish what Verra, Isadore, and Nir had become and
finish binding himself, with the rest of the Ceriloch, to the Hammer. "You
will then lift it and wield it as our rightful lord. " Being able to wield
the Hammer, lead the Knight's to battle as Highlord proper had been his
dream from childhood. It was every son or daughter of the Eclipse's dream,
but the cost. The cost was too much. "With the power of the Ceriloch at
your command." Crelius continued as Rasavadi

Writer: Rasavadi

Date Fri Aug 24 23:08:06 2018

To Crelius Reklah Eclipse Shadow Verminasia All Imm RP

Subject Something Deep Within Doth Sleeps (Final)

Nlatching the upper and lower mandible of his helm Rasavadi removed it to
see Crelius' face unfiltered. The helm, as designed, resisted removal. The
protective gel which lined it and protected his destroyed flesh adhered well
and an audible 'suck' and 'pop' echoed through the somber chamber as it
finally released. For several seconds, though they would feel like hours to
him in memory, Rasavadi stared into Crelius' face trying to judge whether or
not he would fulfill the request. Without removing his eyes he grasped the
Hammer's handle. Blackened lightning crackled, snapped and lashed out at
his touch snaking through the plates of his armor torching the tender flesh
underneath. While he held a grimace of pain he handed the Hammer to Crelius
while smoke billowed from between the plates. "I don't claim to know the
process you were once subjected to or will finish now." Taking a breath
through clenched teeth he finished "But I will hunt that down to the ends of
the heavens or abyss. " and relinquished control of the Hammer.

"I will take this below. Where I will see that it strikes the remnants of
my spirit and that I am bound... Before the traitorous queen can lay hold
of me or those that lay therein. " He said looking at the Hammer
thoughtfully. "I will do All with what is left of my essence to return this
to the realms of man. Should I fail you must seek out one, a Purist. One
known as Reklah Kayen.
" The two forms strung the sentences in a continuous
flow of chatter. Each in their turn to create the illusion that he was not
breathing. "He could show you the way.... Or... There may be another
way." He stammered slightly in thought. "I've left a path through the
catacombs to return to here." Crelius turned his head again from Rasavadi's
direction to the pit which leads to the abyss. "Pray it does not come to

Turning his head back, power creeping into his voice as both visages
aligned. "I go now then, to take my rest among the Highlord's of yore.
Find the hammer and our power will be yours. "

"The power will be the Eclipse's and the Lord's as such. " Rasavadi replied
wistfully as his vocal cords tightened at the loss of one so great.

"Do not suffer fools. The black winds will call... " His voice trailing
off into nothing leaving a hollow emptiness in his place as his form
diminished into nothingness.

"Until you are called again to serve then, Highlord. " Rasavadi choked out
through the tears as he saluted one final time.

Writer: Nehtur

Date Sat Aug 25 17:03:14 2018

Writer: Kaeira

Date Sun Aug 26 14:51:07 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Hidden Heartaches

Returning from her long-range patrols, Kaeira took a deep breath of the Keep
air. Her nose captured the familiar smells and she felt a bit of tension drain
away out of her body. Her neck and shoulders in particular eased and she rolled
her head on her shoulders, lifting a hand to massage at her nape as she paced
deeper inside, heading for the Altar room that the Knights and Knight-hopefuls
all shared as a place of rest.

Greeting Jornhya with a smile she gathered her copies of the realm's missives
and settled down on the pew to catch up on events. Only, as she read, she felt
a concerned frown tug at her lips and crease her brow.

Peace with Storm Keep.

She had to read the words nearly five times before she was certain she had
actually seen them. She finished reading through her missives. A letter from
the Crown General, but nothing from General Mercerion, which she found more
than a little odd, considering the circumstances and her new mentoring Knight's
shared fondness for verbose letters. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth,
and then set about inquiring with the few Knights that were on duty so early in
the morn, but few had answers.

For the first time in a very long time she felt deeply conflicted.

She already disapproved of the fact that they condoned the Conclave harboring
the undead fiends like Donimas and Tesla. While she could understand wanting to
promote good relations with those of Kantilles, and Sebatis (to a degree), she
was uncertain why it was that the Conclave allowed those creatures to run amok
within the world, spoiling the institutes (relatively) good name as a bastion
of learning. Instead, they seemed more like a clubhouse of undisciplined kids
in need of a firm backside handling. In her mind, after all, demons were not a
creature of their Plane. What right did they have to learn of hard-earned and
valuable mortal secrets?

Though that likely heavily tied in with her desire to purge All such things
out of existence, but she was certain that a Vampire's motives would never
truly align with that of the Conclave. Thus, their flawed acceptance of those
fiends from the Abyss was an eyesore and allowing them Peace was... unbearable.
Yet that was what the Officers had decided, so she held back.

Writer: Kaeira

Date Sun Aug 26 14:52:30 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Hidden Heartaches, Part Two

Now, news of Peace for their longest-standing enemy in a time when they all
should be pressing the advantage. Repent and atone in this life... or trouble
the world no more. Was that not their mission against those of Evil upon all
of Algoron? Men and women of Storm had lost their God, and while she did pity
the hurt that such loss could inflict upon a soul she could not fathom any
reason to give them quarter, to allow them to regroup and coordinate. Surely
there were no men or women within Storm Keep that would sincerely give thought
to turning away from the Darkness. If they were considering such then they
would leave their Keep. More than ample time for mourning had passed.

With a heavy sigh, Kaeira got to her feet. She left her missives and her work
of the day behind as she made her way up to the second floor of the Keep. She
went to the Octagonal Temple as she often found herself doing and settled down
upon a bench that allowed her to gaze upon the mural of Compassion.

She placed her hands in her lap and forced herself to breathe slowly. One,
two, three, in. One, two, three, out. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Twenty cycles,
even after she had felt herself grow calm and felt her heart slow.

Her eyes took in the paint of the mural -- the colorful patterns on the bard's
clothing, and the way the sunlight glinted on his mandolin. She looked at the
grime and grit upon the beggar's features and the way the coins tumbled through
the air. She swept her gaze over the shadows that barely existed beneath both
of the figures and the fine detailing of the plumage on the bard, the tears in
the rags on the beggar. For a moment she thought how sad it was that the bard
would only spare a few coins when even a little more effort would likely change
the beggar's entire life.

A brief wave passed over Kaeira, the kind that happened when she had been too
energetic, or too angry, though the latter was thankfully rare these days. It
left her feeling a little flushed and momentarily weak, but she knew it was a
sign of progress in her thoughts and her feelings.

Perhaps, much like the beggar in the mural, those of Storm only needed a true
opportunity -- a little more effort than a mere coin in passing. Perhaps, much
like the man who had been the path to her own salvation, she needed more kind
thoughts toward others and more motivation to express Austinian's tireless and
truly radiant love. She could still remember how the man had listened with the
kind of patience she still had trouble fathoming... until her ears heard the
voice of Sir Falric Marwyn, the High Justice.

Writer: Kaeira

Date Sun Aug 26 14:55:05 2018

To All Knighthood ( Imm ) Austinian

Subject Hidden Heartaches, Final

Distracted in a way, she pressed her lips together and wondered at the older
Knight's incredible... collectedness. She had seen him worry and think, but at
the same time she had never truly heard condemnation, or anything close to it,
from him. It was quite true that she could count the number of conversations
they had shared on one hand, but each one had been memorable, including, and
perhaps especially, the one time she had taken confession.


Was that enough?

Shaking her head, she leaned back until her shoulders connected with the wall
and then she tilted her head back. Above her the old Shield of Wits, as she was
wont to call it, sat dusty and immutable within the wall. The design of it was
older than most things within the temple and she had spent her fair share of
time, as All Pages usually did, staring at it and pondering the questions that
it put forth. She had been quick to figure out the first answer that it posed,
but was not quick to admit that the follow-up questions still slightly eluded
her. Or rather, she was able to reason her way through them so quickly that it
startled her how much of her pirate nature still remained.

Was her inner fear part of the reason she was so quick to believe that not a
soul within Storm could find the path to forgiveness and salvation?

Was the deeply hidden demon that tried to slip into her thoughts the reason
she tried so hard to convince Kivrin that the shadows and remnants of darkness
were nothing to be ashamed of, or be disgusted by? If she had to accept that an
inkling of one's past would always taint her present, then could she still move
forward with the certainty she always tried to keep in her heart?

Tears blurred her vision briefly and she blinked them away, swiping her coat
sleeve over her eyes to remove the moisture before it become more than it was.

Fear leads to anger, and anger leads to hatred, and hatred is the source of

How easy it would be to slip into such thought patterns. How easily she had
fallen down that path before.

Standing up, Kaeira tugged her great-coat a little to adjust it, then turned
about the look at the Shield. Maybe Sir Falric would have some insight to share
but at the moment she felt the need for fresh air. The urge grew until she had
to try and stop her hands from shaking as she fished for a warpstone. She went
through the gate and found a familiar icy path, but after a point magic barred
her way. There, she stood, letting the self-pity bubble up for a time, wishing
for a moment that she could see her oldest friend's smiling face again.

Writer: Rasavadi

Date Mon Aug 27 13:21:53 2018

Writer: Zola

Date Tue Aug 28 18:12:36 2018

To All Bloodlust Darkonin Shadow Verminasia New_Thalos Immortals Fatale Kyri Shrek Ampersand

Subject X Storm's End - Reconnaissance X

Zola despised Thalosia.

There were numerous reasons for this. Its population was far too large,
which had resulted in a constant stream of beggars and orphans on the
streets. The Blood Lands would've never had such an overpopulation problem.
He also had a distinct distaste for the strong presence of the Lights
religion within the Desert Jewel. Though ostensibly a neutral faith
kingdom, it leaned heavily towards his natural opposition. But bothof those
reasons paled to his first and foremost reason:

It was entirely too bright.

The day was long and merciless here, with clouds a rarity in the sky and no
trees or hills or mountains to offer any shelter or respite. And it took
simply forever forthe hated daystar to sink on the horizon and for the
Deathscythe to slip out of the shadows and to finally go to work.

His destination lay to the south, just a little outside the gates and down
the winding desert road, which otherwise only lead deeper into the trackless
desert wastes. Normally, a lone traveler (particularly one without any sort
of provisions) might draw attention, but Zola moved as a shadow, unseen,
unnoticed. After a short walk, he found himself outside of the Shadow
stronghold: Storm Keep.

Zola had not pushed for this war, but he would be lying if he said he did
not revel in the fact it had finally come. Nor was he unprepared for it.
On the contrary, hecould have seen this coming from leagues away.

Zola watched, and waited. There wasn't much activity. There never was with
Shadow. He saw few members, and fewer still who ever bothered to look
outside. Oh there werealways exceptions. Even the Deathscythe respected
individual Shadow Knights as strong, dedicated, and disciplined. But as a
collective whole they had become a sad remnant of their former glory LONG
before their Master had perished.

Eclipse joining them had only made things so much easier. Zola had never
liked them, though he had respected a few. None of whom had been their
Highlord, whom he wouldrelish seeing laid low, by his hand or another's.
But that put the collective whole of them square in the sights of the
Dungeons eager, bloodthirsty killers and monsters. It was going to be a
slaughter on a scale unseen in centuries.

But for now, his role was reconnaissance. Study the enemy, find their
weakest points, return to the Warlord to let him and his Overlords exploit
them. When battle came, he intended to be here, calling down Fatale's fury,
but for now, patience was the virtue to adopt, and he took down diligent
notes on All he saw, then slipped away without ever being seen as more than
a shadow on the wind.

He needed to make one stop on his way back to the Dungeon. There was an
oasis nearby, and he sensed someone coming to drink from the tepid waters.
A wanderer, or possiblya desert nomad, but no one of importance. Just
someone parched and hoping to drink, unaware of the danger they were in.

Zola moved in, preparing to quench his own thirst.

Writer: Zola

Date Tue Aug 28 18:20:31 2018

To All Bloodlust Darkonin Shadow Verminasia New_Thalos Immortals Fatale Kyri Shrek Ampersand

Subject X Storm's End - Preliminary Plans X

Seemingly stepping right out of the shadows gave some of the more
inexperienced Minions quite a fright, but Zola swept past them with barely a
backward glance as he moved deeper into the Dungeon, heading towards the War

It had been several days since the new war had been declared, and already it
showed with newly invigorated membership in the Dungeon. Their numbers had
swelled to the point it was almost impossible to get anywhere without
stepping over a plethora of monsters, killers, and miscreants of All sorts.
Zola almost had to kill two goblins before they scurried out of his way,
leaving him free to make his meeting with Maccus ontime.

Before he brought the matter to the Overlord, he ensured he had everything
backed up by research. The Dungeon's Library wasn't extensive as his own,
but it wasn't half-bad either. If nothing else it had an extensive study of
brutal warfare tactics. He'd asked his protege Karian to assist, she was
well-versed in such things, unlike the majority of grunts and brutes who
comprised Bloodlust's Minions. Some of them could barelyspell their own

Documents in hand, Zola met with Maccus and laid them out on the table
before them. He kept things simple, knowing the man's attention wandered
even at the best of times. A single candle burned on the table beside them,
illuminating their work while keeping the rest of the room in dark shadows.

"The main gate to Storm Keep is here, " he said in a hollow tone, jabbing a
gloved finger at the point in question. "Even with Shadow's depleted
numbers, it is a single point of entry and well-defended. Not an option for
us. Even the Defiler would not be stupid enough to simply walk up to the
front gate and knock."

The Overlord made some vague noise of agreement, arms crossed, eyeing the
blueprints and plans thoughtfully.

Zola decided to spare him a great deal of searching, and shifted his finger
to point out something else. Maccus instantly saw what he meant, to judge
by the grin stretching out across his ruggedly handsome face. Just to be
safe, Zola spelled it out for him.

"A back way in, " he said. "Via the Ishtar river, where Shadow docks its
Purist. Much more difficult to defend and, so far as we've been able to
gather with our intel, has no defenses beyond the single Shadow ship itself.
If your Dread Pirates were to hit them with a concentrate attack at a
suitable time... Say, early morning, under cover of fog... Their ship
could be sinking and the harbor ours before they even knew what hit them."

The picture of such carnage must have appealed to Maccus, for his grin only
grew wider. Zola himself was positively giddy at the image presented,
thankful his mask and hood hid his enthusiasm. But the painted picture in
his mind, the seas red with blood, the barrage of cannon fire, the crash of
wood and the screams of the dying... it painted quite the pretty picture.

"Perhaps it is time to bring the Crimson Tide out of dry dock." he stated,
reaching over to snuff out the candle.

Writer: Tarkan

Date Thu Aug 30 14:11:54 2018

To All Arkane ( RP )

Subject Snug as a Bug in a Rug

"Five X-L!" Called out the tailor to his apprentice, as he took the
measuring strip away from Tarkan's body. Tarkan exhaled hard as he finally
released his breath from the measuring. "Five...? " questioned the Yinn.
The tailor nodded. "You're immense! You certainly ate your veggies as a
pup!" The tailor jested, "It's going to cost quite a bit to gather enough
material to cover a body built like that. You're a meat mountain, sir!"
Tarkan chuckled aloud, and turned to the mirror, flexing a little bit. Sure
enough, his colossal build was something to behold. But mention of the
materials made the Yinn conscious to the cost. Turning to the tailor, he
asked, "How much are we talking about?"

"About a blue diamond apiece, at least!" Exclaimed the tailor, "We're
talking about a LOT of silk and velvet... Not to mention the embroidery,
the dye, the dye binder... That is, if you don't want me to cut corners and
use cow urine base instead?" Tarkan shuddered in disgust. The tailor
nodded sagely, "I thought so. If you want me to use premium dye binder,
you're going to have to pay the price for the alchemists to develop
something that doesn't reek

"Can you show me a sketch of what I will look like when I'm done?" The Yinn
asked the tailor. The tailor beckoned to Tarkan, and he followed the tailor
to a mannequin dressed in the finest of Arkanian fashion. "Military
discount... I'd usually charge an egg for the whole set, but for you?
Thirty percent price drop for active duty." Tarkan extended a hand to the


Writer: Maccus

Date Thu Aug 30 22:06:43 2018

To Bloodlust Shadow All (Shrek Kyri Imm Rp)

Subject Orders given.

Maccus grumbled softly, stretching his left shoulder to the point of
popping. His eyes studied his office as he mused over the Cardinals plans.
He looked up at the Masked Swashbuckler sitting across from him, "How ready
can our men be to start raiding convoys and caravans?

The Swashbuckler cackled for a moment, his mask shaking against his face,
"When you Command them, Overlord". Maccus cracked his knuckles against the
desk, his eyes scanning over the room and finally notices the Wild-elf
sitting in the corner he motions for him to come stand at the desk

"Welcome to the big boys table. Gonna need you to pay attention if you want
any chance of surpassing The Dread Pirate
". The ship creaked back and forth
in the harbor, the silent chuckles the only other sound heard throughout the
ship. "Now. While I'd love to smash their ship now, I want to starve them
out. Make them desperate to come out and meet us. Their forces can be
overwhelming if we are caught unaware
" He places his hands at the edge of
the desk, beginning to squeeze down "Their weakness has made us All look
like fools, and they have to pay for it.

The Wild-elf merely smirked and nodded, the Swashbuckler pulling out one of
his blades and simply asks, "When do you want us to start? ". With a
simple flick of his wrist Maccus tossed a piece of gold to the Swashbuckler
and grins. The Swashbuckler cackled again, "That soon? Ambitious,

Maccus grinned at the Swashbuckler and nodded, "When the time is right we
will begin to bring the other Overlords into the plans as well, but we will
dominate the seas first
". He pounded his fist onto the table and dismissed
them both his eyes looking over the map layed out before his desk, marking
several spots along the ocean.

Writer: Maccus

Date Fri Aug 31 02:19:08 2018

To Amerith Katya All (RP)

Subject Old wounds...

Old wounds, and he knew for the life of him that they wouldn't leave
easily. Maccus dragged his right hand across his neck as he remembered the
last time he saw anything from the powers above. Watching the woman at his
desk be stripped of her magical prowess and for what? To be ignored again
for months on end once more?

He looked across his office to Amerith, sleeping in the hammock, looking
ever peaceful there while he worked endlessly. He leaned back in his chair
as the joints clicked and popped across his left side. His right hand
moving from his neck to his shoulder and whined. "Pathetic Maccus...
Letting something like that bother you!
". He grumbled at his own pathetic
attempt to rally his own senses.

He hurt, and he could feel it in every step he took. No amount of breaks
would cure his aching body. He took a deep breath as he reached underneath
his tunic, his fingers tracing across several of the deeper scars. His
thoughts drifted to his daughter, Katya. His mind began to spin and churn
thoughts about how he was as a father and how he actually treated her as his
only living child

He bit down on his bottom lip and whispers to himself 'Patience... If we do
not have it we will rush through things and fail
". He took a deep breath
and made his way to the hammock Amerith was sleeping in and joined her,
drifting to what sleep he possibly could......

Yet his mind remained active, almost If to torment him of thoughts of the
past. His body shook and shuddered while the nightmare racked through his
sleep. A soft hand pressed to his chest and whispered in his ear, "I am
right here love... Gentle... Gentle... Yes... I love you, Maccus
Stormbound, I am right here.
". Her words coursed through his mind,
snuggling in closer before he felt a soft kiss pressed to his forehead and
drifted in and out of what sleep he could.

Writer: Tarkan

Date Fri Aug 31 06:13:52 2018

To All Arkane ( RP )

Subject Dance Lessons

"And dip! "

Tarkan tried to lean on his back leg with his front leg outstretched. He
wasn't used to moving in such fancy clothes. The thought had occured to him
earlier that if there was any better time to test the radius of movement in
his new clothes, now was the best time to check. He was worried that all
the movement may either restrict him or otherwise the outfit may tear open,
causing him to have to pay yet another pretty amount of coin for a new
outfit, but for what it was worth the outfit moved surprisingly well.

"And flourish! "

Tarkan took a hand to his chest and his other hand outstretched to his side,
palm pulled back and fingers pointed to the ceiling. He was eager to go to
the ball prepared. He would not be caught off guard. He wanted not only to
dress to impress, but to move confidently as well. Justly so, he thought,
as the apple of his eye would be attending. The Yinn considered other
possibilities as well. What if she was preoccupied? What if he has to wait
extensively just for a moment to dance with her? What if another distracted
him with a dance and he missed his chance?

"Concentrate, Mister Tarkan. Wrist up! Contact! Dip! And... Turn! "

Not so different from combat footwork, Tarkan thought, as he was used to
unconventional movements in battle. Perhaps this would prove to be an
asset! Tarkan brought his wrist up against the teacher's, dipped, and then
rotated around clockwise for a half-circle before dipping again.

"Excellent, Mister Tarkan. Same time tomorrow! We will have you ready for
that ball yet!"

Tarkan beamed a smile to the teacher, grinning widely and locking a fist
behind his back as he bowed, hovering his free hand over is plexus. "It's
been a pleasure!"

Writer: Ceenuh

Date Sun Sep 2 14:39:04 2018

Writer: Arahnia

Date Sun Sep 2 23:18:45 2018

Writer: Annabel

Date Mon Sep 3 10:43:42 2018

Writer: Arahnia

Date Mon Sep 3 12:49:02 2018

Writer: Amerith

Date Mon Sep 3 23:09:36 2018

To All imm rp Maccus

Subject Eyes of Turbulence

Clad in a soft crimson sheet, which folds delicately over the curves of
her peach, skinned body, the shalonesti elf sleeps through the light taps
within her swelling abdomen, she whimpers softly but sleeps through a rough
jolt of the ship along the seas harsh waves, and she sleeps through the
chilled breeze that floats through the cabin, smelling of sea and tasting of
salt. It is not until her body rolls over along the large, soft rope
hammock trying to find his chest to touch amongst the duvet and pillows that
have been placed there likely for her comfort more than his, that her hazel
eyes slowly open. Her head still upon the black silk pillow, flaxen hair
curled around her face in a wavy, messy, charade lifts only slightly as her
brows knit tightly together and the longing sets in.

She twists her ankles in a small circle and stretches her arms above her
head, the fingertips of her left hand brushing the length of her
outstretched right arm. With care not to fall out of the hammock, which has
happened many, many times before, Amerith reaches across to a chest of
drawers taking her clothes, before pulling her white, chantilly gown over
her form tightening the lace corset around her bosom. As her eyes adjust to
the low light in the darkened room, the flame from a single, white wax
candlestick dance figures across her gentle face.

She looks towards the single door and with graceful steps moves forth.
Shivers run up her legs and around her torso, followed by a spring of
goosebumps caused by her bare feet touching down along the cold swath of the
wooden floor boards. Her eyelids fall heavy a moment, closing over sleepy
eyes. Her chest rises gently as she takes in a deep breath adjusting to the
cold that curls around her form. She reaches back to the drawers and takes
a long white velvet cloak, wrapping it tightly around her body, the lace
bottom clinging to her dress like a frightened child to its mother.

With a slight struggle, the young woman opens the heavy door to the large
cabin and is instantly stung with salty sea air, which sends her hair
against her skin like whips on bare flesh. She quickly gathers the blonde,
wavy locks and wraps them around her hand before tucking them under the hood
of her velvet cloak, stabbing the needle of her cloak pin closed tightly
around her neck before moving once more. She closes the heavy door of the
cabin, intent on keeping the little heat remaining within.

After twists and turns through dark, dank passageways, Amerith finally
reaches the deck of the ship and casts her eyes to the window where her love
sits working at a wooden desk responding to missives in solemn silence. She
watches his clover green eyes, and calloused hands move from one paper to
another, scrawling quick yet precise responses, with a grey feather pen.
Her eyes observe the dark expression upon his face and she looks down taking
in a soft sigh. Grazing her own eyes across the moonlit deck and back to
the sea, her hand touches gently upon her womb. She bites her bottom lip
and hmms quietly into the night. She thinks of her future, the life that
will be, the present and the turmoil she often sees, similar to that of the
quaking sea set in her view, and her past the shadowed, mystery she is
unable to recall.

As she daydreams into the darkness of the turbulent sea, Amerith is
startled and jumps from a pair of warm arms sliding around her form. Her
lips curl up into a smile as she turns her eyes towards Maccus. "Hello,
" she says in her soft, Celtic, accent. The large human nuzzles his
face into her neck gently which causes Ameriths wrinkled nose and a fit of
giggles to break the silence of the cold night. "Lets go to bed, baby."
Maccus says in a low whisper.

Writer: Zola

Date Tue Sep 4 06:08:14 2018

To All Bloodlust Darkonin Shadow Verminasia Thaxanos Ganth Immortals Fatale Kyri Shrek

Subject X Storm's End - Attack by Fire X

There was an ancient Raije philosopher (normally, a contradiction) whom
had famously published an entire book on the Art of Warfare. Some
Shokonoese man whose name escaped Zola at the moment. Normally, he credited
the majority of Raije's faithful with
barely enough brains to swing a sword,
but this man definitely knew of which he spoke. He could well have been a
prominent follower of Fatale in another lifetime.

Amongst his works, however, was a particularly compelling chapter: Attack by

The Deathscythe found it most favorable to read. He himself enjoyed the use
of such an attack, it was a signature of his, and would continue to be so.
But now, he had a potential means to make use of it to aid in the
besiegement of Storm Keep. The idea had been planted by the most unusual of
sources during his last visit to the Mystic Kingdom.

Normally the Deathscythe despised the fae, but thankfully pixies like
Aethelwine and Trixie were of a superior breed to the filthy faeries who
infested the Conclave and the like. And this one, thankful for the
blessings he had bestowed upon her, had rewarded him with some fireworks
she'd collected previously. So very much like a kender. But that in turn
had gotten him thinking, and brought him to Shokono for further research.
More specifically, to the small village out in the middle of nowhere called
Tokkaido, where they were manufactured.

Usually little more than harmless childrens toys, or else lower scale
entertainment, they had the potential (as All things did to a greater or
lesser degree) to be weaponized.

There were going to be fireworks alright. And the celebration would be when
Storm fell for the final time

Writer: Joat

Date Tue Sep 4 19:40:20 2018

To All Verminasia Imm Ashtiel Telthian Marcus Nathalos Rhoslyn Isadore

Subject The Return of Isadore Schwartz? & Joat Tenneal

Joat Tenneal lay resting on a stone slab in a small circular stone
chamber with a single torch illuminating the room. A darkened passageway
lead out of the room but he hadn't the energy anymore to go exploring.

Extending his cane, he repeatedly, and annoyingly, kept wrapping it
against the stone ceiling, much to the dismay of his apparent roommate.

A very audible sigh came from the mouth of Isadore Schwartz. "Ah dunnae
why yae keep 'nsistin' aen doin' thae.'

"I don't know why they can't hear us from up there. Does nobody hold
prayer at the Altar of Darkness anymore? Just open the damn lid of the
altar, and out we both walk as free men again. I've got swords to sell!",
Joat fired back.

Seated on his own curved stone bench across from Joat, Isadore merely
slumped forward, both of his hands covering his face, muttering.

"I told yae it dunnae work like tha'", he said frustratingly. "Sev'ral

Upset at this point by hours of bickering, Joat pushes himself up from
his resting position to sit and face Isadore, pointing his cane at him.
Isadore is quick to respond by loading up a fireball at the ready.

"You wouldn't dare.", Joat fired out. Isadore's fireball grew bigger,
causing Joat to lower his cane, and the fireball to disappear. "You
know what? You sure are ungrateful for me scouring All of Algoron to
find you and bring you back! All the way to the Abyss! I almost died!"

"Ah didnae ask yae ta come find mae! Ah never said ah wanted t' bae
found!", Isadore spoke with a tremendous thunder in his voice.

Joat grew more angry, a usual lack of understanding of everything. "So
we just sit here and wait for our turn to be called into the innards of
The Abyss to be tortured for All of eternity? What's wrong with you??"

Before Isadore could respond, a figure draped in All black, and
appearing to fade in and out of existance appeared in the doorway.

"High Priest Schwartz. Please come with me.", the ghostly figure uttered.

Struggling to stand to his feet using his cane, Joat exclaimed, "You're
not taking him anywhere!" The figure merely outstretched a hand with
little effort, sending Joat flying into the wall knocking him out.

Isadore rose to go with the man, stopping to look at Joat slumped on the
floor, before flashing his glittering toothy grin. "Been waiting fer
thae." The two left the chamber into the dark hallway into the unknown.

Writer: Rasavadi

Date Tue Sep 4 20:49:55 2018

Writer: Ceenuh
Date Wed Sep 5 12:34:46 2018

To All Verminasia Telthian Wyltte Imm Fatale

Subject The Mysterious Cane & Death to Fatale

He sat inside the Temple, contemplating, and praying to Lord Kwainin. He
was angry and furious with Fatale for taking nearly his entire family.
Various cruel means. It seemed as if he was being targeted for some reason,
though he could not recall having such a history with Fatale. Nevertheless,
Fatale would answer to him. He was not afraid. He assumed death will be
the result of this meeting. He already accepted and expected it.

With every death, his parents, his grandparents, his aunt, and now his
uncle. Countless pets and familiars. Someone had to answer for it. Fatale
would answer for it.

He would not answer to any messenger. He would stand before Fatale in a
battle to the death. He knew the God of Murder likely could not die from a
mere mortal, but he would stand on his own and make the challenge. Death,
would be a welcome end to his life. He would be reunited with his family
once more.

As he was busy contemplating his upcoming challenge with Fatale, a
shimmering noise came from the corner of the temple, distracting his fury.

He glanced over and saw a single gnarled up, driftwood cane, leaning against
the wall.

He stood, approached it, and tried to examine it. There were letters on it
that he had seen recently before in the past couple of days. He reached out
to touch the cane, but it crumbled into dust in his hands.

It didn't seem to be very important. He didn't understand it nor it's
significance. It was just gone now.

It lay in a pile of dust on the floor. The only letter still visible on it
was T. Perhaps part of Fatale. Or Justice.

Someone was going to pay and soon.

Writer: Ashtiel
Date Thu Sep 6 20:16:07 2018

Writer: Ayrora
Date Sat Sep 8 16:17:12 2018

To All Necrucifer Verminasia Immortal Storyline Religion Roleplay Drakkara

Subject Prayer and Faith

Ayrora had just returned to the city after some well needed quiet time in
Sacnoth. Her guards made sure to stay close to her, keeping an eye out for
trouble. All was quiet within the city, which was a bit of a relief for
her, as she walked towards the guillotine. To her surprise it was deserted.
She hopped up on the platform and sat down watching as the citizens ran
about their business.

As she sat there observing those that passed by, she realized they were
still grieving for the Dark Master. She was also grieving in her own way.
She had been betrayed by her own deity and, even worse, the excuses that
were spoken are not valid reasons in Ayrora's eyes. The mix of emotions she
felt still burns a fire in her soul. The only place she felt some peace was
in the Altar.

Rora got up and headed to the Altar. Upon entering she removed her hood and
lowered her head in respect to the Master. She walked up to the statue and
dropped to her knees to pray.

Dark Master, I truly believe that You are still here. You are the Master
of All and Algoron could never be the same without You. I pray for word of
your return for Your flock needs you.

After some meditation and some more prayer, She stands and looks up at the
statue and whispers. "I also need you." She pulls her hood over her head
and returns to the city.

Writer: Khisanth

Date Tue Sep 11 09:09:42 2018

To All (Immortal Kadiya RP) (Blake, Pythia, Tuefry, Myra if you guys are still around)

Subject Khsianth's Tale: The return of a monk.

The temple was empty, no longer did people seek it, in their eyes it was lost.
The cold, damp stone walls had stood for so long, and nothing moved inside it,
only the fog outside seemed to lay still over the floor.

Not a sound was heard, as suddenly a ripple in the fabric of existence caused
the physical world shattered as a form appeared out of the Ethereal.

She stood in the Temple, a yaeini with impeccable, snow-white fur and dressed
in a very simple snow-white robe of the finest silk. Her violet eyes absorbed
the surroundings as she felt herself become physical once more.

Khisanth chuckled silently to herself. This had been Blake's last lesson that
he had taught her. Her thoughts went to her brother, though a human, he was a
impressive person and so powerful. He was her mentor, her brother. Though she
considered him, her only real friend and she stretched out her mind to find a
way to locate him, but there was nothing. She focused her mind, searching out-
wards for any trace of something that would be a close connection to him: His
Oath-brother Tuefry, but no trace of him either, nor of Pythia of Shalonesti.
She continued to search for the others: Myra and Steel, Bystrick of the Gypsy
wagons. Even Dunia was gone - she had died and been called by Kadiya.

As she scanned further out, she could feel the far off presence of other with
gift of manatonics, and blocked herself from their minds. Cloaking her powers
from them was quite hard, but sometimes quite handy.

Then she heard a voice not far off 'Oh...It is only you..I never thought that
'I would be alive to meet anyone of you again'. And a soft chuckle as old and
quiet steps slowly approached her from the library of the temple.

Writer: Nimiane

Date Tue Sep 18 23:49:08 2018



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