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Writer: Meizhin
Date Thu Jan 2 12:15:58 2014
To All Justice Kuromaru (IMM Religion Claith Austinian)
Subject In prayer
Through the continued guidance from her mentor and those around her, she
felt that she had made the right choice. She sat in meditation praying to
the gods, letting her heart be known. Her mentor, Abbot Shiroken had been
there with her, every step. She felt blessed that so many were willing to
guide her and be there for her.
"I am ready to move forward and seek the light which has been shown to me.
Father of Creation, I will always respect and acknowledge, my heart pulls me
toward the light and to that I must go."
She prayed as she sat in The Chapel of Light, resting near the statue of
Austinian. She would be patient, she knew the gods heard her words. She
remained in the chapel for the remainder of the day.
Writer: Eirwen
Date Sat Jan 4 02:12:39 2014
Writer: Rhainne
Date Sat Jan 4 11:58:34 2014
Writer: Rhainne
Date Sat Jan 4 12:20:26 2014
Writer: Rhainne
Date Sat Jan 4 12:40:22 2014
Writer: Rhainne
Date Sun Jan 5 12:31:56 2014
Writer: Rikam
Date Mon Jan 6 10:22:15 2014
To Verminasia All rp
Subject Focus
"Jab! Jab! Thrust! Kick! Come on, boy!"
Rikam flitted about the deck of the Requiem, the heavy, solemn voice
echoing in his head. Each thrust, each swing of his sword chipped at the
main mast. Each swung elbow, each kick, cracked against the hardened
wood. He was beginning to make quite a mess.
"Jab! Swing! Thrust! Kick! Elbow, elbow, elbow! Knee!"
A ship's mast really wasn't suitable for this sort of thing. Too rough. Too
heavy. Rikam snarled through gritted teeth, his hair, his clothes, soaked
through with sweat as he laid in to his former ship. He wasn't done yet.
He could still stand.
"Focus, boy!"
Rikam lunged, his feet light on the deck. He was never particularly
strong, and not even as quick as some. He could hold his own in a fight,
sure, but it was so rare he ever even needed to. It wasn't strength or
speed, or even cunning, really, that sustained him. It was a sense of
constant ease. It was damn easy, being Rikam Oneiroi. The world did all
the work, it happened as it liked, and Rikam knew how to just step
through it without a care.
Why wasn't it feeling easy? What was his mind grinding on?
"Let it go, boy."
The rapier clamored onto the deck. His footing was sure. His punches
were quick. His every movement, a practiced reflex without need for
thought behind any of it. His knuckles, shins, elbows and knees All bled,
but he could feel that later. Rikam Oneiroi was gone, for now. His body,
like sails full of wind, would be a thing subject to the elements for a while
yet. His mind was free.
It was a much needed rest.
"Jab, punch, kick, punch, elbow, elbow, knee, knee, knee..."
Writer: Ashbie
Date Mon Jan 6 11:10:59 2014
To Mencius Dahakon Rikam Verminasia All Roleplay Religion Immortal
Subject The Mark (iii)
You embarrassed more than just yourself.
The wound on Ashbie's forehead seemed to throb, even though it had been
over a week since Dahakon had carved the image into her flesh. She reached
up and traced the rigid, bumpy contours with her slender fingers. Ashbie's
eyes closed, in her mind she pictured the horrific, broken pawn as though
she were looking in her mirror again. She'd avoided looking in her mirror
lately, even to brush her hair.
The first few times it had brought tears. Now there was anger.
She was angry at herself for causing disappointment. She was angry at
Mencius for his displeasure. She was angry at Dahakon for his cruelty. She
wanted to yell out, to hit things, to go into a wild fury--but she did none
of that. Above All else, she had been learning to control her rage. That
didn't always go as planned, but, for the most part, she'd not exploded as
the inferno built within her.
Still, she needed a release.
Tied to a post was a stray dog. The mutt sat there, cowering in fear as
it looked up at her pitifully. It had already peed on her. Twice. In spite
of that fact, or, because of it, the dog was now securely fastened to a
wooden pole. She was outside the city, in the middle of nowhere, really. A
spot she'd chosen for its remoteness as well as its beauty.
Ashbie took a moment to survey her surroundings. Down below, the Mencius
river flowed through the city of Verminasia, which was but a small, albeit
wide, collection of buildings in the distance. She could make out the
castle and even the guillotine and southern square.
The hill she stood on sloped down as it raced for the river bank. Behind
her it sloped away, down into a forest that was so small it had no name.
Then, off to the north and east, there were only low-lying plains as far as
the eye could see. A few tiny villages dotted the landscape, and the
winding king's road cut a clear path. But here, here on this hill, Ashbie
stood alone.
She whipped the first pistol out with a speed and showmanship that only
a practiced handler could master. Pre-loaded, she fired her shot. The round
whizzed by the mutt, who responded with a startled jump that would have
been amusing in any other situation. Ashbie cursed and pulled out her
second pistol, also pre-loaded, and fired. This one missed too, flaring
past off and to the right. The dog trembled and began to pee again.
Ashbie tossed one pistol up into the air, reaching quickly for the powder
stored at her side. Dust loaded, she picked a pistol ball and tossed it in
after. Her airborne pistol fell back to her hand just as she fired off her
third shot. This one struck the dog in the rear, causing a long, pained
howl to be let loose across the hillside as the dog skipped back.
That pistol went up in the air.
She was loading the other pistol now. Quick. Practiced. Sure. Her fourth
shot fired, landing in the dog's gut now. The pain must have been immense,
Ashbie could feel it in her own gut. She almost stopped. No, she had to
keep going. She could not be weak. The dog was suffering, she would put it
out of its misery. The airborne pistol was in her hand again, she sent the
other into the air this time.
Load. Fire. Hit.
This shot was true: back of the neck, the mutt seized up, then slumped to
the ground in a pitiful expression of death. She dropped her pistols to
the ground, tears streaming from her eyes and down her cheeks. A gust of
wind picked up some of her hair and sent it across her vision, strands
stuck to her wettened cheeks.
Embarrassment
The distinct ring of sword and dagger as they escaped their sheath filled
the empty air. Her rage was not sated, not yet. She spun around the wooden
column, blades striking true with sure, precise strikes. Again and again.
The sun set and still she was there: a whirling dervish of fury and rage.
Writer: Vylanthria
Date Mon Jan 6 15:06:04 2014
Writer: Crystallis
Date Mon Jan 6 15:17:25 2014
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Mon Jan 6 16:38:49 2014
To All Althainia Knighthood Justice Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Scorn imm rp Nazca Austinian Zandreya
Subject Before the State of the Mart Address (2014)
The members of the Executive Board of Ixi-Mart chatted amongst themselves
casually in the minutes leading up to the Chairman's annual issuance of the
State of the Mart Address. However, there were two glaring exceptions. The
absence of Thimtax, Vice-President of Manufacturing, who was excused from
the event to work on the tower, and the Chairman, who was in the room with
everyone else.
But the expression on the Chairman's face was far from casual, as he
painstakingly poured over his speech time and time again. Ixi'kweez had
already memorized the speech word for word, as he always did before its
delivery to the public. That was not the issue. Ixi'kweez's issue, was
with a particular piece of the sales data within the speech. Ixi-Mart had
missed its sales forecast, and the Chairman was upset.
In fact, the Chairman was so distracted, that he did not even notice that
the Board had stood up from the table, gathering their papers and preparing
to head out to the presentation hall. Not until Ooof hollered over to him.
"C'mun Ixi, what yer problem?" . The ogre in the grey pinstriped suit
waved his huge arm in the Chairman's face. "You give Murt speech today.
Its gud day. Banquet after. Ooof dine on lobster. Get drunk. Why yuz
look sad?"
"I know exactly what his problem is." Illiquin chimed in, climbing back
into his seat and plopping his papers on the boardroom table. "He's hung up
on not hitting 250, 000 by New Year's like he wanted. So, I'm going to nip
this in the bud right now, because we've got someplace to be, and we can't
have him moping around in there in front of our shareholders."
The elderly gnome shimmied his way on to the boardroom table and slowly rose
to his feet, turning to face the Chairman. "Ixi. We had a record-breaking
year. We blew last year's sales numbers out of the water. And -that- year
was a record-breaking year. We're back up to three stores, and we're
building a new headquarters that is nothing short of an architectural
marvel. Sure. Hitting 250, 000 would've been nice. But let's be honest,
that was a rather quixotic goal to shoot for. I don't think any of us
really expected to reach it. But, we got pretty damn close."
The Chairman knew deep down that Illiquin was right. But, that provided
small comfort to one who set such lofty goals. Ixi had a new found respect
for Thimtax, who also would not accept anything less than the fulfillment of
all of his goals. But where Thimtax had always found a means to bring his
goals to fruition, exactly as he had planned them, Ixi'kweez, this
occassion, had not.
"So you're going to get your skinny arse up out of that chair, and adjust
your tuxedo." Illiquin interrupted the Chairman's musings impatiently.
"And we're All going to go out there with big smiles on, and your going to
give your address, and they'll like it, and everything will be juuuuuust
fiiiiiiiine. Now, come on, let's go. I'm hungry."
Writer: Aelysse
Date Mon Jan 6 16:39:10 2014
Writer: Jerann
Date Tue Jan 7 12:55:56 2014
To All Kahlyn Imm RP Devion Nadrik
Subject Entering Independence - A Gnomian Deception
The Gnome would find himself incapable of rest, he would not be able to
nourish himself by the will of his Lord. Not to mention, All his friends
had deserted him. What kind of Priest, could work for his Lord, under only
his own Guidance.
The first place the gnome turned was the Light, which was acknowledge by the
darkness almost immediately 'Traitor", the would call him. He would wear
his hood in shame, and walk away, until he was found to be an enemy. Though
the light welcomed Jerann, especially Emperor Kahlyn.
When Jerann first approached the Emperor he was a frail gnome, he has been
without his Lord for over a few months already, and been fasting. He looked
to Kahlyn walking the streets as a beggar. This was when Kahlyn greeted the
gnome, Jerann spoke to Kahlyn briefly, informing the Emperor there was a
great power hidden from the World. Jerann also stated to the Emperor he
knew the whereabouts.
This Stirred questions from the Emperor, he had begun to inquire as to why
Jerann had been shunned by his Lord. "What Lord would Keep someone who
seeks to defy him?" Jerann would end his question with a loud cough, and
double over continuously coughing, sounding as if he were having trouble
breathing.
The Emperor took action in a quick manner, placing his hands over the Gnome
and uttering a type of incantation that would bring the gnome's disease and
ailments to a close. The gnome would look up to the Emperor in thanks, with
a newfound respect for someone who he would have intended to kill otherwise.
With only the thought 'I wonder if he knows there was no illness', the Gnome
thanks Kahlyn and bids him another day, where he would assist the Light
against Devion to save Nadrik.
Writer: Jerann
Date Tue Jan 7 13:21:08 2014
To All Kahlyn Devion Nadrik Imm RP
Subject Hidden Meetings in the Open - A Gnomian Deception
Jerann would meet the Emperor on a few occassions, discussing with him a
fabled box containing a secret to saving Nadrik. At great length the gnome
would discuss certain details.
The Emperor would meet Jerann usually within the confines of Althainia, and
always unescorted. Jerann was no threat to him, a gnome without ability to
cast, a Priest no worst. Jerann would carry a few wands, scrolls, and
staves, no matter.
"I have found it will be hidden on icewall below the ice. Below the ice
will the shifting of water be present, What's held here will make you a
hero," Jerann would reassure the Emperor, who seemed at first a bit
skeptical;" Would you save Nadrik, if you had only Even a slightest chance?
" The Emperor would then nod, in agreement.
Jerann knew at this point, it would be possible, the Gnome had instilled the
confidence he needed in the Emperor to gain what he looked for, or, was it
what he would give to the Emperor.
Writer: Liviya
Date Wed Jan 8 14:05:22 2014
To Verdot Verminasia Necrucifer All ( imm Religion )
Subject Blessed
Liviya didn't bother washing the blood from her face before she slept.
Its presence there was a comfort, a tangible memory of something she
had ached for in her mind and her bones and her soul itself.
The Master had been there. The tears that had come to her eyes were
not from the exquisite pain of the migraine, but instead tears of joy
and relief. The Avatar was a pale substitute for the presence of the
Master Himself, and to have been under the eyes of God, even for a
moment, was something even her famed eloquence could not capture.
Her only regret was that it had taken her too long to get the message.
It was a lesson, she supposed, that even the awe of the presence of
God should not overwhelm her emotions in such a way that she failed
to understand what was being said in the wordless pouring of blood
from her nose.
She had called it at the time a blessing, and in her mind, it still
was. His displeasure had not been with her, but with a Novitiate within
the kingdom, one who had lain so silent that she did not know he served
the Master as she did. The ire of Necrucifer tended to come with bodies
slammed into walls and hearts stopping within the chest, and thus this
seemed more like a gentle warning that He was not to be ignored and
her duty to teach included seeking out the unteachable.
What was broken, she was called to fix. Perhaps it was a test for her
as well, or perhaps it was a mere reminder that every sheep in the
flock was her responsibility. The ways of the Master were cryptic.
Regardless, she would not disappoint Him.
With peace in her heart and an inferno in her eyes, she sharpened
a quill. There was work to be done.
Writer: Vys
Date Thu Jan 9 17:08:15 2014
Writer: Vys
Date Thu Jan 9 17:10:43 2014
Writer: Ashbie
Date Thu Jan 9 22:53:26 2014
To All verminasia immortal roleplay
Subject Yar! A Pirates Life For Me! (i)
"You bloody done yet? " Ashbie peered impatiently over the counter. The
sharp odor of melted metal was strong in the small shop. Her eyes were
slightly watery, she rubbed at them, but, there weren't any tears at the
moment. Between goldsmiths and blacksmiths, she'd lost any taste for
metallurgy beyond mining the ore.
Ashbie had no problem getting her hands dirty, but the oppressive heat,
airborne irritants, and smell were enough to drive a girl away. However,
today, she had a special reason to be here--something she couldn't entrust
to just any servant. There was Chiyeko of course, she was an exception, but
Ashbie had given her a bit of a vacation.
Besides, she wanted to be here for this.
"Just pouring into the moulds now, Lady Herald. " The man behind the
counter said, his back turned to her.
The man, who she knew as Gerard, couldn't see her grin, buut she flashed it
anyways. As a lady of the court and an important member of Verminasian
society, she had to practice the whole pleasant "look" until it was
second-nature to her.
"You've been an admirable help, Gerard. I'll be sure to recommend you to my
friends. " She tried affecting a more noble, regal air, adding a tinge of
haughty affluence to her voice.
Gerard looked over his shoulder and paused a moment in his word. He had
warm brown eyes, a bushy black mustache and a short black beard. He was
bald past his ears, however. "Pardon me, milady, but I don't see you as the
sort to gossip with 'friends'. " His tone was amicable, but the comment was
undeniably clear: she didn't have friends.
While it wasn't a wholly true assertion, it was close enough to sting. The
smile faded from her features as she stared at Gerard. The man seemed to
realize the misstep and immediately fumbled through an apology. Ashbie
waved her hand dismissively, "It's nothing. I'm going for a walk, I hope
the coins are done when I return. "
"They- they will be, Lady Herald. " The man said with a more reserved, less
jovial tone.
She stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the oppressive heat and
odor of the shop behind her. Though Verminasia was by no means a sleepy
city, the street was dead at this hour. Exactly as she'd wanted it to be.
She wasn't operating entirely on the right side of the law at the moment,
and with her position and standing, it was important that she kept as few
details traceable back to her as possible.
Writer: Vylanthria
Date Fri Jan 10 12:22:18 2014
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Fri Jan 10 20:06:14 2014
Writer: Rhainne
Date Fri Jan 10 20:22:42 2014
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Fri Jan 10 20:37:04 2014
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Fri Jan 10 20:40:29 2014
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Fri Jan 10 21:07:39 2014
Writer: Cassian
Date Fri Jan 10 21:35:01 2014
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Fri Jan 10 22:56:34 2014
Writer: Kaelowyth
Date Fri Jan 10 22:58:34 2014
Writer: Valanthiriel
Date Sat Jan 11 10:59:14 2014
Writer: Valanthiriel
Date Sat Jan 11 11:10:10 2014
Writer: Dahakon
Date Sun Jan 12 17:07:08 2014
Writer: Ranan
Date Mon Jan 13 23:30:33 2014
Writer: Amyth'lynn
Date Tue Jan 14 19:38:49 2014
Writer: Telthian
Date Tue Jan 14 23:58:01 2014
To All Verminasia ( imm rp Necrucifer )
Subject Civil Unrest - I
It had been some months since he had returned to Pharthati. The manor
was well tended in the priests absence, the servants had seen to that.
Pushing past the heavy wooden doors to the study, it was clear the room had
been undisturbed in his absence. Each step stirred up motes of thick dust
as he paced to the center of the room, to the very spot where he stood last.
His temple throbbed once, as if to remind him of the source of his
migraines.
* * * * *
A vision of what was to come had played out before him hours before he left.
The characters wrought of fire and ash writhed and danced with a life of
their own on the floor of his study. With them came the Black Winds once
again. A soft and gentle breeze at first, but it carried the sickly sweet
smell of death and the chill of the abyss itself. The wind rose suddenly,
whipping through the room and crashing over Telthian's body like a tidal
wave. Unable to move, unable to so much as close his eyes, he could do
nothing but watch.
* * * * *
He paused, regarding the dried blood and ash smeared across the floor for a
moment before moving to his desk. He wrote hastily, pressing his signet
ring firmly into the wax seal of each letter.
There wasnt much time left to right the ship.
Writer: Ilimilipili
Date Wed Jan 15 00:37:43 2014
Writer: Ilimilipili
Date Wed Jan 15 00:48:36 2014
Writer: Ilimilipili
Date Wed Jan 15 05:53:16 2014
Writer: Vethra
Date Wed Jan 15 13:06:40 2014
Writer: Ashbie
Date Wed Jan 15 16:25:32 2014
To All verminasia bloodlust Rikam Claudette Dahakon Marcaus immortal
Subject Conflict
Conflict.
Everything in Ashbie's life seemed to swirl around that violent, chaotic
word. Like waves breaking on the cliffs of northern Arkane, or the Mencius
river as it raged down the countryside. It was as if it were some
inescapable fact of who she was--something she had no control over. A part
of her wanted to tilt her head back and scream, but she remained silent.
Ashbie hated not having control, or, rather, hated it if she didn't trust
the one in control. The problem with her life was that it felt like no one
was in control. The Deceiver was laughing for sure, enjoying the merry mess
she'd made of things. Her Maman and Papa weren't laughing though. Devout
as they were, they didn't see as much of the laughter in the chaos as her
"uncle", Glennwyn. Ashbie didn't see it either.
That was why she'd left Devion in the first place, wasnt it?
She'd failed in Mencius' flock too. The scar on her forehead wasn't enough.
It seemed to embarass her Papa more than anyone, and horrified others more
than it horrified her. True, she prided herself on her good looks, but she
still managed to pull it off even with the scar. It didn't really bother
her. But Dahakon was another story.
The man was an enigma wrapped in an enigma. He had rage building in him
that burned hotter than hers, yet he was unfailingly polite, scathing when
he needed to be--the calm at the center of an invisible storm.
Ashbie was just a flame.
She burned brightly with an intense heat that burned not only those near
her--but also herself. Rage was All she had. She'd never been particularly
clever. Sure, she wasn't stupid and she might have the occasional insight.
She was intuitive when it came to battle. But witty retorts, tricks, jokes,
the things of Devion, of her parents, those always seemed just beyond her
grasp.
Even if she wasn't stupid, the one sure way to make her feel stupid was to
stick her with a bunch of Devionites. Ilimilipili had played her. Played
her like a fiddle that was easy to the touch. At the end of it all, the
only one truly looking foolish was Ashbie. It was Ilimilipili who'd caused
all the trouble, slandered her until she couldn't take it any more.
Claiming that Ashbie had run away from the Armada had been the final straw.
It was a childish move, but Ili could claim that she was a Devionite and
only meant a joke by it. It was clever, a clear way to keep Ashbie down, to
ensure no one respected her, and how could Ashbie retaliate?
Only by being more clever.
Instead, Ashbie had retaliated the one way she knew how: challenging
Ilimilipili to combat. But that had only disappointed everyone: Her Papa,
Dahakon, the King. She'd looked like a childish fool to the kingdom, and no
one saw the mischief that Ilimilipili had made.
Ashbie kicked at an errant stone in the woods, sending it flying into a tree
where it ricocheted into the darkness. Now she was in the Dungeon, the
Horde. Bloodlust. It was a "suggestion" of the King, which only meant it
was an unofficial order. For All the trouble she'd caused, Ashbie was
ultimately obedient to those she respected, and it wasn't difficult for him
to command her respect.
Now she had so many choices to make: Did she continue to follow Mencius as
she'd vowed? Or should she return to Devion like her Papa wanted, tail
between her legs, back to being a second-class follower who only pretended
to laugh at jokes she didn't understand.
What would she do in the Dungeon? The place was filled with fighters with reputations longer than their names. She was just some upstart from Verminasia.
She was a lawless pirate who was a troublemaker even among troublemakers: already she'd been yelled at for taking out the ship without permission.
She was a bloody pirate, what did they expect?
Conflict.
Her entire life was conflict now.
Writer: Jonathen
Date Fri Jan 17 02:19:39 2014
Writer: Vespera
Date Fri Jan 17 05:43:15 2014
To All verminasia
Subject A Ride to Weisshaupt
The road to Weisshaupt was thin and threatened to be overtaken at times
with vegetation, but the gelding seemed little distracted by it. For
Vespera Kesepton, her afternoon rides were the one pleasure that she
indulged in. She felt no guilt over the enjoyment she found in these quiet
times, but told herself that it was important to keep up her skill on a
mount should the need ever call her to ride.
Today, the woman felt awkward. She was out of form at riding side saddle,
having shunned the practice disobediently many years ago. Vested in the
costly attire she had arrived in Verminasia wearing, she felt an extra layer
of rigidity. There was nothing out of place, for she had made certain it
was so. Her skirts were long enough to cover All but the tips of her toes,
her jacket was perfectly fitted to her form. Even her hair was bound
perfectly in place, and held tidily beneath a lady's riding hat, from behind
which trailed long and entirely pointless ribbons of lace.
She did not feel like herself.
And yet, she wanted to make the right impression.
When Lord Illithi had mentioned that she should take a ride to Weisshaupt to
acquaint herself with its citizens, she was overwhelmed with the reality of
her future. Up until that very instant, it had seemed more like a dream to
her. Or perhaps a cruel joke. He was more than she might have ever
expected in a match, and that such an arrangement had been his own idea...
It was nearly beyond her comprehension. For whatever his reasons, a sense
of duty had found her in the task.
She pushed All thoughts of him from her head. She did this often, not
allowing herself the idle fascination. Her thoughts turned instead to
Weisshaupt, and learning the lay of the land. She decided that she would
deviate from the straight course, and take in the countryside. There was
often more to be found outside of the most obvious path.
And so with a nudging of the reins, the gelding turned off its course,
heading along the edge of a fallow field that led to a small timber. A
flock of blackbirds stirred as she entered the wooded area, lying about
before resettling on the gray branches All around her. She paused to watch
them, a light smile finding her lips. She enjoyed simple things, such as
the fluttering dance of the birds. This little spot of countryside was much
more lovely than the lands immediately surrounding the main road. The thin
tree branches of the timber criss-crossed overhead, casting lacelike shadows
down upon the ground. She held a hand out to watch the shadows drift across
it, just as he heard a snap behind her.
Overhead, the backbirds began their dance.
Behind her, she heard words. 'Stand and deliver!'
Writer: Vespera
Date Fri Jan 17 07:38:12 2014
To All verminasia
Subject A Ride to Weisshaupt - II
'Stand and Deliver! '
Three words that might have inspired a lone traveler to fear. But it was
not fear that Vespera Kesepton felt in the moment. It was anger. Searing,
white-hot anger. How dare these men even exist in this place?
The woman reined the gelding sharply, looking over her shoulder toward the
source of the voice. There were two men upon horseback, both masked, one of
a tall but average build and one short and rather portly. They had a dirty
look to them, clothes edged in dry mud and dirt worked well into their skin.
The tall one spoke up, his mouth twisted into a sneer. 'Woman! Deliver to
me this moment, and make no noise, for if you do I and my friend will dirty
that fine dress with your blood. '
'You mean to rob me? ' she returned, the disbelief obvious in her voice.
'And on the Count's land? I pray you are jesting, sir. '
A third man emerged from behind a line of trees, riding upon a roan
stallion. This man, unmasked, was less dirty than the other two. He had a
common but powerful look about him, the sort of look that would inspire
others to follow. Vespera had seen it before.
'I assure you we do not jest, my priggish girl, ' the new man spoke, 'But
mean to divest you of your coin and any jewels that you are wearing.
Deliver them, or we will have your life. Deliver them, and you may return
to your wealth and comfort, and All of the riches of your Household. ' With
that, he pointed his sword in her direction, a threat.
The woman's eyes darted about the three figures, looking from one to the
next through her thick spectacles. Two she had felt more confident about,
but three was getting twice dangerous. Still, she had no intention of
playing the meek noblewoman and granting them her coin. Bundled up beneath
her skirts and affixed to the saddle, there was the blade that she had
hidden there. She drew it quickly, and whipped the reigns, sending the
obedient gelding into a gallop. As she neared the first two mounted
figures, she lept from the saddle, her blade flying.
With a slice and a spin, then a second slice, Vespera had cleaved into the
back hocks of both horses. Startled from the motion and from pain, the poor
beasts lunged forward, only to stumble and trip, upsetting their riders.
The tall man was crushed beneath his heavy mount, while the portly fell and
hit the ground, rolling about like a child's ball.
It must have been surprising to see the well-dressed woman wielding a
bloodied sword in her velvets and her ridiculous hat, but in the fat man's
eyes All that Vespera could see was panic. Quickly she advanced, and before
he could draw his blade her own had found its mark, sinking deeply into his
heart.
One. Two. The sound of advancing hoofbeats. And there was the third. The
woman spun about to face the roan rider as he advanced upon her, swinging
his sword. As she had been taught, she raised her own to block the attack,
the jolt of it felt hard even through her leather riding gloves. His power
was greater than her own, and the woman could not deflect the blow entirely,
shunting it instead to her left shoulder, where it cut into her skin. She
repositioned herself, preparing for the man to turn about and face her, but
he didn't. He kept on riding.
'Coward! ' the woman shouted as she watched the figure disappearing in the
distance. She brought a hand to the slice in her dress, examining the
wound, and her fingers drew back covered in blood.
Before she had time to think of what to do next, Vespera heard a groan from
the tall man who was still alive beneath his frothing panicked mount. She
slit the throat of first one horse, then the other, ending their misery
before she returned to the man.
'I'll give you gold... ' he whimpered. She pressed her blade into his
mouth and then bore her weight down. The gurgle of his death was pleasing
to the woman.
Writer: Vespera
Date Fri Jan 17 07:42:29 2014
To All verminasia
Subject A Ride to Weisshaupt - III
The timber was a flurry of noise, even with the voices that had been
silenced. The blackbirds tittered and called out overhead, stirred into a
dizzying frenzy. As Vespera clutched at her wounded shoulder, she cursed
herself for encouraging her gelding to run off.
With this messy interlude finished, she set off walking. She had to catch
up to her horse, and finish her ride to the manor.
She did not imagine that Salainn would be pleased when he learned of this.
Writer: Ilimilipili
Date Sat Jan 18 00:20:00 2014
Writer: Kyan
Date Sat Jan 18 16:17:04 2014
Writer: Jonathen
Date Sun Jan 19 21:01:56 2014
Writer: Sindraste
Date Sun Jan 19 21:12:45 2014
Writer: Sindraste
Date Sun Jan 19 21:26:12 2014
Writer: Sindraste
Date Sun Jan 19 21:37:58 2014
Writer: Sindraste
Date Sun Jan 19 21:52:14 2014
Writer: Sindraste
Date Sun Jan 19 22:01:15 2014
Writer: Sindraste
Date Sun Jan 19 22:11:51 2014
Writer: Oyara
Date Mon Jan 20 15:47:18 2014
To All Imm (Zandreya)
Subject Lost
Oyara returned to the hall of Justice under the cover of night. Her
arrival was met with no fanfare or ceremony, and her mind was filled with
troubled thoughts as she made her way through the ancient fortress.
She had ventured to the Great Forest on behalf of the Council of Light,
searching for signs of Seanan's shards. That her mission had met with no
success was of little concern to the priestess. She had known beforehand that
the shards would not be so easily found. What troubled her was the
visitation Justice had received days earlier.
Austinian's voice had spoken to Justice two days prior, summoned in part by
her own desire to see the next shard reclaimed. But Oyara did not serve
Austinian, and his constant presence around her served only to accentuate
the absence of her own goddess. Absently, she touched the badge newly
pinned to the front of her robes. The Captain's insignia was heavy with the
weight of the metal it had been forged from. It was heavier still with the
responsibilities that came with it. Even her recent promotion did little to
ease her thoughts.
"Zandreya, " she murmured as she shook off her cloak and made her way to the
chapel.
She knelt to pray to her goddess, but the words seemed to go nowhere.
This was after all, Austinian's house.
Was her own goddess displeased with her? Oyara did not believe it.
Zandreya still granted her the power to heal, the power to protect, and the
power to avenge. But Zandreya had not made her presence known to her in
some time. Oyara felt lost, directionless.
She looked up, feeling the eyes of the statue of Austinian upon her. A
sudden modesty came upon her, and Oyara slowly turned her back to the statue
as she disrobed. When she was done she reached hesitantly for the basin of
water she had brought with her, murmuring words of prayer as she cleansed
both her body and spirit.
"Mother make me anew, " she prayed, "an empty vessel to be filled with your
holy purpose. "
As she prayed, she slowly undid the braids that confined her hair, running
slim fingers through the tight curls as she released them. As she finished,
Oyara retrieved a small pouch from her discarded robes. This had been a
gift from the Sylvan high priestess during her visit to the Great Forest.
"This is the sacred earth, " she had said, "where new things grow, and old
things die to be born again. "
Emptying the contents of the pouch into her hands, Oyara smeared the soil
onto her damp body. Soon, she was covered in a layer of mud. Satisfied
with her work, Oyara stooped to retrieve one last thing from her robes on
the ground. She rose with a handful of glittering stones, their magic
warming her hand.
Raising one above her head, Oyara spoke the words of a spell and space
twisted before her in response. A door appeared leading to another place
and Oyara entered it without fear.
Writer: Oyara
Date Mon Jan 20 16:11:21 2014
To All Imm (Zandreya)
Subject Found
Oyara had come to the hedge maze, and had been wandering its twists and
turns for days now. She had brought none of her belongings, not even her
clothes, and she had cut herself off from All but the most rudimentary
contact from her clan. Her exile was self-imposed, for she had come her
seeking her goddess, and this was the place where the first of Zandreya's
messengers had come to her from.
The maze itself was another's great work to honor the goddess. Some say
Zandreya had recognized its creator and taken him to be with her. If this
was true, perhaps some path to Zandreya's domain still lingered here. Oyara
could not be sure as she passed others who had become lost in the maze. No
one barred her passage as she searched, for the inhabitants of this place
were just as lost as she.
Coming to another dead end, Oyara slumped to the ground. She could ignore
her exhaustion no more. As she stopped to rest she felt magic around her,
familiar magic that carried the scent of metal and sunlight. She gazed
up to find Hazaeron before her, the minotaur priest garbed for battle.
"What brings you here friend, " she asked, startled by his sudden
appearance.
"I was concerned for you, " he offered as he examined her critically.
Hazaeron served Austinian, a bitter reminder of why she had left the hall on
this journey. He was everywhere.
"I am fine, " she said simply, covering her face with her hands.
Hazaeron said nothing and the silence between them seemed a tangible thing.
"I will take my leave then, " he said, reluctantly, but not before a
whispered prayer to Austinian cloaked her within His holy presence.
Oyara did not move for some time after Hazaeron left, and only the arrival
of a songbird broke the silence.
She has forsaken me, Oyara thought.
Meanwhile, the bird began to sing, filling the air with the song of life.
I am a Captain of the Wrath, but I am beneath her notice.
The wind soon took up the song, rustling the hedges in time with the tune as
it moved between them.
I will never feel her presence again.
Now the rain joined in, lazy droplets hitting the ground in counterpoint to
the melody.
She is here!
The realization hit Oyara suddenly, bringing her to her feet. Why had she
come searching for something that had been hers All along. Tears filled her
eyes as she felt her shame.
The songbird eyed her quizzically as she wept, and Oyara mouthed a silent
thank you as she clasped another of the glittering stones she carried. She
spoke the same spell that had brought her here and found herself once more
within the chapel of Justice.
She slowly retrieved her clothing from the chapel's floor and began to
dress herself. She spared Austinian's statue one last glance before she
left to rejoin her comrades, a prayer on her lips as she left.
Forgive me Mother for doubting you, for you have been with me always. I
feel your presence in the rising sun and the falling rain. I thought I had
lost you, but I was the one who was lost. This is Austinian's house, but it
is also yours, for I carry you with me wherever I go. I have found you, and
I shall never lose you again!
Writer: Rikam
Date Wed Jan 22 11:10:46 2014
Writer: Rikkah
Date Wed Jan 22 12:21:21 2014
To All Arkane Kender Kwainin RP
Subject Son of a Biscuit Eater!! Everything's so complicated!
Rikkah Joeni Burrbramble stepped off the gang plank onto the docks of the
Althainian port, her feet once again on a surface that didn't sway with the
waves. She took a moment to regain her equilibrium before setting off
towards her destination, the quiet dim caverns of Treasure's End. She felt
a distinct compulsion to exit the city, seek out her own counsel. There was
so much that had gone on since she had become a citizen of Arkane. Her life
was a whirlwind, which she had enjoyed for the most part, being caught up in
winds of revelry. Now suddenly All of that was altering and Rikkah was
-not- pleased. She slunk to the lower caverns, ducking past the woman who
always seemed to be counting the treasure, admiring the lovely black silk
cloth that bound back her auburn hair. The guildmaster, what's her name,
didn't seem to even notice Rikkah, which caused the kender to curl her lips
in satisfaction. At least, she still retained stealth. She slumped down,
leaning back against the damp cavern wall and giving a big sigh that spoke
volumes of the frustration she couldn't seem to loose. She was particularly
perturbed by the encroaching world, damn thing. Everything had been going
smoothly, amiably, congenially. She'd been finding easy work, good company,
plenty of drinks and then this - this notion of good and evil, right and
wrong had been thrust on her. Bugger the world! It didn't treat her family
very well, so why should she worry whether the world was inclined to evil or
not. Her parents well, mostly her mother, taught her that there really
isn't anything that can be done. World factions had aligned as they would
and now it was for the Gods to settle. Mere mortal influence would be like
a raindrop in a quick current. Perhaps making a ripple but not changing the
course of the stream, not even influencing the level of water. So much
changed for kender since Balifore was destroyed, communities lost, families
scattered and personalities altered and yet throughout the change, the
indomitable spirit and tenacious fortitude of joy breached the worst
consequences the tragedy held. The fearless nature refused to prostrate
itself before a darkened world. Indeed now seemed to dare those who
challenged its survival, laughing despite slander and verbal abuse. The
kender community was smaller, but this appeared to make it All the more
intimate, close knit and sturdy. Rikkah considered the conversations of the
last few days. She wasn't stupid, maybe a little lazy, yet it didn't
prevent her epiphany coming full course. Like so many puzzling pieces
falling into place, suddenly she began to wonder if her parents hadn't put
her at a disadvantage by keeping her out of society, that maybe she was too
selfish for her own good, that maybe survival meant more than just
surviving. Rikkah withdrew a golden coin, turned it over looking at it
introspectively, remembering the day it was given to her. She flipped it
once, caught it and jammed it back into the pouch it came from. There was
only one thing she could think of to settle her mind now, something she had
not considered for several years. She folded her hands, bowed her head and
began to pray.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Wed Jan 22 12:33:23 2014
To All Arkane Kender Kwainin RP
Subject Simple Prayer
Dear Kwainin sir, my prayers have been few and far between over the
years, but I guess you never really talked to me, so I wasn't ever prompted
to talk to ya much. Sorry! Anyhow, I've come to a perplexing juncture and
I need some help. So the world is pretty dark now and I guess some people
are concerned about it. I wasn't but, mebbe I should be. Can ya give me a
little direction if theres something I should be doin'? I'm feelin' that
all I've been doin' isn't enough. Can ya give me some reassurance or
something? Thanks! Oh, this is Rikkah by the way, but bein' a god I
suppose ya know that! Laters! Eh, amen!
Writer: Rikam
Date Wed Jan 22 22:54:02 2014
Writer: Tahereh
Date Thu Jan 23 00:55:39 2014
Writer: Rikam
Date Thu Jan 23 18:24:20 2014
Writer: Thaydius
Date Thu Jan 23 23:15:47 2014
To All ( Religion Siccara Imm )
Subject Twenty
After eight years of ascension, the number of things that became mere
concepts had outnumbered true familiarity in the gap between Thaydius and
mortals. First it was simple things like hunger and thirst which sat like
memories in the back of his mind. Their distance was not unlike a dream
that one remembered years later. Some time later, while meditating upon the
peaks of the mountains of Icewall, he realized that he had forgotten how the
warmth of the sun felt upon skin. Fatigue and pain were unique because he
was capable of having damage upon his mortal body but it was whisked out of
him by a force far beyond his own control. Even the plurality of people and
the size of Algoron shrank from miraculous to mechanical. Algoron was but a
tiny dot upon which he could gaze out at the cosmos.
His mother was out there, somewhere...
Even among the short-lived mortals his mere twenty years wouldn't account
for much wisdom. For better or worse, the life of the gifted was one of
quick adaptation. The three ancients still had and would likely always have
far greater control of their powers but in such short time his mind had
expanded to uncover mysteries and adapt perspectives he had previously
thought impossible. For a brief moment, in observing those short years, it
became apparent how many mortals he had either personally saved or helped in
avoiding suffering. The gift itself had become guidance. He was as
appreciative of what it offered as the people his divine hands touched and
likely as cautious of what potential it had as his many enemies.
In parts of the world he was still a monster. To others he was hailed as a
savior. The duality of such conflicting opinions was once confusing but
eventually became insight into the mind of mortals. It was another concept
in the foreign framework of a mortal mind. They had a unique capacity to
see things in certain ways. When a mortal declared his mother to be a liar
he felt a bit more certain in how to distinguish this capacity for
clarification.
Mortals could be thoughtless. Careless. In spite of the instincts that
drive them to survival and the common interest of their existence they could
hate the White Moon. He pitied them.
Writer: Tahereh
Date Fri Jan 24 15:26:48 2014
Writer: Kerrisacza
Date Sat Jan 25 12:51:59 2014
To Nordmaar Althainia All immortal roleplay Kailyri Blaere Jaidyn
Subject Attack! Part 1/2
Pain. Agony. The insufferable lances like hot fire as the sensation raced
through her, and the cold steel of the hard-forged weapons that strove
against the natural armor of her scales. Time, for her, was difficult to
describe, even to the creatures she loved so dearly as her own family. Yet,
in the moment of combat, she was certain it was an experience that most
felt in a universal way.
Her heart thundered, quite literally, in her massive, draconic chest. Her
entire body was alight with energy like lightning racing through her very
bones. The energy helped to numb the pain somewhat, but they did not block
it out completely. In fact, the dragonness could feel every spot, every
source of her agony. In addition to the pikes and lances poking at her
hide, trying to find a weakness in her scales, there were numerous wounds
in the flesh of her maw, her gums riddled with them.
While her body was cold to the touch, her blood flowed hot across her
scales as it oozed from her wounds. She tasted the burnt metal flavor of it
on her tongue, a terrible and unnatural taste that set off deep triggers
within her. She convulsed, her massive head shaking within the building,
causing catastrophic damage equatable to the fiercest of winter storms.
The man who'd been stabbing her mouth found himself smashed against the
ceiling, and then he was flying through the air--along with her tooth--
hurtling towards the far end of the building. She let out a fierce roar,
expressing her displeasure and her pain, sharing her agony with the entire
northern kingdom. For miles around, Highlanders would be able to hear that
dreadful sound. She was no mere White, but an Ancient Silver. Powerful and
terrible in her wrath.
As she pulled her head out of the building, it was as though she could hear
the man's voice once more. Her blood boiled even as it poured out of her.
The sheer insult of his arrogance, his magnified pride. To think that he
could treat her like some beast, some lowly animal to be ordered about by
his whims.
The lower half of her body impacted into a building behind her, the pain
of the blow negligible in comparison to everything else she was feeling
and experiencing. Stone and motar crumbled around her scales as the entire
face of the building was shorn off, crushing numerous highland soldiers
that had surrounded her.
She was a Firstborne. Firstborne of Nadrik. Born in honor, bred in that
which was right. Her place was among the foremost protectors of the realm,
but here she was only causing destruction. Deep in her throat a growl
wanted to let loose. None of this would have happened were it not for that
man. She yearned to shred him apart, to tear him to pieces for his
insolence and thoughtlessness. But that would not do. No, there would be
no diplomacy if she killed Nordmaar's general, no matter how petty and
vindictive the man might be.
Writer: Kerrisacza
Date Sat Jan 25 12:53:02 2014
To Nordmaar Althainia All immortal roleplay Kailyri Blaere Jaidyn
Subject Attack! Part 2/2
More stabbing. More pain. The highlanders, who had backed off momentarily
from her sudden retreat, were on her again. Their bravery was truly
admirable. Most highlanders had a deep and abiding respect for her kind,
she'd noted. They were fully aware of the power of her kin, but they
were not cowed by it.
Even in the grimness of the situation, she felt a tinge of pride over
the matter. The highlands had always been a second home for her, a fierce
and stalwart neighbor. They'd forgotten their own history, surely, or none
of this would have happened. But that man, she knew him, she knew /he knew/
the history, and yet he still acted as he did. She felt anger swell in her
expansive breast once more.
Unfurling her leathery wings, she took off in the air. Arrows were let
loose almost instantly. This was a well-trained group. She curled her
wings around herself, letting the tough, outer membrane protect her and
the vulnerable underside of her wings. She did not want to cause further
damage and mayhem, but the highlanders also needed a lesson in respect. It
was clear they did not understand the forces they were fighting.
Deep within her gullet she felt it form. The sudden and terrible chill as
all of her energy drew within her. It rose up through her throat, fighting
to get out. Then, as if unleashing a sudden and surprise attack, Kerrisacza
revealed herself. She came out of her wings in a charging motion for the
ground. The cold winter air raced around her sinuous form as she held her
neck outstretched and let loose the culmination of her fury.
Cold air mixed with a noxious, paralysing gas, erupted from within her. All
over the streets and buildings she poured out both breath weapons. She
watched arrows fall and swords and spears shatter beneath the unbearable
cold. Men screamed unnatural screams and fell to their hands and knees as
their hands, feet, faces, succumbed to the chill and began to show awful
signs of frostbite. Others were overcome by the gas, falling, rigid as
boards, to the ground, helpless, unable to act.
Yet, even as their comrades were overwhelmed by her strength, yet more
soldiers poured in to replace their brethren. She'd shown her strength,
done her best to highlight the foolishness of the situation. Now it was
time to leave, time to let them pick up the pieces. She did not wish to
truly cause them harm. Besides, powerful as she was, an army of that size
had a far better chance of felling her than most.
She turned about almost as quickly as she'd descended upon them. Her tail
whipped behind her and then she was climbing in the skies, the powerful
stroke of her wings keeping her aloft as she soared over the tops of the
buildings until they looked like toys. Then it was southward. Retreating
from the highlands, the only thing she felt was regret.
There was no pride, no more rage, only the fierce sorrow for the needless
lives lost. She'd always been too close to the other races. Her own kin
rarely missed a chance to point it out to her. All the same, her infatuation
with them took its toll now. She felt a bitter pain more horrid than the
screaming of her wounds. The tragedy was overwhelming.
What had she done?
Writer: Jonathen
Date Sat Jan 25 22:13:18 2014
Writer: Flike
Date Sun Jan 26 03:12:00 2014
To All Arkane Imm Cayenna Atlantos Scorn Dekaios
Subject 250 Eggs
Jarinard stood at a window in the council chambers, staring out of it
with his arms clasped behind his back. The King`s eyes watched the traffic
amidst the bustling streets of Arkane proceed as it normally would, while
his own mind raced with potential solutions. There were three knocks on the
council chamber doors before King Silverleaf raised his voice to answer the
nonverbal greeting, `Enter. `
The minotaur Chancellor, Claxkus Casades creaked the heavy wooden door open
to gaze upon the troubled King. Being no stranger to the room, or the
influential man underneath the crown, the Chancellor approached the King
with confidence. `You wanted to talk to me about our obvious problem? `
The King turned around to observe Claxkus for a moment longer than was
comfortable for the Chancellor. He nodded, then gestured to the oval table
for Claxkus to take a seat. Claxkus casually dismissed Jarinard with the
wave of his hand. The Chancellor spoke again, `What do you want to do about
these White Tigers? They grow in number weekly. They are starting to even
rival our own military presence. The Marauders no longer even venture into
our streets -- they are afraid, or have refocused. Yet these vagabonds
continue to multiply like rabbits in our precious garden. `
Jarinard looked upon the Chancellor with a very serious gaze. He exhaled
deeply before turning his back on Claxkus to look out the window once more.
He shook his head and spoke as if he had regurgitated a worn out, heavily
recited speech. `The Tigers have to go. They were called here to aid with
a problem. The problem has been fixed. Now they are our problem. ` The
King coldly narrowed his gaze as he fell silent.
The Chancellor watched the King in silence before daring to break it with a
bold question. `What is it that you wish my to do, King Silverleaf? `
A sardonic grin crept upon the lips of the King as he maintained his steely
gaze through the window which observed the busy Arkanian streets. `I called
you here because I thought maybe you could be the one to solve this problem.
Find dirt. Test their loyalty to the crown. Make them disappear. Restore
balance to Arkane. `
Unsure how to respond to the King's vague request Claxkus simply replied,
`Your will shall be done, my liege. `
Writer: Yevrial
Date Sun Jan 26 08:47:05 2014
Writer: Xecil
Date Sun Jan 26 10:04:35 2014
Writer: Xecil
Date Sun Jan 26 10:22:13 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Sun Jan 26 23:26:30 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Sun Jan 26 23:48:49 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Mon Jan 27 11:25:13 2014
Writer: Ethiriel
Date Mon Jan 27 15:38:11 2014
Writer: Ethiriel
Date Mon Jan 27 20:24:48 2014
Writer: Cassian
Date Tue Jan 28 06:55:52 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 12:23:33 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 12:44:45 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 13:03:20 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 13:27:02 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 13:47:20 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 14:39:55 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 15:09:31 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 15:31:41 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 15:51:00 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 16:05:00 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 23:21:45 2014
Writer: Rikam
Date Wed Jan 29 23:42:03 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Jan 29 23:47:08 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Thu Jan 30 00:11:54 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu Jan 30 00:52:22 2014
Writer: Rikam
Date Thu Jan 30 15:35:03 2014
Writer: Jonathen
Date Fri Jan 31 00:02:39 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:22:55 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:03 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:08 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:13 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:18 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:23 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:27 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:32 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:36 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:40 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:23:46 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:24:16 2014
Writer: Kailyri
Date Fri Jan 31 13:24:58 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Fri Jan 31 13:34:51 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Fri Jan 31 13:41:59 2014
Writer: Rikam
Date Fri Jan 31 14:01:09 2014
Writer: Sarith
Date Fri Jan 31 15:16:15 2014
Writer: Mercerion
Date Fri Jan 31 19:27:16 2014
Writer: Rikkah
Date Fri Jan 31 23:14:02 2014
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sat Feb 1 16:06:43 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Sun Feb 2 07:50:59 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Sun Feb 2 08:04:22 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Sun Feb 2 08:05:50 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Sun Feb 2 16:17:41 2014
Writer: Sarith
Date Sun Feb 2 22:30:53 2014
Writer: Jonathen
Date Mon Feb 3 05:48:26 2014
Writer: Jonathen
Date Mon Feb 3 06:48:33 2014
Writer: Tyrinx
Date Mon Feb 3 16:50:58 2014
Writer: Leor
Date Tue Feb 4 22:43:21 2014
To All immortal Verminasia Shadow Liviya Laleine Malkom Marcaus
Subject Fel Rising [Part 1]
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
The sound of his footsteps preceded Leor, announcing his presence more
profoundly than any herald. He walked straight up the main road through
Verminasia. All around him, various citizens gave way and stared up at the
man as he made his way through their number.
It wasn't just his height that set him apart. He was tall, but not a giant
by any means. The young man's posture was perfect, like that of a
well-trained soldier. His gaze was powerful, cold blue eyes looked out
with a sharp, keen interest at the buildings and commoners around him. He
was dressed in a fine arrayment of armor, burnished with the love and care
that someone truly devoted to their profession might give. He paused,
letting his gaze fall on a man that appeared to be a guard. The guard
looked slightly uncomfortable at the gaze, not afraid, but unsettled.
"S-sir?" He finally managed after a pregnant silence. There were so many
questions laced into the one, All of them unasked, and yet asked All the
same.
His voice was deep, almost booming, with the sort of commanding quality
that is born of natural talent and specific training, "I seek out my
sister. Do you know where I can find her?"
The guard swallowed. He seemed to realize the scene he was making and
straightened his posture, composing his features. "Your sister, sir? I'm
afraid I don't know- ...who she is."
Leor let the silence draw out again, watching as the discomfort spread
across the man's features once more. Finally, when he'd teased enough out
of the man, he answered, "Half-sister. The Crown Princess of Verminasia:
Liviya Madaur." He didn't smile that self-satisfied smile that some might
at such a statement. Instead, his features remained composed. There was
some charm to them though, a bit of humor touching his cold eyes. It was
not a jovial look, but one that made him a bit less distant, just familiar
enough to put the guard at ease.
"Probably sitting that arse of hers on the throne, making a mould for it or
some sort-" The guard had a cheerful look, but his words and expression
were cut short by a look from Leor.
Coughing, the guard's tone changed with such a dramatic shift that one
might have thought he were an actor in a play, "I heard earlier she's in
the vestry. Might have moved, but she likes the quiet."
Writer: Leor
Date Tue Feb 4 22:46:18 2014
To All immortal Verminasia Shadow Liviya Laleine Malkom Marcaus
Subject Fel Rising [Part 2]
Leor nodded and placed a silver into the man's hand. He wouldn't take
nonsense about his sister, especially not with her station, but he could
still be known as a generous man. Tilting his chin back, he continued
forward down the street, towards his sister. His pace was slow, measured.
He took everything in. This was not his first trip to Verminasia, but he
had spent much of his time on the Fel estate, in their lands. His visits
had been frequent, and this was the first time he'd come alone, come as a
man ready to earn the value given to him by his name.
He'd only met Liviya once. She had been busy with other details, family
meetings. She spared him a formal hello, but, he was persistent, and,
before she left, she'd agreed to strike up a writing correspondence with
him. So, while she hadn't met him but once, she knew him. They'd had long
philosophical discussions about the gods, about ruling and loyalty to
family. From afar she'd practically tutored him, an entire education
supplemental to the one he'd been provided for by his mother, Laleiene.
He gave off the appearance of one noble born, but Liviya knew his heart. He
was afraid, intimidated. He'd managed not to mess up his entrance, but,
his inexperience would eventually show. He was untested on battle. His
poise came from hours upon hours of drilling, but never had he actually
been in real combat, never had his life been in danger.
His composure was a matter of breeding and of an atmosphere that surrounded
him in the highest standards of expectation. However, he'd always been
around individuals who complimented him, who had never said a word out of
line. The guard had reacted exactly as Leor had been told he would--but
what if he hadn't? What if he'd been belligerent, what if he'd stood up
and talked back?
He wasn't here to be perfect. He was here to learn. That was something he
knew he was good at. Leor had always been smart, quick of wit. His
teachers had told him that they reminded him more of one who studied the
arcane as a warrior. However, his size had dictated Leor's decision as
much as anything. Tall, strong and born with a natural athleticism, his
intelligence only served to heighten his ability to do battle. He'd taken
up the path of Arms because of this. He could have been a man of the wild
warrior's training, some called them Barbarians. But that was not who he
was. Such a path defied his noble calling, and, more importantly, his
judicious decision making.
If he made mistakes, and he was certain he would, he'd learn from them. He
would fall, but he would always fall forward, climbing the stairs. He was
a Fel, not some bumbling commoner who'd gotten lucky with a sword and made
a name for himself. His very blood flowed with the memory of Verminasia's
past. In his blood flowed the legacy of Mortati himself.
The name of Fel was not abandoned nor forgotten. It was time for the Fel to
rise again.
Writer: Phadynos
Date Wed Feb 5 13:49:37 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Wed Feb 5 14:22:04 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Wed Feb 5 14:55:29 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Wed Feb 5 15:30:31 2014
Writer: Ranan
Date Wed Feb 5 19:26:47 2014
Writer: Chut
Date Wed Feb 5 21:52:11 2014
To All Wargar
Subject Chut wakes up.
Chut was sleeping on a pew in the Pantheon. He slept in the back, in the
corner, near the rock wall. He couldn't bring himself to lay down anywhere
else in the Pantheon without being paralyzed by fear from memories of the
time Drobsek dragged him down off a pew by his ear and threw him outside t
"YER SNORIN AND FARTIN UP MAE HALL YE UGLAE STINKIN SQUAK! " were the words
that rang in his ear. The one that wasn't ringing already due to Drobsek's
fist.
But this was ages ago, so why was it happening again? Chut woke with a
start, stumbling clumsily off the pew. He was covered in a cold, slick
sweat.
"Ano'er damn nightmare. " he mumbled to himself.
Chut lay on the floor looking up at the ceiling. The light was very dim in
the Pantheon. The clan never truly sleeps, but Chut was the only thing
awake this night. He shivered on the cold, unforgiving rock as his heart
raced. He struggled to his feet and wandered on up to the fountain to
splash some cold water on his face.
"Ah'm gettin old. " he whispered, looking at his reflection in the
fountain. His one eye had a deep purple baggy look to it, while the ruined
eye socket, another reminder of the time he spent near Drobsek, was a mass
of scar tissue that would always stretch tightly over his cheekbone.
Chut sighed and drank deeply of the fountain. As the cold mineral water ran
down his throat, he heard a sound that made him choke and spew water back up
into the fountain.
"By tha gods, wot were that? "
Silence, save for a little light snoring coming from the nearby tavern.
"Ah'm nae imaginin things, ah know ah heard somethin-"
And there it was again, sobbing. Far off, deep within the caverns. The
soft, listless crying of someone who has nothing left but a deep, gaping
grief. Chut knew misery when he heard it.
"C'mon Betha. " he ordered.
The slim black cat perked up at the mention of her name and joined her
master at his heels, as he set off through the caverns in search of the
sound.
---TO BE CONTINUED---
Writer: Kaladon
Date Wed Feb 5 23:41:15 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Wed Feb 5 23:41:25 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Wed Feb 5 23:41:30 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Wed Feb 5 23:41:37 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Wed Feb 5 23:41:42 2014
Writer: Ranan
Date Thu Feb 6 09:52:42 2014
Writer: Ranan
Date Thu Feb 6 10:06:48 2014
Writer: Arillias
Date Thu Feb 6 13:50:16 2014
To All IMM Taliena Story
Subject The return to love pt.1
As Arillias was praying in the garden of Arkane when he saw a butterfly.
This butterfly vaguely resembled when he was met with her Love, Taliena one
night a long time ago. He glint with a smile and continue to pray...
Give them the same love and compassion that you gave me
He tightened his small bracelet in his hands as he looked up to the heavens.
Let your love pour down like rain
He rose up from the garden and continued to meditate as he pondered All that
She has done for him. Given the circumstances of his journey. He dropped a
book from his backpack and saw that it was his journal from the Keep.
That is my old life in the Keep. I thought you wanted me to be there, but
that was not my calling.
He placed the journal back in the proper section of his backpacked and
continued his thoughts...
Writer: Ashbie
Date Thu Feb 6 19:17:11 2014
To All verminasia roleplay
Subject Yar! A Pirates Life For Me! (ii)
The coin rose up in the air in a beautiful arc as it flipped once, twice,
three times. After the fourth flip, Ashbie stuck out her hand, palm up, to
catch the coin. A glimmer of light shone off the edge halfway down its
descent before there was a soft smack of the metal hitting her palm.
Heads.
Ashbie cursed under her breath and tucked the coin away into a pocket. She
tilted her head back and looked around the port in Haven.
All around her the signs of bustling activity from legitimate and
illegitimate merchants alike reached some sort of discordant harmony in this
remote city on the coastal edges of Tropica. Haven was its own place,
sovereign from the major foreign powers of the world. In such a place, laws
were more often guidelines than actual rule. They didn't have to respect
treaties declaring who could and could not sell what. However, because of
the abundance of illicit trade, many well-known merchants made private
dealings here as well, laundering looted goods because they could cut a deal
and increase their margin.
It was a life that Ashbie knew well. She'd spent more than her fair share
of time on ships learning the intricacies of the pirate trade. It was one
thing to call one's self a pirate, to steal away on such a crew for a time,
and quite another to live the life. To make the network arrangements for
sale of your loot, to know which ships were vulnerable where and how to slip
past the most aggressive patrols of the kingdoms on the ocean. There was a
beauty to it all, it was art in and of itself. It was Ashbie.
She took a step forward, the click of her heeled boots drawing the attention
of nearly every man as she walked by. She knew how she looked, and she
looked how she looked for that very reason. She bordered the line of
sensible and provocative because so many of these men were used to dealing
with women who looked more like thinner versions of themselves--with
breasts. Ashbie was a different sort, flaunting her attractiveness and
guarding it with a sort of zealous pride. Her early days on ships had been
spent hiding who she was, pretending to be a boy. However, after a certain
point, there was simply no hiding that she she was not. Nor did she truly
want to. She enjoyed the pretty arrayments of feminine outfits, and worked
them into the more sensible and protective leathers that she needed to
protect herself.
Ashbie had quickly learned to make a name for herself as a fierce fighter,
showing that she could go toe-to-toe with any man. The fact that there were
plenty of women sailors in more respectable parts of the world still didn't
seem to entirely sink in with the rowdier community of pirates. If a woman
didn't look like much, she might pass by with little abuse, though, in
truth, even such women often had to stand up for themselves in order to be
ignored when men felt they had their needs. Ashbie, however, had to go a
step beyond that.
She rolled the coin in her hand over her fingers: back and forth, back and
forth. A habit she'd picked up from her papa that he'd never really caught
her doing. Much of why things had gone so sour in her homeland was because
of the pugnacious attitude she'd had to develop while a pirate. There were
few who would back her up in a world dominated by men of ill intent. She
couldn't wait for them to come after her, she couldn't fight All of those
battles. Rather, she took it to them, often when they least expected it.
By exhibiting such a violent disposition, most men looked but did not
touch--just the way she liked it.
Writer: Jonathen
Date Fri Feb 7 14:26:17 2014
To All imm rp
Subject Heard being sung in any tavern of a kingdom that welcomes Jonah
Take me to the gates of ungrace
A grave set for a heathen's place
Wicked I live and in sin confide
Play with fire, slap it's backside
Drink, we're All friends in hell
Tip the help and they'll never tell
You can keep a secret for a price
Hell, let the devil roll the dice
It's only a gamble for your soul
Double it down and dig your hole
Go for broke, luck's come around
You're already dead you can't drown
Don't be scared to heed the call
A Chronicler saves a beer for all
It's only a demon, maybe a lich
Within our walls are many a niche
Many are welcome, hearty and bold
Count Vys can add you to our fold
Sindastre will take you to a keep
Purgatory it's name, dive in deep
Of you Valdin will make and mold
A soldier of death, rich with gold
Though if you like to cast a spell
Kourin for those in the Tower dwell
Don't mind Orlen, inquisiting away
It is his job to monitor your stay
Our women are pretty, loads of fun
Knock on death's door, enter Abaddon
Chronicler Jonathen Darksong.
Writer: Arillias
Date Fri Feb 7 16:48:33 2014
To All IMM RP Religion Taliena
Subject The return to love pt.2
Arillias was meditating on the Tenets of Taliena as usual and something
struck him.
5. Taliena's love ought to be aspired to by Her followers - We ought to
love not only our friends but show love to our enemies as Taliena does.
This stood out to him because this was his calling. Not only to follow all
other Tenets of Her but to also remind himself and others that enemies are
just as loved as friends.
He thought to himself,
Unconditional
He knew that his love must be as close as the unconditional love that
Taliena shows. He continued to twirl his bracelet and pondering this
concept and thought on how this will play out in his endeavors.
I must show All of Algoron the love Taliena has
He continued to pace back and forth thinking of the other priests that are
bound to her love and continue to send out couriers...
Writer: Kaladon
Date Sat Feb 8 08:01:07 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Sat Feb 8 08:13:05 2014
Writer: Kaladon
Date Sat Feb 8 08:21:37 2014
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sat Feb 8 09:27:49 2014
To All Arkane
Subject Fw: Rikkah's Adventures In Between!
| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rikkah
| To: Rikkah Lufio RP
| Subject: Rikkah's Adventures In Between!
| Date: Thu Dec 19 13:04:57 2013
Rikkah supposed she would reflect upon her parents often. She expected
to miss their jovial, laughing warmth, the closeness of family bond. The
familiarity of camp, her mother's prayers over the evening fire, her
father's dauntless unrelenting nature, never still, busy hands carving or
cooking . The young kender woman stood for a moment on the crowded main
street. People of All races moved past her with the current of
industrialism. Rikkah closed her eyes, bringing her face up to the sun, a
sudden homelessness overwhelmed her, a sharp inhale, the scent of the city
drowning any wafts of the sea surrounding Arkane and the feeling was done.
A light step and dexterous movement sent Rikkah off into the direction of
the port, though she was used to traveling by quicker means, she would use
the voyage to mull over what she would say when she came upon her parents.
Bertrim and Feriette Burrbramble kept a very low profile within the realm.
The couple had lived through the destruction of Balifore, but lost the rest
of their kin. This was before Rikkah had been born. She knew the story
well, Bertrim relaying the tale over late nights of storytelling. Certainly
many things were lost, but Bertrim and Feriette maintained a quiet happiness
throughout Rikkah's life. It was this passivity to All things worldly that
had finally pulled Rikkah from their protective care. She didn't understand
not wanting to be in the thick of All that went on in the world, it was so
filled with All sorts of interesting ideas and people. Her heart nearly
burst with All that she had come to treasure. She loved the sea so much
more intensely now that she had the freedom to ride the ships, instead of
watching from the edge of the forest. The journey continued. From her
sweet smiling face, Rikkah brushed a loose lock of pink-gold. The wind that
tugged was cool and filled with the tang of salt, listening to the crew
shout and buzz around her, hanging over the rail to watch the waves slap the
side of the ship, she felt a sort of strange lightness in her chest. It was
a jumble of emotion, anxious to see and speak with her parents, anxious to
see her boy once more, anxious to sail for herself and experiance the joy of
being a part of the crew. She stood up straighter, taking a deep breath,
settling the unruly emotion and giving and impish grin as she slipped off
the gangplank. Easing through the press of people leaving the port for the
cities, she broke into a light run. She cartwheeled and twirled with merry
amusement passing down the road, heading off to the dark, thick forests of
the Haon Dor.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sat Feb 8 09:28:04 2014
To All Arkane
Subject Fw: The Continuing Tale of Rikkah's Adventures!
| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rikkah
| To: Rikkah Lufio RP
| Subject: The Continuing Tale of Rikkah's Adventures!
| Date: Sat Dec 21 16:19:32 2013
The young kender woman stepped into a small hidden clearing, her step
light, yet alerting the occupants of the campsite. An middle-aged woman
emerged. Her bright coppery hair just turning to gray at the temple, her
pert face stern, then lighted with abandoned joy as she burst into a sprint.
Feriette Burrbramble grabbed Rikkah, her only child and daughter, up in her
arms, though the women were about the same height, Feriette still held the
strength to tightly enclose Rikkah in her arms. "Rikkah Joeni, my dear one,
I missed you! " Feriette burbled as she released Rikkah from the hold and
held her at arm's length. Rikkah blushed under the scrutiny of her mother's
dark blue eyes. Though Feriette was into her prime she still looked
youthful. Her rounded face only just showed her age around the mouth and in
the crease between her eyes. Her worry brow, she called it. She well
earned it. Her dark blue eyes narrowed as she saw her daughter for the
first time in several months. "Rikkah Joeni Burrbramble, what have you been
about? " Her mother drew out slowly, giving Rikkah a terse look. Rikkah
brushed the question off, her eyes the color of deep blue pansies taking in
the campsite. "Nothin', why do ya say that? " "Bertrim! Berty! Come
here, lover, " Feriette called, turning with Rikkah, her brow wrinkling up
in a familiar manner. An older kender man appeared in the campsite from
seemingly nowhere, his blond topknot striped with silver, warm tawny eyes
intensely interested. "Yes, my own true one? Oh ho! Rurry Burry! " He
exclaimed, closing the space between he and Rikkah in a bound, catching his
daughter and spinning her in a circle, laughing. Rikkah laughed with him,
grabbing her father and hugging him close. He was solid and smelled like
smoke and evergreen. Rikkah found herself relieved, pleasantly. Her
father's fingers found her face, cupping it between his hands to look upon
his daughter. His eyes searched Rikkah for All the stories. "My baby,
Rurry, it's good to see ya! " He kissed her forhead and cheeks
affectionately, "Tell me everything, it's good to have some fodder for the
evening fire. Yer mother is a horrible storyteller, " he exclaimed with a
droll expression. Giving Rikkah a wink and avoiding his wife's playful
swat, Bertrim led his daughter to the campfire. Rikkah felt herself
relaxing, All anxiety and excitment falling away from her shoulders as her
Dad began to fuss with the bubbling pot over the hot coals. She sat and
began to spin the adventures s she had since visiting last. Bertrim
listened with rapt attention, his face beaming proudly as he stirred their
supper. Feriette sat beside her husband, taking up some knitting and
watching Rikkah with an expectant knowing look, only a mother can give.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sat Feb 8 09:28:12 2014
To All Arkane
Subject Fw: And the Adventure continues!
| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rikkah
| To: Rikkah Lufio rp
| Subject: And the Adventure continues!
| Date: Sun Dec 22 13:21:16 2013
They talked into the evening, the forest growing still around them with
twilight and then bursting out with the onset of night, filled with the
nocturnal animal sounds. Bertrim served the soup in simple wooden bowls, as
familiar to Rikkah as anything in her parent's camp. She spoke of the
experiances living in the city, describing her feelings and impressions as
best she could to illustrate the excitement of the moments. Her parents
listened, interjecting with questions, watching her with fond eyes. She
concluded talking about her firends that she met, so many wonderful,
engaging personalities to pique her curiousity daily. She spoke of the
kender she had met, KendeRevolution and the ORB. The aspects of kender
culture that her parents never mentioned and she watched their reaction.
The shared glances Bertrim and Feriette revealed a pain that Rikkah couldn't
fully understand. She paused, thinking about the next part she wanted to
tell. Her body suddenly heated. Her mind brought up a flood of intimate
memories as she thought about Lufio. She closed her eyes, taking a
steadying breath. She could practically feel his body imprinting to hers,
the warm, enticing grip of his fingers against her own, the weight of his
body against her, moist, sweet breath on the back of her neck. She
fluttered her deep blue eyes open, blushing, glad for the flickering
firelight. Suddenly, sheepish as she focused, pressing those unbidden
thoughts back. She gave her parents an impish grin. Feriette gave Rikkah a
wry smile in return. Bertrim grinned back merrily oblivious to Rikkah's
lull in the tales. Rikkah, swiped her tongue over her bottom lip, folding
her hands together as she leaned forward, bringing her gaze to the fire.
"So I've met someone, rather dear to me, I want to tell you about him, " she
began with a little quiver in her voice, her heart thrilling at moment and
her fervent adrmiration for Lufio. Her mother set down her knitting, taking
up a goblet from beside her and filling it from the wineskin she shared with
Bertrim. "I knew this was coming, " Feriette remarked, looking at Bertrim.
"Look at her, will you? She's practically sparkling in the dark! " Bertrim
straighted on his stool, his tawny eyes widening and looking at once
wistful. Rikkah gave her parents a slow smile, her deep blue eyes glittered
with emotion in the light of the flickering flames. "I knew this was
coming, " Feriette remarked, looking at Bertrim. "Look at her, will you?
She's practically sparkling in the dark! " Bertrim straighted on his stool,
his tawny eyes widening and looking at once wistful. Rikkah gave her
parents a slow smile, her deep blue eyes glittered with emotion in the light
of the flickering flames.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sat Feb 8 09:28:20 2014
To All Arkane
Subject Fw: The next bit
| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rikkah
| To: Rikkah Lufio rp
| Subject: The next bit
| Date: Sun Dec 22 13:47:34 2013
"Rurry, my baby, when did you get so lovely and bright? " Bertrim
wondered with a soft voice. "You've suddenly grown and become a young lady,
but yer not -that- old. You have barely scratched the world's surface. "
He chuckled to himself, removing a pipe from his person, filling it, tamping
it and lighting it with a deft series of gestures. Drawing a gust of smoke
into himself, Bertrim gave his daughter a mocking wiggle of his brows.
Feriette snorted, placing a hand on her husbands arm. "You are a fool,
Berty. She's in love, deep into it, catch my hint, lover," Feriette stated
in a low tone, her profile offered Rikkah no clue as to how she should
interpret her mother's voice. Feriette turned to her daughter, her dark
eyes large and stormy with offense, though Rikkah was still uncertain as to
why. "So tell us about him. What's his name? Where's he from? What does
he do? How long have you known each other? What do you expect out of this
"dear one? " She mother shot at her, her chin gritted. Feriette slumped
her shoulders, placing a hand over her brow and rubbing. When she brought
her gaze back to Rikkah, her eyes were less angry and more hurt. "I
apologize, -my- own dear one. I just didn't think I'd lose you so quickly.
I do want to know All about him." "Why, we should meet him! " Bertrim
exclaimed, caught up in the conversation and emphasizing by jabbing toward
Rikkah with his pipe. "What's his face! " "Lufio, that's his name. Lufio
D. Hookey, " Rikkah said with a wide, happy smile across her face. "And he
used to live in New Thalos, but has just made the move to Arkane. I'm
pretty sure to be closer to me. " "Hookey... That's different, " Feriette
said, looking thoughtful. "Never heard of the family. We should meet soon.
I want to know All about this future son. " "Mama! Arr, don't say it that
way. It sounds so strange, " Rikkah laughed. Her mother gave her a level
look. "I will say it, if only to get you used to the idea and seal the
engagment you've already committed to, " Feriette retorted with a sardonic
expression over her face. "What do you mean? There's no engagement! "
Rikkah fumbled over her words, "we've only just begun to know each other. "
"What? " Her mother snorted. "I'd say from your glow, you've had quite a
bit of knowing each other, Rikkah Joeni. " Bertrim stopped smoking, turning
his eyes to Rikkah with a startled look. "Rikkah, have you been... Been
wrestling? " He demanded, rising from his stool. Rikkah sat back, with a
side glance, her expression revealed all. Bertrim gave a moan of such a
strange nature that Rikkah looked at him quickly. He threw his hands up and
paced a circle away from the fire, smoking like a devil. The plumes
writhing about his topknot as he muttered to himself. "I don't understand.
I thought ya would be over the moon! " Rikkah tried to explain, standing
and moving to her father. Feriette rose also and intercepted Rikkah with a
gentle hand. She smiled at her daughter with a teary look, shaking her
head. "We are very happy for you, spilling over with joy. We just... This
is hard for us, Rikkah Joeni, you must think about it. We've only had each
other and you for ever so long. It's a lot to take in. We've missed you
terribly. So, give us some time to adjust and let us meet your Lufio. You
are not so little and we've taught you as much wisdom as we could. You're
not our little girl any longer, so take care and be well. I'll talk to your
Dad and we'll meet up by Gift Day, " her mother ended with a tender draw of
her daughter into her arms and soft kisses over Rikkah's forehead. "If...
If that's what ya want. I suppose, aye. I love you, Mama. I'm so sorry I
disappointed ya both, " Rikkah returned, her deep blue eyes starting to tear
as the realization of events came into a new light. Her mother clucked her
tongue, laughing lightly and hugging Rikkah close.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sat Feb 8 09:28:29 2014
To All Arkane
Subject Fw: And the end.
| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rikkah
| To: Rikkah Lufio rp
| Subject: And the end.
| Date: Sun Dec 22 13:48:34 2013
"You are not a disappointment, never, never to us. We never let you be
naive about what went on between us and perhaps that wasn't wise on our
part, but I think you are a beautiful, intelligent woman and your decisions
are sound. Let us meet him before we All become unhinged with curiousity!
" The rest of night went well, her father returning eventually to the fire
to palavar into the late night.
Writer: Amyth'lynn
Date Sat Feb 8 11:58:10 2014
Writer: Lunez
Date Sat Feb 8 14:21:01 2014
To All New_Thalos Randorf Azzure Marcaus Telthian Bodrum Imm (Elite Gladiators: Morith Yavaran Eamenoth Thesh )
Subject The Chronicles of Thesh Dridesh: Prelude
The wooden walkway creaked under his feet as he paced along the perimeter
of the slave pens. Even at this height above the pens, the size and
characteristics of the unfortunates below him could be seen with stark
detail and contrast from one another. Some sat in heaps like broken men, a
look of uncertainty pasted across their faces. Others fought with each
other like animals as the handler looked on approvingly beside Lunez as they
perused potential Elites-to-be.
"They bae ah fine lot, most o' em, true fighting spirits, surelae they cin
win ye ah prettae coin in th' Elite arena, " the handler said aloud proudly.
Lunez looked the potentials over. They were varied from All sorts of
regions of the world and he couldn't help but wonder how these unfortunates
came to be under the ownership of the Del'nichi family. Most unfortunate
indeed, he thought to himself as he toiled over which one to elevate from
the filthy pens to give a fighting chance at freedom.
A gaunt yet fiercely muscular human towered amidst a crowd of other
fighters, clearly he was their pack leader. His face was strong and
possessed a sense of resolve that was impressive. Just as Lunez was about
to point to the man, another caught his eye. A hobgoblin man clad in rags
and various vermin bones tied around his neck, wrists and ankles. The
hobgoblin sat alone from the others, completely still, with eyes closed, and
legs crossed. Even in his meditative state, his head was held with a regal
pose.
"What of that one, the loner in the corner, " asked Lunez.
The handler peered over at the goblinoid and just spat down into the pens.
"He bae ah pitiful excuse, he nay fights when we tell em to fight, he nay
eats when we tell em to eat, ahn he nay moves unless ye force em spear
point. Pitiful, " spat the handler.
Lunez gazed upon the hobgoblin and asked, "Why do the others leave him be?
The handler shrugged and picked at a scab on his elbow as he replied, "Ah
nay know, they jus' leave em bae, ah seem to recall ahn incident some time
back, nobodae talks to em since. Either way, nay ah worthy fighter, jus'
wastin' ye coin on em. "
"Where did you acquire him? " asked Lunez.
"Caught betwine ah tribal war, his side lost, ahn th' victors sold em to the
Del'nichi but now these others, trulae fit for ah Sultan--" He was cut off
abruptly as Lunez pointed to the hobgoblin and proclaimed, "That one. He's
the one I want. The Hobgoblin. "
The handler wiped the spittle off his cheek and shrugs as he gestured
towards the other handlers down below to fetch the Sultan his pick. As
Lunez turned to leave, he caught the goblinoid looking up at him briefly but
was soon overshadowed by several handlers as they surrounded him with
chains.
It was a thoughtful ride back home to the Desert Jewel. The goblinoid, an
unlikely choice he thought to himself but he was not yet broken by the
entrance into slavery, and he had a mind still intact worthy of a being who
would earn his freedom.
"Let us see my new friend, what you're capable of, " Lunez said aloud as a
hint of a dervish smile began its escape from the corners of his mouth.
Writer: Yevrial
Date Sat Feb 8 20:18:09 2014
Writer: Jahrial
Date Sat Feb 8 22:27:22 2014
Writer: Jahrial
Date Sat Feb 8 22:58:05 2014
Writer: Amyth'lynn
Date Sun Feb 9 10:55:54 2014
Writer: Amyth'lynn
Date Sun Feb 9 11:02:29 2014
Writer: Nazerin
Date Sun Feb 9 13:04:44 2014
Writer: Lufio
Date Sun Feb 9 15:48:30 2014
Writer: Lufio
Date Sun Feb 9 16:00:36 2014
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sun Feb 9 18:00:47 2014
To All Arkane Lufio
Subject This is How Pirate Kender Get Engaged! (I)
The Orchard presented a calm and tenuous respite from the outside world.
Picking the lock on the tall iron gate, the two kender slipped from the
ruins of Balifore to the ethereal gardens. Both kender seeming about the
same height, the taller with a topknot of dreaded dark locks, boldly pulling
the other who bore a bright banner of pink-gold trailing behind her. Lufio
and Rikkah entered the acreage, and though small it appeared to the kender a
a fabulous plantation of fruits. Rikkah practically glowed with pleasure at being
led to one of her favorite places on the entire continent.
'Oh, here it is, I think.' Lufio stated, turning to Rikkah.
As his warm amber eyes met hers, he caused her heart to constrict, just as
it did the first time they met. She followed him through the grove, to a
certain graceful cherry tree, scattering its tiny pink petals along the
ground. Lufio walked up to the tree and gave it a hard kick, watching a few
cherries fall to the ground.
They had come to the Orchard because Lufio claimed that he had found a
unique cherry, wanting to show it to Rikkah. She observed him as he
searched through the cherries, rather puzzled as he tossed aside each bright
ruby fruit. Catching a discarded cherry, she quipped, 'Don't damage that
tree with yer awesome might!'
Lufio backed up, gaining ground before running to the tree to dropkick it,
landing on the ground adroitly, elbows propping him up. The cherries rained
down, the tree none the wary, giving up its ripe fruit. He turned to Rikkah
with a grin at her words, then sprang up and began shuffling through the
downed fruit, searching from cherry to cherry. Rikkah gave a sparkling
laugh, her head tossed back with mirth. She caught up more of the rejected
cherries, gathering them into her hands and popping one into her mouth.
Lufio kept moving through the fallen fruit, Rikkah, bemused with a smile
over her lips. He could become so easily obsessed, she thought, then turned
and spat a pit onto the grass. Lufio gave a heavy sigh, shaking his head,
his dark column of dreadlocks swaying with his disapproval. His mutterances
of, 'No, no not the right one...' sounded intermittently his process of
finding a cherry, experimentally
biting into a cherry, spitting out the pit
and shaking his head.
Rikkah tried to defend the castoff fruit, saying with a little giggle,
'These are All good, Lufio!'
Lufio chuckled, giving a grin as he watched Rikkah eat the cherries. His
fingers stumbled along the grass and caught a cherry between them, holding
it up to his gaze thoughtfully and uttered a small 'Ahah...' Lufio
looked dubiously over at Rikkah's indulgent savoring of the cherries he had
discarded, adding to impugn her selection, 'Not as good as the one I found.' He made sure Rikkah didn't get but just a glimpse of the special
discovery, placing the selected cherry into his balled up robe promptly with
his usual smug demeanor.
Rikkah's cherry-stained lips produced even more of a pout, helpless in the
beginnings of forlorn indignation, curiously intoning, 'What makes it so
special?'
'Wouldn't you like to know. It's mine! You can't have it.' Lufio
teased, almost purposefully as if he gleaned enjoyment from controlling
Rikkah's knowledge.
He egged on Rikkah's curiosity even more by holding open his robe for only
him to appreciate the sight of his new found treasure.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Sun Feb 9 18:36:09 2014
To All Arkane Lufio
Subject This is how Kender Pirates get Engaged (II)
Confusion settled into Rikkah's features, as apparently the reason for
coming to the Orchard became lost, and she gave a little noise of protest.
'I thought the whole point of this venture was to show me this special
cherry! '
Lufio shrugged, responding 'It's special because it's worth a lot. It means
the world to me. It's a treasure! Not to be eaten, but kept. '
Rikkah narrowed an eye, looking impertinent as she leveled her deep blue
gaze on Lufio, prompting him to relent a dramatic, Fine! If you want to see
it-' Rikkah cut him off with her growing ire, retorting, 'I wanna see how
special it is after sitting in yer robe for a week, and folded her arms
across her chest, looking at Lufio as if he was irrational with his keeping
the specialness All to himself.
Lufio laughed at Rikkah, 'See, that's the thing. It's special because it'll
still be fresh in about a week. Even in a month. Even in a year! '
Rikkah gave him an endearing look, settling herself down on the grass beside
Lufio. 'Alright then, I wont snatch it from ya. Show me that wonderful
cheery cherry, luv. ' Lufio gave Rikkah a smile, slowly rummaging through
the pockets of his robe and withdrawing a cherry, only it wasn't a cherry.
It was a ring. He scoffed, assuming a look of disgust 'What the-? This
isn't it! Baaaah, this is kinda worthless to me. Ya want it? '
Rikkah knowing full well Lufio's teasing nature, accepted the ring, looking
at it with a questioning gaze. Lufio turned to Rikkah, as serious as she'd
ever seen him, adding, 'If you keep it, you -have- to marry me, though.
Well, what do ye say, Rikkah Burrbramble? Marry me? '
She had about to make some sassy comment, but the proposal stopped her
mouth. She brightened, tackling Lufio to the fragrant grass, laughing. 'Of
course I will! Yes! ' Rikkah exclaimed, peppering kisses over Lufios face,
causing him to return them as they both toppled over with her excitement.
Good,' Lufio stated, 'I need the world to know who my co-captain in life
is.' Rikkah settled on Lufio's chest, putting the ring on her finger and
placing a firm kiss on his lips.
She answered with a smirk, 'That will be fine with me, I'm kinda tired of
strangers propositioning me.' She looked at the amber-eyed skull and
crossbones ring, the patterned rubies against surrounding black onyx over
the crown. Rikkah said, 'With this design, when I punch 'em, they'll
remember who I belong with.' and grinned impishly.
Lufio gave a hearty laugh, relenting 'Good point. The last thing they'll
see is my amber eyes staring them down. They'll have nightmares everytime
they close their eyes. Wow, youll make me famous!'
Rikkah tossed back her head a peal of sparkling laughter escaping her lips, 'You
already are!'
Writer: Jahrial
Date Sun Feb 9 22:22:59 2014
Writer: Hanon
Date Sun Feb 9 23:51:06 2014
To All slayers nordmaar jahrial ( RAIJE CLIATH RP IMM )
Subject Rise of the Thauma
Bangin'. Bangin'. Wot the hell was that noise. Hanon scratched the
back of his head and rolled off the edge of the table. There had been
screams of anger and shrieks comin from the keeps inner depths. Strange
mutterings of thauma entering the keep along with the common visions.
Rumors of manatonics within the keep was not unheard of manatonics held a
natural power that was known throughout the lands, and was particularly
renown throughout his homeland to the north. Unlike the dragons or the
divine, giants or even vampirisim, the thauma seemed to be able to move from
one person to another. Countless years had been used to study it by the
High Clergy into the matters of Vampirsm the Divine and Thauma, however
little ways had been gained in the ways to defeat any of these. Thauma was
known to have a different property, to not favor sides. Hanon stood up and
poored himself a glass of wine from the carafe in the library.
Heading through the trapdoor and down the ladder he moved down through the
coridoors All the while hearing the noise throughout the manor. There was a
power within the thauma that did not corrupt the individual and could keep
them themselves. There had to be a way to use it but the clergy had found
no cure for it or the vampirism that plagued the lands. Hanon stepped
through the portal into Icewall and began his trudge north, it was time
again to meet with some claimed to have quite a bit their own
Writer: Rikkah
Date Mon Feb 10 09:56:46 2014
To All Arkane Lufio
Subject Around the Evening Fire (I)
They were sitting around the evening fire, just as they had ever since
Rikkah began memories. The fire was crackling, colored in deep orange,
flickering gold, the coals simmering red, a hidden blue flame beneath a
collapsed blackened log, flicking it fire tongue out. Rikkah always enjoyed
a campfire, the way it changed its face throughout the evening, like a
living creature, consuming itself until exhausted. Her parents had moved to
the Midennir and though it was deep and dark, patrolled by goblins, they
seemed to be enjoying their stay within the dense forest. The little camp
had been set up, precautions taken to warn them ahead of time of interlopers
and beasts that may want to make a light snack of two middle-aged kender.
Bertrim and Feriette Burrbramble were adept forest dwellers, their little
triangle camp complete with their collapsible tepee, hemmed in by branches
for camouflage. So, the smoke from the fire rose into the branches of the
twisting boughs above them, diffused by leaves.
The family met together late afternoon and traded stories into the gloaming,
passed the dinner meal with light conversation and were settling down for
wine. Rikkah spoke of her friends, their adventures in which she shared,
the quality of life she was living, ever enticing her parents to join her in
Arkane. Yet they refused.
"Rikkah, our life is in the woods, " her father laughed, tipping back his
head, the silver in his hair catching the firelight, looking golden once
more. Her mother agreed with a grunt, taking a swig from her goblet, her
dark eyes on her daughter. She took up her knitting. Rikkah gave a sigh.
There was no arguing with those stubborn folk.
"I only think life would be easier fer ya in the city. Theyve lovely inns
to stay in, plenty of already prepared food, decent people. You could trade
skills. Im sure theres a market for yer art. Theres plenty of those with
coin-
"Rurry Burry, since when have ya known your parents to be interested in
coin? The forest provides everything we need. We havent want for more, "
her father cut in. He put down his carving, setting it next to the stool
that matched the two others Rikkah and her mother perched upon. His blue
eyes flashed to catch his daughters expression. Her mother just looked
smug, her intuition as keen as a knife.
"What's this really about? " Her father queried, poking the fire with a
stick. He set another couple logs onto the fire, crossed his legs and set
back, to look Rikkah full in the face. Rikkah pursed her lips, giving a
small roll of her shoulders, wondering how her parents could always make her
feel like a girl who was only a decade, rather than a young woman of twenty
and one.
Writer: Rikkah
Date Mon Feb 10 10:21:06 2014
To All Arkane Lufio
Subject Around the Evening Fire (II)
"Its just I want you to be safe and closer to me. I dont wanna have to
try to find ya every time I wanna visit. I swear yer both getting damned
sketchy the older ya get. I mean, there are things in my life I want ya to
be there for. I have some news and I dont wanna have to search All over the
countryside when I wanna share it, " she answered. Feriette popped up off
her stool, knocking it back, her brow furrowed, lips pressed thin.
"Youre gonna have a child! " Her mother burst out. "I knew this would
happen! Rikkah Joeni Burrbramble, youre still a child yourself! " Rikkah
gave her mother an incredulous look.
"Wha-? What? Child? No! No, Mama, no. I'm most certainly not havin' any
babbies anytime soon. I'm fairly sure, anyhow. Sit down, that's not what I
wanted to say. " Rikkah sat down and her mother grabbed her stool and sat
abruptly, dark eyes looking skeptical, exchanging glances with Bertrim. Her
father had been startled, but now took out a pouch and pipe and set to
lighting it and smoking thoughtfully. They both look expectantly at their
daughter, waiting. Rikkah drew in a breath, letting it out slowly as she
curled her lips into a grin.
"Lufio has asked me to marry him and I said I would, " She stated simply.
Her father looked delighted, her mother pensive. Rikkah accustomed to both
casts very well. It was the same expressions she had received from them
anytime she made a change in her life, her father supportive, ready to send
her off and hear the tales when she returned, her mother close- mouthed,
unimpressed with Rikkah's plans and wary of Rikkah's ability to care for
herself.
"Mama, I thought you would be happy. I found someone who will adore me and
share my adventures. Just like you and Dad. Eh, but without All the hidin'
and eschewin' society. "
"She is, Rurry, well, she will be. Once we warm her up to the idea, " her
father was already standing behind Feriette, rubbing her shoulders, though
she didnt look as if she were warming to anything. Feriette rounded on her
daughter, standing and jutting a finger in Rikkahs direction.
"I just think you are too young. I wandered until well into my third decade
then I met your father. When... Then our lives were changed forever! Not
just with the loss of our families but with your arrival. I just don't
trust the world, it's not a decent place. People may seem like theyre
helpful, but what has anyone done about Balifore? The elves with All their
wisdom of ages? The humans with All their ingenious ideas of stewardship,
where are they? What have they done to scour the stain Malachive and those
ravaging armies left on our home and hearts. They don't care about us!
Most just seek to use us for our skills. The world is selfish, Rikkah Joeni
and it is better for us to live our lives away from it. Hopefully we pass
on to a better place, a permanent home! "
It was a rant Rikkah heard many times before, her mother was so raw, even
after All this time. Rikkah knew better than to ask questions or try to
reason, she let her mother ramble on as did her father. Rikkah took out a
golden coin, flipping it absently, catching it and noting it was heads. She
turned her attention back to her mother. Feriette petered out eventually,
collapsing onto her stool with a whimpering moan, holding her head in her
hands, her coppery hair, worn short as always, looked exceptionally bright
in the firelight. Rikkah suddenly wondered over her parents age, their
tenacity and the prolonged time they spent separated from society. How much
longer would they be able to maintain their anonymity before the world found
them? What would happen then? She didnt want to think about it anymore,
Rikkah shook her head, watching her Father comfort her Mother. Their close
relationship was something she could only hope to strive for with Lufio.
Time would tell if Lufio and she had the persistence to be as successful at
marriage as her parents. Time was a harsh mistress.
Writer: Ellminaidra
Date Mon Feb 10 10:37:41 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Tue Feb 11 16:25:18 2014
Writer: Rikkah
Date Tue Feb 11 16:41:15 2014
To All Arkane Lufio Bertrim Feriette
Subject The Last Evening before Change
The last vestiges of twilight were divesting themselves of shadowy
cobwebs, replacing them with the ornaments of night. Bertrim looked up from
the canopy of a great tree, into the darkening sky. His temper was even,
though his mind had come to some decision and it was written in his stance,
in the expression of his blue blue eyes. Feriette and he would travel.
They would move to Arkane. He was set and his resolve strengthened with the
glow of the visible moons, the winking starlight.
"Bertie! Love, come down and eat yer rabbit! Its growing cold and I know
full well how you loathe cold hasenpfeffer! " Feriette called from the camp
below. She was in a rare delighted mood, not of course because she was soon
to be moving to a city this Bertrim had not yet disclosed, but because of
Rikkah's happiness. Her daughter found love and not just ordinary love, but
true love. This was the cause of Feriette's joy, that her daughter was
bonded with a love beyond treasure. Bertrim climbed down the tree and stood
in front of the fire. His quietness moved Feriette to seek his gaze with
her dark eyes.
"What? You look... Determined to something, my love, " She queried,
sitting on her stool, across the fire. Bertrim look over his bride, his
soul mate, the one consistent remaining solid circumstance in All his life
and grinned.
"We're gonna join Rikkah in Arkane. We must. She's settled there. We been
parted long enough, now it is time to exit the woods and join with our
daughter once again, " He stated with a resolute tone. He took out his pipe
and pouch, watching Feriette's reaction, amused. He went through the
motions of preparing his pipe, lit It and drew, before Feriette responded.
"Yer right, I know it, love, " She started quietly, there was a note of
defeat in her voice. "Its been a good camping trip, yes, mine own true one?
" She turned her dark eyes to her husband, All soft wondering and curious
sparkle. Bertrim let the smoke plume from his nostrils, smiled gently at
his wife, nodding.
"Yes, my sweetheart, this has been the merriest camping trip of my life. I
feel fortunate I have spent the last two decades campin' with you. "
It was the next day Bertrim Burrbramble walked out of the forests of the
Miden'nir to travel by ship to join Rikkah, his daughter in Arkane.
Feriette would soon come, she needed time and meditation to transition into
the city.
Writer: Diuxa
Date Wed Feb 12 10:40:58 2014
To Chaos Erebaal Crothus All - Malachive Scorn Imm RP
Subject The Message
Every step fell with the weight of what was to come.
The flames of change. The ashes to follow. Rebirth through chaos.
The power slithered forth in latent response, its coiled rage slipping
through the ground at her feet, fed through the twisted staff upon which was
affixed the accursed crozius. The bruising corruption spread out, writhing,
preparing for what was soon to come. She could feel the same power, albeit
in the form of leashed malevolence in her cloaked companion, who managed to
walk in a sphere of impressive silence.
He would be the shape of what was to come this day.
She carried this forth, empowered by a single word.
Preach
The wooden platform was before her and she stepped upon it, her purpose
rising, and then she set the end of her staff to the ground. The resonant
*thrum* that rushed outward like an impact to the air turned every eye in
the village toward her.
"You stand upon the precipice of a new age!" She cried out and watched
with an edge of malicious glee as every soul before her covered their ears,
grimacing, some crying out in pain or surprise. "An age of rebirth!
Through fire and ash, blood and death! But such is the way of the world"
-and she paused to pass a disdainful glance over the growing mob- "that it
requires demonstration."
All semblance of emotion left her momentarily as the moment's pinnacle drew
close.
"If not for those who might seek to enlighten the uneducated," she went on,
her voice lower, steeped in the ominous portent she channelled, "the lands
would forever linger in willful ignorance."
Riotous anger erupted from the twenty or so who had gathered. She watched
as women herded the children away. Some drew daggers, others wielding
farming tools as impromptu weapons. Even the elderly shook their fists,
denouncing her and her message. She waited while they clamored, allowing
their anger to build. Fuel for the fire.
Writer: Diuxa
Date Wed Feb 12 10:42:33 2014
To Chaos Erebaal Crothus All - Malachive Scorn Imm RP
Subject The Message
It wasn't until they began to surge forward, their rage a palpable sense in
the air, that she stood forth. Her cloak fell back, her breath misting in
the chill air though she felt it not, and she stood to her full height. So
too did the man at her side and it was to his terrifying presence that the
people fell back. His weapons unsheathed with a finality that rent the very
air.
Her staff rose forth and this time, the crozius took aim at the assembled.
There was still rage but she could see and taste the fear that had been
shaped. It grew and grew, feeding the chaotic power that breathed through
her, through him.
"Pray to your Old Gods!" She growled and her fury began to rise like the
tide before a hurricane, the winds whipping the waves into a frenzy, to
shatter against the cliff sides. "And know you are abandoned. Know that
they-who-shall-fall have condemned you! Through Chaos, you will have new
meaning! Through Chaos, you will be freed!"
"His Harbinger, His Word Bearer, walk among you! Fall now, as the blind
wretches you are. For Malachive, the Redeemer!"
Flames writhed to life in the palm of her free hand, comprised of nebulous
corruption. The first soul enveloped by the inchoate fire screamed, a
shrill sound that cut the air as surely as a blade and then the man at her
side let loose his own blood-curdling battle cry and waded into the group
remorselessly.
The first drop of his weapons sent arterial spray through the air. It
struck her, hot and metallic, and her fury let loose.
The sky was darkening, the clouds lit beneath a blood red by the setting
sun, when the job was done. She stood on the platform still, blood and
thicker things dripping from her. Her companion was likewise draped in a
gory display but she knew his mind on that matter, which mirrored hers.
Every body had been gathered. There'd been enough for both the symbol that
adorned the ground around the platform and the spikes that stood as
testament for any who might happen upon this unmistakable message.
No further words were spoken, there was no need, as both turned to leave -
their forms silhouetted by the burning buildings encircling what had been
done.
Writer: Madelina
Date Wed Feb 12 17:29:07 2014
Writer: Zalib
Date Wed Feb 12 22:39:52 2014
To Althainia All (Story) (Rp) (Imm)
Subject Orphan - A journey
A warm breeze blows in from the south as Zalib looks out on the city.
Its beauty and magnificence only enhanced by the numerous torch lights being
snuffed out, one by one. On this balcony he stands leaning his hands on the
railing, thinking. Remembering. Any shred of his past he tries to conjur
up only to be whisked away like a cloud of black smoke. His eyes dart from
building to building not seeing any of the city but trying to grasp and hold
desperately to those memories. Every cloud a feeling of hope. Every vision
of the smoke whisking away a, crushing feeling of despair. Here stands the
orphan. A man who knows not where he comes from, is last name only given to
him by his adoptive parents when he was twelve. For as long as his memory
serves him he remembers orphanages, from week to week being shuffled about
like some product in a merchant's wares. The warm breeze turns into a
slight chill and Zalib pulls his cloak around him tighter. Where did he
come from? Why did his parents leave him? Among the black clouds of smoke
these questions strike through like rays of stark white cutting into the
comfortable numbness of a broken memory. Hope, after years of contemplation
one of the city brought him hope. A woman's name, Mother Dandrige, the
owner of an orphanage. Could he have been to this orphanage? Could she
know where he came from? She was known to have an abundance of cabbage
which she fed the orphans who were otherwise malnourished. Cabbage. Soup.
Cabbage soup. The smell plays before his nose as a distant memory comes to
him. One vague with laughter and scolding, and the smell of cabbage. He
found hope. At the least it was a start. But how could he leave his new
found home? How could he go searching for something potentially fruitless
over staying an building a life for himself among the wonderful friends he
has made? How? He has to, for the sake of his family. If they are still
alive. A desire for closure burns in Zalib's chest. A call he can not
ignore. He picks his hands off the railing when he hears the growing volume
of soft foot steps coming closer....
Writer: Ashlen
Date Wed Feb 12 22:43:12 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Wed Feb 12 22:43:19 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Wed Feb 12 22:43:31 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu Feb 13 08:04:09 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu Feb 13 08:04:42 2014
Writer: Ashlen
Date Thu Feb 13 08:05:29 2014
Writer: Casiella
Date Thu Feb 13 13:35:00 2014
To Abaddon Jonathen All Fatale Immortal
Subject [The Darksong Family Begins]
Tiny hands, chubby and pink, latched onto a lock of black hair holding
tight. The infant squealed delightedly as her father laughed and gave her a
little bounce, then nuzzled his nose against the little hand. Green eyes
gazed into green eyes and for no short amount of time, a deep bond of love
linked father and daughter together. As Cas watched the pair from the
doorway, she smiled, her hand resting on her newly swelling stomach.
Sensing her presence, her husband picked up his head and gently coaxed tiny
fingers out of his hair. He shifted his daughter, his first born, into one
gigantic palm and then opened his arms, beckoning his wife by patting the
top of his leg. She needed no other invitation as she moved to nestle in,
reaching for their child to cradle close to her bossom. Big, muscled arms
circled tightly about them both and while warm lips caressed the flesh of
her neck, a deep, soothing voice hummed a lullaby to both females.
Outside of their home, a storm was ravaging the lands. Rain poured water
into the swollen swamplands until they overflowed and lightning and thunder
raked the skies without mercy. Inside of their home, however, a fire burned
cheerfully, popping and crackling. While her own red hair was capture and
successively gummed with an impressive amount of drool, Cas relaxed into her
husband and his unfaltering strength.
"Our children will be spoiled, " she murmured quietly as the lullaby did its
work, coaxing the beautiful baby into sleep.
He did not respond verbally, but a big finger, with inspiring gentility,
stroked against a chubby, pink cheek. It still brought her so much
amazement that such a large, otherwise clumbsy, man could show such care in
delicate and gentle motions. It still brought her great joy, as well.
After their daughter had been placed within her bassinet, a little thumb
suckled upon in slumber, the fiery red-headed woman found herself scooped up
and carried off toward the bedroom.
"You should be resting, woman, and I know just how to make that happen. "
A sinful thrill entered her as the words growled against her neck, her hair
catching against light stubble. She smiled wickedly in return, wrapping her
arms around her husband, lowering her voice to a sultry whisper.
"Mm, and may there be many more Darksong children to come. "
And there were.
Writer: Flike
Date Fri Feb 14 03:50:44 2014
To All Arkane Imm Cayenna Atlantos Scorn Dekaios
Subject 350 Eggs
The Shrine of Cliath emitted a naturally eerie yet comforting red glow
upon the curious faces who gathered. The meaning for this meeting being
called for the Knights of the White Tiger had not been disclosed, but its
importance was made very clear. Familiar faces littered areas of the shrine
whereupon fresh blood into the order tended to flock around like wet sand
clinging to an anchor. Flike quietly waited at the obvious front of the
shrine with a smile, silently taking head counts over and over again until
he was satisfied. Flike raised his voice and broke the murmuring that
polluted the acoustic setting.
`Thank you for coming, everyone. As you know, this meeting holds a lot of
weight for our future, and potentially the future of our allies, as well as
the future of the people of Algoron. We are about to discuss a topic that
will decide if we will embark on a quest in which has been deemed
impossible. We are about to potentially break ground into Algoron history.
We are about to-` A throat was cleared loudly, and a booming, angry voice
followed. Denrian spoke, in a rare instance, and passion was evident in
every rushed word that ensued.
`Excuse me everyone, but there is something that has been keeping me up at
night. We need to talk about an issue. An issue that resides within our
own formation. `
The unscheduled monologue created a pause in everybody within the shrine,
Flike included. Eyes turned to one another and the murmur started once
more. Denrian looked around the shrine, almost feeding on the confusion
that broke out amongst the gathered.
`It has come to my attention that we are now allowing Dark Elves into our
ranks. This is going to taint our image, and cause nothing but trouble. {`
Denrian`s eyes seemed to look everywhere amongst those gathered except for
the young Dark Elf in the crowd, Niata Therkest. Niata shied her face away
from the inevitable glances that started in her direction from those
surrounding her. She took a few clumsy, upset steps away from the front of
the crowed through the small mass of bodies, nudging other Tigers away in
embarrassment, fleeing the room in shame. Denrian`s eyes watched her figure
flee the entire time, showing no emotion from the display on his own facial
features. He wanted until she had found the back of the shrine to continue.
`This is unacceptable and we really need to take into consideration how this
will affect our-`
A debonair, white haired wild-elf raised his hand with a coy smirk playing
on his lips, fully realizing intrusion as he spoke. `This is fine and all,
but please tell me, do we really have to listen to -this- guy? I mean, we
did come to hear what Flike has to say, did we not? `
Denrian`s eyes narrowed. Denrian fixated his gaze on Rhodian and gave him
all but a fuming snarl in his silent glare. Rhodian stared back at Denrian
with a confident smirk, obviously enjoying the challenge. Denrian grunted
and threw his hand to his breast, clenching the `KWT` badge that rested
proudly on his armor. In one fluid motion he ripped the badge from the
linen it was pinned to, and cast it to the ground in front of everyone. He
spit on the ground, following up his excretion with a growl `Damn you all.
I will find somewhere that actually has order to it. This is a goddamned
joke. Pray that I never see any one of you ever again. `
Everyone quietly watched Denrian storm out of the shrine, Flike just as
shocked as anyone else. Silence filled the room for the first time since
bodies started filling the sanctuary to hold a meeting which held
implications that were not still completely clear amidst All of the
dramatics. Nobody said a word.
`Well, that certainly was a bit much, wouldn't you say? ` Rhodian broke the
silence with a cavalier grin playing on his lips. Flike lowered his head a
little, trying to take in everything that just happened.
Writer: Jonathen
Date Fri Feb 14 07:32:40 2014
To Abaddon All rp
Subject Ole Man Darksong
Ole Man Darksong, what a terrible ring to it. Good thing Valdin's the
eldest and old as dirt. Still, there were a few things Jonah was unable to
resist about this new reality, not the lest of which was sitting out on the
balcony and playing darts with the 'guys'.
There was no man cave, so the balcony had to be sequestored, annexed into
the whims of a man with ten children whose upbringing was anything but
strict. Perks of being a skald though, any baby crying at night got a full
dose of song sleep. Little buggars.
Ainin tossed a dart and struct the center with a practiced aim that was by
now second nature. It wasn't really about the darts so much as it was about
spending time with friends. Always kept outside were two chairs that were
never sat in. One was for Halidais, and the other for Sereb. Friend that
were gone but never forgotten.
Frederick broke the man silence first," How is it again All ten survived to
maturity?"
Before he could answered Valdin chimmed in," You kidding? There were
fourteen," he said in a tone not entirely sarcastic.
Jonah smiled as Ainin put in his two silver," These are Darksongs, they will
-never- mature"
All Jonah could do was take a cigar from his humidor and light it. How he
raised ten children was more trail and error. Most of the boys and some of
the girls were smoking by the time they were fifteen. Nope, not going to
win any parenting awards.
Despite what one might think about growing up in Abaddon in a Fatale heavy
enviorment, the children were left to choose their level of devotion. There
was love too, the binds of family were as any would expect, strong and
loyal.
Jonah stood up as he saw one of his sons outside the front gate of the
house, making eyes at a Vai'Kel girl. From over the considerable distance
his voice rang out clear and loud.
"No! No! Bad Darksong! Those are off limits. Go find a pretty Aingar
woman!" For emphasis he chucked one of the darts in his son's direction.
"Don't even go there, I will throw you off your own balcony," warned Ainin.
Jonah smiled as innocently as he could manage to his old friend and without
promising anything, simply whistled as he walked towards the stairs," Better
go check on the little lady..."
"Jonah... JONAH! Get back here!" Shouted Ainin, following behind him
while Valdin and Frederick got a good laugh of it.
Writer: Amyth'lynn
Date Fri Feb 14 08:48:15 2014
Writer: Cassian
Date Fri Feb 14 11:52:08 2014
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Fri Feb 14 13:54:28 2014
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Knighthood Justice Nordmaar imm rp Scorn Nazca Maraisal Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Happy Little Trees" (Part 1)
"Explain to Ooof again, Oly," the ogre in the grey-pinstriped suit said
confusedly. "What we doin here exactly?"
Olybrius, Vice President of Distribution and Logistics, smiled patiently in
return. He understood that Ooof did not know the first thing about
horticulture. However, the ogre had expressed a wish to contribute to the
effort of finishing the tower and its grounds, and the elf could not deny,
Ooof's help would most definitely come in handy this day.
"We are blessed with an early spring. Today, my friend, we are going to
take those saplings over there, and replant them in the holes that we will
be digging." Oly gestured behind him, towards a pallet atop which perhaps
two dozen cutleaf maples, cypresses, and weeping cherries sat, each perhaps
eight to ten feet in height.
Ooof looked at the pallet skeptically. To the ogre in the grey-pinstriped
suit, All trees were simply trees. Some were simply bigger than others. He
returned his gaze to the wild elf.
"But Oly, trees just grow, right?"
Olybrius chuckled softly and explained further. "Well, if a seed were
planted, it would take quite some time before it would grow to the size of
those saplings over there. Also, the smaller the sapling, ther greater
chance of it being damaged. We don't have to worry about that so much after
a certain size. Plus, the tower will be finished this summer. It would be
nice if the landscape looked somewhat finished as well."
The ogre grunted in understanding. Smaller things break easier. Ooof was
in complete agreeance. "So. You get them trees from der forest?"
"No, these trees wouldn't do well in the forest. You see, these trees need
a lot of sun. In the forest, the taller trees would block most of that sun
out. Most of these saplings come from Ixi's property in Althainia. They
will thrive and be happy here."
A perplexed look appeared on Ooof's face at that last comment. "Happy...
Trees?"
"Why, sure!" Olybrius replied, "A tree is a living thing. Living things
are happy, when their needs are met. Granted, a tree cannot actually -tell-
us what it needs. But, they do have ways of communicating that while
subtle, are quite noticable with a little experience. I'd be happy to show
you."
Ooof pondered Oly's words for a moment. "Okies. Let's make some happy
little trees."
Writer: Diuxa
Date Sat Feb 15 18:16:44 2014
To Valthorgyn Crothus | Ightuirr'a Thrazgash Orc | Malachive Chaos RP All
Subject Reclaiming the Past: The Blood of Orcs
Her thumb passed over the runes etched into the side of the spear. A
spiraling design, voodoo in nature and bound by her own blood. The owl
feather dangled down beside the raven - wisdom and death, dark and light.
There were two sides to everything and three choices to make at any given
time.
Her pale eyes angled to study the design, locked in a realm of shifting
spirits and a history so mired in the mists of the past that it had All but
been destroyed.
Her long fingers tightened around the haft, an old fury rising to the
surface.
'Speak to me. Tell me of the great ones, the old ones.' A young, eager
voice. So innocent still, but she had been as well. Some of the children
had been allowed a short but sheltered time in the presence of elders and
parents and siblings as they grew in slavery.
Better they had not been, perhaps.
'The blood of the shaman, our Seers who lead beside the great chieftains,
runs in our blood.' The past whispered. 'It was told to me that it is in
the white hair, the markings, sometimes the eyes. They spoke with the
spirits of our honored, our warriors, our ancestors. They lead our people
with wisdom and portent, which tempered their fury when there was a need.'
Sweat had formed on her brow as she indulged the memories and a drop rolled
down her temple. Her hair, plaited and beaded, hung heavy around her face
in the humidity and she gazed down along the rocks before her. A
twenty-foot fall down a shoot of water into a turquoise pool below waited.
She didn't step forth though. She could feel the weight of the crozius
against her shoulder, its power writhing, causing the scars on her back to
respond in kind. The pain was cleansing.
'The blood of the warrior, often our chieftains and champions, were
supposedly defined by eyes that burned red with the lust for blood.
Powerful and frightening. They were war-minded, always seeking challenge.
Not always wise; they feared nothing but shame and shackles. It is
whispered that Cogu the Great descended from these battle-bred and contained
their very spirit.'
It went without saying that these two instances - shame and shackles - were
set upon the orcs nonetheless and they were forced to find different avenues
to rise above slavery. His eyes had widened though at the mention of Cogu
but she continued on.
'The blood of the sage, minded toward shadows and intellect, at times
defined by nothing more than their silence. Keen and no less possessed of
fury and power, simply more reserved in their doling out of it. One did not
challenge these orcs unless they grew eyes in the back of their skull. It
was said that Taye the Hunter could put arrows in your heart before you ever
knew he was there.'
'Can you grow eyes in the back of your skull?' Innocence, youth, humor. A
laughing smile. 'Verily! And extra arms as well, little brother.'
She closed her eyes and called to the latent power within, feeding it her
willingness, her soul and saw again the image that spoke so strongly to her.
The gathered shaman, the orc woman with impossibly long white hair, an owl
sitting her shoulder. They never spoke, but they never needed to. The
words were in their eyes; haunted, demanding and full of fury.
We must not fade. Remember us and carry us forth. Our return must shake
the world.
And so it would. The grim curving of her mouth promised terrible things and
her pale eyes - that had seen spirits - opened. She could sense her
brother. Her kin. Her mate. Her people.
Two. Only two in a world now full of orckind had any inkling of the
greatness that could again belong to the orcs. She shook her head slowly, a
short exhale escaping and the hollow beads and bones in her braids clacked.
She was patient. One learned patience as a slave and endured the pain,
embraced the agony, or one succumbed to weakness and died.
She stood upon the rock and turned away from the cooling promise of the
water, carrying with her the whispers - the demands - of the dead.
Writer: Kolfrosta
Date Tue Feb 18 04:08:25 2014
To All nordmaar ( imm rp )
Subject Preparing for an Attack
There was a sense of urgency in the streets of Nordmaar, and yet all
maintained the calm and purposeful sturdiness that its people were known
for. The threat of attack loomed over their heads like a dark cloud, so
that even common raptors high in the sky bore a second glance from more than
one. The city had already seen in its recent days the damage that could be
brought on by a single dragon. With former repairs only just finished, many
spirits seemed low, worry prevailed, and yet its citizens moved with a firm
resolve. There were few who were not ready to lay their lives down for
their home. For now, they prepared.
Kolfrosta Arnason moved amongst them, a small group of citizens at her
disposal. She had not expected to be assigned to heading the task when she
had suggested to the Minister that the palace cellars would make a good
location to protect children and the infirm. It had taken most of the day
to clear the vast cellars of its casks, most of its shelves and bottles.
The cellar walls were below ground and reinforced with stone. To be on the
cautious side, Kolfrosta had had men bring down wooden beams to brace
against various load-bearing points in the ceiling with the hope of giving
it extra reinforcement. The cellar was cool and dry, and covered with
enough earth that Kolfrosta didn't believe that a fire from outside could
damage it. She had it swept of its ages of dust and mopped, and brought
fresh thrushing to lay down upon the stone, mixed with medicinal herbs that
would aid with breathing.
He men and women worked together with a dedicated efficiency. Cots were
brought down into the cellars and lined along the walls. Stores of blankets
were stacked upon them, and crates of dry rations were stacked in one
corner. In another corner were more crates, these painted with the symbol
of a red cross. Inside were linen bandages, bottles of medicinal whiskey,
needkes and thread, and a wide variety of healing herbs.
Finally, she hung a crude symbol of Austinian upon the wall, and said a
blessing and a small prayer for the lives of her people.
Preparations were coming along. Kolfrosta gathered others to spread the
word that children and the infirm were to immediately come to this location
in the event of an attack. She asked each household to send one member to
report to her that this was understood. As they arrived one at a time, she
began a list of the names of any citizen who was a child or infirm, so that
all could be accounted for in the event that chaos befell them. She wished
no one left behind. She would be a dutiful shepherd.
As the day wore on, her thoughts turned to Gideon. She wondered where he
was, how he was doing. She hoped he was safe. Any other day, she would
have taken some time to mourn his absence. But this was not the day. There
was still more to be done.
Writer: Teroh
Date Tue Feb 18 04:43:16 2014
Writer: Gideon
Date Tue Feb 18 05:44:32 2014
To All Nordmaar
Subject A Cold Night
The cold gray granite of the mountain seemed to hunger for any warmth
left in Gideon. Everywhere he touched it he could feel the warmth seeping
from his body straight through his cold leather boots. What heat he was
able to hold in was quickly stolen by the frozen kiss of a hard northern
wind. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the steady wall of snow
that the wind carried off the mountains.
The air stung his lungs with every breath. Making it hard to breath. The
scent of pine filled the air. He was a northerner, a Highlander, his people
were known for their sturdiness and resitance to the cold temperatures of
the frozen north, but here, so close to the water, none of that mattered.
He had followed the southern coast till it turned into the western coast and
now made his way inland hoping to find some shelter for the night. Normally
he would be back in the Rose by this time. Laughing and gambling with
friends or, ideally, sharing the bed with his wife Kolfrosta.
The thought of her brought him some comfort but it wasn't enough to take his
mind off the chilling cold that was quickly seeping into his bones. If he
didn't find shelter soon, not only would he be a failure, but he might never
see Kolfrosta again. The thought spured him to carry on till he saw a break
in the rocks ahead that seemed to be a cave of some sort. It wasn't much
but it would keep back the wind and that was enough for now.
He sat on the cold stone floor, shivering as he attempted to gather the
materials from his pack that he had gathered earlier so he could start a
fire. His finger's weren't cooperating with how numb they were but
eventually a flame caught life in the tinder and he soaked in it's meager
warmth.
His mind went to dark places as he sat in the cave with nothing to do but
travel the roads his mind chose to lead him on as he waited for sleep.
Right now Kolfrosta would be safe at home in Nordmaar. Probably helping
prepare for the coming attack with the others. He wanted nothing more than
to be with her but he had his orders... And it was only another few days...
As he sat their with his back against the cold stone wall, slowly gathering
what heat he could, he did what skalds do. He sang...
O frozen mountain. Give meh shelter from the storm. Keep back yer chillin
touch en let meh find some warmth. Ah kno tha yue are hungrae. Seekin mah
warmth, mah blood, mah soul. Wantin nothin more than tae see meh swallowed
whole. Buh Ah've got ah secret weapon tha Ah'll hold fer All mah life. The
thought o her gives meh strength. The thought o mah lovelae wife...
Writer: Megan
Date Tue Feb 18 14:54:33 2014
To All Nordmaar Devlin Cassian Jaidyn ( imm RP )
Subject Dragon's Ire - Preparing
The events of the evening before had lit a fire in the hearts of every
man, woman, and child within the highlands. The city of Nordmaar was on
high alert. The threats of the wyrm left but a few days before the promised
assault. Those who had only just begun feeling safe after the rampage of
the silver now again braved the streets in caution, none trusting the word
of the chromatic on the timing of his assault. Yet there was work to be
done and despite the sense of dread, the people set to it heartily.
Dawn came slowly, dispelling the cover of night's darkness with rays
painfully bright to the eyes of the men and women who toiled below and
warily watched the skies above, as if more time had passed than the single
night spent preparing. Unlike the calm that greeted most days, the city was
a chaos of noise and life. Soldiers rushed about their duties, gathering
weapons and armor, stocking bunkers and applying wet coverings to roof tops
most vulnerable to fire. Healers worked to make pastes that would be used
to treat burns from acid and flame.
Despite the hour, the people worked together as they always did. None
complained, though weariness could already be seen in the weathered faces
below. Threats were not a new part of life for those who made home on the
coldest continent of Algoron. The Nordmaarians were a strong, proud people
dedicated to one another and their homes. Kinship.
The city was blanketed now. A layer of damp material had been settled over
the Valhalla and the Black Rose. Similar hides covered the stables and the
thatched tops of houses within the village.
From her place in the crow's nest of the Drochnathair, the last ship to be
tended, Megan studied the ship below as sailors hurried to cover the final
patches of bared wood on the deck with thick hides soaked through with ocean
water. It wasn't much, but the moisture rich material would provide some
protection to the ship itself. They would be continuously doused to keep
them sodden. It was still going to be one hell of a mess to clean when the
time came.
Her eyes turned to scan the other ships lining the harbor before lifting to
the sky as she pondered the words of the black written upon the Minister's
missive in her pocket. The threat was foremost in her mind ".. Your people
will now be hunted to extinction by the ancients.. "
"Not bloodae likely. " Megan snorted, the sound of her voice heard by none
but the wind.
The sky was clear of All but clouds that promised snow. All eyes watched
the horizon, waiting.
Writer: Gimbur
Date Tue Feb 18 18:26:53 2014
Writer: Amerissa
Date Tue Feb 18 19:58:45 2014
Writer: Phadynos
Date Tue Feb 18 21:59:47 2014
Writer: Irdoya
Date Wed Feb 19 05:56:57 2014
Writer: Gideon
Date Wed Feb 19 17:05:46 2014
To Nordmaar All Kolfrosta
Subject A Longing Heart
Gideon stood at a distance and out of site. The Gate's of Nordmaar, his
home, stood within view. Tall and foreboding yet offering a sense of
comfort that brought a longing to Gideon's heart. He knew that somewhere on
the other side of those walls his wife was working. Practicing her sewing
or else helping the people prepare for the on coming attack. So close and
yet so far away.
He was due to return home the day the Dragon was supposed to attack. Until
then he was to have no contact with anyone in the city. His wife included.
He could speak with the General, Advisor, and the Minister but the one voice
he longed to hear was kept silent by orders.
A single thought plagued his mind, like a pox he could not rid himself of.
Scratching at him constantly. He could find things to take his mind of it
for a time but it always returned. Like the vengeful ghost of someone he
had wronged in their life.
What if he returned to Nordmaar only to find the dragon attacking and
Kolfrosta was dead? When did he last get to tell her how much he loved her?
It had been over a week since he had been allowed comfort from her because
of Hell Week. The first week of his officer training had been brutal but
now it almost seemed cruel...
He had no idea this mission would come and prolong his Hell week and that on
the first day out of the city that blasted Black beast would suddenly choose
NOW to attack... If he lost Kolfrosta only one thing was certain.
He would kill the Black or die trying.
Writer: Sinsari
Date Sat Feb 22 02:03:15 2014
To All Verminasia Immortal Marcaus Ashtiel Vincent
Subject Identity
"Please, don't go..."
A tiny version of Sinsari stood before her. She was she had been when she
was merely five or six years of age, full of innocence and the vitality of
life that children so often had. Her younger self clutched a stuffed, plush
teddy bear, something that Sinsari had never owned in her life until
recently.
Sinsari understood so much more of herself now. She had been broken,
shattered by years of abuse from her uncle while growing up. She'd become a
woman of pure ego. Her ego had driven her from Abaddon, gotten her captured
and enslaved in Verminasia, and, ultimately, was shattered by a will much
stronger than her own.
Vincent was a man of sheer dominance. He willed the world to shape itself
around him the way he wanted it to be. Even if things did not go according
to plan, he managed to adapt without the appearance of lowering himself to
do so.
By contrast, Sinsari had failed at adapting. She had not changed, she could
not bend, so she had broken.
Only by the magic of Lovedaia, Advisor to the king and a mentalist by trade,
has Sinsari's mind been restored. But now that it had been restored, she
was in a strange place. She alone stood an empty entity amidst a swirling
cacaphony of her former self. She saw the child in her, one of the largest
pieces remaining. She'd closed it off, never really grown up, and so it
remained there, growing, never satisfied, it had been eager to jump into the
forefront of her mind when she'd broken.
There was the emotionally distant, "haughty" self of her ego, pure steel:
cold and detached, rude and unbending. It had been shattered, but remained
there, sulking in a corner.
Then there was her faith, a version of her covered in blood that stood some
distance away from the rest. Sinsari shivered as she looked upon the visage
of her faith. There was a crazed, maniacal smile on the woman. It felt as
if there was something intensely wrong with her, and yet, that 'her' was a
part of Sinsari.
She was composed of so many disparate pieces, so many parts that didn't seem
to fit together. The end result was a woman that Countess Ashtiel Kayen had
described as "broken", only a breath away from "pathetic". Even distanced
from that moment as she was, Sinsari felt a pang of intense loathing for
herself because of it. Ashtiel Kayen was a woman to admire, to look up to,
but she wouldn't even spare a glance or thought for Sinsari, so low had the
Ariel fallen.
She remembered felling Phonivia, fighting for the Hordes of the Dungeon.
But now what was she? What remained of that woman who had been a murderess?
She was an empty shell, bereft of identity or purpose, a drifting soul.
Was she the child? The witch? The crazy woman?
Of the three of them, the child was the only one who seemed to reach out to
her. However, she was a woman, not a child, she could no more embrace her
neglected past than she could accept any of the other broken shards of the
woman she had once been.
She was lost.
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Sat Feb 22 16:45:12 2014
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Knighthood Justice Nordmaar imm rp Scorn Nazca Maraisal Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Happy Little Trees" (Part Two: Interlude)
Thimtax breathed in the cool, morning air deeply, as he crested the top
of the brand new stairwell, onto what was soon to become the 65th floor of
the Ixi-Mart Tower. At this point, the 65th floor was little more than the
roof of the 64th floor, with the exception of the first course of huge,
quartz blocks already laid into place, creating a wall two feet high around
the perimeter.
Work on the 65th floor began early this cool, overcast morning. However,
Thimtax was consulting with contractors and going over interior
specifications for the first part of it. The mundane work done, Thimtax
happily returned to the top of the tower. With a little luck, he and his
crew could have the floor finished in just one more day.
The hard-hat wearing gnome let his satchel drop to the ground beneath him.
He casually pulled out a small paper bag from the satchel, and from that, he
produced a sandwich worthy of a king. He peeled away the paper wrapping,
and took a bite as he watched the crane, as it pulled the next block up the
nearly 700 foot height of the tower. However, once the huge, interlocking
quartz block finally broke the plane of the 65th floor, a frown grew upon
Thimtax's face. He swiftly made his way to the crew leader, who was
standing just in front of the block.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Thimtax shouted agitatedly. "We've got the wrong block,
Crillow!"
"Whatdya mean, we've got the wrong block!?" Crillow fired back.
Thimtax placed his sandwich down on the first course of blocks and pointed.
"Look! Right there. On the top-right corner!"
Crillow strained to read the lot number written with red chalk. Smirking,
he turned back to Thimtax.
"What? It looks right to me."
Thimtax rubbed his temples and began again. "The lot number clearly says
66/213b. It's supposed to be 65/213b."
Krillow shrugged. "Looks like a 5 to me."
"It looks like a fi---" the hard-hat wearing gnome sputtered in frustration.
"Well, it's not a five. Alright, let's put this block back down again.
It'll be a good hour before we have the right one--"
-S N A P- !!!
The tether on the crane snapped clean, and the block dropped from view. It
was gone. Returning to the earth, from whence it came.
"The block!!!" Thimtax wailed. He instinctively lunged forward to the
wall where the block once hovered, hands outreached, as if he could save the
situation. In doing so, the hard-hat wearing gnome knocked his sandwich off
the wall, joining the unfortunate block in flight.
"MY LUNCH!!!"
Writer: Rikam
Date Mon Feb 24 11:14:42 2014
Writer: Rikam
Date Mon Feb 24 11:17:24 2014
Writer: Shaw'a
Date Mon Feb 24 15:07:06 2014
Writer: Valanthiriel
Date Mon Feb 24 19:44:26 2014
Writer: Valanthiriel
Date Mon Feb 24 19:44:32 2014
Writer: Valanthiriel
Date Mon Feb 24 19:44:38 2014
Writer: Nierwyld
Date Tue Feb 25 07:53:02 2014
To Justice All Imm Storyline RP
Subject The Story of Captain Nierwyld J. Foxrun : I
Nierwyld concentrated hard, his eyes tightly closed as he imagined the
little bolt forming from his fingers and shooting out into the air towards
the test dummy . He concentrated harder and could feel the magic forming,
could feel it taking shape. With a delighted yelp he opened his eyes and
waggled his fingers towards the dummy like he was told... And blasted a
small hole under his instructors feet.
The laughter of the entire class range out through the trees as Nierwyld's
face darkened. His fists balled up tighter as the jeers and taunts
continued, the instructor going as far as to turn his back on the whole
class. Tears falling down his cheeks, Nierwyld flit out of the classroom
and out into the jungle.
As fast as he could go, he tried to out run the jeering, but it seemed even
the parrots and monkies had picked it up. With an angry yell he pulled the
little pouch from his belt and whirled around, flinging it into the jungle.
The dust exploded into a giant ball of fire, each spark that hit exploding
as well. His eyes got big as he watched the splosions dwindled down. He
had never had that one happen before. It wasn't long however that his
thoughts turned from his random dust explosion, and turned back onto his
magical ineptitude. Sitting on a branch high up in the tree he lost himself
in his thoughts of grandeur as a magician.
So into his own thoughts was he that he didn't notice the party of orcs
below him, looking for the cause of the explosion. Nor did he see the
ruffle of feathers from the lone ariel that slowly broke from his
camoflauge.
Writer: Gimbur
Date Tue Feb 25 19:44:21 2014
To All Wargar
Subject Gimbur's First Rage
Gimbur lay on his back, in a shallow fountain of whiskey, his head
resting on the fountain wall, and the large, bulbous mound of his belly
rising up out of the sweet liquid. A marble statue of a nude dwarvish lass
stood in the middle of the fountain. The statue held a broken keg high
above her head, the whiskey pouring out of the keg and splashing down on the
fat dwarf's belly, running back down into the fountain.
Gimbur drank greedily from the fountain and sighed in contentment. The six
dwarven servant girls giggled drunkenly and Gimbur grinned up at them. The
fattest, hairiest dwarf lass that Gimbur had ever seen grinned through her
flowing beard, and sauntered over to him. In one hand she held a mug of
Thaxanosian Ale, and the other held a three pound turkey leg, butter-roasted
to perfection. She waved the drumstick in front of his face, and the savory
aroma prompted him to drool into his beard. Gimbur reached for the
drumstick, and his hand passed through it, as if it were no more substantial
than a mirage. He frowned, growled, and tried again. The image of the
drumstick dissipated. The sound of trickling whiskey and giggling servant
girls faded and was replaced with shouts and fighting. Gimbur was airborn,
briefly, as he fell from the pew he was sleeping on, and landed on the hard
stone below.
He hit the floor hard on his left side, his fat midsection cushioning the
blow to his middle, and causing his head to snap to the left, hitting the
stone high on his left cheek. His tongue was mashed between his teeth as
his jaw clamped shut. He bellowed in shock and pain as he tried to make
sense of his surroundings.
A flash of black was All that Gimbur saw as a hooded figure sprinted out of
the pantheon into the tunnels of Wargar. The being was chased by three
angry dwarves, led by a bleeding Fardoc.
"Tha hell? " he muttered, slurring his words around his wounded tongue. He
tried again, yelling loudly, wincing at the pain. "WOT THA HELL BAE GOIN
ON?!? "
"Somethin got inta our hall an' tried ta kill Fardoc! " came a reply.
A wrinkle appeared in Gimbur's forehead. An interloper... In our hall?
He thought, beginning to get angry. His face turning red, he jumped up,
ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit him when he stood, then ran north
towards the tavern, hoping he could head of the tresspasser.
His instinct was correct. He came barreling through the doorway as the
creature ran from the circular hallway, at the other end of the bar. The
cloaked figure was too busy watching behind him as he fled from the trio
that chased him. It stumbled across a a barstool, and angrily grabbed at it
and began to fling it out of the way. One leg of the barstool knocked a
nearly-full pitcher of Thaxanosian ale on the floor.
"Yer gonna pay fer that! " Gimbur shouted at the creature, who whirled
around and glared at the dwarf. Standing there, face to face, Gimbur was as
close to the creature as any other dwarf of Wargar had been. Although their
faces were inches apart, he could make nothing of the features, other than
the hood of the cloak. Its eyes were devoid of any color at All and seemed
to grow and shrink with each breath. The nose seemed to be in motion as it
bled into the rest of its face. And the stench. It was like being locked
inside a sealed cave full of the rotting corpses of a hundred disemboweled
goblins.
The creature began to hiss.
-=-(TO BE CONTINUED)-=-
Writer: Gimbur
Date Tue Feb 25 19:53:47 2014
To All Wargar
Subject Gimbur's First Rage (part two)
The creature began to hiss.
Gimbur thought of a kettle he had seen at a gnomish laboratory. It had been
copper, and roughly the size of a house, resting atop a huge bonfire. The
kettle had copper pipes tracing its perimeter, and many valves and gauges.
Gimbur had seen one of these pipes break, and steam issued from it with such
velocity that the dwarf was forced to his knees, hands covering his ears due
to the hissing sound. The angry hiss of the cloaked figure was not quite
that loud, but it was a near thing.
Gimbur grabbed the thing by its left armpit and issued an open-palmed
uppercut to its throat. The creature uttered a half-choked phrase in a
language Gimbur didn't understand and the dwarf was blasted with hot acid.
A proper fight ensued, and within half a minute, an the barroom looked like
the aftermath of an explosion. Fardoc was hit by flying debris and growled
at the hooded figure. Gimbur glanced over at the Thane, and the creature
took advantage of his distraction, sweeping Gimbur's legs out from under him
with a monosyllabic word in some grotesque, reedy tongue.
Gimbur saw stars as the back of his head bounced off the solid granite bar,
and he fell to the floor, on his back. His face transformed from an angry
frown to the snarl of a bear whose cub has been threatened. His arm shot
out and closed around a bony leg. Time seemed to slow down.
The situation didn't allow for introspection, but if it had, he would have
said it was like a curtain being lowered over his vision. The bar, the
terrified barmaid, the lamps, the floor, the walls, All ceased to exist.
The curtain of rage obscured the unimportant details from his mind.
Everything that mattered now stood out in exquisite detail. Gimbur saw- but
did not hear- the creature that had attacked his Thane. He saw the hate and
the growing fear in the eyes of the interloper. He saw Fardoc, his lips
pulled back in a sneer, and his dagger drawn over his head. He saw dozens
of potential weapons around him. Chairs, pewter beer steins, splintered
table legs, and inexplicably, the bronze arm of a broken statue that Gimbur
did not recognise. All this he took in within the fraction of a second
after he landed on the stone floor.
Gimbur bellowed something even he didn't understand and yanked downward on
the bony leg, bouncing the creature off the floor. He jumped up and tried
to land on the interloper's chest, but the creature rolled out of the way,
still gasping for breath. Gimbur landed on his knees and the thing smacked
him across the back with the same short staff he attacked Fardoc with. The
dwarf growled and twisted around, grabbing the staff with both hands. He
used it to pull the creature toward him as he lowered his head and bashed
the interloper in the face with his forehead. The creature fell backward in
a daze. Before it could blink, Gimbur grabbed a nearby stein and brought it
down with All his force on the interloper's head, caving its skull and
spilling blood and brains out onto the floor. Gimbur jumped to his feet and
bellowed unintelligibly before charging out of the tavern in search of
another target.
THE END
Writer: Gurfing
Date Tue Feb 25 23:01:07 2014
To All Pirates ( Imm Rp )
Subject A New Captain Emerges: Part I
Green knuckles, nearly white from strain, grasped the railing of the
ship being thrashed by the storm. The hobgoblin could hear the constant
complaints of his mates as they passed, All of them cursing their Captain
for forcing them into the storm now raging All around them. The hobgoblin
had advised the Captain against sailing out, as All the signs that a storm
was breweing had been there, but his words went unheeded.
'We're All going to end up in a watery grave! What was he thinking bringing
us out here? ' one sailor said to another.
'Well, maybe Kwainin will watch over us, and bring us safely home, but I'm
starting to have my doubts. ' the other replied.
The hobgoblin knew the two sailors had made a mistake when he heard the
distinctive 'clunk' of wood on wood. He didn't have to look to know the
Captain had overheard and was making his way towards the two upset
deckhands.
'So, ye two scallywags think ye know how to navigate better than me, do ya?
' called the Captain, only his outline visible in the dim lighting.
'Uh... N-n-no sir! Y-you must have m-miss heard w-what I w-was saying! '
stammered the first man.
The Captain laughed, replying'Well, I don't think I did! So, let's see if
the two of ya can navigate yer way back to land... Without the use of my
ship! '
The Captain grabbed the nearest of the men by the throat, preparing to
launch him into the rolling sea, when something happened that the hobgoblin
never expected.
'Ye can be lettin' the man go. I'll not see 'im punished for sayin' what we
all be thinkin'. '
The Captain froze in his tracks, his gaze slowly falling onto the one who
had just spoken, rage building behind his eyes. It took the hobgoblin a
moment to realize that it was he who had spoken up, and was already turning
to face the gargantuan man before him.
'I've never had a problem with ye before, goblin. Ye be my best hand, and
I'd hate to lose ye, but ye speak out of turn like that again, and ye'll
join these two on the bottom of the ocean! ' bellowed the Captain.
The hobgoblin felt himself moving, but didn't really remember telling his
body to do so. He strode into the path of the Captain, who had resumed his
stride toward the railing, the sailor still in his grasp. He planted
himself firmly in front of the Captain and slowly drew his cutlass from it's
sheath.
'I tell ye what, Captain. Ye can be lettin' him go, and ye can also be
lettin' go of yer ship. Ye don't deserve to call yourself Captain, and I'll
be lucky if even I can bring these lads home. '
'Boy, ye best rethink what yer doin'! This is my ship, and no one is going
to tell me what I will or will not do! '
The hobgoblin leaped onto the railing, turning to face All those now
assembled on the deck. A bolt of lightning flashed behind him, casting an
eerie lighting to his features. With one hand he grasped the mainstay and
with the other he rasied his cutlass to the Gods, All the while staring down
the Captain.
With a snarl, the hobgoblin raised his gaze to the seamen on deck and
yelled, 'I, Gurfing Malevol, Scourge of the Seven Seas, call for a mutiny
against this so-called Captain! '
Writer: Ixi'kweez
Date Wed Feb 26 09:20:20 2014
To All Althainia Arkane Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Knighthood Justice Nordmaar imm rp Scorn Nazca Maraisal Austinian Zandreya
Subject Raising The Tower "Happy Little Trees" (Part Three: Conclusion)
"Alrighty. The hole is the perfect depth. Nice job." Olybrius said,
as he gently placed the sapling magnolia's root ball into the newly dug
hole. "Now. I'll hold her straight, while you fill the hole back in.
Then, we'll pound a couple stakes into the ground around the hole, and
secure the tree with wire. In a couple months or so, we can come back and
remove the supports."
Ooof grunted quietly as he began to backfill the hole, taking great care not
to disturb the young magnolia in the process. He frowned a bit as he looked
the sapling up and down.
"Der tree looks droopy. Ooof do somethin wrong?"
The wild-elf turned to Ooof, as he began to hammer in the first support
stake. "No, not at all, my friend. You see, digging a sapling out of the
ground and replanting it somewhere else, is a stressful event for the plant.
When this happens, you'll see that the leaves will droop, just like you
said. But, we're doing just fine. Let's finish up stringing her up to the
supports, and then we'll water the hole heartily. This will help the
sapling recover quickly."
Ooof grunted once again, grabbing a large metal bucket full of rainwater.
When Olybrius gave him a nod, Ooof slowly spilled the bucket's contents
evenly over the newly disturbed soil. The two boards members stepped back
several yards, and surveyed their work.
"Okay. That's that. Now, if you come back in a day or so, you'll see that
our magnolia here will have perked up quite a bit. This is an ideal spot
for it. She likes a lot of sun, but not total sun. We've planted her
pretty close to the tower, on the southern side. That way, the tower won't
block the sun much of the year. Now, in about six to eight weeks, our
magnolia here, and others like it, will produce beautiful large white and
purple flowers. Once those fall, perhaps two weeks later, our tree will
begin to fill out and grow."
A pleasant, and for the most part, toothless smile grew on the ogre in the
grey-pinstriped suit's face. He felt like he did some good today, and he
was finding the idea of making happy little trees very palatable. Perhaps,
he had found himself a new hobby.
"You know, Oly." The ogre mused out loud, "This nice. Ooof like this.
Ixi-Mart happy. Tree happy. Ooof happy. This gud day."
--BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! --
An immense wall of mud and dirt washed over the board members, knocking them
both off their feet. The two struggled to extricate themselves from the
muddy mess. The ogre in the grey-pinstriped, and now mud-covered suit,
quickly sprang to his feet and wiped the mud from his face, facing the
tower.
"AWWW!!!!! AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!"
The sapling was gone. The supports were gone. Even the hole was gone. In
its place, a much larger hole. Just below ground level, the gleaming
surface of an enormous, interlocking quartz block shone brightly. He wailed
in anguish, looking up to the sky.
-S-P-L-A-T-
If Ooof wasn't upset before, the sandwich falling from the sky, hitting him
full in the face, was more than enough to put him over the edge.
"AAAAAARRRGGHHHHH!!! Mez can't take der stress of plantin!!! Poor little
tree.... Ooof take personal day!! Mebbe get grief counselin!" With that,
the mud-covered ogre in the grey-pinstriped suit stormed out of the
courtyard and into Mart-Town, where he would most assuredly scare some of
the residents.
The wild-elf, only now finding his way to his feet, watched Ooof hastily
leave, and looked at the hole, sighing.
"Well. I might as well get started on the next one..."
Writer: Corszana
Date Wed Feb 26 14:29:42 2014
To All immortal scorn
Subject Alas, All good things must end
It had been a well-lived life.
She d never been as well-known as some Firstborne. But she had never been
like them to begin with. Kaikias had been his own, with talents and
knowledge she simply did not have.
Corszana, Kerrisacza, she had played the role of support from the very
beginning. Supporting Roisheen and Branzol and All of Kaikias' children.
She supported Gwendalen, even providing the woman a final resting place in
her own home. She had supported other Firstborne, younger ones, giving them
a home and what advice she could. She had done All that she could to make
Algoron a better place than the world she found herself born into.
Her son had become an Emperor. And though they'd not had their last
conversation on positive terms, she'd always been proud of how much he'd
given to the Empire. He was married to a wonderful woman, and she trusted
they would continue the family and extend the Snowdragon name.
Her husband was Executor of the Wrath. For All that he had been through, he
had always overcome. Even now, as the darkness of the void crept close
around her, her love for him filled her with unsurpassing warmth.
"Branzol... " She whispered to the world that closed in around her. He
would do well, he always had.
Kailyri, Nyaira, Syora, Rhaelor. Wakeful or not, she had given Algoron
individuals capable of far more impact than she ever could have had. She
was proud of and loved All of them dearly, including the newest, the one
whom she was too tired now to name. He would find his place in this world,
without her, but she trusted he would do well.
Her life was not without errors or failures. Nadrik was still trapped on
the Black Moon, she could barely forgive herself for not doing more.
However, in the end, she trusted the other races to do what they would.
There were great ones maong them, individuals who would rise to the
occasion.
All good things had to end. Her end had come.
Writer: Kailyri
Date Wed Feb 26 14:47:58 2014
To All Branzol Kahlyn Catalyn Rhaelor Nyaira Syora ( Immortal Taliena Nadrik Kantilles )
Subject The Passing of Kerrisacza, Orchid of Nadrik
The Great Silver looked weary as Kailyri climbed into the roost, molten
silver eyes holding a dimmer light than normal. Immediately, the young
woman, born of Branzol and Kerrisacza, sensed something was not right. Her
mother had never looked so weary, or as if each motion was a struggle. Even
so, her beauty and her kind heart was reflected in ever subtle shift.
The two spoke for some time and soon Kailyri began to cry. At times the
tears came slowly, or in full force, blinding her to the Silver creature in
front of her, imparting gentle and comforting touches. She listened to the
last wishes as she took into her arms All that was being left to impart
amongst the family members, and gave her vows to carry out these final acts
and desires. All the while, she choked on hot tears and felt as if the
world was pressing in on her chest and shoulders.
When the last was said, and stored carefully away, the daughter followed her
mother down into the depths of the lair. While one moved with the care and
pains of age, the other followed with the grace and elegance of youth, but
both held themselves with the regality of their blood, their station, their
birthrights. All too soon, they reached the depths of the lair, the warm
air of the magical greenhouse enveloping them. With care, Kerrisacza's
human form, taken with much effort, settled beneath the tallest tree within
the garden, resting against it.
Kerrisacza's labor pains were strong and powerful, the practice of bringing
forth life to many children serving her well. Though it took much of what
little reserves she had, the Lady gave one final, great cry and Kailyri
recieved her younger brother into a warm, gentle swaddling cloth. Her hands
performed the motions of removing the cord and bringing forth the first
cries with care. She was shocked to note that despite her tumultuous
emotions her hands were steady.
"Let me see him, " her mother begged.
Kailyri helped her mother to hold her newborn younger brother, her tears
returning as her mother spoke her final words.
"I love you all. "
With that, the gentle, beautiful woman closed her eyes and exhaled her final
breath. The small boy, yet to be given a name, which would fall to his
father, began to wail loudly as if sensing the passing of such a resplendant
spirit.
Picking up her younger brother, Kailyri tidied her mother's form and backed
away, watching with tear-filled eyes as the body of the one whom had given
so much faded slowly away into the Ether.
Writer: Vitriosablet
Date Wed Feb 26 20:08:43 2014
To All Nordmaar Gideon Dragon Imm
Subject The Highland Village
Vitriosablet flew through the darkness of the night's sky roaring with
anger. The Humans of Icewall had offended him by sending their Royal
Princes to Greystoke to learn the ways of the dragonslayer.
"These lands are mine. Could the Humans be so foolish to believe I would
accept this act against me? Others have humiliated themselves through
association with the dragonslayers, but not me. I will not be humiliated.
Greystoke will not be permitted to have influence upon my island."
Vitriosablet watched the Humans from afar as they prepared the walls of
their Capital to defend against his retribution.
"The time will come when the walls of Nordmaar will be brought to the
ground."
Vitriosablet flew northwest of the Nordmaarian Capital as the sun started to
rise. He was hungry for food and it was too convenient that he was coming
up on a small highland, farming village.
As the sun broke through the skies shining light upon the village,
Vitriosablet swooped down upon the waking highlanders. He tore through the
first home with claws and left the neighbouring home in ruin with a single
thrash of his tail, before landing on the main road.
Shrieks of terror could be heard throughout the village. Some tried to run,
while others stood motionless. All felt the waves of dragon fear. With
roaring rage, Vitriosablet tore down each house, slaying each Human in sight
and feasting on the highlander corpses.
In just moments, the village seemed lifeless. Vitriosablet loomed over the
highland village roaring loudly towards the mountains and then saw a single
Human girl. She was lying on the main road, holding tightly a stuffed bear,
whimpering.
"A sole survivor. I will be most generous today. I will gift you today
with life. You will pass my message to Nordmaar that the MacCallums will be
wiped from the history books for their act against Dragonkind."
It was then that Vitriosablet's keen sight caught slight movement half way
up one the surrounding mountains. A Human figure stood with view of the
spectacle.
"A Pity. It seems my message will reach Nordmaar without you. You are no
longer of use."
Vitriosablet hovered his massive claw over the small girl. Then, with an
evil grin, stamped the girl into the ground.
Writer: Tahereh
Date Thu Feb 27 17:03:10 2014
To Nordmaar All Dragon Imm Vitriosablet
Subject The Highland Village (storyline)
Patrolling had become natural for those of Nordmaar, especially while on
high alert. She had promised to not ever go alone, so she called forth one
of her elements and took to the path of her normal patrol. Through Dalriada
Village and then up along the path to the farming village to the north. As
the path opened up, Tahereh stood there as stiff as a statue in horror of
what she had stumbled upon.
It appeared as if some tornado had ripped through, but worse, the claw marks
left about and impressions of what was an obvious tail of something brought
the reality of what it was she saw. The village was in total ruin, death
filled the air. Half eaten bodies crushed ones and those that had been
simply killed by the massive tail sending them flying into different
objects.
Moving with care through the carnage hoping to find some form of life, the
young priestess did her best to keep up the faade that she was not afraid.
Was the beast nearby, was it gone? She had no idea but there was work to be
done and she could not do it alone. Bending down she picked up a crushed
teddy bear that lay within the huge footprint of a beast, what else laid
near it was no longer identifiable. Pulling the small toy close she could
assess one thing. It was not Yinn.
Quickly Tahereh set her elemental into guarding the rubble and she took off
on a full sprint back home, out of breath she pushed the gates opened and
searched for the Minister, the General, the Queen or someone she could
report to what she had found. This was news she did not wish to break to
her leadership, but there in that rubble, were families of Nordmaar.
Writer: Kahlyn
Date Thu Feb 27 23:24:12 2014
Writer: Devlin
Date Fri Feb 28 05:06:43 2014
To Nordmaar All Dragon Vitriosablet ( RP IMM )
Subject The Highland Village (storyline)
Devlin clutched a letter in his hand, the sound of crushed paper echoing
throughout the study inside Greystoke. The words on the paper struck home,
"The Threat of the Black came true."
Silence....
After what seemed like an eternity, Devlin came back to his senses. No
longer playing the brutal attack over and over again in his mind. At first
his resolve was weak, as though he was broken by the news he received, but
as silence echoed on he was able to gather his will once more. His eyes
darted across the texts on the table, stories and testaments of the
victories of the past, combined with tactics and strategies for hunting the
Firstborne. A heavy guilt wore on his features, as his thoughts drifted
towards those who have lost their lives to the dragons. Those nine lost in
the attack by the Silver Orchid of Nadrik, Kerrisacza... The village lost
to what is assumed to be the black, Vitriosablet.
The decision to enter the manor weighed heavily on Devlin, as he was sure
was the same with Cassian. At first he had joined the manor with his
brother, because he realized after the first attack that Nordmaar was unable
to defend themselves properly against another such attack. Time marched on,
and more reasons sprung up on precisely why this sort of training was
necessary.. The actions of the black further proving the need for such a
defense. He understood the reasoning behind the black's motives... Fear.
Writer: Thaydius
Date Fri Feb 28 07:52:39 2014
To Nordmaar Dragon All ( Imm Religion Siccara )
Subject The Highland Village ( Aftermath )
It had started.
Thaydius looked on at the ruins and came down to the cold ground with his
frigid feet, sighing a long gust of frosty air. He had tried to warn the
people of Nordmaar of what would come if they provoked the firstborn by
associating with the Manor. The stories of what the Silver had done lacked
the detail that Silvers were averse to violence and the outburst was
comparitively a sneeze. Metallics, by their very nature, would not bring
harm and ruin upon people. Now, they would see firstborn that could and
would bring destruction.
That anything stood at All in the wreckage told him something that it
probably didn't tell the humans that would survey it before and after his
arrival. This was fun to a Chromatic. If it had been business, the earth
would've been reduced to nothing. The water would be ruined. The food
would be poisoned. He couldn't convince mortals that dragons were
extensions of the moons themselves. Their pride and their sensibilities
transformed dragons into opponents that could be overcome. The Slayers had
fed those lies to Algoron at large. And now, the innocent would pay for
that illusion.
He had seen firsthand the ineffective philosophy and execution of the
Slayers. It was an organization built on lies. The Chromatics were
servants of the Black Moon. If they turned their ire on the people of
Nordmaar, then the Black Moon itself would point at these people. Their
suffering would entertain his Great Uncle. The spectacle of their death and
destruction could go on for generations. Two slayers couldn't stop that.
The whole sum of the Slayers couldn't stop that. Even he was unable to
stand against the firstborn. And if he did, on the sheer justification that
it was the right thing to do, he might draw the Black Moon's attention. If
that happened, the only thing that would bring him through such an ordeal
would be the personal protection of his family.
Maybe he had been meditating on his Aunt too much in recent times, but he
looked on at the carnage and slumped down onto his knees. This excess of
death and suffering became very real and personal. His enormous shield and
lance met the dirt before he brought his glowing hands to his face. And he
wept.
Writer: Syrlarrialth
Date Fri Feb 28 07:58:09 2014
Writer: Syrlarrialth
Date Fri Feb 28 08:31:11 2014
Writer: Megan
Date Fri Feb 28 19:22:55 2014
Writer: Kyan
Date Fri Feb 28 20:29:31 2014
Writer: Kyan
Date Fri Feb 28 20:33:03 2014
Writer: Vylanthria
Date Sat Mar 1 09:21:19 2014
Writer: Jonathen
Date Sat Mar 1 15:19:31 2014
Writer: Gurfing
Date Mon Mar 3 17:48:23 2014
To All Pirates ( Imm RP )
Subject A New Captain Emerges: Part II
Gurfing leaped from the railing, bringing his cutlass down in an overhead
slash towards the Captain's neck. The Captain was prepared, however, and
easily parried the blow while delivering a devastating punch to the side of
Gurfing's head, causing him to roll several feet away. Gurfing wiped blood
from his lip as he rose from the deck, and again charged the Captain.
Dodging to the right, he spit into the eyes of the Captain and slashed at
his kneecaps. The Captain, being accustomed to dirty fighting, drew his
whip and lashed about wildly, forcing Gurfing to retreat.
'Ye'll have to do better than that, Goblin! ' cried the Captain, still
flailing his whip.
A shock ran through Gurfing as the tip of the whip sliced through the flesh
on his cheek, leaving a bright crimson line in it's wake. Knowing he had to
disable the Captain in order to win this fight, Gurfing again sought to
hamstring him. He again maneuvered to the side of the Captain, but before
he could even prepare to strike, a deafening roar filled his ears. A large
club struck him in the head, sending him sprawling back onto the deck,
dazed.
'I tried to yell ye, lad. Now ye have to die. ' said the Captain, wiping
the spittle from his eyes and slowly approaching the disabled hobgoblin.
Gurfing knew his time had come to an end, and was gathering his thoughts as
he sent his prayers to Raije, asking forgiveness for his failures. The
Captain slowly stalked to Gurfing, a smirk on his face, and raised his club
over his head. Just then, Gurfing's fingers alit upon something hard and
metal. It took him but a second to realize what it was and more out of
instinct than anything, he raised the pistol and fired.
Had he taken the time to aim, the fight would have ended then, but the shot
struck the Captain's kneecap, causing his legs to buckle under his immense
weight. Gurfing slowly got to his feet, swaying slightly. After taking a
few seconds to clear his head, he stepped over to the Captain. He studied
the man now screaming in agony, and motioned for several of the others to
come over.
'Stand him up, lads. ' he said as several gathered around him.
They did as commanded, and struggled to lift the Captain to his feet.
Gurfing stepped up to him, a triumphant look on his face, and gave him one
last looking-over.
'Ye should have listened to me, lad. Then ye wouldn't be dead. '
Gurfing quickly pulled out his flint and deftly ignited several grenades
hanging from the Captain's belt. Gurfing quickly took several paces
backwards, and the sailors holding the Captain screamed, releasing him and
running away. Just as the Captain began to fall back to the deck, Gurfing
ran at him, leaping into the air and kicking him in the chest with both
feet. The Captain flew backwards, hit the railing, and tumbled into the
sea. Several long seconds later, four loud concussions rent the air and a
spray of salt-water flew into the air.
Gurfing stood there for several seconds, then strutted up to the wheel. He
stood there, running his hands over the worn wood, then looked up at the
men.
We be goin' home, lads. Home to our families, or home to our Gods, but
either way, we're gettin' out of these accursed waters! '
Several cheers went up as the sailors ran to their posts. Gurfing looked to
his right, and his eyes alit on something that made him smile. He stepped
away from the wheel and over to a small table a few feet away. He stopped
in front of it, and slowly picked up the Captain's hat. He examined it for
several long moments, smiling the whole while, and finally set it upon his
head.
And thus, Algoron's most dangerous Captain was born.
Writer: Hyacint
Date Mon Mar 3 23:12:01 2014
Writer: Dialook
Date Fri Mar 7 23:39:31 2014
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