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Player Written Story Note Archive

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

Listed By Author Name

Work for Solaria - The Gates of Ironclad
Azheri's dream of retirement
Safe from the Unnatural
| Solitude |
The Priestess: The Mantle of Leadership [Part I]
|Expedition I|
|Expedition II|
|Expedition III|
The Dark Man - Part 3
The Dark Man - Part 3 (cont'd)
The Dark Man - Part 3 (cont'd)
The Dark Man - Part 3 (cont'd)
Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part One)
Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Two)
Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Three)
Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Four)
On the Hunt
Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Five )
Defending the Tower ''(Interlude): Sharp Dressed Man'' (Chapter Three: Part Six )
The Prophecy
An Idle Walk (I)
Tales of the Scurvy Buzzard : Finding What's Lost
Returning Home
X Laying the Foundation (1of4) X
X Laying the Foundation (2of4) X
X Laying the Foundation (3of4) X
X Laying the Foundation (4of4) X
Snake Eyes
The Girl with the Flowery Hair
The Cruel Passage of Time
A Life Long Lost
Justice for the Slain part 1
Terror in the night, pt. 1
Terror in the night, pt. 2
The Mother of Thousands
Roots (pt. 1)
Roots (pt. 2)
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Nordmaar Goes to War) (Part I of II)
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Nordmaar Goes to War) (Part I of II)
A Silent Approach
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: The Messenger) (Part I of II)
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: The Messenger) (Part II of II)
Preparations for War (Part 1 of 2)
The End of a Legacy
Restraint and the virtue of patience
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Infiltration)
Another Side, Another Story 1
Another Side, Another Story 2
The Flames of Wrath
A Midnight Stroll Through Memories (pt 1)
A Midnight Stroll Through Memories (pt 2)
A Midnight Stroll Through Memories (pt 3)
Grandmaster Saryne II
A Gift to the Gray Church: A Sapling of the Vallens
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Unexpected Complications) (Part I of II)
The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Unexpected Complications) (Part II of II)
A Sapling from the Vallenwoods
Beginnings: Into the World
Beginnings: A Crossing of Ways
Another Magni'fae brought into the world
Playing Rough, part 1 of 2
Playing Rough, part 2 of 2
A Late Night
The Day the Music Died p1
The Day the Music Died p2
That's How the Cookie Crumbles... I
That's How the Cookie Crumbles... II
The Oncoming Storm (Act III: The Moment of Truth, The Battle Begins)
Sabaktes Returns
Fw: Fw: Wargames - Rescue, Day 1
Fw: On the Hunt
War Games - VIP Day 1
War Games - VIP Part 2
The Keep of Kalib-Dur - The Beginning
The Keep of Kalib-Dur - The Beginning (2)
The Growing Pains
A New Beginning (Part 1)
A New Beginning (Part 2 The End)
The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes
The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes (pt. 2)
The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes (pt. 3)
The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes (pt. 4)
A Kender's Life For Me! *P1*
It Takes a City
A Kender's Life For Me! *P2*
Fight, pt. 1 (Althainian Wargames, Week 2)
Fight, pt 2 (Althainian Wargames, Week 2)
Fight, pt. 3 (Althainian Wargames, Week 2)
A Kender's Life For Me *P3*
A Kender's Life For Me! -Fin-
None Should Suffer
Flight (Althainian Wargames, interlude between wk2 and 3)
The Patchwork Gift
Reckless, but inspired, pt 1 (Althainian Wargames, Finale)
Reckless, but inspired, pt 2 (Althainian Wargames, Finale)
Reckless, but inspired, part 3 (Althainian Wargames, Finale)
The beginning of not the end!!
Kender Kin *P1*

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Tue Mar 24 14:59:12 2015

To Marauders Thaxanos Grumf All ( Tashio Kyri Raije Imm )

Subject Work for Solaria - The Gates of Ironclad

Shalrienne lead a hard pace through the forests northeast of the Fort.
Wolverhylle was a half a day ride from Ironclad, and there was work to see
about. Though she had told the builders to start on a new fleet of small,
one man ships, that will have to wait. Riding into Solaria, she reigned her
horse, dismounting outside the portmaster's office and strode in. A portly
man sat at his desk, not even looking up he says curtly 'Go away, ain't got
no work today.
' The man smelled of old wine, sweat, fish, and pitch, but
the General made no movement. After five minutes the man looks up and
nearly knocks his chair over. 'Lady General, I.. I didn't know it was you,
what... What can I do for you?
' Shalrienne motions him to sit and speaks
in her usual calm tone 'I need ye te stop wha' ye bae buildin. I need honed
sumbe' sent immediatlae te th' fort. Suppor' beams, scaffoldin', an' pitch.
I also wan' a gate buil' 'ere.
Shalrienne lays a piece of parchment on the
table, figures and dimmensions marking the scrap of paper. Nodding the
portmaster takes the scrap and thinks a moment then says matter of factly
Two days for the scaffolding, we have that already we just have to take it
down and ship it, the gate will take five days, no less. Who is paying for
this may I ask?
Shalrienne turns toward the door and simply states 'I am.
Ship th' scaffoldin t'dae, the gate en five daes time. Ef et bae late, I
will fin' a portmaste' tha' cin meet mae deadlines. '
. With that, she
walks out the door. With the scaffolding and the gate taken care of,
Shalrienne goes to the modest town hall to see what business, if any, she
has to tend to before making the ride back to the keep. Even with
everything going on, she wonders when the next time she can go home for tea,
and whether she will have to drink it alone.

Writer: Azheri

Date Tue Mar 24 16:10:49 2015

To All Bloodlust Nordmaar

Subject Azheri's dream of retirement

The time has come.

Azheri reached into his old diary that he kept from his days as a Gareth
Knight. He writes in the last few pages, coming to a halt on the very last
line where he writes, "Last on the list - to retire." He requests an
audience from Nordmaar, but they were not to be found this day. He wishes
to reside along the best of the human warriors known as the Vikings.

Writer: Andreyna
Date Tue Mar 24 22:41:57 2015

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom Laendyn Arystos Zandreya Fatale Imm RP Religion

Subject Safe from the Unnatural

'If he has need.. Or if he worsens, call upon me', Andreyna Sha'evlas
spoke in elvish to Sarlaithi Sha'evlas, druid and healer of the Vallen's
sacred groves. The priestess looked once more over the elflord sleeping
quietly in a hammock that was hung between two vallenwood trees. She then
turned, leaving the groves and walked down the streets of Shalonesti. It
was dark out, the air was cool and the sounds of the night were All around
her- the ribbiting of frogs, the chirping of crickets, the soft flow of the
river that ran through the elven kingdom.

The shalonesti elf approached the south gates, the guards swinging them open
without question, allowing her to leave, though eyeing her suspiciously.
The warden of the guards nodded in silence at two of the gateguards, the
pair of elves immediately melding into the shadows, stealthily following the

The elven priestess made her way through the Vallenwood forest, the light
elven steps of her bare feet leaving no imprint, making no sound even as she
stepped onto fallen leaves upon the forest's floor. Andreyna continued on,
never looking behind her, never aknowledging the kyorl whom she knew were
closely following her, eventually reaching her destinastion- the Church of

Quietly, she entered the temple. The statue of Zandreya rose before her,
the priestess fell to her knees, gazing up longlingly at the image of her
blessed Mother. 'Gracious Mother, ' she whispered in elvish, 'You are
always with us.. You have told me so from Your own blessed lips.
' 'We are
greatful for this
', the Deacon continued, 'thankful to have such a caring,
strong, compassionate Goddess whom we do not fear.. Whom we call Mother..
For we are your children.

The Queen of the elves closed her eyes, sighing softly as she recalled the
night's events. Arystos Sha'enlas Starchaser stumbling into the grove, his
hand holding tightly to a bloodied bandaged pressed against his neck, three
large gashes bleeding profusely. The priestess immediately aided her
Senator, providing the wound with delicate care as he explained what
happened to Laendyn Shalonost, Speaker of the Stars.

The elf had went hunting after a demon, seeking answers, asking questions
about how to destroy the vampires walking upon Algoron. The demon did not
take too kindly to the questions of the elf, slashing at the Senator,
wounding him greatly. Like many elves, and many other inhabitants of the
world, Arystos wanted an end to the damned.

Her husband, her lifemate, her Speaker, Laendyn Shalonost had put his life
in danger while hunting the foul creatures. This caused worry among the
elven nation, the Speaker should not be anywhere near the hideous demons,
his life was far too important. Now Arystos, her Senator, her mentor, her
closest friend had been injured severely, also putting himself in harm's
way, trying to find a way to end the existance of Fatale's children.

'He said he knows how to end them.. He says we are safe from them.. That
Your protection will keep us from harm
', Andreyna looked up at the statue of
Zandreya, silent tears sliding slowly down her cheeks, 'I know this is true,
Mother, I know You will never allow them to truly harm us
', the Deacon
whispered softly, 'We thank you, most gracious Mother, we are safe within
Your arms, within Your kingdom. We thank You for keeping our Speaker, my
dear husband safe and for allowing the Senator, my dear friend, to return
safely to his home.

Leaning forward, Andreyna pressed her lips to the feet of the statue,
'Always we will remember, we will give thanks, we will appreciate All that
You do for Your children. ' Rising to her feet, the Queen left the Church
of Zandreya, her kyorl falling in behind her. She made her way through the
forest, entering the safety of the Mother's kingdom.

Writer: Ayzrael

Date Wed Mar 25 20:46:30 2015

To Abaddon ( Deccan Fatale Imm All )

Subject | Solitude |

Exhaling softy, the Reaper entered the Basillica, hood of his cloak
resting upon his shoulders, his cerulean gaze somber, face a mask of
neutrality. It had been a very long time since he had stepped foot in this
most holy of places, and as he paused to look around a small smile came -
very little had changed. He looked to the skulls which held the candles
that lit the length of the chapel of Fatale, to the tapestries that hung
upon the walls, the fringes dripping with blood.

He did not disturb the acolytes who were praying over the most recent
sacrifice to the God of Death, instead, he slid quietly into a pew in the
back, his eyes drifting upwards from the corpse to the symbol of Fatale
emblazoned above the altar. He thought back to the last time he beheld the
symbol of his God - it had been a night that spoke volumes to his youthful
arrogance, to the idiocy that had overcame him.

As the drunken words once again came to him in the silence of the Basillica
he shut his eyes, hoping against hope that he would not utter a single
thing, but knowing that hoping would not change actions already commited in
the past. As the mental replay came to an end, he shook his head. His
youthful arrogance was atrocious to even him upon reflection. Forcing a
disgusted chuckle, he once again opened his eyes to the symbol of Fatale.

"Weakness is to be culled. I have removed such, my God. Arrogance and
Pride have given way to wisdom and knowledge of Your Will. With these hands
I shall strive to bring such vision to fruition. Not many are worthy of a
chance to attone, this I know. I thank You, Fatale, for such an
opportunity, and thank thee for blessing those in your stead with the
ability to do the same."

Without a backwards gaze he made his way out of the Basillica, and northward
into the Swamp-land that had birthed him, to begin his attonement that the
man he once called brother, the man who was Count had decreed.

"Your will be done, my Count."

Writer: Isabel

Date Wed Mar 25 23:01:48 2015

To Justice All ( Roleplay Nazca Immortal Austinian Religion )

Subject The Priestess: The Mantle of Leadership [Part I]

A sharp, rapping knock at the door drew Isabel back from the quiet of her
afternoon meditations. She opened her brilliant blue eyes as she rose from
her knelt position and called out loud enough to be heard as she made her
way to the large desk at the center of the room. "Please, come in." The
door opened hesitantly as a young man carrying a rather large satchel on his
shoulder entered the room and paused on the threshhold. This was not one of
the Wrath's soldiers but by the looks of his clothing, a citizen from

Isabel laughed gently, shaking her head as she beckoned the courier to come
toward the desk where she now sat. He seemed anxious, as though he wished
to be anywhere else at the moment but there. Isabel rested her clasped
hands on the desk as she watched him, both brows raised in curiosity as she
waited patiently. The courier shuffled the parchments in his bag around as
he searched for the missives he was supposed to deliver. The poor man's hand
shook as he finally produced the letters and held them out to her. "These
are for you, L-Lady Executor."

The priestess offered the courier a kind smile filled with warmth and
sympathy as she reached out to take the letters from him. "A new job, this?"
The young man blushed and nodded his head quickly as he averted his gaze to
the rug on the floor. "You are doing just fine, I assure you." Isabel's
words were sincere and comforting. The courier glanced up at her as she
leaned back on the large throne-like chair. "In fact, you have done so well
today that I would like to offer you this to show my appreciation. " As
she spoke, Isabel took out a large coin purse and placed it on the desk
before the young man. His eyes widened in surprise and he shook his head
quickly once more. "No, Executor, I cannot accept this. These missives...
I was told you would not be happy to recieve them..." Isabel lifted a
hand to stop him and the courier's voice tapered off. She spoke gently but
with firmness. "There will always be wars and rumor of wars. But through
all things, the Father's Light is there to guide us and bring us comfort
despite whatever troubles may come. May you go with the Father's blessings."
She smiled gently at him and pushed the pouch of coins a few inches closer
to the young man. He returned the smile with a look of relief and tipped his
head in respect to her before taking the coins she had offered. "Thank you,
Lady Executor." The priestess waved her hand dismissively with a soft
giggle before saying, "You may simply call me Isabel, if you like." The
courier nodded slowly. "Thank you, milady Isabel." He tipped his head
once more before heading back out the door, closing it more loudly than he
had likely intended to behind him.

Isabel smiled to herself and laid the letters down on the desk. She did not
think she would ever get used to being called Executor. The title brought
memories of her first days in Justice and with them them many smiles and
giggles as she recalled how nervous she had been herself. In fact, she had
not been so different from the courier.

With a wistful sigh, she returned her attention to the missives waiting for
her and withdrew a letter opener from the desk. These matters fell to her
for the time being, for however long she was to serve Austinian's Army in
this capacity. She hoped that she would do well by both her soldiers and
the Father.

Writer: Traice

Date Thu Mar 26 00:26:56 2015

To All Verminasia ( Roleplay Tashi-ho Tashio )

Subject |Expedition I|

Traice glanced upwards at the sky.

"A small fortune.. And for this? Bah. Its always raining. "

The crackling of the fire fought a losing battle against the continual rain.
The heavens seemingly opened up only over Lamordia, beating the rain
downwards, over-filling the ground with water, leaving a thin layer of water
over the muddied ground.

Traice scowled, wiping the back of his hand across his nose as he sniffled.
His eyes narrowed at the now burnt out fires, his demeanor unpleasant and
angry. The water dripped down from his soaked raven hair, dripping down
across his pale flesh to his clothes - now sitting in soaked garments.

The downpour slowed, keeping the rain at an annoyingly consistent misting.
Traice stilled a moment, hearing the cracking of twigs, the clop-clopping of
tracks in the mud. He leapt upwards, hand moving to the hilt of his
longsword, eyes squinting into the darkness along the path as a figure came
into view on horseback, trodding through the splashy-thick muck.

Iohan rode into view. His helmet sat on his lap as he approached. A
beastly looking giant dressed in full, spiked battle armor, bone mixed in
with the arcanium like some savage out of tales. Iohan grunted, kicking one
powerful leg over the horse, mud splashing back at Traice, covering his face
in the splattered of the glop. The beastial figure strode over to Traice,
nodding to him before sitting on a log.

"Wet here. Muddy. "

Traice rose an eyebrow, glowering at his uncle.

"Is it? I hadnt noticed. "

Iohan grunted, shrugging his powerful shoulders.

"Food? "

Traice rolled his eyes, reaching into his pack, pulling out a loaf of bread,
tossing it over to the now-seated man. Iohan caught the bread, smirking at
Traice while ripping it in half, taking a large, bear-sized bite.

"Why have you not made a fire? Its easy. "

Traice let his mouth fall agape. Hands wordlessly, and dumbfoundedly
gesturing to the doused fire.

Writer: Traice

Date Thu Mar 26 00:33:06 2015

To All Verminasia ( Roleplay Tashi-yo Tashio )

Subject |Expedition II|

At that moment, the air began to shimmer, a portal spreading widely over
the area - a tall, spindly young man stepping through it. Traice raised his
eyes in the hope that he would fall flat into the mud. Mataus raised his
eyebrow at Traice, a deft hand movement causing him to float in the air,
resting him gracefully on top of a log.

"Its.. Very wet here cousin. Does Verminasia not have land which isnt so
wet? "

Traice sighed, prodding the fires remains with his sheathed sword.

Mataus lowered his eyes to the dampened out remains of the fire.

"You should build a fire. It keeps you toasty. Youll catch sick without
it. "

Traice frowned, opening his mouth to speak, but shaking his head in
response. Instead opting to flick bits of the soaked wood out of the fire
at Mataus - which were quickly set on fire, incinerating.

"See? Fire. "

Anthaus loudly plopped himself down on a log next to Mataus, causing the
entire party to jump. As Traice lifted his head, he was greated by a -very-
large wolf.. No two of them. One tilted its head curiously at Traice
before what seemed like a shrug - sauntering off to go lay down under the
covers of the trees.

"Its very rainy here. I quite like it. Good choice. "

Traice smirked, opening his mouth to speak before being cut off.

"But you should have built a fire. Its cold out tonight. "

Smirk vanishing, Traice stood up. The slow glopping sounds as he moved his
way through the miserable camp to address his family.

"Now that youre All here, three weeks late Bandits have taken up residence
in the old manor. They hold this land, and strangle its resources. I have
bought it from the crown, and it belongs to us. We will-"

Anthaus cleared his throat, raising his hand as he cocked his head to the
side, looking at Traice confused.

"Well.. We did have bandits. The wolves got hungry. Let me show you. "

Traice and the group stood in front of the large manor, beaten down and
covered with vines, the cracked, decaying wagons stood - long looted outside
the gates. Some with torn canvasses, others portraying the obvious
blackened wood signs of a razing. The group moved forward, examining the

Writer: Traice

Date Thu Mar 26 00:34:22 2015

To All Verminasia ( Roleplay Tashi-Nooooo Tashio )

Subject |Expedition III|

It was in obvious disrepair. The house itself was used as a base for
bandits, who did everything they desired there. Womens undergarments
covered the entrance room, likely in All rooms as they split up.

Traice wandered from room to room, heading downstairs into the basement as
he carefully marked down some interesting points about the land. As he
raised his eyes from the parchment, his mouth fell open.

A large latex body-suit hung from the ceiling in front of him - hopefully
with no one still in it. Traice looked around the body-suit, and entire
basement covered in various implements of debauchery and torture. Several
collars laid open on the table in the middle of the room, All reading:

"Property of Argg Vro'thane"

Writer: Diuxa

Date Thu Mar 26 02:31:02 2015

Writer: Cheitan

Date Thu Mar 26 17:35:54 2015

To All (Mencius Imm RP)

Subject The Dark Man - Part 3

He had never quite experienced the feelings that coursed through him, had
never had to face many feelings at All really, but much less one that was so
persistant. After spending his life dedicated to discipline and detachment,
the dark man did not know how to handle the discomfort of anxiety.

The shadow followed him on his nightly journeys, mocking him with slight
touches and laughter from the shadows of the night. He couldn't see what it
was, which only served to heighten his sense of worry. It hadn't tried to
speak to him since the night on the ledge in Icewall, but he could sense a
message in All it did. And the message was not well received.

That it was more powerful than he went without saying. The dark man had
very little knowledge of the mystical and even less of beings without form
or face. Magic was simply a tool to employ when working, nothing more. If
only he could see what it was!


It was time. The fading daylight sent long shadows stetching across the
floortiles of the cell where he took refuge. Checking his weapons, though
he doubted they would be needed for the task at hand, he left the room and
slipped into the sparse forests just to the west of Siobhan.

Finding the ledge again wasn't difficult, nor was he much tired from the
quick journey from the east, over the moors and up into the hills until
finally reaching the craggy face of the mountain. He peered about the
clearing near his former perch, but, as he suspected, it was quite empty of
hiding places, not even a nook was present for a person to shelter in.
Scratching his head, he returned to the finger of rock overhanging the ledge
and sat down to wait.

It was long past midnight before the quiet moaning of the wind was broken by
an ominous chuckle from nearby. Tightening his grip on his cloak, he made
no move to show that he'd heard and refrained from turning around towards
the direction of the sound.

"You don't come here often enough for it to be chance, Dark Man. So, you
must be ready to talk..."

The voice was low and soft, a sibilant hiss that reminded him more of snakes
than he cared to admit, but he kept his eyes forward as he replied, "To whom
do I speak? Or to what..?"

A slight pause ensued before he heard the response, "A concerned servant of
your Lord, and a helper to some, I am."

"A servant of my Lord? And a helper, you say, though what makes you think I
need help, I cannot imagine. I am quite capable as I'm sure you've come to
see as you follow me about, skulking like a petty thief."

The dark man shivered as he heard the grating laugh of the voice, and he
wondered suddenly if he hadn't erred in bringing this meeting about in such
a place. He was very aware of the drop before him and the stony earth far
below. He dared to turn around then, pivoting on his feet as he crouched.

"Why don't you show yourself to me, concerned servant? Is your form so
hideous that you hide it from even the stars above us?"
As he finished
speaking, he prepared himself to flee if necessary, palming a small vial in
his hand, an escape potion he kept for emergencies.


Writer: Cheitan

Date Thu Mar 26 18:12:42 2015

To All (Mencius Imm RP)

Subject The Dark Man - Part 3 (cont'd)

"Hideous? No, I would not call my kind that, though I was not made to
please the eyes,"
the voice rasped from somewhere in the darkness.

The dark man could not place the direction from whence the voice came, a
small knot of anxiety causing his stomach to clench. He thought he caught
sight of a darker patch of darkness against the cliff face, but couldn't be
sure if it wasn't just his eyes playing tricks on him.

The sibilant voice continued, "Yes, you do quite well, Dark Man, and I am
sure your master is quite pleased with you. But you could do even better
with my help."

Still anxious, but also curious now, his mind worked quickly, still trying
to formulate a way to capture this intruder in his life, or, perhaps to end
it altogether in a more final way. He moderated his tone to seem as if he
was lowering his guard, becoming more relaxed.

"Yes, you said that you were a helper, but you did not say how, servant of
my master. If it is a partnership you seek, then I would not bother. I
work alone." He edged forward then, still crouched, wanting to be away
from the cliff face.

"No, no, it is nothing like that, I assure you. I know that about you,
friend. I know that you would no sooner take a partner than I would! No,
that would be quite... Impossible."

Letting an edge creep into his voice, an edge that he really felt, he
answered the voice back.

"Enough of this banter. Tell me the help you offer or begone! Your
presence is an irritation I will soon put an end to, let me assure

The darkness chuckled at him, sounding very amused at the implied threat.

"Calm, Dark Man. Patience," the voice soothed, "I will explain it All to
you, though I doubt you will be able to understand the kind of "help" I can
give to you. Let us just say that my "presence" is one of the main

Shaking his head emphatically in the the darkness, the dark man shot right
back in anger.

"Forget it then, because I do not wish your presence, or ANY presence for
that matter. Get you gone if that is your "help." A sword, some armor,
these things would be welcome, but I work alone, as I've already told you."

Again, the laughter ensued, louder this time and somehow nearer though the
dark patch against the cliff had not stirred.

"You misunderstand me, Dark Man! You don't understand what it is that I can
give you. Would you really turn me away so quickly? Do you not wish to
become more powerful? Do you not wish to please your master even more than
you have?"
The voice spoke in a wierd tone, its rhythms hypnotic and
soothing. "Do you not wish to elevate yourself in his eyes?"


Writer: Cheitan

Date Thu Mar 26 19:41:38 2015

To All (Mencius Imm RP)

Subject The Dark Man - Part 3 (cont'd)

His mind felt somehow slow, his once racing thoughts now in a miasma of
confusion and doubt. Sure he'd like to make Mencius notice him. Sure, he'd
like more power, more standing among the other servants... Who wouldn't?
He kept his eyes on the shadowy patch, a hazy cloud of pitch it seemed to

"Ah, yes. I can see the indecision in you, Dark Man. I have watched you!
I know what it is you do, and I'm telling you that I can make you much, much
better! How could you not want that, hmm?"

Turning his head then, he spoke, his voice wavering from it's normal muted
tones to a more timid timber. He blushed in shame.

"I do want that, but what could you possibly do that I have not already
done? I've trained hard and long, I've gone without and I've sacrificed my
very being to be as I am. Look at me! Look at my skin and my clothing!
What help for the black devil?!"

He saw it then. He saw it clearly! The shadowy haze detached itself from
the wall and drifted closer to him! The hairs on his neck stood on end even
as his mouth grew dry and his tongue thick. It stopped a short way from
him, close enough for him to reach out and touch it, though he dared not!

"Black devil? Stop being so dramatic... Are you going to cry, poor, poor
Dark Man? But that is not your name, is it, Cheitan? Are you not the great
killer, Cheitan of the Dungeon?!"

His face flushing a deeper crimson, the assassin's voice grew cold and
angry, a rage growing within him that he had not felt in a long time, an
emotion he'd normally suppress at All costs. It wasn't safe, anger. It led
to mistakes.

"Do not call me that, you cloud of ogre's gas. I make no claims of who I
am, and I need you not, I think. You have nothing to offer, but your foul
presence, so begone from me."
He rose, as if to walk right through the
cloudy form.

"I would not do that were I you, Dark Man. I would not walk away from the
best thing that will ever happen to you. I am an opportunity, you see? You
will not have another chance at this, and I do not make fun at your
expense... Rather I would give you aid to make true your vision for
yourself. You see, I need your help, too, and your success is tied to my
The sibilant voice crooned at him with the force of sincerity.

Standing tall, he watched as the dark cloud expanded in front of him,
matching his shape as if it were a man made of misty darkness. He shivered
despite his resolve, his eyes narrowing as he backed up slowly once more,
back towards the finger of rock hanging over the cliff. He toyed with the
idea of using the vial, but chose instead to find out more.

"How is that, my success tied to your own? What is it that you want from
me, Shadow?"

Crooning still, the voice took on a seemingly pleasant tone, as if they were
two friends, sharing a mug of ale at an inn and gossiping about the serving

"Shadow... I like that, I think, for that is really All I am. Much better
than "ogre gas," was it?" A rasping chuckle, and then, "I do not want
anything from you, Dark Man, like I said, I merely want to help you.
you need to do is be receptive to it, really. Perhaps you could just invite
me into your life with some token words, or some gesture that would show me
you are ready to accept my help... Do not knights kneel before their king
to receive a blessing from them?"

"I bow to no king, Shadow. What game do you play?" The assassin was
growing angry again. Really, he'd had enough of this game.

"No, I am no king, but you don't listen..." The voice grew hypnotic again,
sending the dark man's mind into confusion as it permeated the air around
him, "Why don't you do as I ask? Is it so hard to bend knee as a sign of
contrition against your ego?
Here is your chance, killer. Here it is
before you! Take it. Take it. Take it..."


Writer: Milleuda

Date Thu Mar 26 19:45:19 2015

Writer: Mercerion

Date Thu Mar 26 19:46:44 2015

Writer: Mercerion

Date Thu Mar 26 19:46:58 2015

Writer: Mercerion

Date Thu Mar 26 19:58:53 2015

Writer: Cheitan

Date Thu Mar 26 20:05:24 2015

To All (Mencius Imm RP)

Subject The Dark Man - Part 3 (cont'd)

Despite his reservations, Cheitan dropped to his knees, his head bowing
down towards his chest in defeat. This alien will was much stronger than
his own. He felt weak, much weaker than he'd ever felt before. Sparks of
panic were consumed by the fog in his mind.

The rocks of the ledge were chilly beneath his hands as he placed them
before him. He tried to clear his mind, but gave up soon as he felt what
seemed to be icy fingers at the back of his neck. Fear came on him then,
and he wanted nothing more than to quaff the vial holding the escape potion
and disappear away from this nightmare on the ledge, but he was held fast in
place. The fear he felt was nothing compared to the shock of what happened

"And now, you are mine, Dark Man! Writhe as you like, but it is done..."
The voice, shrieking as if an angry wind, pierced Cheitan's ears.

It was a bite. He was sure of it, he could feel the teeth in his throat!
Ice and fire exploded into his neck, and he gasped and shook like a man
being shocked by lightning. He cried out in pain, and then he was loose!
Scrambling backwards, the last thing he felt was himself falling from the
ledge... He knew no more.


The dark form rose from the base of the cliff. The sense he felt in his new
body was amazing, better than he'd felt in such a long, long time. He felt
the hunger on him, much more palpable a calling it was in this flesh. But
still, he smiled. It was going to be a beautiful day, he thought.

Cheitan strode forward into the woods, searching for a dark place to take
refuge in against the coming of the Sun.

The End

Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Thu Mar 26 20:56:51 2015

To All Althainia Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm rp Scorn Austinian Zandreya Ehl'din

Subject Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part One)

''In conclusion, by moving our lumber inventory from the tower, and into
one of our shops, we can expect an increase in overall sales, for they would
be available at any time, instead of being constrained by the availability
of the Chairman. Cost-benefit analysis indicates that flee Nordmaar would
be the ideal location for such. Nordmaar's inventory can easily be divided
between the other stores. ''

The majority of the Board nodded its assent as Illiquin, Vice-President of
Accounting, slowly gathered up his papers and climbed down from the
boardroom table, returning to his seat. With the passing of each year, this
had become increasingly difficult for the elderly gnome. But his drive to
work and maintain his age-old routine caused him no complaint. He settled
inot his comfortable leatherbound executive swivel chair and awaited the
Chairman's feedback.

It did not take long for the Chairman to respond. ''I can't lie. We've
tried this in the past, and sales were a bit sluggish. But, I can't find
fault in your argument. Full availability is more lucrative than limited
availablity. And I agree, that Nordmaar would be the ideal location, should
we do this. ''

Ixi grabbed a translucent bottle of water from his right and took a long
sip, replacing the cap and placing the bottle back down on the table. He
looked around and continued. ''Anyone have any issues with this plan? ''

'I do!" Olliwac, Vice-President of Marketing, Advertising, and Promotions
exclaimed vigorously, waving his arms to and fro. ''That's -my- store!
Logs are sooooooo boring! I could sit there All day and never see anyone!
I say we compromise! How about this... '

The Board looked on quietly as the animated kender gestured madly with his
arms. ''I know a guy in Tokaido. He's a fireworks salesman. He can get us
all sorts of cheap fireworks! We could sell them -and- our logs at the
Nordmaar store! We could call it, 'Fireworks and Wood'! And we could hold
demonstrations! And hand out samples to the kids! How fun would that be?!

Ooof was the first one able to formulate words after the kender's ludicrous
proposal. ''Hmm. Ooof no engineer. But Ooof nut think wood an' fireworks
in the same store such a gud idea der. ''

The Board once again turned their gaze on the Chairman, his fingers tented
in silent contemplation. Once again, he returned prompt response.

'I'll consider it. '

''Really!? '' the Board nearly shouted in unison, Olliwac included.

The Chairman laughed heartily.

'No, not really! '

''Aww!!! '' Olliwac cried, his hopes of wood and fireworks dashed.

The Chairman rose from his seat and spoke once again. ''I say we go ahead
with the Nordmaar plan. And I'd say that just about covers everything
today. Meeting adjourned! ''

With a pound on the table, the secret panel leading to the Chairman's office
opened, and Ixi'kweez made his way towards it. As an afterthought, he
turned and spoke once more.

''Oh, and if one of you would be so kind as to ask Hyako'cho to cancel my
appointments for the afternoon, I'd appreciate it. I've some business that
needs my attention. '' With that, the Chairman entered his office and
closed the door behind him.

'Finally, some time to myself! '

With a sigh of relief, the Chairman stretched his arms and made his way to
his desk. Grabbing a stack of missives and correspondences from atop his
desk, he plopped himself into his corinthian leatherbound executive swivel
chair, propping his feet on his desk, and began reading at his leisure.

Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Thu Mar 26 21:48:48 2015

To All Althainia Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm rp Scorn Austinian Zandreya Ehl'din

Subject Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Two)

Furui glanced about the executive lobby, as the elevator doors parted
before him. He was mildly impressed by Thimtax's elaborate woodwork,
radiating in every direction. Spotting the receptionist's desk ahead of
him, he briskly approached it and the elven woman manning it, who returned a
pleasant smile in greeting.

'Welcome to Ixi-Mart. How may I help you today? '

'Yes, greetings. My name is Furui Shinchu, and I have scheduled an
appointment to see the Chairman at this time. '

Hyaku'cho's smile became tinged with a bit of sadness at the mention of an

'Ohhhh. I'm very sorry, Mr. Shinchu. But I'm afraid Chairman Ixi'kweez
had to cancel All of his appointments for the afternoon. You see, he had
some extremely urgent business demanded his immediate attention. He sends
his strong regrets. '

The pleasant man frowned upon hearing the elf's words. He replied, clearly
a bit confused.

'Cancelled? But I needed to speak with the Chairman about-'

'Chairman Ixi'kweez deeply regrets and inconvenience or hardship this may
have cause to our loyal friends, customers, and vendors. He asks that you
come back this time tomorrow. Again, you have our sincerest apologies. '

Furui had wanted to be indignant about his snubbing by the Chairman. But
the wild elven woman did not deserve to bear any of that burden. She was
simply doing her job, and went through great pains to be polite about it.
For the moment, there was nothing he could do.

'Well, aright then. I thank you for your time. '

The disappointed man in simple brown robes turned on his heel, and made his
way back to the elevator. He could hear the receptionist as the doors
closed behind him.

'Take care! And have an Ixi-Mart kind of day! '

A wry grin grew on Furui's face as he and the elevator sailed downward
towards the main lobby. He mused to himself quietly.

'Very well then. Let's go see what has the Ixi'kweez so damned occupied. '

Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Thu Mar 26 23:04:20 2015

To All Althainia Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm rp Scorn Austinian Zandreya Ehl'din

Subject Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Three)

The late afternoon sun felt good on Ol' Brassy's metallic scales, as he
glided lazily upon unseen currents. Spotting his destination ahead, he
slowed himself and began a modest descent, landing majestically atop one of
the huge, iron 'perches', mounted atop the roof of the Ixi-Mart Tower, well
over a thousand feet above Mart-Town. He took a moment to preen himself,
then slung his massive head over the side of the tower, scanning the 99th
and final floor.

The boardroom, complete with boardroom table (which he himself dragged up
there), was devoid of inhabitants. Scanning the perimeter of the floor, he
noticed that a segment of the circular floor was cordoned off by a tall,
wooden dividing wall. Ol' Brassy retracted his head and turned his massive
bulk around, hopping over to the perch on the other side of the roof. He
craned his head over the side once more.

The huge, brass wyrm easily spotted the Chairman directly beyond the window.
He appeared to be reclined in his chair, feet atop his desk, casually
reading a stack of papers. Ol' Brassy looked on in disbelief and

'Thisss isss hisss 'all-important' emergency busssinessssss? Why, he isss
just lazing around and reading! I came here to tell him that trouble hasss
come to Mart-Town, and-- wait a minute. Isss... Isss he sssleeping!? '

It was hard for the gigantic wyrm not to notice as the Chairman's head
slowly dipped down with no further movement, other than deep, steady
breathing. Ol' Brassy growled quietly.

'Thisss isss completely unacceptable! I will not ssstand for thisss! '

The monstrous dragon pressed his massive snout right up against the window
separating himself from the Chairman and bellowed irritably.

''-HEY!!! -''

Instantly, Ixi'kweez bolted straight up from his chair in abject terror,
coming back down awkwardly, causing his and his chair to turn over backwards
with an awful crash. Immediately hopping to his feet, and spotting the
giant wyrm staring back at him, its massive jaws agape, he jumped backwards,
clutching the desk behind him, paralyzed by fear.

'-This- is why you cancelled my appointment!? I come to bring you imprtant
information, and you sssnub me for.... For nap-time!? '

This was one of those rare moments, where the Chairman was at a loss for

'I.... I..... '

Ol' Brassy rolled his massive hazel eyes in disgust. Wishing to be delayed
no longer, he spoke earnestly.

'We do not have time for thisss! I'm coming back in there! Go tell your
receptionissst not to turn me away thisss time. We have important mattersss
to dissscussssss! '

Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Thu Mar 26 23:49:31 2015

To All Althainia Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm rp Scorn Austinian Zandreya Ehl'din

Subject Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Four)

-knock knock knock-

The door quietly opened inward, as Hyaku'cho, Furui in tow, crossed the
threshold into the Chairman's office. She spoke softly and succinctly.

'Mister Shinchu, sir. '

'Thank you, Hyaku'cho. Mister Shinchu. Please, have a seat. '

The elven lady tipped her hear in quiet respect and began to close the door
behind her. She halted her action, hearing the Chairman address her again.

'Wait a minute! '

Hyaku'cho turned around to regard the Ixi once again, noticing his baffled
expression. ''Yes, Mr. Chairman? ''

'Tell me. How did you open that door just now? '

'The door? '' Hyaku'cho asked, a bit confused herself it seemed. ''Well, I
just pressed on that discrete looking panel just to the right of the door,
and it opened right up. That was quite a clever system, Master Thimtax had
come up with. Why? How do you open the door? '

The Chairman blinked in disbelief at the mention of a hidden panel switch.
As far as he was aware, the only way of opening his office door, was by
pounding on a similar panel, located in front of the Chairman's seat at the
boardroom table. Thimtax had neglected to inform the Chairman that there
was a simpler, less ridiculous way of getting into his office. Ixi'kweez
mused silently to himself. What other suprises has our dear old friend left
for us here in his masterpiece?

The Chairman shook his head quietly and smiled.

'Nevermind, Hyaku'cho. That will be all. Thank you again. '

The elven receptionist nodded, shutting the office door behind her.

'So. '' the pleasant man in simple brown robes offered, a grinning coyly.
''How -do- you open the door? '

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Fri Mar 27 09:28:16 2015

Writer: Phemia

Date Fri Mar 27 10:18:40 2015

Writer: Phemia

Date Fri Mar 27 10:20:19 2015

Writer: Phemia

Date Fri Mar 27 10:22:47 2015

Writer: Phemia

Date Fri Mar 27 10:28:05 2015

Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Mar 27 15:07:21 2015

Writer: Mercerion

Date Fri Mar 27 15:07:49 2015

Writer: Phemia

Date Sat Mar 28 10:30:52 2015

Writer: Phemia

Date Sat Mar 28 10:34:49 2015

Writer: Ashbie

Date Sun Mar 29 12:25:22 2015

Writer: Ashbie

Date Sun Mar 29 12:59:21 2015

Writer: Miirphys

Date Sun Mar 29 13:46:24 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Sun Mar 29 18:20:11 2015

Writer: Wyltte

Date Sun Mar 29 19:04:49 2015

To Verminasia Necrucifer IMM All Religion

Subject Restless

The dim light of the altar of darkness reflected his mood, the slow
dripping of water from the fountain the only sound within the massive hall.
Wyltte knelt at the statue's feet in supplication, head lowered and staring
at the floor, his brow furrowed in contemplation. It had been a few weeks
since his lengthy stay in Doija, and the search for his biological sister
turned up just another wild goose chase.

She was really and truly gone.

He had come to love the city, the hospitality and cordial nature of the
citizens there. Though it was far different from his Barbarian roots, there
was a certain, reserved savageness in the land. As he walked the streets
for the last few weeks in Verminasia, reacquainting himself with sights and
sounds of the Dark Kingdom, he started to feel restless.

Waking from his musings, Wyltte's restlessness started to gnaw on his anger,
his hatred for always feeling like an outsider. He has wore so many hats,
donned so many uniforms, that being a Lord within Verminasia and just
tending to matters of the church was new to him. In some ways it was a
blessing, allowing him to preach the Master's teachings in peace... But in
other ways it was like being in a desert oasis in an incalculably large

There were things of the past he missed, and moreover people that once
called him a friend and confidant who have found their eternal slumber in
the beauty of the Master's Darkness. There were still a few whose faces
were recognizable, whose words did not sour his ears, but there were also
too many new to be comfortable with fully.

Wyltte just started out the main archway of the temple and down the southern
trail towards Arkane. His hands clenched into fists, his anger and
restlessness would not subside. Off to the east, he heard the faint crash
of swordblades as those from Castle Ravencrest tried to defend their castle.
The ringing of metal on metal resonated in his soul, already in conflict for
the doldrums he was in. Unsheathing his blade and saying a prayer to Lord
Necrucifer, a dark aura started to swirl around him as he made his way onto
the western edge of the battlefield.

Large dogs were chewing on the corpses of the fallen soldiers, both of the
light and dark. Flesh was being torn from their frames, their faces
distorted in last looks of pain and anguish. A few bloodied Paladins note
his entrance to the fray and rush him, blades held high and at the ready.
Not breaking stride, Wyltte lashes out quickly towards the unarmored flesh
at their necks, and a single scarlet line forms. A look of disbelief comes
over to their face as they fall to their hands and knees, their last screams
nothing but incomprehensible gurgles. With each step his resolve is
hardened, with each moment passing his purpose set.

A passing sorceress who was dazed did not see Wyltte approach. He moves by
her almost silently, placing his hand on one shoulder and uttering a few
words, violent looking sores started to appear on her face and neck. Her
screams were lost to the fury in his brain.

Fumbling in his satchel for an old key he had held onto for some time,
Wyltte steps to the gate and gains entrance to the castle, and as the
drawbridge opens a few stunned guards stare into the face of dark hatred.

Writer: Wyltte

Date Sun Mar 29 19:36:42 2015

To Verminasia Necrucifer IMM All Religion

Subject Restless

It did not take long before the unprepared guards were dispatched.
Charging before him like an unholy battering ram was an earth elemental, its
incredible wrath smashing the bodies of the guards into the walls, never to
rise again. Wyltte did not smile at each sacrifice to his Dark Lord, but
knew that each life lost was an offering to the entirety of the Pantheon.

Their lives were cut short, thus blessing Fatale. His body glowed with the
dark energy granted by Drakkara. His fury drove him on, fueled by the power
of Mencius. He laughed at those who fell in anguish, the sounds an offering
to Devion. Rotting corpses littered the floor, feeding the worms that
Dragoth uses to purify the land. Finally, each light of hte light cut short
strengthenes the darkness in the culling, a true offering to His Master,

As he approached the temple within the great castle, a holy priest of
Austinian came charging out, a bright white aura surrounding him like a
flaming torch. Wyltte sends his unholy elemental crashing into the priest,
but he easily uses his own power to send him back to the nether. It was
Wyltte and the priest locked in combat, terrified monks cowering in the
corner from fear as they each uttered powerful words of magic. Both men
were tired, and neither were giving ground. His patience growing thin, his
hatred for the man grew like the height of an incoming tidal wave. His eyes
changing to almost ebony in their appearance, Wyltte utters the most
powerful incantation he knew, invoking the full holy words of Necrucifer.
He felt power swirling within him, and immense pain as he watched the priest
in front of him simply turn into charred bits of paper.

Reeling with the effort, Wyltte drops down to his knees and tries to catch
his breath. The robes of the priest lay in a smouldering pile in front of
him. Picking them up and laying them over his left shoulder, he makes his
way slowly to the court of the King.

The King was sitting with his back nestled into the corner of his throne as
Wyltte walks through the door, a few lines of blood flowing from a small cut
in his forehead. The stress of the long standing battle weighed as heavy on
him as his enormous crown. He looked at the single priest enter, and a few
of his personal guards started to form a circle around him.

"You wage this war, King, with no end. Why do you not yield?" Wyltte asks
the king, his voice low but strong in the huge hall.

The king looks at him, an almost smug look on his face as he replies. "I
wage it because it must be waged. We cannot give ground to those who would
see the world burnt like yourself."
Wyltte throws his head back and
laughs, the sound amplified and seeming to bounce through the halls as it
grows in strength.

"Then you know nothing of Darkness, and nothing of what we work to do. We
seek to unify the world. Only those foolish enough to intervene will get
swept away."
Wyltte throws the pile of robes before him, the symbol of
Austinian warped but still visible on the fabric.

"As to your aim, Good King, you will see the world burn.. But not because
of your holy war...."
Wyltte says as his hands start to glow red with
flames. "You will see it burn because my hands have been idle too long."

The guards started to press in towards Wyltte, but a firestorm of flames
started to swirl around him, igniting those who were foolish enough to get
close. Screams of anguish from the light-wakers were lost to the torrential
downpour of flames within the hall. Soon All were engulfed, as Wyltte stood
in the midst of them incanting words of dark power.

When it was All over, All that was left uncharred was the massive crown
which fell onto the scarred stone to Wyltte's feet, and the robes which he
used to mock the King. Grabbing them both up, he headed back out the
doorway, no less restless than he was before he came.

Writer: Reagan

Date Sun Mar 29 22:37:33 2015

Writer: Cassioppia

Date Sun Mar 29 23:06:38 2015

To All Nordmaar Kyri Derigimus Zypher RP

Subject On the Hunt

Cassie dressed in her black night ops clothing making sure everything was
tucked in, especially her hair. Tied up her leather ankle high mocassins,
tucked her weapons in their spots, and headed out the door. Once outside,
she took a deep breath of fresh air, This night will go well. She thought.
She finished what she had to do and started her hike to the yinn encampment.
Down the mountain, through the forest, and up the mountain again then
finally at nightfall, she reached the encampment. Their she picked a spot
to rest until the camp got quiet.

As the camp finally settled Cassie started to walk about. She was very good
at sneaking and managed to get through the camp unnoticed. She had found
her marks, the supply tent and the weapons tent, she entered the weapons
tent and took as many new daggers as she could carry and buried everything
else she could in a spot she knew they wouldn

She watched from afar as they finally noticed the fire but it was too late.
Both tents had burned to ashes. As cassie headed home she had a huge smile
on her face and on her mind Until the next time,

Writer: Jarlebanke

Date Sun Mar 29 23:30:08 2015

Writer: Megan

Date Mon Mar 30 15:43:34 2015

Writer: Cassioppia

Date Mon Mar 30 18:45:34 2015

Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Mon Mar 30 22:34:27 2015

To All Althainia Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm rp Scorn Austinian Zandreya Ehl'din

Subject Defending the Tower ''-HEY!!!- (A Meeting With the Chairman)'' (Chapter Three: Part Five )

Choosing to gloss over the question offered by his already seated guest,
he took a deep breath and offered greetings.

'Mister Shinchu. Or, should I say, Ol' Brassy? '

The mild mannered man chuckled pleasantly at the mention of Thimtax's
moniker for him.

'Is that what he called me? Well, it's simple, to the point, and it
explains it all. Very well then. Yes. I am the one our friend Thimtax
referred to as 'Ol' Brassy'. I realize that until now, we have not been
formally introduced. '

'No, not formally, no. '', the Chairman added wryly. ''I've only ever seen
you when you were hurtling towards me at ludicrous speeds, presumably in an
attempt to give me a heart attack. '

Furui chortled coyly. ''I assure you. Only one of those times was
intentional. ''

''Which one!? '', Ixi'kweez snapped back in mild annoyance.

The man in simple brown robes shook his head, then diverted the
conversation. ''Is this really important right now? I've been trying for
the better part of the afternoon to let you know that one of the townspeople
was assaulted and robbed this morning! ''

The Chairman's annoyance quickly escalated into rage as he heard the mention
of an assault in Mart-Town. He rose from his chair, shaking with anger. He
was quickly waved back down by Furui's calming gesture.

''Relax, Mr. Chairman, I've taken care of it. Noone was hurt, that which
was stolen has been returned, and he who perpetrated this crime will no
longer enter these gates. I've seen to it. Mr. Chairman, you knew this
would happen eventually. No place can remain wholly safe from crime and
violence. ''

'No, I suppose you're right. This only serves to illustrate that I need to
spend more time in the town, seeing to it that everything is al-'

His words were abruptly cut off as Furui interjected.

'You can't do it all, Mr. Chairman. You run a corporation. You are a
ranking member among the Shalonesti. Mart-Town needs its own security
force, made up of its own people. Mart-Town needs a Sherriff to lead and
coordinate this. '

'Oh, and I suppose you feel -you- would be the perfect fit for this Sherriff
position? '

'Well, why -not- me? '' Furui quipped, smiling coyly. ''I -did- take care
of the assault today. '

''-One- criminal! You stopped -one- criminal! And I'd wager you were at
the right place at the right time! '' Ixi'kweez halted his words and
reconsidered. He really couldn't do it alone, and security of the town
could not be done half-assed. And Furui was, after all, the alterform of a
dragon, one of the most intelligent and feared creatures on All of Algoron.
Perhaps he was the perfect candidate after all.

'Alright. But you'll need more than just you. You will be responsible for
the recruitment and management of your security staff. Choose them well.
And I want regular updates and statistics. I want Ixi-curity to be of
paramount effectiveness to the people of Mart-Town. '

'I'm not naming it 'Ixi-curity'! '' Furui spat back through a visible
grimace. ''I'll... I'll find a better name for it. You leave the rest to
me. Expect to hear from me very soon. '

Writer: Ixi'kweez

Date Mon Mar 30 23:22:41 2015

To All Althainia Arkane Nordmaar Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom imm rp Scorn Austinian Zandreya Ehl'din

Subject Defending the Tower ''(Interlude): Sharp Dressed Man'' (Chapter Three: Part Six )

'Well? What do you think? '

Furui scrutinized himself in the elongated, full-length mirror, as the
tailor quietly removed the last of the pins from his trousers and stepped
aside. He had certainly spared no expense when it came to his uniform,
woven of the finest silks, dyed to a sublime royal blue, tailored to his
every contour. It had to be just right. It needed to convey authority. It
needed to allow for maximum movement. It needed to garner attention and

His jacket was adorned by golden epaulettes on each shoulder, gold buttons
down the middle, gold cufflinks on each wrist. A gold bead ran the length
of each trouser leg, leading down to ebony black shoes adorned with gold
buckles. Across his chest, was draped an ornamental sash, reading ' S H E R
R I F F '. He grabbed his oaken staff from the holster behind his back, its
ends pristinely capped in sapphire, and firmly placed one end on the ground.
He flashed a smile to himself in the mirror.

Furui had to hand it to the tailor. He looked damn good.

'I'll take them. '

Reaching down to the floor, Furui grabbed a small sack from his satchel,
tossing it to the tailor.

'That should cover this one, and a dozen others, less All the gold finery.
I will contact you in a couple of days. Thank you for your prompt service.
No need to box it up. I'll wear it out. '

With that, the newly named Sherriff of Mart-Town turned on his brand new
heel and exited onto Avenue 'C'. The nearby townspeople turned to regard
what was apparently their new Sherriff, the sash making it nearly impossible
to think otherwise. Furui flashed a toothy smile to the crowd.

'As you were, friends! Nothing to see here! '

The Sherriff descended the stairs onto the street proper, and made his way
casually down the avenue, keeping an eye on the goings-on around him.

-''Hey! You kids stop rough housing by those carts!''-
-''Afternoon, madam!''-
-''For me? Oh, no. I insist on paying!''-

''Yes, yes. This will do quite nicely.'', the Sherriff mused to

Writer: Lachlan

Date Tue Mar 31 03:41:09 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Tue Mar 31 15:35:31 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Tue Mar 31 19:52:14 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Tue Mar 31 19:52:26 2015

Writer: Jarlebanke

Date Tue Mar 31 19:53:03 2015

Writer: Zypher

Date Tue Mar 31 20:26:47 2015

Writer: Zypher

Date Tue Mar 31 20:26:55 2015

Writer: Zypher

Date Tue Mar 31 20:27:01 2015

Writer: Zypher

Date Tue Mar 31 20:27:10 2015

Writer: Zypher

Date Tue Mar 31 20:27:13 2015

Writer: Liviya

Date Tue Mar 31 22:21:15 2015

To Necrucifer All ( Imm Admin Religion )

Subject The Prophecy

'Someday, the Master will test me by commanding me to kill you. When He
does, I will not be able to hesitate, not even for a second.

She had said it thirty years ago. Before he had left her for Lindella.
Before Sange was born. Before they knew which of their gods would intervene
first in their relationship. Before they knew the trials and struggles both
of them would endure for the grave sin of being with the other.

Damerus had frowned at her. 'How do you know?'

'It is the most common test of loyalty given in the Darkness,' she had
replied. 'I've seen it dozens of times.' She pursed her lips then. 'Dark
couples tend to survive it. The god does not truly intend the partner to
die, only to test the willingness of the faithful to kill. The victim tends
to forgive, and the relationship goes on. Could you forgive it?'

Damerus had looked at her with confusion, and given an answer that was truthful
but not helpful: 'I don't know.'

But even as Liviya had asked him that question, she had known it would be
different. Her partner was of the Light. Necrucifer would not spare him. It
would take Nadrik's own intervention to preserve his life, and Liviya did
not dare approach the command she had been given with the hope that it
would not truly mean Damerus's death.

Talmont had presented her an alternative that wasn't really an alternative
at all, converting him. As if she hadn't tried for three decades to do it.
As if she hadn't nurtured every seed of Darkness she had ever seen in him,
only to have him clip the bud before it blossomed. There was no chance of
him becoming a Necruciferian. His hatred of her Master was personal and deep.
She had tried to nudge him toward Mencius instead, but he did not recognize
his own Evil nature, that the things he wished upon his enemies were not
justice, but vengeance.

As far as Liviya was concerned, Damerus was a man who was Good entirely
because he was too stubborn to realize he was Evil. Nadrik didn't know it
either, or didn't care. Now that stubbornness would cost him his life, and
it would be the mother of seven of his children who delivered the blow.

She had been steeling herself for the day that was coming for three decades
now. She knew she could do it. She knew she wouldn't hesitate. But as she laid
in his arms for what could be the last time, she watched him sleep in the
peaceful comfort and familiarity of her own embrace.

She couldn't speak it aloud. She couldn't take the risk. But she thought it
loudly at him: 'I hope you remember, my love. I hope you know I warned you.'

Writer: Jarlebanke

Date Wed Apr 1 01:21:32 2015

Writer: Ayzrael

Date Wed Apr 1 03:34:09 2015

To Abaddon ( All )

Subject An Idle Walk (I)

The wind did not whisper this afternoon, indeed, the entire forest was
eerily silent, as if time had suddenly come to a stop. There was no song of
the bird to greet the weary traveler, no idle chatter of squirrel to
announce his prescence. Of course, it did not help that this particular
traveler knew how to step without so much as a sound - but that was not it.
No, he thought to himself as he continued through the leafy green wilderness
- this was something more.

Lifting his cerulean eyes skywards, the man thought back on the events that
brought him here. They came easily now - though that made the fact of their
bearing no less easier. All he could do now was chuckle at his own idiocy -
the strappings of youth, the failings of bad habits, he could claim any
excuse, but none was sufficient, not for him. So lost in thought was the
man that he did not hear the snapping of branches and the rustle of leaves
that announced the prescence of another - indeed it was not until the woman
was nearly upon him, seemingly lost in her own thoughts that he snapped out
of his own as the pair nearly collided.


The loudness of the shriek caused the man to wince as it shattered the
otherwise silence of the forest. He watched as the hooded woman leapt back,
her hands fumbling within the folds of an evergreen cloak which seemed far
too large for her person. He regarded her with amusement, not moving, his
head cocked to the left as he beheld her awkward movements. "I shall wait
here while you search for whatever it is you seek." He spoke in an amused

His voice caused her to look up at him, her hazel eyes sparkling in the
sunlight that managed to penetrate the leaves of the trees high above.
"Ss... Sttay back!" She declared in a tiny voice that caused the man to
smile wider. Her fumbling fingers had finaly sought what she desired, and
into the glistening light the blade of a small hunting knife came into view.
Upon seeing this, the man took a step back, raising his hands innocently.
"Who would have thought a simple walk through the forests would result in an
untimely death at the hands of a rabbit sticker..."

The amusement in his voice was lost upon the girl who took a defiant step
forward, the hilt of the blade clenched in both shaking hands. "I don't
have anything of value, I merely seek to be on my way!" The woman said, her
voice quivering almost as much as the blade held between her digits, the
blood rushing to her ivory cheeks as she beheld the stranger before her.

"Well now, that makes two of us."

Writer: Reagan

Date Wed Apr 1 09:07:20 2015

Writer: Saelaira

Date Wed Apr 1 20:35:43 2015

Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu Apr 2 01:18:51 2015

To All althainia arkane imm rp

Subject Catharsis

He crouched, blades bared and still bloody, staring out from his hiding
place at the yeti that ambled through the forest. He knew these foes were
pushing the very limits of his abilities, but whether it was the rage
burning in his heart or the alcohol still burning through his veins, he
neither knew nor cared.

He wasn't entirely sure why he was so upset about it. It wasn't like
anything bad had truly come of it. In the end, things worked out, and the
only real harm done was that he'd been left to play the part of the fool,
standing at attention like some motionless drone, waiting for official
sanction before acting.

"Now you're really pissing me off! "

The words, and the glare that followed them, still burned brightly in his
mind's eye. Perhaps that was what bothered him the most... Not the
inaction, not the feeling of embarassment he'd felt enduring the stares of
the gathered military men, but the feeling of hostility he'd gotten from
that simple phrase, that one look. And yet, as if to counter it, his
justification came back along, defending him from those feelings.

"... It's a little girl, Sir. "

He was inwardly glad that his action... Or rather, inaction in the face of
necessity... Hadn't caused any lasting harm. And, he supposed, he couldn't
be truly blamed for his actions. After all, he was only a guard, a
rank-and-file soldier. It wasn't his place to act without orders. Yet he
cursed himself All the same, both for his lack of conviction and for his
naivete. Perhaps he'd made a mistake.

"Now you're really pissing me off! "

The words burned through his mind again. With a snarl, he gripped his
blades tightly, preparing to spring his trap upon his unsuspecting foe. He
felt the subtle flickerings of the protective magics surrounding him. He
knew that those flickerings foretold the end of the spell, and that he
didn't have the strength within him to replenish them. He knew that without
them, this battle would be grueling, perhaps even truly dangerous.

He grinned, in spite of himself. Good. Maybe he'd find an answer in pain
that he didn't find in conversation or at the bottom of an empty glass.
Maybe the pain would bring him some catharsis.

He sprung from hiding, his foe howling in alarm at the sudden assault before
it turned, the sheer mass of the beast, the wickedly sharp teeth enough to
cower many other men, some stronger than him.

His foe was faster to react than he'd anticipated. The advantage of
surprise was lost.

Perhaps this battle would bring him catharsis in death.

He wasn't sure he cared.

Writer: Nierwyld

Date Thu Apr 2 01:40:19 2015

To All Conclave White_Robes Imm RP Atlantos

Subject Tales of the Scurvy Buzzard : Finding What's Lost

He flitted from tree to tree, the humidity and heat soaking into his
clothes and bones. A welcoming feeling. He missed Tropica, even if he did
get kicked out of his Tree. Tropica was home and he wanted it back. Magic
could only take him so far, though. It was time to find his ship.

Easier said than done, though. He'd spent the past few months just looking
for a scent. Flitting between the Cove and Haven. Who would have thought
that it was from Arkane, of All places, that he'd run into an old sailing


Nierwyld flitted in through the open doors of the Fellowship. Stunk like
stale beer and stagnant urine. Must have been a crowd last night. His
wings beat the air quickly, his eyes scanning around, looking for the old

A woman in the corner blew her nose twice then spit into her cup. There it

A sigh and Nierwyld flit over to it, landing on the table, 'I hope you don't
expect me to drink that now.. And who the hell came up with these signs?!

The lady guffawed. 'Ugly heffer, ' Nierwyld thought. Then he noticed the
beard. It wasn't a true woman. 'Still.. Ugly heffer' he mused as he sat
down on the table top.

"Alright you. Talk. What's the information you got for me? "

Slowly, the man(woman) leaned forward. 'Jus' ye wait, buzzard... Ye be
payin' me more fer it, I be reckonin'

Grumbling Nierwyld stood up and uttered a few words under his breath, at
once the woman(man) looked dazed and unfocused. "I learned a few things, ye
snot bubble on a trolls arse. Ye'll give me what I want to know, don't
worry about it

The man(woman) nodded and uttered a single word, 'Gindlon'

Writer: Jarlebanke

Date Thu Apr 2 11:07:19 2015

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Thu Apr 2 14:58:17 2015

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Thu Apr 2 15:09:58 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Thu Apr 2 17:23:15 2015

Writer: Devlin
Date Fri Apr 3 01:12:47 2015

Writer: Cieran
Date Fri Apr 3 11:49:04 2015

Writer: Cieran
Date Fri Apr 3 11:50:40 2015

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Fri Apr 3 12:10:03 2015

Writer: Trylum
Date Fri Apr 3 20:17:09 2015

Writer: Niabi
Date Sat Apr 4 09:12:01 2015

Writer: Takoda
Date Sat Apr 4 10:47:07 2015

Writer: Reagan
Date Sat Apr 4 11:46:50 2015

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Sat Apr 4 12:22:02 2015

Writer: Laleina
Date Sat Apr 4 20:46:22 2015

To All Verminasia Imm RP

Subject Returning Home

Laleina had spent to much time mourning the loss of her beloved husband,
much to much time. She had walked the desert, sailed on a ship to Arkania,
walked the woods for a bit, and finally found her way back home and to a
very familiar voice. Wyltte was one of her long lost friends, or she
thought, she was so happy to hear he was home and even happier that he was
the one who called her home. They caught up on old times and bid each other
a goodnight before taking their rest.

She awoke the next morn to the most beautiful thunderstorm she had ever
seen, lightning shooting threw the sky with a vengeance, and the rain
falling so hard it made made her smile widely. How she loved beautifully
gloomy days like this. She slowly walked away from the window, not wanting
to, and started getting dressed for the day. Her gown of choice that day
was a deep blue, perfect color for the perfect day, the neckline in black
lace, her sleeves down to her wrists, and a pair of deep blue heels.

Laleina went to the door, grabbed her parasol, and went out the door to
start the new day. As she walked the streets of Verminasia she smiled, the
storm had her in a great mood and being back was as if she had never left.
All the people she had known were basically gone, only a few that she
remembered were still about but yet not often. Ulys, Wyltte, Marcaus,
Liviya, and Anezka were just a few.

She made her way from the Stronghold, through the kingdom, and to Drakkara's
Temple with her war wolf Damian at her side, as he has always been, said her
morning prayers, and sat there thanking Drakkara for calling her home.

Writer: Zola
Date Sun Apr 5 15:33:54 2015

To All Bloodlust Abaddon Verminasia Dfedor Fatale

Subject X Laying the Foundation (1of4) X

The Blessed Blue Rose Orphanage.

Occupying a stretch of land in the southernmost region of Althainia, it
wasn't particularly well known, but it was a reasonably pleasant place. One
could see the young children playing in the yards
now, hoping to get in some
time in the sun before the clouds overhead became a storm, as they seemed
intent on doing.

None of them, nor their caretakers, paid any attention to Zola.

He was not dressed in his customary robes and hood, nor the beaked mask of a
plague doctor that felt more and more like his true face than his actual
face. Instead, he might have been
anyone, so plain and non-descript he
looked. Perhaps a bit pale and haggard, his hair a rat's nest and with many
bags under his eyes from sleepless nights, but those same eyes glowed with
an inner
fire as he watched the orphans play. None would recognize him as
the Deathscythe. Hell, half of his own colleagues were still convinced he
was a woman behind the mask. And some of his enemies weren't even sure he
was human.

Visitors were uncommon at the Orphanage but not unheard of. None paid him
the slightest bit of attention as they went about their daily lives. But
Zola had eyes only for the children, ignoring their
guardians as they ran to
and fro. So lost, so blind, so sickeningly innocent. They pranced about in
the grass and played with their toys, unable to grasp the reality just
beneath the surface. The truth
of the world that the Lord of Murder had
shown Zola when he'd been little older than they were now.

He reached behind the nearby oak tree and plucked his scythe from it's
resting place against the bark, conjuring a hellfire to run across the
blade. It was time to get started.

Writer: Zola

Date Sun Apr 5 15:35:06 2015

To All Bloodlust Abaddon Verminasia Dfedor Fatale

Subject X Laying the Foundation (2of4) X

Blood splattered along the walls as another caretaker was slain, their
body cleaved in half by his flaming scythe. That made for at least eleven
of them, almost the entire staff.

And yet, Zola spared the children. Though many were splattered by blood, he
did not lay a finger upon them. Some were shrieking like banshees at the
carnage, others were deathly silent, unable
or unwilling to process the
scene in front of them. A few tried to flee, he let them.

Finally, there was but one adult left alive, and as Zola watched in some
amusement, the plump, elderly matron of the orphanage tried to interpose
herself between him and a trio of young girls, intent
on protecting them.
How sickeningly noble.

It took virtually no effort to subdue her, grabbing a fistful of her grayed
hair and yanking her to his side, twisting her head thus and holding his
scythe out, the sharp edged pressed to her
neck. The eldery matron stilled
instantly, recognizing the unspoken threat.

Zola turned his gaze to the children. Orphans, like he'd once been.
Nameless, homeless, directionless. What might become of them in the years
and decades to come, especially now
that their home was gone and their
caretakers All dead? Would they themselves perish on the streets... Find
new homes with loving families... Or would some of them embrace the truth,
as he had?

He decided to leave them with a little wisdom.

"Mark this day well, children, " he spoke soothingly. "This day did death
come into your lives. But it does not come for you just yet. This is no
mercy... This is a challenge. Rise up, and claim your own futures. Before
the day when the reaper comes for you again.

His scythe cut a slow but menacing streak through the air, passing just over
their heads, as Zola dragged the sole loving adult towards the doors,
leaving the blood and carnage behind. The children
might remember his face,
but they would not know who he was. But they would know what he was.

A messenger.

Writer: Zola

Date Sun Apr 5 15:36:29 2015

To All Bloodlust Abaddon Verminasia Dfedor Fatale

Subject X Laying the Foundation (3of4) X

He dragged her for hours, into the trackless forest, through the
sickening swamps, over the foggy hills. Struggle though the matron did,
Zola's grip was like folded steel, impossible
to break. Finally, however,
their trip seemed to be at an end. He threw her roughly to the ground.

This hillside was barren, though in the distance they could see Abaddon
where the sun was setting, painting the sky an ominous shade of red as
shadows grew ever longer. The only marker was a
tall, towering structure of
polished obsidian. An obelisk. And behind it...

... Was an open grave.

"No! " screamed the matron, realizing her plight. She turned to flee, but
he grabbed her almost as an afterthought, tightening his grip on her
shoulder. Had she been in her prime, she
might have held a slim chance of
escape, but years of taking care of so many unappreciated children had left
her withered and weak. She could do naught but pound helplessly at his arm,
to be free. Suddenly, she abruptly stopped. The light must have
fallen on his features just so, because she seemed to suddenly recognize

"I remember you... " she whispered, scarcely daring to believe it. "You
were that boy... The one who killed another for a loaf of bread! You could
have shared, there was more than enough to go around!

Not true, he thought, turning to glare at her. There was only ever enough
for some, the weak went hungry, the strong fed on what they could. She,
like so many others, had turned a blind eye to it all, but
he'd killed that
boy and that stale bread had been the tastiest thing he'd ever eaten, before
or since.

"You don't understand, " he rasped, tightening his grip until the matron was
positive Zola was going to snap a bone. "You never understood. I learned
the truth. The truth of reality. Of existence itself. And I am going to
ensure everyone sees it. Starting with you, and then on to the children. "

Writer: Zola

Date Sun Apr 5 15:40:51 2015

To All Bloodlust Abaddon Verminasia Dfedor Fatale

Subject X Laying the Foundation (4of4) X

Zola pulled the matron along, dragging her over to the grave. She
struggled and squirmed in Zola's grasp but could do nothing to fight him as
he shoved her backwards into the gaping maw in the
earth. She fell
headfirst into the open coffin, nearly breaking her neck as she landed hard.
But no... That would be far too quick.

"No! No please! You can't do t-! " she screamed as he sealed the coffin
shut, ignoring her pleas for mercy. Her muffled pleas continued as she
banged on the coffin from the inside, trying
to get it out. He barely
reacted to the noise, ignoring it as he would the wind on his bare face, and
simply picked up his shovel and a moundful of dirt, and tossed it into the
grave. And then another, and then still more.

In virtually no time the grave was filled. Zola swung his shovel like a
sword, flicking the grimy dirt from it, and sheathed it at his side, hooking
the tool at his belt.

"Consider this only the beginning, Lord of Murder, " he intoned, beginning a
prayer before the filled grave. "This place shall become a sanctuary to
your assassins and your killers. I lay now the foundation not only with
stones, but with true murderous intent.

He cast his gaze over the grave, hatred swelling in his heart. "With the
pain, the fear, the suffering of this woman. I ask you to condemn her soul
to an eternity of misery.

Dark stormclouds began to gather overhead, and the air was thick with the
smell of ozone as thunder boomed in the distance. "This will be the first
of many! Every city will one day
hold such hallowed grounds. The entire
world will know your divine truth, Fatale!

The name of his deity seemed to strike a chord, for a bolt of lightning
crackled overhead.

"Fatale be praised! " Zola shouted to the heavens above, and lightning
answered again, a boom of thunder following as the storm clouds raged above

Writer: Reagan

Date Sun Apr 5 21:53:26 2015

Writer: Jarlebanke

Date Mon Apr 6 00:05:55 2015

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Mon Apr 6 07:28:40 2015

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Tue Apr 7 01:36:34 2015

Writer: Aiera

Date Tue Apr 7 12:32:41 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Tue Apr 7 12:45:38 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Tue Apr 7 12:48:43 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Tue Apr 7 13:08:47 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Tue Apr 7 13:08:51 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Tue Apr 7 13:10:40 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Tue Apr 7 13:10:48 2015

Writer: Arravis

Date Tue Apr 7 19:58:29 2015

To All Mercerion Althainia ( Imm Scorn RP )

Subject Snake Eyes

It didnt count as stealing if he donated All the winnings, right? The
world had changed around him and Arravis found that his place in the world
was in the air. Certainly he was no longer the man he once was. He didnt
command Althainias navy. He didnt hold the love of those he once held dear.
And, must unsettling of all, he was comfortable with All of that. This was
a clean slate, set before him to forge the next chapter in his legacy.
Would he leave Althainia? Enter the clans and gamble his life away? He had
always been quick to take risks. Right now, he was entertaining himself
with cheap thrills and small risks in the back alleys of Arkane.

A grizzled ogre interrupts Arravis thoughts, snatching his collar in his
fist and lifting Arravis off the ground. Let me see those dice. Arravis
could feel the ogres hot breath on his face as he offers the ogre an
innocent smile. Focusing on the weight of the dice in his hand, he reached
out with his mind and sent them to his bag, replacing them with a different

Of course, is there a problem? Arravis offers the half-ogre the dice,
frowning in irritation as they are quickly snatched from his hand and he is
tossed to the ground. The ogre inspects the dice closely, picking them up
and dropping them several times before grunting in irritation and throwing
the dice at Arravis with far more vigor than appropriate. Arravis easily
snatches the incoming dice, offering a polite nod. Care to play again?
Come on, double or nothing!

Arravis grins slightly, switching the dice again as the ogre nods in
agreement. He rolls the familiar weight in his hands as his future winnings
are places on the ground in front of him. As Arravis begins to toss the
dice, they briefly disappear and are quickly replaced. His eyes widen as
the dice leave his hand, each landing solidly with a single pip staring back
at him. A rough laugh errupts from his opponent.

Rough bit of luck. A familiar voice says from behind Arravis, mild
amusement obvious. Arravis unhooks a sack of gold from his pouch and tosses
it wordlessly in front of him, turning to face the voice. Mercerion stands
with his hands crossed in front of him, offering Arravis a disapproving
stare. Arravis slides past Mercerion, making his way out of the alley and
waiting until they were out of earshot of the ogre.

Arravis shoots Mercerion an irritated glare. Snake eyes? Really? I bet
you thought that was sooo clever, didn' you?

Mercerion smirks in satisfaction. I rather thought so. Is this really what
you intend to do with your life? You really should-

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, I- Arravis sighs. Look, if I promise to go,
will you drop it and let me be for now?


Yeah.... I figured.

Writer: Skylla

Date Tue Apr 7 22:10:06 2015

Writer: Vaedryn

Date Wed Apr 8 23:44:47 2015

Writer: Liviya

Date Wed Apr 8 23:48:36 2015

To Arkane Verminasia Damerus Necrucifer All ( Imm Religion )

Subject The Girl with the Flowery Hair

The numbness and apathy lingered with Liviya for hours.

There was no elation, no pride in the Cardinal's robes she now
wore. A thing she had wanted so badly, and then had given up on,
was now hers, and there wasn't an ounce of her that cared.

She'd been nearly casual with Talmont, and glib with Arthais as
he had led her down to the cells. The same kind of facade that
every person wore when death happened inside. She summoned
elementals for company. Whispered on the wind to friends and
enemies. Hunted and ate rats for sport. She passed the time.

It was when she decided to read by the pale light of her black
flame candle that the levy broke. There, amid tenets and texts,
was the text of the song he had written for her All those years
ago. She took out the parchment and read the words.

At first, they too meant nothing, her lips moving without sound as
her eyes passed across the words.

'On a cool summers day, in the grass do I lay, beside the girl with
the flowery hair.'

Then, she began to whisper them.

'Joy do I know, in the warmth and the glow, of the sunshine that we

She closed her eyes for a moment. There it was, that endless optimism
that somehow coexisted with a deeply cynical and distrusting nature.
Her voice gained volume as she read on.

'With her eyes on me, my soul she could see, unguarded for her to know.'

And there it was. The crack in her shell. She began to sing in a soft
and broken voice, following the melody of the song she knew so well,
that he had sung to her as a tribute, and as a lullaby, and even mixed
in with a song of healing as she had lain broken in his arms.

'Will she pay me in kind, her trust to be mine?'

Her voice wavered, and the first tear spilled down her cheek.

'Love we could grow, if the trust she will sow, the girl with the flowery

Trust. From the beginning, he had wanted to share it with her. At the
end, he didn't and never had.

'But the walls and the moat do castle her heart; to swim and to scale,
that love might prevail?'

And she sank to the floor in her cell in the Arkanian prison, tears hot
and salty as they ran onto her lips. She would sing the song many more
times through the night, each time tearing into her, filling her with a
pain she had no word for. Promising a future that no longer existed for
a title she didn't give a damn about.

'These things, I do not know.'

Writer: Ellminaidra

Date Thu Apr 9 04:26:32 2015

Writer: Cassioppia

Date Thu Apr 9 14:03:08 2015

Writer: Aynira

Date Thu Apr 9 15:50:21 2015

Writer: Aynira

Date Thu Apr 9 15:52:00 2015

Writer: Wyltte

Date Thu Apr 9 17:39:47 2015

To All Necrucifer IMM Religion

Subject The Cruel Passage of Time

Owl song echoed through them misty Blackwoods, only to be silenced by the
gentle crackling from the fire at Wyltte's campsight. He retreated to the
Blackwoods a few evenings ago, mentally exhausted from spending several
evenings pouring through documents to complete his land surveys of the
kingdom. Here is where he chose to recharge, connect to the land and enjoy
the blissful absence of conversation.

He had been feeling more himself in Verminasia as of late, striking up
conversations with friends he has known longer than he cares to admit. They
spoke of his wild barbarian days, his arrival to Verminasia and the work he
did with the Deathwatch. He spoke of being thrown into the temple wall by
the messenger of Mencius when he decided to seek Necrucifer's faith, the
stones cracking from the force of his body slamming into it. It seemed so
far away now.

A gentle breeze rustles through the leaves above Wyltte's head, and the
howling of wolves can be heard in the distance. He throws a few small
branches into the fire, the tiny ashes floating up into the bright evening
sky. Only the white moon could be seen, but it shone with intensity over
the land, sending shimmers of moonlight off in thousands of directions as it
hits the surface of the slow running river.

Wyltte strips off his tunic and pants and walks down the bank of the river
to stare at himself in the water. Looking back at him was a man of middle
age, the wear on his face starting to peek through the tough exterior he
spent the entirety of his life cultivating. He was still fit, and
thankfully avoided "Priest Gut", as he liked to call it. Too many of the
cloth get lazy from pouring over documents and forgetting to integrate
themselves into nature.

He was still strong, but the fine mass of knotted muscle he once had did not
ripple as it used to with his every movement. His goatee had grown out to
be less refined, and many more gray hairs can be seen mixed into the
chestnut follicles. Wyltte wades into the water, the chilly rush of water
over his body raising the hairs on his arm.

Cupping his hands and filling them with the cool liquid, he dashes handsful
over his face and hair, looking down at the man staring up at him from the
rippling waters. He traces one finger over the scar on the eye that was
restored to him by the Master's servant, Lazerus Talmont. Looking at
himself, there was no denying it. He was starting to age, and it was
finally showing.

Finishing his path, Wyltte saunters up the bank to retrieve his clothes,
warming by the fire before placing them back on. His mind started to drift
to his own mortality.

Time passes different in Algoron. Some never seem to age, some age quickly.
The fact remains though, he is of human blood. There was nothing special
about him that would extend his life. There is nothing to stem the tide of
his death in his future. He already speaks of the many gone to his elven
friends, and elven family members of the Kayen line. They will long outlive
him, and he will fade into obscurity as many have done before him.

Placing on his tunic and trousers, Wyltte sits down on a log and stares deep
into the flames, placing a few more smaller logs to keep the hungry flame

He had never married, never build his own residence, never produced children
to keep the Kayen line going. He had never found that right combination
that brought him contentment in a relationship, and in not doing so buried
himself in his work. Even then, he was aging. Was it too late? Most
likely. He was never a fool, nor would rush into anything. Many have
tried, but there was always something missing. Something he couldn't put a
finger on. Many wanted him just for his name, to increase their own social
status. He was not going to be some trophy, nor would he sire a plethora of
children just to ensure his name lives on.

He was ultimately going to die, and there was nothing anyone could do about

Writer: Laleina

Date Thu Apr 9 20:05:52 2015

To All Imm RP

Subject A Life Long Lost

By now she was sure they would have. Children? A possibility. But at
this point, that was All mute. She looked down at the water off the
Drakkara Bridge as she sighed sadly. She had nothing to show for All her
years of life, no home, no children, no savings, nothing. She felt like a
total failure. Damian looked up at her and whined, he knew she was upset
and tried to get her attention.

She looked down at her faithful companion, the only lifelong friend she had
left and scratched him behind the ears. She snapped her fingers and he knew
she was on the move. She walked towards the docks just wanting to get away
for a while, her mind still wondering if she would ever find someone to
share her life with or would she spend the rest of her life with her wolf
companion yet feeling alone.

She walked through the woods with her wolf by her side trying not to think,
not to remember, not to feel. She could not shake the intense feeling of
loss and heaviness in her heart. She had prayed so hard for his return but
it was to no avail, he was gone from this life.

She reached Arkane Town Center and headed west towards the docks, as she
came to the docks she found a nice and quiet place to sit as she watched the
ships come and go, after a while tears welled in her eyes. Damian
approached her and set his head in her lap as she burst into tears
remembering how Keal'shar had left her never to return....

Writer: Reagan
Date Thu Apr 9 22:12:45 2015

Writer: Caecius
Date Fri Apr 10 17:14:03 2015

Writer: Aliera
Date Fri Apr 10 22:32:44 2015

Writer: Aliera
Date Fri Apr 10 22:37:56 2015

Writer: Valdarion
Date Fri Apr 10 22:55:00 2015

Writer: Valdarion
Date Fri Apr 10 23:03:34 2015

Writer: Valdarion
Date Fri Apr 10 23:10:56 2015

Writer: Jainie
Date Sat Apr 11 00:40:17 2015

Writer: Jainie
Date Sat Apr 11 01:59:31 2015

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Sat Apr 11 02:04:27 2015

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Sat Apr 11 02:04:53 2015

Writer: Jainie
Date Sat Apr 11 02:06:41 2015

Writer: Reagan
Date Sat Apr 11 18:26:28 2015

Writer: Gabhran
Date Sat Apr 11 20:15:10 2015

Writer: Jainie
Date Mon Apr 13 13:03:26 2015

Writer: Reagan
Date Mon Apr 13 13:27:06 2015

Writer: Megan
Date Mon Apr 13 13:54:38 2015

Writer: Reagan
Date Mon Apr 13 14:35:34 2015

Writer: Gabhran
Date Mon Apr 13 15:05:31 2015

Writer: Aliera
Date Mon Apr 13 15:48:59 2015

To Althainia Arkane All Imm Nadrik Rp Mercerion Liviya

Subject Justice for the Slain part 1

The Empress had slept long into the afternoon, only falling asleep and
then fitfully as the dawn began to brighten the world outside her chambers.
There was a stack of missives waiting by the door, one of the servants
already having come in and left them by the door for her to peruse upon
waking. Taking a seat in one of the chairs in her sitting room, Aliera sat
down and read the first, the markings of messengers from Arkane upon it, as
well as the seal of the Fel family, it could only be from one person. And,
reading over the lines, she was glad she was already sitting down.

The passing of Lord Damerus Firebeard of Arkane..

No, it was not possible. She had just seen him a few days ago, he was alive
and strong. Not well, and certainly not sound but he was alive, and
recovering. The wound had been healed she had even seen the mark herself.
Reading over the missive again, Aliera spoke to her Kingdom and closed
herself off from the world to process what she was reading.

Her denial quickly resolved to a burning anger that sent the few servants
left in her sitting room scurrying out the door to avoid being a target of
misplaced wrath as she stood, pacing the room. How dare she?! Alieras
irritation was palpable, the venom of anger in her words as she continued to
voice her frustration to both the Gods and her furniture. ... One who
follows the heart finds it will bleed. So too may a broken heart yield
bodily death...
The words on the parchment stood in a mockery of the man
lost. Spoken like a true Cardinal of Necrucifer... Quoting creeds of
Darkness while announcing the death of a servant of Goodness and Light.
low growl was issued from the Priestess as she continued to pace, the child
in her belly kicking in response to her stress and causing her to pause for
just a fraction of a moment. Glancing down she brought a hand to her
stomach, reassuring the child as she forced herself to calm slightly.

I should have asked him to Althainia when I last saw him... Gotten him to
leave that place. He never would have come though just I could not leave
Aliera sighed softly as she sat down in her chair again,
setting the missive aside finally and picking up the next, a summons for the
Church of Nadrik. Glancing over it she nodded resolutely, there was much to
speak about indeed... Murder had been done to one of their own, and justice
needed to be had.

Writer: Feronious

Date Mon Apr 13 17:43:03 2015

Writer: Krinthos

Date Mon Apr 13 22:20:27 2015

Writer: Aliera
Date Tue Apr 14 00:20:02 2015

Writer: Aliera
Date Tue Apr 14 00:24:36 2015

Writer: Rellinath
Date Tue Apr 14 07:58:20 2015

To All althainia ulrog imm RP

Subject Terror in the night, pt. 1

As amusing as this little gathering is, this one did not come for them...

He stood, still and calm, eyes tightly sealed amidst the stench and the
panic, All senses turned outward. Without his eyes to trick him, he could
focus on his other senses, senses that perhaps the creature could not evade,
could not fool. He could clearly smell the faint odor of peaches from the
Handmaiden, could hear the swish of cloth from the robes of some mage who
had arrived to assist them, the rattle of steel as weapons were drawn. He
could taste the staleness of the air, the bitter hint of sweat in it from
the collected Althainians. The eyes could be fooled, so easily...
Sometimes it was best not to rely on them at all.

Indeed, not for the Empress either...

It had moved, and he turned his head slightly to the side, ears tracking the
source of the whispered voice. It was a difficult task, among the other
ruckus in the room: the shouts, the clatter of weaponry, the rasp of steel
against leather, the nervous intakes of breath. But yet, he was able to
follow it, to lead it, to predict its movements. He had almost found it...
A little more, and perhaps...

They are irrelevant. Sacks of meat to be pushed aside.

THERE. He struck, eyes firmly sealed, at the whispered voice. He felt his
blade bite into something, giving some resistance before the tip plunged
home. He smiled in grim satisfaction as the blade bit deeply, the lessening
resistance to the thrust indicating that the victim had been run through.

And then he heard the scream. The cries of horror from the others.

His eyes snapped open. He stood before the Empress, his blade plunged
through her belly. All around him, his compatriots, his fellow Althainians
stood, their expressions revealing horror, revulsion, or sheer outrage.
Blades once seeking the monster that tormented them were now trained on him
with killing intent. Behind him, a gloating voice snickered in his ear,
thanking him for making it oh so easy, making the hair on the back of his
neck stand up on end. Panic overtook him. He turned to flee, and stopped,
staring in horror at the fiend before him. It lunged at him, wicked fangs
glinting in the dim light.


Writer: Rellinath

Date Tue Apr 14 08:07:33 2015

To All althainia ulrog imm RP

Subject Terror in the night, pt. 2

He gasped in horror, sitting bolt upright in bed, a cold sweat drenching
his bedclothing, making it stick to him uncomfortably. A hand went
instinctively for his waist, for the comfortable feeling of a swordhilt, but
found nothing but sweat-dampened sheets. He sat there, breathing ragged and
shallow from terror, trying to force his traitorous body to calm, realizing
the truth of the nightmare. But it was a nightmare that could have been all
too real, had he followed through on his intended course in Dolund'ir two
nights prior.

He trusted his own instincts enough to strike blindly at a target. Indeed,
a part of his training had revolved around honing that ability, to aim
strikes at a target unseen, to predict the angles of attack that an enemy
would use to strike at him so that he could defend against blades his eyes
could not see. But, as he had stood there, eyes sealed, ears hunting for
any trace of the demon, another part of his mind had taken over, a part that
had become concerned with the well-being of others, of those in the room
around him. Of his friends, his Empress. There were too many people in the
room for him to be certain of a blind strike, and there was the haunting
possibility that the fiend was not where the whispered voices made him
appear to be. The eyes could be tricked, but then again, so could the ears.
Indeed, if the fiend was smart enoug to realize what he was about, it could
have played on that and made his nightmare a reality.

In the end, he had sheathed his blades, realizing full well his impotence in
that situation. In the gloom, the shadow, this foe was beyond him, perhaps
even beyond All of them combined. But the fiend was confident. It was
gloating in its victory. It was prideful. It was vain.

And it would eventually make a mistake. There would come a time that it
would strike again, but not from the gloom and the shadow, but from a locale
more poorly suited to its nature.

And Rellinath would be there, blades bared and hungry, his allies at his
side, to strike the monster down once and for all, to end the threat to the
Empire for good.

He fell back to his bed, but sleep would not find him again this night, as
it had evaded him the night before, and would continue to evade him for the
next week. He crawled out of his bed, eyes drowsy and muscles haggard from
exhaustion. But night was falling... The demon's time. And someone had to
patrol the city to ensure it didn't seek more sport among the citizens of
the Empire.

He pulled on his boots and slipped quietly through the door.

Writer: Gabhran
Date Tue Apr 14 18:02:27 2015

Writer: Liviya
Date Tue Apr 14 18:51:42 2015

To Arkane Verminasia Shadow Nadir Lindella Darela Lirexa Lowenir Arimathea Alparslan Traice Ozleust All ( Imm Religion Necrucifer )

Subject The Mother of Thousands

Liviya had never felt pain in her life like she felt now.

Broken in her bed, bruises covering her body and a gash in her head that still
wept the occasional trickle of blood onto her pillow, there was nothing in her
head but the agony in her body. She didn't know yet how many bones were broken.
She didn't know yet if she would be able to walk again, or if the wounds would
make her feel to be the old woman she was once they settled in.

There would be a time of struggle, once her head cleared. So much of the theology
she had taught based on her personal experience was now, seemingly, negated. It
would take a while to unknot it all. Fortunately, she had a whole life ahead of
her to work it All out.

Talmont expected her to die, which was precisely the reason she wouldn't do it.

She didn't have the strength to heal her own wounds proactively. Instead, she laid
in her bed, tended to by constant visitors, who also could not heal her, but gave
her food and drink and, most importantly, reason to live.

All the world seemed to think it had the right to an opinion on the number of
children she had, or at the very least on their parentage. Now, as she fought for
her life, she was grateful for each of them as they tended to her. Lowenir, with
his standoffish, utilitarian concern, making brief visits to bring food and drink.
Arimathea, with her teary clinging to her mother's side. Alparslan, with his
managerial dutifulness, seeing the other visitors in and out. Lirexa, a determined
child who tended dutifully to her mother with bowls of broth, unhindered by her
unseeing eyes. The others, showing their care- and their devotion- in their own

As much as it seemed Necrucifer- or at least, His Avatar- had tried to beat it
out of her, it became apparent to Liviya as she laid in the bed that there was
immense power to be had in love. As her children and others- family, friends,
acquaintances- came to her bedside, she pondered the tendrils of interwoven
Darkness and Light that bound her to each one. There was love in them. Loyalty.
Compassion. Not a one came, outwardly at least, to gloat.

The pain took away her efforts to think on this. She could acknowledge it at only
the most shallow level as her mind fought for consciousness. There were so many
lessons to be had.

Yet right now, there was only one: to hell with everyone who condemned her choice
to be mother to many. Their devotion to her was more valuable than anything else
she possessed in the world.

Writer: Perrinn
Date Thu Apr 16 00:46:42 2015

Writer: Krinthos
Date Thu Apr 16 10:28:46 2015

Writer: Valdarion
Date Thu Apr 16 13:15:02 2015

Writer: Valdarion
Date Thu Apr 16 13:15:09 2015

Writer: Devlin
Date Thu Apr 16 13:43:52 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Thu Apr 16 14:13:35 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Thu Apr 16 14:27:40 2015

Writer: Gabhran
Date Thu Apr 16 14:57:19 2015

Writer: Reagan
Date Thu Apr 16 15:20:55 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Thu Apr 16 18:36:33 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Thu Apr 16 18:43:45 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Fri Apr 17 12:51:36 2015

Writer: Rikam
Date Fri Apr 17 15:10:00 2015

Writer: Rellinath
Date Fri Apr 17 16:36:28 2015

To All althainia nordmaar mahalia all

Subject Roots (pt. 1)

'Relly! '

The call came from across the meadow, the youth's ears perking up, catching
the faint voice on the breeze. He looked up and smiled to see one of his
sisters, Veranna, running across the field towards him, her twin Miranna
close behind. They closed the distance quickly, crouching down to see
whatever it was that the boy was so fascinated with.

'Ewwww! Is that a snake? That's disgusting, Relly, leave it alone! '

'No way Vera, it's cool! I'm gonna keep it! Pa will let me keep it! '

'Nuh uh! He won't let you keep a creepy thing like that! Wierdo! '

The boy scooped up the snake and held it out towards his sister, making an
exaggerated hiss sound. Veranna screamed, as only a little girl can scream,
and fell backwards into the grass, scrambling to get away from the serpent,
while Miranna giggled with glee at her sibling's torment. Her mirth quickly
dissipated when the snake was turned in her direction, her shriek of terror
cutting through the air like a knife.

'We'll get you for that, Relly! Beat him up, Vera! '

He took off, sprinting across the field, long legs keeping him well ahead of
his sisters until their cabin was in sight. He burst through the door,
slamming it shut behind him, breathless, then turned around at the sound of
footsteps behind him. He looked up at his father, who towered over him
although he wasn't of particularly large build, long greying hair and bushy
beard seeming always to quiver with mirth over something.

'Pa! Look what I found! Can I keep him? ' The youth displayed his trophy.

'Ah, let us have a look at him then, shall we my boy? Well, he certainly
looks harmless enough, but I think perhaps you had better put him back
outside where he belongs. It is not wise to keep one of Zandreya's children
captive for your own amusement. '

It had never struck the boy how odd that speech was, coming from the lips of
an old nomad. To him, that was just how people spoke. He'd never grown up
knowing anything else. In truth, many things about their life were far from
the average for people of nomadic heritage... Their speech, their manner of
dress, the larders stocked with All manner of foods and drink instead of the
simple, hardy fare of the plains. Even their cabin was out of place for his
people, a sturdy, warm building that served as their home through all
seasons, well-built and comfortable. But to the youth, this was how people
lived. He had no reason to consider it strange.

He couldn't remember the argument that'd made him run away. All he could
remember was that he'd had some fight with his sisters, and his father had
sided with them, and although he could not recall the details of what had
occurred after that, something about the whole ordeal had infurated him,
made him feel as if he had been betrayed by his entire family. He'd waited
until that evening, and then gathered his few belongings, his survival knife
and pack, had stolen a few weeks worth of supplies from the larder, and then
fled into the night, not looking back and not caring what happened to him or
to them. He hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.


Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Apr 17 16:52:10 2015

To All althainia nordmaar mahalia all

Subject Roots (pt. 2)

As he'd grown tall and strong, making his own way throughout the world,
he'd learned a few things about that past, things that had troubled him even
further and reinforced his decision to leave. The nomadic tribes from which
he had supposedly sprung were different than his family, and his manner of
speech was considered refined for one such as he, born of a commoner and
raised among field and forest. Though he had trouble with the written word,
speech came to him naturally, as did a connection with the wilds around him.
But he found that his connection to his family only weakened as the
realizations flooded through him... His father had hidden something from
him, something important, and though he was certain there must have been a
good reason this knowledge still stung the young man, and he had never
bothered to get back in touch with his father. He had learned in passing
that his sisters had moved from the plains to the relative civilization of
New Thalos, and he had stopped by once or twice to talk about times gone by,
but he'd never inquired as to what had happened to his father. At least, he
hadn't until recently...

'Do you have a surname, Rell? '

The simplicity of the question that Mahalia had asked him troubled him more
than perhaps it should have. He dwelled on it, long after they had parted
ways for the evening. He dwelled on it throughout the day as he tended to
the Empire's stables. He dwelled on it that evening during his patrols, his
companion Minah looking up at him through feline eyes that saw far more than
they should. And finally he had given in to his curiosity and found the
courage to ask his sister Veranna what had happened to his father.

The man, now grown and full of vigor and appreciation for life's joys,
revelling in his newfound engagement to the woman of his life, turned the
last corner of the small path through the forest. This is where Pa lived
now, Veranna had told him, though something in her eyes had troubled him.
He strode into the clearing, yelling at the top of his lungs so that his
father could hear him and welcome his son home.

'PA! '

He stopped, his voice echoing throughout the forest. He stared,
dumbfounded, at the empty clearing. His eyes fixated on the slab of stone
in the center of the grove. Dread crept over him, ice filling his veins, as
he walked forward and read, through eyes fast filling with tears, the

Here lies the body of Tippton McGregor, once long ago of Nordmaar, loving
father to his son Rellinath and his two daughters, Veranna and Miranna. May
Zandreya keep him to her side forevermore.

He didn't know how long he stood there. He didn't remember sinking to his
knees, or falling to the ground. He barely remembered how he'd gotten
there. But, at last, he pushed himself up and sat next to the grave, and he
spoke. He spoke to his father, for the first time in almost ten years. And
he told him of his life, of his trails through the wilds of Althainia, of
his journey to Arkania, of his first encounter with his beloved companion
Minah, of his settling in Arkane and his subsequent departure, and of his
return to the land of his birth as a citizen of the Empire. And finally, he
told him about Mahalia, the future daughter-in-law that he would never know.

'It's really a shame, Pa. You would have loved Hali. I wish I could have
introduced you... '

He rose to his feet, wiped a few last tears from his eyes, and slowly walked
back to the city. Behind him, he left not only his father, but the McGregor
family name. For although that may have been where he came from, it was
never who he was.

That name was not his to bear.


Writer: Szehl

Date Fri Apr 17 18:06:59 2015

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Sat Apr 18 00:49:46 2015

Writer: Ellminaidra

Date Sat Apr 18 03:28:40 2015

Writer: Mezlak

Date Sat Apr 18 08:41:30 2015

Writer: Mezlak

Date Sat Apr 18 09:18:19 2015

Writer: Shalrienne

Date Sat Apr 18 17:01:39 2015

Writer: Segovax
Date Sun Apr 19 23:38:03 2015

Writer: Segovax
Date Sun Apr 19 23:52:09 2015

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Mon Apr 20 01:27:27 2015

Writer: Perrinn
Date Tue Apr 21 00:10:52 2015

Writer: Jaidyn
Date Tue Apr 21 00:42:55 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Nordmaar Goes to War) (Part I of II)

The hooded figure of the nameless Skotkonung hunched down by the fire,
her attention on the floor. Splayed out before her were many smooth stones,
each carved with a Norse glyph. It was a long time before the cloaked form
made any sign of motion or sound, but when it did, she caught the viking
king off-guard with the abruptness with which she raised her head.

"The runes tell of a victory king Jaidyn. " came the voice from the depths
of the concealing cowl.

Situated on one knee, the minister gazed down at the spread stones and
stroked his chin, glancing up at the wizened old face as the woman
continued. "Nordmaar will prevail. "

Somehow Jaidyn found this less than reassuring. The womans tone was grave.
The minister waited and when she failed to speak, he frowned with
impatience. "Vhat? "

"The Gods favor Nordmaar, my king. But.. They warn of betrayal. In this,
their speech is cryptic. I see that one you trust completely will betray
you before this battle is over. The death rune hovers very near you. I...
Cannot see clearly what will happen to you, but there will be darkness and
great pain.

The minister took this news in stoic silence. His mind tumbled over the
possibilities. The minotaurs? Unlikely. Not impossible. Ganth had
nothing to gain by turning on their allies once the attack was over. One of
his own lieutenants? Again, unlikely... Assassination for advancement was
not a winning strategy in Nordmaar. Then, who? His thoughts were
interrupted by the womans continued speech.

"Raije is looking upon the city. You are not His follower. But He watches
over the battle with anticipation none the less. But my king... Austinian
the All-father will not involve Himself. He will not protect you from the
betrayal I see coming. No God watches your back this day.

"Then I vill just have to vatch it myself. I've heard enough. Ve vin.
That is vhat matters.
" Jaidyn stood, rising to his feet and pulling the
heavy white-fur mantled cloak around his heavily armored form. The old one
again dipped her head down, studying the runes and Jaidyn turned to go.

As he stepped out the crude tent he was greeted by two figures, one female
and the other male. Both saluted. Returning the salute, he turned and
addressed Marian Wallace first. "Is your job to be our eyes and ears. Keep
your units on our flanks and ahead of the main body at All times. Kill any
Yinn scouts you encounter. Is my intention to come up behind the siege
without being detected. Even if this proves impossible, do not allow the
main body to be flanked. Once we approach Ganth, you will attempt to locate
the Yinn that are controlling our people and report their position. DO NOT
attempt to engage them yourself. Vait for the main body. If is at all
practical, ve vill sneak up behind the siege, signal our attack to the
minotaur, and then strike at the yinn controllers. If not, ve vill be
focusing on drawing the captives into the tar pits, so be sure to report
their position as vell.

He turned to Kynthelig Wallace. "Your job is not going to be glamorous, but
is very important. You vill be in command of the rear guard. Make sure the
enemy does not somehow get behind us. Is very unlikely, but, is a
possibility ve must guard against. Once ve arrive, your people vill dig the
shallow pits and fill them vith tar. Conceal them vith a thin layer of
terrain so that they are invisible. Make extra damn sure the pits are not
connected... I don't vant some Yinnae setting our people on fire vith one
arrow! All of our people have blunt veapons as vell as sharp, and your
units vill be given ropes as vell. Once the captives are incapacitated make
sure they are tied up and led avay from the battle. You must get them to

(End of Part I of II)

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Tue Apr 21 00:54:36 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Nordmaar Goes to War) (Part I of II)

(Continuation from Part I)

The viking king turned and mounted his war horse. The animal was well
trained, although Jaidyn still felt vaguely uncomfortable. Secretly he
wished he was on the deck of a ship instead.

Giving the animal a light, guiding kick to the flanks, he road down the
forming ranks of highlanders and stopped at a prominent position in front of
the army.


Massive cheers erupted. The Nordmaarian battle cry could be heard echoing
through the streets of the city as swords and ax blades clatter against

"Each and every one of you has trained a life time for this day. Each and
every one of you has proven your discipline, your courage, and your
commitment to our homeland.

Jaidyn allowed his horse to carry him back and forth, up and down the main

"Ve march today not simply to save an ally. Not simply to defeat an age-old
enemy. Ve march to save the lives of our countrymen, our kin! Those are
your sons Nordmaar! Those are your daughters! Your sisters and brothers!
The yinn are controlling them vith foul magic, and ve are going to bring
them home!.

Jaidyn paused, and his expression was hard as steel.

"Ve are not going to march to the glorious sound of the pipes. No. Make no
mistake. Our people are hostages and ve must employ clever means to save
them. The yinn have a great advantage over us that ve must overcome. So ve
are going to come upon them silently. Each and every one of you vill carry
the battle song in your hearts, and know that once our people are safe,
every yinn that draws breath on the field vill die to highland steel!!! "

There was a cheer, and viking king allowed it play out.

"Each one of you knows the signals. You know your jobs and your unit

"Ve have come a long vay from vere ve started, a generation ago. I remember
a time vhen it vas unthinkable for viking to fight side by side vith celt.
Today, ve are brothers and sisters! One people, one Nation, one victory!
" The king raised his mailed fist as the wind blew his
cape out behind him

The cry was echoed across the entire army and a cacophony of sound washed
across the city. Jaidyn turned and gave the signal to march, and as one,
all sound died.

Silently, like ghosts on the wind, the army of Nordmaar moved out in battle
formations. Marching with perfectly trained precision towards its destiny.

Writer: Marian

Date Tue Apr 21 02:42:04 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Jaidyn Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer Cliath

Subject A Silent Approach

Marian wheeled her filly up short as the two figures approached,
breathing a soft sigh of relief as their forms matieralized into those of
two humans, though she did not completely relax until the two scouts hailed
her in hushed voices, muffled by the thick scarves they wore around their
faces. The freezing fog settled in the shallow bowl of the outlying area
was hell to ride through, though it made their job that much easier- finding
the enemy scouts, and silencing them before word of their arrival reached
the Yaenni forces. Indeed, she noted six Yaenni paws bouncing against the
flank of one of the riders' mounts, to her grim satisfaction. Puffs of
steam shot from the nose of her mare while she waited in the middle of the
path for the riders to come close enough to speak quietly with her.

"Three more riders, Lady Wallace." Though her clan had been skeptical of
the leadership abilities of the young clan head, with the help of two of her
most experienced commanders (Old Gunther and young Hagri), she had built up
a reputation as a fair, if slightly impassioned leader.

"Excellent work, lads. And the bodaes?"

One of the outriders hawked and spat. "Buried in the snow. Won't thaw out
for months."

Marian shifted uneasily in her saddle, and nodded. She shared the same
views of her house that no Yinn deserved a decent burial, but a line of Yinn
swaying from nooses from the tree branches overhead the road with their
hands and feet cut off -might- raise suspicions. Still, some hungry wolf or
bear would be at them before long, and at this time of winter, she was
certain even the bones would be carried off for their marrow.

The plan was a simple one. Her scouts were both fore and aft of Jaidyn's
advance party, taking out Yinn with All possible stealth. Her scouts had
discarded their Wallace colors for those of the smaller local clans,
complete with well-worn kilts whose colors could barely be discerned. On
the off chance they were spotted, hopefully All the Yinn would see were
local rangers out to guard their own fields. She allowed herself a brief
moment of pride in the fact that no Yinn scouting party had, as of yet, made
it past her spies and lived to tell the tale.

"Ah'm proud of yae, lads. Go get yerselves somethin' tae ea'. Ah've sent
Gorn and Mullen tae take yer places. Res' up, we've go' another busae dae
killin mutts tomorrah."

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Tue Apr 21 02:59:31 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: The Messenger) (Part I of II)

The army was not yet even a half mile from Nordmaar before a scout from
Kynthelig's division rushed up on horse back to report that the formations
were being followed.

"My lord. A lone rider approaches from the city. He appears to be a

Jaidyn nodded, not slowing the march or his own horse even a bit. "Very
vell. Let him approach.

The scout nodded and rode far to the back the lines, escorting the rider to
the head of the column. Jaidyn studied the cloaked horseman with interest.
The figure was very small and slight of build, its riding hood pulled over
its features to purposefully hide its face. So small was it in fact, that
its feet barely reached the stirrups of the small pony which carried it.

Jaidyn scowled. Reaching over he pulled the hood from the boys head to
reveal a handsome young lad, crowned with a thick mass of platinum blonde
hair just like his fathers.

"Vhat in All Necrucifer's Hells are you doing here boy!? "

"You're going to var, da! I'm going vith you! "

Anger contorted the ministers face. He looked his son up and down, noting
that despite being made for a kender, the chain mail he wore was still much
too large for him. The broadsword that hung haphazardly from the scabbard
was so large in fact, Jaidyn doubted the boy could even hold it up.

"Oh you are, are you? "

"Ja! You'll need me along! You know you vill! "

Slowly, the anger cooled. Jaidyn took hold of the pony's reigns and led it
off to one side, coming to a stop as the army marched onward. Dismounting,
he walked over and lifted his seven year old child from the back of the pony
and set him on the ground.

Kneeling down to bring himself more or less to eye level with his son, he
placed a hand on his tiny shoulder and sighed. And just vhere is it you
think I am riding? Var is no place for children. Your shoulder and sighed.
"And just vhere is it you think I am riding? Var is no place for children.
Your responsibility is to guard your home and family until I get back. You
are the man of the house now.

"No da, I vant to be vith you! "

"And vhat about your mother? " Jaidyn said softly.

"She isn't my real mother!!! " the boy retorted.

"But she loves you. And vhat about your sisters and brothers? Vould you
leave them defenseless in my absence? Vhat about in the city?

"They'll be okay! Da, I can fight! I'm brave enough! "

Jaidyn stared at his son for several long, quiet moments. He considered
being angry. Or at least stern. Instead, his express washed into one of
quiet pride and he spoke very softly.

"I know. I know you can fight. But you must understand vhen and vhy to
fight. One day, you'll be a king. By then, you'll know how to use this-".
Jaidyn reached up and touched the sword that hung from the ponies saddle.
"-but first, you need to learn to use this-" he touched a finger to his sons

The boy looked down. "But I vant ta go!

"I know you vant to go. But, vhat does this tell you should be doing? "
Again, Jaidyn touched his sons forehead.

The boy hesitated. "It says... I need to stay home and guard the family..?

"Not just our family. All our people. Being a king means always thinking
of the people. It means giving up vhat you vant, if it is best for them.
He paused and went on.

(Continued in Part II)

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Tue Apr 21 03:08:00 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: The Messenger) (Part II of II)

"Listen son. None of us knows how long ve have in this vorld. Glory and
vord-fame are fleeting. Vealth and titles come and go. The Gods are a pack
of fickle and unreliable bastards. Even the vomen you love can be lost. In
the end, All that matters is the people. The blood tie that stretches back
through time, and forward into future. A king must safeguard the people.
The lowlanders have never understood this. They fight for vealth. They
fight for power. They fight for Gods vho don't give a damn about them or
for impersonal ideas of 'Light' and 'Dark'. Nordmaar fights for its people.
The vikings and the celts vill need you, and you have a responsibility to
ensure their future. You take care of your family and your community.

The boy lowered his head and started to cry. Jaidyn removed an ornate ring
from his hand and placed it on the boys finger, even though it was much too

"[gNone of that. Do you think is good for your sisters to see you crying?
You must be strong for them, yes? And set good example for your little
" Jaidyn smiled. "That ring once belonged to my father and his
father before him. You are a bit young for it, but sometimes in life, ve
have to grow up sooner then ve vould like.
" He leaned forward and kissed
his sons forehead. "I love you. Now, get on your pony and go home. That
is order.

The boy looked up and wiped away the tears. He nodded seriously.

Jaidyn stood and mounted his horse. Smiling one last time at his son, he
turned and sped down the line to resume his position at the head of the
column, his long white-fur mantled cloak blowing in the wind behind him.

His son watched him go, then got on his pony, and rode home.

Writer: Segovax

Date Tue Apr 21 08:53:11 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All Kyri Derigimus Zypher Scorn Saiboth RP IMM Raije

Subject Preparations for War (Part 1 of 2)

Two strong, chainmail covered arms leaned heavily upon the table that
stood out in the open courtyard. Segovax shifted his weight to one arm as
he held out a paper with orders to a member of the Army who would lead the
Wooly Mammoths out the gate.

Once the signal is sounded, your job will be to bring the ram through the
gates. Attaching chains to your mammoths with grapple hooks at the end
should help you in this

The other Minotaur took the sheet of orders, saluted and went on his way.
Segovax smoothed out the map the wind had shifted and move his paper weights

The Minotaur took a moment to look up and take in the scene around him. The
noise was loud and distracting, as members of the guard trained in the use
of the formations that they would employ during the upcoming campaign.
Other Minotaurs readied great cauldrons to be filled with heated water,
several of them line the base of the Northernwall. The water would be used
in place of pitch and oil, as they were under strict orders to do little to
no harm to the humans who besieged them.

Other Minotaur, those of the Army, trained in the use of their mancatcher
polearms that would assist them in capturing some of the controlled humans.

Segovax looked over to the officer at his right and said

Take over for a moment, I will return shortly

They saluted each other, and Segovax mounted his Charger, a mighty
otherworldly steed twice the size of any normal warhorse. Segovax led him
to the temple, and leaving his mount, he entered through the open doors.

Others were here, healing, praying, and doing what else they might to
prepared themselves for the following day.

Segovax sat heavily in an open bench, and in a lowered voice reached out to
the War God he served

To you Raije I ask that you find our strategies sound, our discipline
perfected, and our honor deserving of the glory to be had in the upcoming
campaign against the horde of controlled humans at our gate. To our
Nordmaar allies, see that they have the skills to find the Yinnae Enemy,
vile as they are, so that we might confront them directly in open battle as
it should be.

More work needed to be done, Segovax thought as he stood from the bench.

(ooc: Another to follow, but will be this afternoon)

Writer: Kichirou

Date Tue Apr 21 11:32:15 2015

To All Imm RP

Subject The End of a Legacy

Kichirou mounted his stallion and headed out to the Arena to train. He
had been a bit pensive wondering where his Father and Mother had gone. He
was so lost in thought that he took a wrong turn and his stallion stopped
short. He was jogged out of thought by the abrupt stop.

The stallion stopped in front of something that Kichirou could not see. He
dismounted from the stallion and walked over to what he thought was a
sleeping elf woman. At closer observation, he saw she was not breathing but
recognized her from within the kingdom, It was Jesamaine Shadowblade.

Kichirou mounted her body on his stallion and took it to Zandreya's Garden
laying it on the ground sorftly to await to offer her a proper burial.

* The Last Shadowblade End of a Legacy *

Writer: Garen

Date Tue Apr 21 18:19:56 2015

Writer: Garen

Date Tue Apr 21 21:53:05 2015

Writer: Garen

Date Tue Apr 21 21:58:28 2015

Writer: Saiboth

Date Tue Apr 21 22:15:10 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All Kyri Derigimus Zypher Scorn IMM

Subject Restraint and the virtue of patience

Saiboth stood on the balcony overlooking the city. Contemplating the
attack to come, while watching the guards drill in preparation to disable
the battering ram. His thoughts going to the brave minotaurs that could
possibly die, because of the deviousness of the yinn, and how those same
minotaurs are to do their appointed tasks while not killing the humans. To
restrain his troops in such a way is unfortunate, and he hopes that the
humans in Nordmaar will understand the strength needed by the troops to not
take the easy way out and kill their opponents. With his mood darkened by
his thoughts he decides to go see what he can of the battle field.

Making his way to the North gate of the city the emperor walks by many
citizens asking "when will we attack." His responds to each question with
"We will attack when we are ready. Patience All will be well in the end."
When he makes it to the military perimeter at the north gate he is met there
by an anxious guard. "Emperor Its not safe here at the moment they have a
catapult." Saiboth responds with "We can be in danger together. Show me
the field of battle." Give up his warning the guard escorts saiboth up to
the top of the wall. Looking out to the dissipating blizzard and in it the
milling mass of humanity. Staring at them in a dark mood he contemplates an
all out attack to just kill All of them. But a promise is a promise. No
proper minotaur would ever go back on his word. He would save these humans
from themselves or from the yinn if they are indeed some how controlling
them. His mood broken his heart buoyed he looked around at the defenders on
the wall and decided that these minotaurs would do well. They seemed calm
even for the amount of experience they have with this situation. Saiboth
walked along the wall not caring that he might be seen talking to each of
the defenders. Asking each if there was need.

With the rounds of the wall done Saiboth heads back to plan how to proceed
with the next steps of the conflict.

Writer: Segovax

Date Tue Apr 21 22:35:46 2015

Writer: Segovax

Date Tue Apr 21 22:43:45 2015

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Tue Apr 21 23:56:25 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Marian Kynthelig Jarlebanke Reagan Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Infiltration)

Jaidyn stood hunched over the small wooden table, his broad arms
supporting him as he gazed down intently at the map laid out in front of
him. The first day of the march had gone well. They were nearly half way
to the staging point already and Marian's divisions had successfully
eliminated the scouts that would have reported the armies progress. The
supply lines to the city remained secure, thanks to Kynthelig's units.

Two guards stood at the entrance to the ministers tent. Jaidyn saw them
straighten slightly out of the corner of his eye, which caused him to lift
his gaze just in time to see two more guards escort in a blind folded celt.

Frowning slightly the minister rolled up the map and gestured for the tent
flaps to be closed and the mans blindfold to be removed. This done, he
allowed Jarlebanke Gunn a moment or two to adjust to his new surroundings.

After a moment or two, he saluted and said "Tha' queen be tellin' me ta talk
ta ye abou' me mission. Tha' one tha' be infiltratin.

Jaidyn nodded.

"I jus' be wantin' te be clear. I be sneakin' inta thar camp an' findin'
ou' wha' they be doin', aye?

The minister looked the man up and down and nodded. "Is correct. This is
special assignment. You have been kept in the dark about the specifics of
the march and the battle plan in case you are captured and put under magical
control. But this does mean extra risk to you, since not knowing vill mean
you could get caught up, vhen ve do strike. " He paused, considering. "Do
you have an idea of how you vill infiltrate their camp without being

Jarlebanke nodded and said "Reagan be usin' 'er gourds on meh ta turn me
inta a shadow an' tha' such. So I be goin' in a' nigh'. When they be
changin' tha' guards... I slip in' aye. I be a righ' fine hidin' lad when
I be wantin' te, too. Iffin' I can' be findin' whar thar supplies be, I'll
be seein' abou' blowin' 'em up.

A low murmuring rumble issuing from his chest, Jaidyn stroked his smooth
chin in consideration of the plan. After long moments he finally spoke.
"Very vell. I vill compose a dispatch authorizing your mission. But be
avare, if you are caught, ve von't be able to mount a personal rescue. Ve
vill have to rescue you vith All the others. So. Don't get caught. Find
out vhere the controllers are and how they are doing the controlling. And
try to find out vhat is in those damn barrels ve see the yinn carrying.

The viking king spread out a blank parchment on the table in front of him,
dipped a quill into a nearby inkwell, and began to scribe the coded military
dispatch back to the king and queen:

I have conferred with Jarlebanke Gunn at the command of the queen and we
have planed his infiltration of the enemy camp. He is unaware of our battle
plans and ignorant of marching strength. The reason for this is obvious.
His mission will be to find the controllers, how our people are being
controlled, and identify what is in those damn barrels.

Princess Reagan will be casting spells on him to aide in his concealment.
She is authorized to do so but not authorized to go anywhere near the enemy
camp. Once the spells are cast, they are cast, and if they start to wear
off, Jarlebanke will be left to his own stealth talents to be successful.

He signed the orders and then sealed them, handing them to a guard. "Give
that to a dispatch rider. Replace Jarlebanke's blindfold and lead him vell
avay from the camp before removing it. I don't vant him seeing anything in
the event of his capture. Ve vill move out at first light, so knowledge of
our current position vill not matter.

The guarded nodded. Jarlebanke gave a sharp salute, which the minister
returned, before the man was hoodwinked once again and led away by the

Sighing, the minister removed his heavy white-fur mantled cloak, and
prepared himself for an uncomfortable night in his old campaigners bedroll.

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Wed Apr 22 07:40:00 2015

Writer: Traice

Date Wed Apr 22 09:19:43 2015

Writer: Traice

Date Wed Apr 22 09:32:22 2015

Writer: Krinthos

Date Wed Apr 22 11:53:05 2015

Writer: Prysana

Date Wed Apr 22 12:04:38 2015

Writer: Shalrienne

Date Wed Apr 22 13:56:37 2015

Writer: Krinthos

Date Wed Apr 22 18:33:15 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Wed Apr 22 23:03:46 2015

Writer: Erebaal

Date Fri Apr 24 00:07:50 2015

To All Chaos Justice Scorn ( Malachive Storyline )

Subject Another Side, Another Story 1

Hodvir carted the ruined armor of the Everchosen into his personal
workshop, a space dominating the center of the forgeworks that gave him an
eye on the work of his craftsmen. The dwarf prided himself on his work, if
not always in his employers, and cared not to see his name besmirched by
sub-par arms entering the hands of those who paid him his due. Much
groaning and cursing ensued, however, as the stout fellow unloaded the
hugely-proportioned armor from the cart and laid them out over a half-dozen
worktables, a critical eye sweeping over the ruined plates. 'Och, aye.
This es gonna cost 'em extra, e'en if tha lad never fights again.

The clatter and clang of the unloading had attracted more than a few
forgehands to gawk, fascinated by the intervention of their forgemaster. A
gnarled hand shook at them, balled into a fist as the dwarf gruffly sent
them back to work, distracted by the enormity of the task before him. Each
and every piece, it seemed, had been scorched and half-melted, slagged
chunks of mail obscuring what was once ornate etchings and jagged angles
that had made the Everchosen an avatar of primal terror on the battlefield.
Now it was a ruin, its edges worn down and its horrific visage lessened to
something of pity. With a half-sigh, Hodvir laid his fingers on one of the
half-melted sections of the broad chestplate, 'Et's almost a shame. Et's
foine crafts-

A jolt of something ran up his arm, the feeling of towering heat prickling
his skin and making him take a step back. For an instant, it felt as though
he had stood within the heart of his forge furnace, withering in the
inferno. Hodvir gazed at his hand, grimacing at the minute, almost
indiscernible tremor in it. With a grunt, he dismissed it. A case of the
shakes over a quirk of the imagination was folly, and an unsteady hand had
no place holding a hammer.

The dwarf nonetheless donned a pair of heavy gloves before setting about his
next task, prying apart sections of the platemail from the mesh of chain and
leather that backed it. Some of the metal had fused together under the heat
of its destruction, and had to be cut away in order to free the plates from
their mounting for repair. Only the helm remained untouched. After a
moment's consideration, Hodvir had declared it a lost cause, setting it on a
table away from the rest of the repairable pieces. Its hollow eye sockets
watched the dwarf toil, and Hodvir could not help but feel observed, despite
the armor's wearer being long gone, at least to his reckoning. 'Buncha
loony gits startin' ta give me tha same dose a madness. Might 'ave ta split
back ta Thaxanos 'fore too long..

Finally, the salvageable pieces were assembled, the slagged plated of metal
bearing unrecognizable faces, the massive pauldrons, spikes cracked and
broken, the weathered greaves, All took a table to themselves. A pair of
forgehands, grimy with sweat and dead-eyed, had already taken their places
at the bellows as Hodvir beckoned over another pair to take hold of the
angular, inch-thick plate that made up the front of the Everchosen's ruined
breastplate, 'Easy, lads. Drop et an' Ah'll use yer blood as quenchin' oil.
Ah figgur tha E'erchosen'll loike that.

Grunting, laboriously, the plate was levered into the forge, billowing
white-hot from the efforts of the bellows-hands. With a practiced eye,
Hodvir oversaw the heating, barking orders whenever the bellows fell out of
rhythm. Consternation furrowed the dwarf's brow after some minutes,
however, and he leaned in closer, eyes watering from the heat. Something
was wrong. The armor was not heating properly. 'Faster, ya slaggers!
Fire's not gonna 'eat etself, ya know!
' One of the bellows-hands gave a
groan, and the dwarf rounded on him, beard bristling, 'Ah, fer tha love o'-'

Writer: Erebaal

Date Fri Apr 24 00:59:14 2015

To All Chaos Justice Scorn ( Malachive Storyline )

Subject Another Side, Another Story 2

The dwarf bounded forward, knocking the taller man out of the way and,
with a grunt of effort, began to pump the bellows himself, corded arms
tensing and flexing painfully with the effort as he tried to peek into the
fire. The chestplate stubbornly refused to heat, its luster a dull red and
black instead of the cherry hue that signified its readiness to be
re-hammered. Even the thickness of the steel should not have availed it
such resistance by now. Spitting a dwarvish curse, Hodvir redoubled his
efforts, seething and grumbling as his partner opposite him finally tired,
strength expended, 'Oi, ya lackluster, thin-blooded sod! Yer gonna be lucky
ef yer master leaves enough fingers unbroken ta 'ammer nails!
' With a roar
of indignation, the dwarf pumped and sweated, the minutes stretching on
until, at last, he looked into the flame and saw the plate of metal had
finally warmed, glowing with a healthy hue as the flames raged, fed by the
furious efforts of the forgemaster, 'Et's about toime! '

Grunting and heaving, the forgehands carried the smouldering plate to the
great anvil of the forgemaster, drenched in sweat and nearly as taxed as
their fellows who had quit the forge. His foul mood even darker, Hodvir
followed, gazing down at the damaged mail. Taking up his tongs and hammer,
the dwarf plucked at one of the thinner parts of the metal, folding it over
and raising his hammer, giving the first blow.

The strike skated off the breastplate- a first for Hodvir- and the dwarf
staggered as the sound of screaming assaulted him, making him grab at his
ear with a gloved hand, shouting an oath. The cacophony was deafening, the
sound of a thousand mouths shrieking. Just as suddenly, however, the sound
stopped, and the dwarf looked around, seeing the gazes of his forgehands
settle upon him, uncomprehending, 'Did ye no'? Thar wos.. ' Suddenly
unsure of himself, Hodvir gazed at the platemail, which had begun
threatening to cool. He gazed at a gloved hand, glowering now, irritated
with his imperfection, 'Ah missed. ' Using his teeth, he bit at the
fingertips of the heavy leather mitt, stripping it off. Wrapping gnarled
fingers around the hammer once more, he put himself back into place,
'Arright, now... '

Once again the hammer fell, this time striking perfectly with a percussive
bang. The dwarf tensed as he swung the blow, anticipating a second outcry,
but there was nothing- save perhaps a slight keening, the distant echo of
some pain inflicted. Rolling his shoulders, Hodvir grunted, preparing
himself for a second blow, 'Arright, lads, back to tha forge afterward.
Et's gonna need a good firin'.
' The hammer fell, glancing off of the ridge
of the new fold in the mail. Once again came the shriek of the legion
voices, striking Hodvir with the force of a hammerblow to the gut. His
mallet fell from nerveless fingers, and he doubled over, the sound lingering
as he yelled. Once more, heads turned, and it was only with an effort that
the dwarf straightened, gloved hand pressed against the edge of the anvil.

The dwarf stared down at the breastplate before him, his leathery skin pale.
He looked at the small progress he had made, then at the pile of armor that
littered the other worktables, then back up at the many faces of his
subordinates, his unknowing, unhearing, idiot subordinates. The echo of
rage twisted his features for a moment, fading in a heartbeat, and he
lowered his gaze once more, 'Et's gonna be a long noight. '

Writer: Asaza

Date Fri Apr 24 04:09:18 2015

To All Althainia Fatale Imm RP

Subject The Flames of Wrath

Flames crackle around the stone seat that Asaza had made her throne, the
stone itself seared and cracked from the heat radiating through her armor
from the furnace within. It is a throne without a castle, the seat upon
which she made her home without a home.

It would be difficult to tell if her eyes were open or closed- either way,
the twin orbs of fire glowed brightly beneath the scorched rim of her helm,
flames licking up over the dull iron chain. She reviewed the events of the
last week in her mind, playing and replaying the battles, her attention
never resting for a moment. It could not. She dared not.

She could not say what sparked her sudden war against the kingdom of light-
in a sense, she had always warred the little knights, though few had dared
assault her thus far, and never on their own turf. They were taken unawares
by her sudden fury. It had surprised even herself.

Had she simply grown in strength enough to assault the gates alone, and
feared no retaliation? That was not quite it- like All her kin, she
possessed some small about of fear, the subtle chiming in the back of her
head that she was not a god. Not fully. Her power was beyond the measure
of All but the eldest dragons, but it would be a mistake to underestimate
the mortal knights. Many of her cousins had fallen to their hands,
underestimating their strength in arms, in numbers, in cunning. She feared
them still, but not enough to grovel. Those days are over.

Rising to her feet, she finds the grip of her immense iron maul and squeezes
the grip tightly- no leather could withstand the heat of her grasp, it would
burn to cinders in an instant. Tiny scored lines etched in the handle of
her maul are enough to maintain her hold on her trusted weapon. She doubted
she would have the pleasure of assaulting the Empress herself a second time,
but she would make due with her knights. She would hunt them, pick them off
one by one outside their walls, until she could cast down the gates into a
smoldering ruin and let the fire of her wrath burn down the city itself. A
smile forms on her lips at the thought.

It would be a good night to hunt. Fatale will have his fill. Hoisting the
weapon to her shoulder, she sets off once more.

Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Apr 24 06:15:12 2015

To All althainia asuza dukat feronious saelaira mahalia imm RP

Subject A Midnight Stroll Through Memories (pt 1)

Rellinath rolled over, his eyes falling on the sleeping form of his
finacee next to him, her face still flushed from the alcohol she'd partaken
of the evening before, and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. In
sleep, there was a calm, quiet sort of beauty about her that he envied
sometimes, his own sleep occasionally coming fitful and troubled. Like this
evening, for example. He'd had as much to drink as she, and while he was
accustomed to drinking whereas she had never had a drop of it prior to the
celebration, he should have been sleeping peacefully as well, the love of
his life in his arms. But here he was, wide awake, eyes and voice still a
bit dulled by the booze, his Nordmaarian accent still evident though not
quite as thick as he addressed the few other citizens he saw on his way
through the city streets. Mahalia wouldn't be waking anytime soon, he knew,
the herbs he'd given her as much to keep her sleeping soundly until the
alcohol had worn off as to prevent the ill effects that infamously followed
the morning after a night of excess. He had some time to roam, and to
think, before he needed to return to the room. He didn't really need to
return to the room at all, of course... If Mahalia awoke and found him
gone, she'd just assume some sort of business had called him away, as was
common of late, and would either go back to sleep and wait for his return or
get up and go about her own business. But he thought that perhaps with
their wedding so close on the horizon that it might be nice for her to wake
up in his arms for once, instead of to nothing but a rumpled blanket,
especially if she was feeling out of sorts from the booze.

The flagstones felt cool under his soles; he hadn't bothered putting on his
boots, enjoying the cool sensation of the earth and the budding moisture of
the morning against his feet. His armor, too, he'd left at the room,
feeling he likely would not need it in the early hours of the morning, and
feeling a bit more secure of late thanks to the resurgence of the military
in Althainia. He'd put his tunic back on, of course, the morning air a bit
too chilly and himself still a bit self-conscious about the new scars he'd
received in his battle against the giantess Asuza. That'd been a bit closer
than he'd liked, at least their first confrontation... The response had
been hurried and unprepared, the need to defend the Empress and the other
citizens huddled at the gate where Dukat's angry mob had harassed the
Empress for her decisions more urgent than any sort of planned response.
Granted, in that battle, they had been forced to withdraw, and he himself
had been gravely wounded fighting toe-to-toe against the giantess while the
Empress and his men retreated, but the fact that nobody had fallen in battle
was a marked success in his mind. Their second encounter had been much more
telling, the giantess fleeing the city after engaging with Althainian forces
and being forced to pull back herself. She hadn't been prepared for the
level of response then, unaware that the city had been planning for just
such a counter-offensive, that they had been stockpiling and enchanting
weapons specifically designed to bite deeply into her flesh and training in
tactics to defeat her once and for all. She had best beware the might of
the Althainian Empire, he thought to himself, for to underestimate us would
be to die.


Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Apr 24 06:26:58 2015

To All althainia asuza dukat feronious saelaira mahalia imm RP

Subject A Midnight Stroll Through Memories (pt 2)

Other events flashed through his head as he walked... The Handmaiden,
crawling across the ground, her mind not her own as the Son of Siccara
tended to her, the polar opposite of Asuza. He had never thought that a
giant, a being who's very mention tended to cause brave men to freeze in
momentary panic, could be so gentle and caring, but he had done what no
other could and purged the illness from the Handmaiden's body. Had he not
been secure in his own faith, the act might have caused him to rethink his
path, the combination of such an overt display of divine might combined with
a compassion he'd seen in few other beings on Algoron almost moving him to
tears. It flashed to Dukat, the leader of the mob that had tried to
convince Garen to betray the Empire and then betrayed him in kind when he
refused, and to the sight of Garen crawling along, a veritable river of
blood in the dirt and on the stones where he'd come from, nothing but sheer
resolve and dedication to duty driving him forward. Had the Empress not
arrived when she did and tended to the arrow wounds driving through Garen's
vitals, he would not have survived another minute; indeed, he shouldn't have
survived nearly as long as he did. It continued along its path, as thoughts
tend to do, to the Empress' speech, her own words mirroring his feelings on
the matter of the Slayers' presence in the city. He did not agree with
their ideologies, and thought them blind for attacking anything they deemed
"unnatural", because the simple term was an oxymoron, as everything came
from nature and thus nothing was "unnatural" except what men chose to fear.
But he understood their presence as a necessary evil, a bane to the beings
of darkness and hate that sought out Althainia for sport. He didn't like
them, but he would gladly use them. And then, to the next day, when Dukat
marched unbidden straight into the center of the city and first demanded to
speak to the Empress, then assaulted Garen again. Rellinath couldn't figure
out what had driven the man beyond reason, but the assault had left little
choice in the matter, and he and the Lord Templar had quickly knocked the
man to the ground and dragged him off to the jails. He'd likely never see
the light of day again, but from the look in his eyes he had descended too
far into madness to see it anymore anyway.

And then, there was the Disciple. Rellinath had stood there as Feronious
had spoken to him derisively, as one might a child, reminding him that
animals did not speak the Common tongue. Granted, he knew that the Disciple
may have had no way of knowing that the spoken word didn't matter, it was
the empathic bond that the two shared that allowed them to speak, although
"speak" was an oversimplification of the matter. More, it was a sharing of
their hearts, they knew instinctively what the other wanted simply because
of their bond. More stinging was the next remark, chiding him for attacking
the fire giantess as if he was a boy poking a dog with a stick. The comment
about Minah, Rellinath could have seen fit to let pass as a simple
misunderstanding of the matter, but when the fool had dared to insult him
for doing his duty to the Empire? Where did that bastard get off,
insinuating to a man who'd very nearly lost his own life defending citizens
of the Empire, including the Empress herself, from a rampaging giant that he
had been wrong in doing so? Where had the Disciple been during All of this?
Certainly not out there fighting alongside him; Rellinath doubted the
Disciple had the guts to actually raise a blade in defense of anything
except his own selfish desires.


Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Apr 24 06:42:08 2015

To All althainia asuza dukat feronious saelaira mahalia imm RP

Subject A Midnight Stroll Through Memories (pt 3)

Perhaps that was residual anger speaking, but he prided himself on being
a good judge of character, and something about Feronious' character
definitely rubbed Rellinath rawly. Yet he could not openly decry the man,
no matter his feelings or opinions, because the Princess was infatuated with
him, and Saelaira's happiness truly meant something to him. If the Princess
wanted the man, despite his character and despite the fact that he did not
wish to sire children, a fact which Saelaira had confided to him through
tear-filled eyes that stung her greatly, for she did truly love him and
woudl give that up for him if need be. So, though his first instinct had
been to berate the man as a coward and a fool and punch him in the face, he
had taken the high road, spun on his heel, and left to take his aggression
out on something else. He didn't approve, and somewhere deep down he knew
that Feronious would hurt Saelaira someday, somehow, but that was not his
decision to make, though he would most certainly not be opposed to repaying
any pain he gave to her tenfold.

An unsettling thought flashed through his head then, an image of Feronious
sitting upon the throne of Althainia as Emperor, with Saelaira at his side
serving as little more than a prize that he had won. Another image followed
it immediately, one that had made Rellinath chuckle despite himself... An
image of himself ascending to stand in front of the throne, lifting the
crown straight from Feronious' head, and turning to the rest of th eEmpire,
asking if any out there wished to wear the crown, for their heads would
surely be more worthy than the one it sat upon now. He half wondered if
Feronious would actually be able to summon up the strength of character to
stop him. But he doubted it.

As he finished his walk and returned to the Blue Pixie, ascending the stairs
with the room key in hand to return to his rest in Mahalia's arms, he
thought about the talk that he and the Princess had had just that evening,
about the secret she had confided in him. Rellinath surely thought she was
making a mistake, but also knew it was her mistake to make. He'd spoken
with her at length about it and made his opinions on the matter clear... He
wasn't one to mince words, after all, especially not as drunk as he was
then... But he'd also to ld her that he'd support her no matter what she
chose. After all, she was practically family as well, now that he was going
to be marrying her cousin.

As he slipped under the blankets and back into Mahalia's sleepy embrace, he
smiled to himself. Above all, Rellinath now knew that after All he'd been
through, family is the most important thing you will ever have.


Writer: Jonathen

Date Fri Apr 24 07:32:53 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Fri Apr 24 09:50:16 2015

Writer: Rellinath

Date Fri Apr 24 18:18:53 2015

Writer: Shalrienne

Date Fri Apr 24 19:39:39 2015

Writer: Mahalia

Date Fri Apr 24 19:49:52 2015

Writer: Feronious

Date Fri Apr 24 20:57:25 2015

To Althainia All

Subject Grandmaster Saryne II

Weeks had passed since he brought the crew of acolytes out into the
wilderness of Althainia to work on the new monastery. A sort of makeshift
village of tents had cropped up in the area as they took to logging the
nearby trees to gather supplies. He had made specific instructions to
replace whatever wood they took with saplings, using his connections as the
head of the Imperial Church to bring representatives from the druid guild on
site. Not that he really needed guild-trained druids out here to plant
trees, but he thought every opportunity to make the citizens of the Empire
feel useful and cooperate was a decent use of resources.

A lot of communication kept the military aware that this impromptu
construction was not the advances of some foreign force. And the nearby
village contributed in foodstuffs that Feronious paid for with coin left
over from his savings as a Miller back when he operated the saw. So between
the hammering and the eating, there were more drills on forms and at least
two training sessions a day, generally involving running and sparring. This
was standard for him. It was standard in the Temple of the Grey Fist. He
wasn't training these acolytes to be Grey Fist, but you do what you know.

Long hours in the sun meant ditching his armor and gear at home. Instead,
he dressed in the simple clothing of a civilian, mired by the dirt and dust
of construction and hard labor. This was precisely where he wanted to be,
out of the white marble temples and pristine castle courtyards. Where
ceilings were immeasurably tall and voices carried like messages for All to
hear. There was this boring pretentiousness to most adventurers that made
him All the more glad that he had such a vast disconnect to their lives and
ideals through his ascetic vows. It was always some overly gruff, overly
eager kid barely out of puberty trying to puff their chest and show their
worth. Or the light-footed girls with too much cleavage and not enough
sense. Maybe he was just getting too old for that song and dance of boring,
played out guild recruits.

So he preached to the acolytes. He told them about how his actions had
brought the curse upon him. He explained the mark it had left while it was
in his body. He told them about the cruelty he experienced at the hands of
forces greater than himself and how he had come so close to giving up time
and time again. The pain and anguish. The ability to endure it through the
kindness of others, not sheer force. He told them about the bandit attack
against Katherene and his fighting off the terrorists with the others on the
boat. He recounted battles against zombie plagues, side by side with the
Champion. And the many other adventures.

Violence had brought nothing but pain. Even in the best of circumstances,
it was a half measure and never a solution. Every instance of it felt wrong
from his devotion to Austinian. There was always a better way, though not
everybody was concerned with the best solution. His extensive training
hadn't brought him strength to wield against the world. Strength out of
place isn't strength at all. And, like he told Saelaira, power would
corrupt his heart if he relied on it. It would corrupt them All if they
were so weak as to feel they needed it.

Writer: Andreyna

Date Sat Apr 25 14:59:11 2015

To All Shalonesti Shalonesti_Kingdom Gray_Church Tief Laendyn Thodrelan Zypher Zandreya Imm Religion Rp

Subject A Gift to the Gray Church: A Sapling of the Vallens

'My Queen, we now have the sapling, ' an elvish voice entered the
thoughts of the Queen of the Elves as she sat within the Church of Zandreya,
meditating and praying to the beloved Mother. 'I shall bring it to you at
the Church, Queen,
' the voice continued. Andreyna Sha'evlas continued
with her prayers, thanking the Mother for the wondrous sapling that
Shalonesti would be presenting to the Gray Church as a gift for their
servitude to All of Algoron.

'Dearest Mother, I thank you for allowing us to present the Gray Church with
such a special a gift.. A gift that You have given to the Vallens alone.
The members of the Gray Church strive to aid those in need, never asking for
anything in return, except for the ability to continue to help those who are
in need of it.

Too many times their selfless acts have been ignored, have been taken
advantage of, and yet they continue to aid without question or regret. The
Shalonesti thanks You for Your Monsignor, Tief. He is a close friend and
ally to the Elves, Your children, he is a mentor, someone whom we can speak
to freely, to seek guidance from.

Monsignor Tief and the Gray Church were happy to accept this gift, from the
Shalonesti, from You, allowing us to give them thanks for their dedication
to the needy upon Algoron. I know they will care for the sapling well, and
it will bloom into a fine Vallentree, forever reminding them that they are
needed, appreciated, and thought of by the Elves of Shalonesti and by those
they so selflessly aid.

The Deacon heard movment behind her as she finished her prayer. The Elf
Queen turned to find a druid of the Vallens standing behind her, a clay pot
in his hands, a tiny sapling, standing proudly within. 'We were not able to
extract an actual seed.. The seed must extend its roots here in the Vallens
first, in order to fully thrive. However, this sapling is well upon its
way, and should do well in the care of the Gray Church,
' the druid informed
his Queen in their graceful Elvish tongue.

Andreyna nodded, agreeing with the druid, having previously learned the ways
of a druid herself, she had expected that a Vallenseed, a gift from
Zandreya, would not survive without the rich soil of the Vallens. She
reached out, accepting the clay pot from the druid, 'You and the druids have
done very well.. The Speaker of the Stars and I thank you for your hard
work, and for caring for this special gift,
' the Deacon smiled gently at
the druid, 'The Gray Church will be quite proud of it, and will ensure it
receives the utmost of care daily, enabling it to thrive within their
temple. This sapling will grow into a magnificent Vallentree, proud,
elegant, a symbol of the bond between the Shalonesti and the Gray Church.

The druid bowed gracefully to his Queen, 'Praise be to the Mother, for
allowing us to do so, for presenting us something so fair, only known to the
Vallens, and that we may gift it to those who truly deserve it.
' Backing
away, the Elf turned, leaving the Deacon to her prayers.

Andreyna lowered herself to her knees, gently placing the clay pot in front
of her on the floor of the temple's garden. She tilted her head, raising it
to the sky, preferring to gaze up at the Heavens when she spoke to the
Mother, thanking Her once again.

Writer: Asrar

Date Sat Apr 25 16:49:03 2015

Writer: Gabhran

Date Sat Apr 25 18:14:31 2015

Writer: Gabhran

Date Sat Apr 25 18:50:04 2015

Writer: Dyaki

Date Sun Apr 26 02:08:14 2015

To All Althainia Dyali

Subject Epilogue

The morning of Dyaki's visit dawned bright and clear with the spectacular
colors that only existed for a few brief moments during a tropical sunrise.
She turned and swooped downwards towards the neat rows of cocoa trees and
sugarcane planted in a cleared-out section of the jungle just above the
beach, with a cute white picket fence that looked entirely out of place
holding back the lush green of the jungle behind it. A figure clad in
pristine white was down there already, weeding parts of the cane field while
wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat that was a size too big for her, and with
a mischevious grin, Dyaki tucked in her wings and swooped downward,
delivering the familiar dive-bomb hug that was the

A bit later, the two girls (both dusty from the brief wrestling match that
later ensued) were sipping drinks on the edge of the dock, swinging their
legs over the edge and laughing and giggling at each other's stories. After
a tour of the small plantation Dyaki had suggested a dip in the ocean to
beat the heat of the tropical sun climbing high overhead, and after
finishing their drinks, they swam, dove, flew, and dive-bombed some more
until both of them were quite out of breath and completely exhausted.

As sad as Dyaki was to leave Althainia, she had to admit that her sister's
new chocolate farm away from it All was a little slice of heaven. They sat
on the dock once more, leaning into one another with their heads resting
together, watching the bright hues of the sunset flicker and dance over the
calm seas to the west. Dyali appeared at peace, contented, nearly ethereal
in the light of the setting sun, and a pang of sadness pierced Dyaki's heart
for a brief moment. Her fingers searched out Dyali's hand, entwining her
fingers into the other girl's and giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I love you, Lili."

"I love you too, sis."

Writer: Jonathen

Date Sun Apr 26 08:35:05 2015

Writer: Mahalia

Date Sun Apr 26 18:15:52 2015

Writer: Devlin

Date Mon Apr 27 02:10:39 2015

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Mon Apr 27 04:21:13 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Devlin Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Unexpected Complications) (Part I of II)

"We are in position king Jaidyn. " came the whisper-quiet voice of the
young Kyrre scout. Barely eighteen years old, the young man had not even
begun to shave yet. The minister pondered this sourly as the scout

"The gates of Ganth opened and closed, but I saw no one move through them...
The highlander captives appear to be besieging the city still. The ram is
not currently in use. Both it and the catapults are lightly defended. We
have seen no sign of the yinn controllers.

Jaidyn turned to address a golden haired MacLeod lieutenant who stood by his
side. "Hmm. Is any vord from Marian's division? "

The woman shook her head. "Thae 'ave nae spotted them ministah, but all
enemae scouts bae eliminated.

The minister nodded and survyed the landscape around him. The army of the
highlands had arrived without being detected and had taken up position on
the high forested hills that looked down upon the road to Ganth. Everything
was clearly visible to the Skotkonung shamans, who peered at the landscape
for miles around with their soulsight spells.

Jaidyn stroked his chin, considering the situation as yet another Kyrre
scout arrived. "Princess Reagan sends vord. She says that an army of
minotaurs, cloaked by magic, marched in through the gates vhen they opened!

His brow furrowing in confusion, Jaidyn glanced at the distant gates from
his elevated vantage point. That wasn't part of the plan. What were the
minotaur doing? Why would they march troops from outside into the city
without striking at the battering ram? The Emperor had been very clear
during the war meeting about his intentions. Had some unknown circumstance
caused a last moment change in plans? Were the minotaur getting
reinforcements from somewhere? Mahn-Tor perhaps? It simply didn't make any

Before he could ponder this further, another runner came dashing up with a
sealed military dispatch. Jaidyn noted the Marine insignia on his collar as
the man saluted, handed him the coded scroll, and then dashed off without

Grunting to himself, the viking king broke the seal and began read with an
expression of growing disbelief.

Kinsmen and Ally,

I will be joining a formation as we engage in battle against our captured
people. Perhaps my presence will bring to memory the past of these lost
souls. Through use of our shaman and warlocks, they will be using soulsight
and faerie fog to co-ordinate the assassination of the yinn controllers.
None should be able to escape their detection. Once we have slain the head
of the beasts, the enslaved should lose their will to fight and we can
reclaim our people.

King Devlin MacCallum

"He vants to do vhat!? " Jaidyn half bellowed, to the astonishment of those
around him who had seldom heard the minister of defense so much as raise his
voice. "Is madness to put the king of Nordmaar on the front line! " He
paused and handed the scroll to the young MacLeod lieutenant who looked it
over herself. Nothing about this situation was going according to plan.
The controllers were nowhere to be seen, the minotaur were behaving
strangely, and now this.

The young woman nodded, her expression filled with pride. "He bae wantin to
save our people. Orders bae orders.

(continued in part II)

Writer: Jaidyn

Date Mon Apr 27 04:32:15 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Devlin Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act II: Unexpected Complications) (Part II of II)

Jaidyn raised both index fingers to his temple and began to rub them
vigorously to staunch a mounting stress headache. If the king of Nordmaar
were to get himself captured, this war would be over before it even began.
Where was General Blaere when he was most needed to talk some sense into

"Is madness. " the minister repeated. "But you are correct... Is direct
order from the high king. But even high king must acknowledge the situation
on the ground. Take a message.

The young woman removed a blank dispatch scroll from her pack and began to

"Inform king Devlin of situation. Tell him is opinion of his minister of
defense that his personally charging in is ill-advised. But if he is
absolutely dead set on doing it, then I vill set aside four divisions for
him from the main body, not just one. Unless he order otherwise, the main
body vill hold the high ground and remain in concealment vhile he moves in
to conduct the false attack against the human captives. He vill then
retreat once the feint is conducted and draw our people into the tar pits
that Kynthelig's division has prepared. The main army will then do one of
three things. Is possible the yinn controllers will see Devlin's force and
try to attack him. Once they reveal themselves, we will charge in from
concealed position and destroy them. If that does not happen, we will allow
the feint to proceed, and once our people are off the battlefield and safely
captured, ve vill destroy the siege engines and begin scouting for the yinn.
If anything goes vrong vith Devlin's attack, ve vill charge in to rescue him
regardless. Prepare the signals for the minotaur. "

The young woman sealed the coded scroll and gave it to a dispatch rider.
Jaidyn sighed and turned back towards the road to Ganth, gazing down at the
flat lands between him and the captives. "Tell the men to be ready to
charge that distance as soon as the vord is given. Keep the archers on the
high ground to fire arrows over our heads when the time comes, and make sure
Marian and Kynthelig get a copy of the orders.

Jaidyn sighed, watching the woman leave. He stood steadfast and awaited the
coming blue flare.

Writer: Tahereh

Date Mon Apr 27 10:07:05 2015

Writer: Segovax

Date Mon Apr 27 16:57:24 2015

Writer: Gabhran

Date Mon Apr 27 18:58:39 2015

Writer: Tief

Date Wed Apr 29 00:35:08 2015

To All Gray_Church Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Zandreya

Subject A Sapling from the Vallenwoods

The big day arrived and seemed to fly by. When the gnome took his
morning walk in the Gray Church gardens, the special plot was ready and
waiting. When the gnome took his last evening stroll, the magnificent
Vallenwood sapling was there.

The druids had labored All day in the garden. The gnome stayed out of the
way as best he could, easy for a small person in a big garden. All of the
ceremony and practical preparation mesmerized him. He watched as a hole was
excavated and blessed. Sacred soil from a particularly special Vallenwood
glade was brought in by the druids to line the hole.

The sapling itself was brought into the garden and, with the utmost care,
transplanted from its clay pot. The druids filled the void around the
sapling's roots with Vallenwoods soil.

The gnome spent the rest of the day anxiously watching as the druids made
sure the sapling would survive and thrive. Over several hours, the druids
prayed over the sapling. Now and then they added a dash of water from the
Shalinastra River. As the sun began to set behind the garden walls, the
druids pronounced the transplant a success. The Vallenwood sapling would
take root in the garden and, over generations, grow into a mighty tree.

It was a very good day for the Gray Church.

Writer: Isabel

Date Wed Apr 29 03:04:26 2015

Writer: Segovax

Date Wed Apr 29 08:29:49 2015

Writer: Segovax

Date Wed Apr 29 08:46:17 2015

Writer: Shalrienne

Date Wed Apr 29 14:18:23 2015

Writer: Mezlak

Date Wed Apr 29 19:09:33 2015

Writer: Elmon

Date Thu Apr 30 17:45:59 2015

To All Taywin Bendrax RP

Subject Beginnings: Into the World

He was born laughing. "And so eager to come out into the world,"
his mother told him. It was the last thing she said before their goodbyes.
She held his face in both her hands and kissed him on the forehead. Then
they embraced, the sea-elf mother and her son, and then they parted. Her
heart nearly broke then, as her sweet, beautiful little Elmon dove off
into the sea, but she knew she could not keep him. Their island home was
an old and beautiful place, filled with rich history and old, nameless
gods, but the world was so vast. She could not keep him from it.

*** *** ***

The desert sun roared overhead, but the dry air no longer bothered his
eyes like it used to. It had been seven years since Elmon left home to see
the world and find his fortune, and if he felt any regret at All it was
that thoughts of home came so seldom. They were always fond memories when
they came -- His mother, his father, his tribe, his home -- but they were
also brief, drowned out in the sheer volume of the wider world. New
Thalos, for instance, fascinated him so deeply that he had not been able
to leave for the better part of five years.

It also helped that he was broke. An escort outside of the city would
be costly, and passage over the Arsataw Yaa was even more so. He could
swim it easily enough, but not without leaving his wares behind. At any
rate, he dared not travel alone. Not after the last time.

A highwayman had left him penniless on the road from Althainia, and it
was All Elmon could do to crawl across the sands and collapse at New
Thalos's gate. The Samaritans had treated him well, saw that he was
rested, got him back on his feet, but it was months before he could return
to his craft. Raw, workable glass did not come cheap, and the equipment to
shape it was even more difficult to come by.

But time went on, and Elmon managed to establish himself in the city's
markets. The craftsmen's guild was welcoming, and were intrigued to see
the things that the young sea-elf could produce. Fragile things. Lovely
things. Beads and pendants, vases and bottles, small glass figurines that
caught the light and sang. Truly, he had a gift for delicate beauty.

It was one such trinket, a long rose of colored glass, that caught the
eye of one particularly eager little kender...

Writer: Taywin

Date Thu Apr 30 17:47:57 2015

To All Elmon Bendrax RP

Subject Beginnings: A Crossing of Ways

I remember the sun was high and warm in the market that day. All the
big people sweated and groaned under the weight of their own bodies while I
jumped between them collecting the interesting things I found. Sometimes
I'd hear a shout from one of the booths behind me but I just kept moving
like normal. Big people are always finding different reasons to be upset
and I prefer to stay out of it.

I swept under the legs of an especially tall man when a booth filled with
glass in All different shapes and sizes came into view. Once I got close I
could barely see over the edge of the table so I stood on tippy-toe and out
of the corner of my eye I caught a red flash of light. I reached my hand
over the side and brought down the prettiest glass rose I've ever seen. I
turned it over in my hands a few times before wrapping it in blue silk scarf
and putting it one of my pockets. I was about to hop over to a perfume
booth when I was suddenly picked up off my feet from the back of my vest and
raised ten feet in the air by a monster!

Well, not a monster, but he was big and hairy so he kind of looked like one.
Until you saw him from the right angle then he just looked like a cow on his
hind legs, one of those minotaurs. After he had me by the scruff of my
vest, and I could see over the side of the table, I noticed a blue man had
been standing behind it this whole time.

So there I was, hanging mid-air between the cow and the blue man with no way
out but to slip out of and abandon my vest with All my useful, pretty
things. Realizing that could never happen I crossed my arms and glared at
the cow-man, "What's the big idea? You think just 'cause you're big and
strong you can lift me up whenever you want?"

Without even responding to me the cow-man started to tell the blue one that
I had stolen from him! "I haven't stolen anything!" I yelled, but they
just kept talking over me like big people tend to do. "I DIDN'T STEAL
ANYTHING!" I yelled again but they just kept on talking. I had to focus on
an escape plan. Just as I was about to make my move the cow-man put his big
giant paw into one of my pockets and pulled out the blue silk scarf!

"That's mine!" I shrieked, flailing and trying in vain to scratch him, "You
can't just take people's property!"

The cow man looked at me as if I had just told a joke and then to my horror
he handed the silk scarf to the blue man! I was kicking wildly, reaching my
hands out, screaming, "Thief! Theif!" But none of the passers-by even
stopped to look.

The blue man unwrapped my pretty glass rose and handed the scarf back to the
cow-man, who slid it back into the vest pocket it had just come from, and I
was placed on my feet again. I stomped my foot, "You guys think just 'cause
you're bigger than me that you can push me around! Well one day you will
have to squeeze into a tight space and then you won't have any little people
around to help you!"

That finally got the blue man's attention. He looked down at me from over
his table and smiled. I glared up at him with as much anger as I could
muster but he just laughed. "I'm sorry but you seem to have dropped this,"
he leaned forward and offered me the glass rose.

I snatched it back and wrapped it back into the scarf and put it back where
it belonged. "Thanks for finally growing ears," I huffed.

Writer: Jarlebanke

Date Thu Apr 30 19:02:26 2015

Writer: Bendrax

Date Thu Apr 30 19:10:34 2015

Writer: Jadelyn

Date Fri May 1 08:37:17 2015

Writer: Jonathen

Date Fri May 1 08:52:55 2015

Writer: Niceven

Date Fri May 1 22:03:30 2015

To All conclave

Subject Another Magni'fae brought into the world

Niceven held her new born baby in her arms and smiled up at her husband
and grown daughter. Her family was growing. This was a blessing indeed.

Niceven spent much time with her young daughter, teaching her the way of
magic, introducing her baby to several of the people in the conclave she now
calls her family. There she grew up, strong in magic and rich in family.
The child wanted for nothing, as she was raised with All those who adore

Writer: Kynthelig

Date Sat May 2 10:50:55 2015

Writer: Seredath

Date Sat May 2 11:06:19 2015

Writer: Niantha

Date Sat May 2 11:24:16 2015

To All maricela ketha lobos tyrrion arkane imm fatale RP

Subject Playing Rough, part 1 of 2

"Give that back, Imp! "

"NO! MINE! "

Niantha looked up from her book, lips quirking into a smirk as she watched
her little sister and her cousin rampaging around the yard of the family's
small house. Ketha was being particularly loud today, which for her was
saying something. Ketha was always loud. Nia supposed that was part of
being so young, though with their mixed background maturity seemed to come
at different ages for everyone. Nia couldn't remember being this
rambunctious as a child, but then again, she and her twin were a bit
different from the rest of the siblings. Her thoughts drifted away to her
twin sister, who had left a few months ago for the city of Arkane to begin
working and making some money to support the family after Father died,
leaving Niantha to care for her brothers and baby sister alone. It actually
angered her sometimes, as she wasn't the oldest, although maybe she was as
far as maturity went. Lobos was so unstable that there ws no way he'd have
been able to keep things together, Tyrrion was old enough but his temper got
the better of him too often. It was best this way, she knew, but she was
far, far too young to play the part of a mother. To add to her frustration,
her little cousin had been living with them too, so now she was responsible
for taking care of yet another child. Had she given life to them herself,
she supposed she wouldn't mind so much, and for Imp and her brothers it was
a little different because she did love her family, but she had honestly
never cared for her little brat of a cousin. It brought her some amusement
to see him so distressed at Imp having stolen his favorite toy, a little
painted wooden frog that he loved to carry with him everywhere. He was
loud, obnoxious, annoying, dense, everything that Nia hated. She wasn't
even sure he was really her cousin, being as the little rat was a human, and
she knew her father had no siblings. That meant that he would have had to
come from her father's first wife, which made him no relation of hers. Why
should she be charged with caring for him?

Her attention waned from the chase, allowing herself to be drawn back into
her book to distract herself from the screaming children. She was vaguely
aware of a fight breaking out between the two, but didn't care enough to
think on the matter further until she heard a bloodcurdling scream, far
louder and more pain-filled than a simple scuffle should have provoked. She
looked up from her book with some mild concern and glanced at the two, Ketha
having pinned her cousin down on the ground and started punching him, though
Nia couldn't see too well from her vantage point. She rolled her eyes, set
down her book, and stood from her chair, walking over to the two children.
She was vaguely aware of her confusion as she looked down and saw the blood
covering the child's hands, the sharp stick she was wielding as a makeshift
weapon having already plunged into his flesh several times and seemingly
pierced his eyeball. The wound was gruesome, the child no longer thrashing
or struggling but laying still, too still. Ketha's eyes were welling up
with tears, the painted frog she clutched in her free hand a gory shade of
red, the stick still stabbing downwards in the other.

Nia reached down and wrapped her arms around her little sister, pulling her
up from the body and taking her away from it. She petted the child's hair
softly as she cooed calming words into her ear... It's okay, don't worry
about it, it was an accident, accidents happen, fighting can get people hurt
you know? She carried her little sister into the house and sat her down
near a washbasin, taking the time to scrub the blood from her face, her
hands, out from underneath her nails, and off of the little wooden frog
before fetching one of her favorite sweets and setting her to a nap, her new
froggy friend sitting proudly on the pillow beside her head.

Writer: Niantha

Date Sat May 2 11:29:48 2015

To All maricela ketha lobos tyrrion arkane imm fatale RP

Subject Playing Rough, part 2 of 2

Only then did she bother to return her attention to the body laying
outside on the grass, staining green blades with crimson hue. She leaned
down and inspected the boy's body. She pressed a finger idly to the side of
his neck. She watched his chest, and noticed the tell-tale rise and fall of
breathing, though shallow and ragged. She felt under her fingertip the beat
of a pulse, thin and thready, but still present.

"Still alive, hmm? "

She looked back to the house. Ketha would be okay for a while. Tyrrion and
Lobos had gone out hunting for dinner, and would not return for hours. She
had some time to play herself. She giggled, a rush of excitement at the
game she was about to play overtaking her as she grabbed the boy's arm,
dragging him over to the woodshed on the outskirts of the family's property.
She nearly trembled with the anticipation as she dropped the boy's arm, then
bound him wrist and ankle, shoving a wad of cloth into his mouth to muffle
his screams when he awoke, which she hoped would be soon. The sound of her
dagger leaving its sheath sent an electric thrill through her mind, sharply
echoed at the feeling of the first cut of steel into flesh. The sound of a
sharply inhaled breath followed by a muted wail of primal agony came as
music to her delicately pointed ears. She brought the blade to her lips,
savoring the first precious drops from the tip of the blade, salty with a
tang of copper. She smiled warmly down at her cousin, his one good eye
filled with mortal terror.

He was alive, yes. She wondered idly for how long. She so hated it when
her toys broke too soon.

Writer: Ozleust

Date Sat May 2 16:48:02 2015

Writer: Melgrift

Date Sun May 3 09:50:38 2015

Writer: Ilimilipili

Date Sun May 3 10:37:20 2015

Writer: Azbogah

Date Sun May 3 18:22:43 2015

Writer: Saiboth

Date Sun May 3 21:53:18 2015

Writer: Letholdus

Date Sun May 3 23:28:37 2015

Writer: Segovax

Date Sun May 3 23:42:05 2015

Writer: Leadero
Date Mon May 4 02:12:24 2015

To All Liviya Lirexa New_Thalos

Subject A Late Night

Sitting within the House of the Burning Sands, Leadero stared down at
the neatly organized papers in front of him. It was late, the moons already
in their downward descent toward the dawn as he nursed the last inch of his
whiskey and contemplated his work. Each page of carefully inked parchment
contained numerous details; lists of trade rates, expected sales, marketing
plans and interview results mingled with renovation plans that included
costs of materials and sustainable or alternative resources. It was a lot
and the stacks were thick, totaling four in all. Overall, he was quite
pleased with what he had managed to accomplish in only a couple of days.
New Thalos was truly proving to be a land of possibility - and this was only
his first few days. His tired, and drink addled, mind briefly considered
what it might mean for the future.

Picking up his glass, the half ogre teenager knocked back the last of his
whiskey and carefully placed the empty glass on the table. His gloved hands
picked up each stack, rolling them into individual scrolls and sealing them
with a black ribbon and wax. He then placed them All in a leather satchel
and entrusted their delivery to a runner, adding a couple of extra gold
coins to ensure it was done swiftly and securely. When that was done, he
reached into his waistcoat and withdrew a pair of parchments, unfolding them
and setting them on the table.

On one parchment was a crude drawing. Despite the numerous lessons, and
great pains his mother had gone through, he had never developed a talent for
drawing. Basic blueprints and geometric shapes were not beyond his ability,
but the attempt at a coat of arms was so butchered as to be nearly
unrecognizable. What should have been a beautiful image of a noble beast
and tiny details of symbolism could arguable be considered the work of a
Kender after ten cups of coffee.

On the second parchment was a list.

Names, lined up neatly on the left and right sides, were scribbled out,
scratched out, and blotted away until only a few were legible. These were
what his slightly blood shot eyes latched on to. He read them over and over
again as he sat there, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Though they
were just letters strung together on a parchment, he had inherited more of
his mother than his father, and that meant names held great importance to
him. His choice was not a light one to make, and whatever his final
decision it would change the course of his life.

He was disturbed, finally, by an alley cat rubbing against his leg. He
looked down and watched as the small beast purred and twined about his lower
limb, arching its back as it begged. He reached across the table and tore a
few pieces off of the lamb he had half eaten, tossing it onto the ground.
While the cat set to ravenously, he noted how the animal had an extra thick
ruff, making it look almost like a miniature lion. Glancing back to his
list, he picked up the parchment and brought it closer, eyes focusing on one
name near the bottom right.

Yes, it would do. More importantly, it would be a name he could proudly
pass on as a means of connecting the past to the future.

Writer: Jonathen
Date Mon May 4 08:28:20 2015

Writer: Segovax
Date Mon May 4 09:09:49 2015

Writer: Ruydiez
Date Mon May 4 15:40:47 2015

Writer: Ashbie
Date Mon May 4 18:58:46 2015

To Verminasia All Immortal Roleplay

Subject The Day the Music Died p1

Ashbie never thought that she'd be prowling the streets looking for the
Elf known as Ilimilipili. It had been Ilimilipili that had been the
catalyst for Ashbie leaving Verminasia a couple of years ago. Their feud
had been everything except bloody, and Ashbie had lost, leaving Verminasia
shamed and with her figurative tail tucked between her legs. The fire of
rage within her chest had bid her to kill the Elf.

However, Ilimilipili had been good for Verminasia, and so Ashbie had stayed
her hand. She spent her time in the dungeon, learning to hone her rage and
become a smarter adversary rather than one that always jumped for her
blade. Even though she'd spent awhile amongst the Dungeon's finest
fighters, Ashbie hadn't really involved herself in the fray too much.
Eventually the King had called her back, and Ilimilipili was still there.

Ashbie was Commander of the Verminasian Royal Army and Ilimilipili was
a Captain in the Armada. They were equals once more, but their rivalry
had evolved. Ashbie wasn't sure how much Ilimilipili had changed, Elves
were far slower to do so, but Ashbie felt she'd aged a decade rather than
the year she had been away.

The street that Ashbie was on was dark, quiet, and narrow. She was leaning
into a wall on one side and her feet touched up against the wall on the
other. Granted, Ashbie was tall for a human, and especially tall for a
woman, but this was more of an alley than a street. Nevertheless, it had a
name and Ashbie was waiting here for her confidant.

There was a light breeze that played against the night air, giving an
extra chill to an otherwise mild night. The street smelled too much of
waste and excrement, it had the overwhelming stench of city to it and
made Ashbie long for the open air of Sacnoth.

Ashbie thought back to Ilimilipili in her garden. She'd invited Ashbie
alone, the very thought of which had raised up old guards and worries.
However, Ilimilipili had become Admiral and Ashbie was a General, there
were plenty of reasons for the invitation, so Ashbie went. Instead of a
dagger in her back, Ashbie found
a friend, and a reasonable offer of co-training between the Armada and the
Army. Their rivalry was still there, simmering beneath the smiles, but had
become something different, something encouraging.

"Pistol?" Said a quiet voice, almost like the hush of a breeze. Ashbie
nearly missed the sound of it, jolted back to reality.

"Aye, I'm here." She said, shifting her weight a little and looking towards
the entrance of the street. Standing before her was a small, wiry man with
a face that reminded her All too much of a weasel. He was a walking cliche.

"I didn't find much, in truth. Searched for three days, used All of my
contacts. You owe me thirty blue diamonds by the way." The weasel-man
said. Ashbie frowned and reached into her purse, tossing them over one at
a time.

"Well, what did you find then?" She asked, still tossing over the blues.

"Last place anyone reliable spotted her was the Skull and Crossbones
pub, said she looked mighty disturbed." The man said, pocketing the blue
diamonds as quick as they were thrown over.

Ashbie found herself blinking, and tossed the last blue diamond wide.
"Disturbed?" She asked, shifting her weight. Ilimilipili was the very
image of a Devionite. She hid so much behind her laughter and smiles. There
was no question of her ambition or intellect, but she didn't let many see
that side of her that didn't join along in life's joke.

"Aye, and now she seems to have vanished. Gone. Some say she been murdered,
had it coming and such. But no corpse. No nothing. Just gone." The man

"Well, bloody hell then." Ashbie said, she turned away from the man, making
a dismissive motion with her hand.

"Aye, General," He said.

"Not here. Here, I'm Pistol." Ashbie glanced over her shoulder and the man
nodded before leaving.

Writer: Ashbie
Date Mon May 4 18:59:39 2015

To Verminasia All Immortal Roleplay

Subject The Day the Music Died p2

Ashbie felt a surge of something deep in her gut, it was as if it was
twisting over itself. She stood up and turned the direction she was facing,
away from the main road only a dozen or so feet away. Ashbie pressed a
forearm against her stomach and gazed down at the ground. The light didn't
quite reach the cobblestone pavement, though she wasn't looking to actually
see the ground.

"Bloody hells, Ili..." Ashbie whispered, "Not supposed to be missing you.
You better be alive." She sighed a little and wheeled around towards the
main road, stepping out into it quickly as if running from something.

The streets of Verminasia were always busy, though a bit less so in the
dead of the night as they were now. Ashbie was dressed in dark clothes and
a dark cloak. As General of Verminasia's armies, there were certain
unsavory elements that she didn't want to spook. Officially, she wasn't
supposed to endorse them. Verminasia may have been the city of evil, but
there were still laws to follow. Unofficially, she relied on those unsavory
elements for a lot of what needed doing.

Ilimilipili had been the same. It was as though they were cut from the
same cloth in so many ways, yet they couldn't have been more different. It
was better to say that they were different sides of the same cloth.
Ilimilipili was a complex, weaving pattern, one that seemed to change
whenever you looked at it. She had layers upon layers to her person. Ashbie
was just a bold color, or perhaps striped or polka dotted. There was still
plenty to her, but it was far more straight forward.

Ashbie made herself two different people when she dealt with the underworld
of Algoron's cities. Ilimilipili sat there with the same smile, the same
look, and yet few could have claimed to truly know her. She was capricious
and yet she could look at you with eyes that knew the somber stories of a
weary world. Ilimilipili acted like a fool as often as not, yet she had
the wisdom of a sage when one parsed through the nonsense.

Ashbie loved her. Not as one loves in a romantic sense. Nor even
necessarily how one loved a friend. Ashbie appreciated Ilimilipili for
everything that she was: friend, enemy, fighter, spirit, and being.

There was a certainty in her heart that told Ashbie that Ilimilipili
wasn't dead, yet her presence had certainly left Verminasia. For that,
the world felt a bit dimmer. Ashbie would have to make peace with that.
Sighing, she kicked a stray rock on the otherwise well-paved road and
watched it skip along the even cobblestones and off into the darkness of
yet another street-alley.

Ilimilipili could appear at any moment from any of them, strolling out and
laughing at Ashbie. Yet, in her heart, Ashbie knew she wouldn't. If ever
the Elf returned to Verminasia, she was certainly gone for now.

Writer: Segovax
Date Tue May 5 09:43:06 2015

Writer: Brollo
Date Tue May 5 17:40:19 2015

To All Wargar Thaxanos (Kyri Raije Imm RP)

Subject That's How the Cookie Crumbles... I

Brollo Rockhead sat amid a pile of small boulders and stalagmites deep within
the vast network of natural caves and carved tunnels beneath the great dwarven
city of Thaxanos. It was his favorite spot, away from the bustle of life and
quiet enough to suit his moods, often somber as of late.

Spread out before him and set in a landscape of his own making, Brollo
commanded armies!

Armies of elves hid among piled bits of fungus or sat high atop mushroom caps,
both materials found and harvested from the natural caves. A few gnome or yinn
mages supported the vicious and evil elves with nefarious magics at the ready.

storyn Not far from these insidious hordes (and better situated to any dwarven mind)
was the dwarven hosts, backed by steep rocky cliffs (big rocks) and flanked by
piled boulders (smaller rocks) on both sides that would serve as a barrier in
case the evil forest dwellers tried to outmaneuver the steadfast and heroic
dwarven battle lines.

Brollo carefully placed the dwarf on the field, a runesmith (sort of) standing
behind a grouping of foot soldiers to protect it. A piece of the "runesmith"
broke off as he tried to mash it down into place, and he swore in anger!

Gonner have te get tha' lass te start mixin en some mithril weth tha' dough,
he mused when he finally had the cookie set. A small chip had broken off the
cookie's "helmet" and it made the figure of the runesmith look rather shabby.

Shaking off the disappointing injury to one of his prized possessions, he
surveyed the field once more, noting where weaknesses might occur in the
dwarven lines. He shifted some of the dwarven support as he imagined the best
way to make up for the gaps in defenses.

"Course, them damned root smoochers'd find ah way still te ruin ah gude fight
weth their cheatin' ways!" the fiery tempered battlerager swore as he continued
to study the arrayed armies.

In his mind's eye, Brollo imagined the assault: the high-pitched screams of
his hated foes against the bellowing answer of his kin - the clash of steel upon
steel - arcanium shields, studded with glowing runes of protection, held by stout
dwarven lads against the glowing blades of the elven bladesingers - the arcane
utterances on both sides as the purity of dwarven magics were thrown against
the wicked sorcery of the weaker elven mages - but, most of all, he imagined
the charges of battleragers like an avalanche of death, covering row after row
of thin, squeaky elves and flattening them into a bloody mass of hacked limbs
and other squishy parts that wriggled in the wake of his guild.

"Glorious! Glory te Raije an' glory te tha Mountain, Lads! Cut them damn heads
off, ah'm sayin! Cut 'em clean off!"

After a while of imaginary wargames, the stout warrior eased himself down and
sat upon the rocky floor. He rested his back against a large block of granite,
skillfully cut by a former miner. Often used by the dwarf as a table of sorts,
he could feel its chilly surface against him. He found the coolness to be
rather comforting in the stuffy tunnels. This far beneath the surface, the air
tended to get hot and "old."

-Continued in Part 2!

Writer: Brollo
Date Tue May 5 17:46:13 2015

To All Wargar Thaxanos (Kyri Raije Imm RP)

Subject That's How the Cookie Crumbles... II

He thought of the last several weeks in his life: the fighting he had done upon
the field, his clan's fight against Bloodlust, but mostly he thought about the
Stein Cup competition.

Finally! He had finally won one! He hefted the glittering cup from where it lay
among his possessions, letting his eyes run over the gleaming surfaces and the
absolute perfection of its crafting. A dwarf appreciated a thing well made, and
the cup was exceptional by any standard of craftsmanship.

Similar to the cup, he had felt his fighting had been exceptional on the day of
the competition, and he let his pride at winning rise to the surface of his
mind. So many of his battles over the years had been bittersweet, at best, and
downright painful at their worst...yes, it was nice to win one for once.

His fighting had improved upon the field too, or so he thought to himself. He
had gone out alone, teamed up with allies and challenged a score of warriors to
a fight: whatever it took! And like most times, he'd found some success and
some...well, not-success. He frowned at that, but nodded his head in
acceptance All the same.

The Clan War fight he'd taken part in had been different, though. Not only was
he disappointed in the outcome of his part of the fight, but he was still rather
embarrassed, as well. That wouldn't do at all!

"Had me stumblin' an' bumblin' like ah frest recruit, they did," he mused

Hopefully, Raije had forgiven him for the loss of the three on three fight he'd
helped to lose. He said a prayer under his breath (as he often did) that he'd
miraculously become immune to All magical spells cast by his enemies. One day,
maybe it'd get answered...

"Well, ah cannae dwell on et forever, ah s'pose! Time te get back te arse
whoopin, er tha lads'll think ah've gone soft en tha heart."

Resolute, he rose from his resting spot, gathered up his "armies," scattered his
battlefield so that it could be arranged differently on his next visit and
began the march home.

- The End

*Disclaimer* No actual cookies were harmed during the making of this
story note. All cookies are innocent until proven guilty, and the
identities of some cookies were changed to protect the innocent.

Writer: Laiton

Date Wed May 6 14:32:22 2015

Writer: Laiton

Date Wed May 6 14:34:48 2015

Writer: Zaemeiel
Date Wed May 6 15:06:37 2015

Writer: Andreyna
Date Wed May 6 21:12:32 2015

Writer: Jaidyn
Date Thu May 7 03:57:27 2015

To Nordmaar Ganth All kingdoms Devlin Megan Segovax Seredath Reagan Gabhran Jarlebanke Saiboth Marian Kynthelig Scorn Zypher Derigimus Kyri Cahlizna RP IMM Raije Austinian Necrucifer

Subject The Oncoming Storm (Act III: The Moment of Truth, The Battle Begins)

Mounted high atop his warhorse, Jaidyn re-rolled the scroll he had just
read and put it into the saddle bag at his side.

As per your suggestion, I will not be leading an assault into our people. I
shall remain within our walls so that I can co-ordinate from here as the
battle evolves. You have my deepest respect for the position you have
placed yourself.. And I envy your chance to gain glory on the field. Come
home safely.

Devlin MacCallum.

He was positioned now at the crest of the ridge line, visible across the
long flat plains to any hostile eyes far across that field as a dark spot
against the horizon. From his vantage he could see the minotaur flooding
out of the gates and attacking the siege ram, ahead of schedule. He shook
his head. "So much for the battle plan... "

He almost laughed. The minotaur were supposed to have waited for the

He glanced over at the young lieutenant from Marian's division. "Is time.
Inform All companies. The period for stealth is over. Ve are going to move
out of concealment, and I vant the song of the pipes to sound out across the
battlefield. I want our brainwashed people to hear that music as ve charge
up. Maybe it will shake them out of their stupor. Inform Marian that she
is to command the archers and spellcasters on this high hill. Hold the high
ground and make sure if the yinn appear suddenly, they get a taste of vhat
they have coming. She is to cover us vhile ve deal vith the captives.
Kynthelig is to stay by the tar pits and subdue the captives as ve retreat,
then lead them avay from the field and back to Nordmaar. Their safety is
first priority.
" The young woman nodded, acknowledging the order as she
turned her horse, riding off behind the well formed battalions.

Jaidyn drew his blunt club and held it high. "All-Father!!!!! " he cried,
followed by a second loud bellow of "Nordmaar!!! ". Directing the tip
forward, he spurred his horse into motion. Behind him, All the Nordmaarian
troops began to surge forward over the ridge line and down the gently
sloping hill, quickly tightening ranks as they came out upon the flat
ground. From behind the highland army, a bright BLUE FLARE fired high into
the air, exploding into a fireball of the same color which hung suspended in
the sky for several moments, before very slowly starting its fall back
towards ground. The signal would be visible for miles around.

Behind him, bag pipes began to play the tune of a time honored highland war
match. Their shrill loud song rang out across the far distant field as the
army began to close the distance towards the magically controlled human
captives with tremendous speed. Cavalry led the way, backed up by kilt clad
celts and viking warriors carrying massive shields holding tight infantry
formations. All were armed with clubs, their true weapons resting in their
sheathes within easy reach.

The army marched with precision, units along the flanks guarding against the
possibility of a sudden appearance by the unseen yinn. Those spellcasters
not left behind within Marian's division busily scanning about with their
detection spells.

As the highland force charged up behind the magically controlled human
captives, Jaidyn yelled "Citizens of Nordmaar!!! You have been enspelled by
the foul yinn into attacking minotaur city! As minister of defense, I order
you to stand down! Lower your weapons and accompany us off the battlefield
in peace! Ve vill take you back to your homes, and you vill be reunited
with your families! Highlanders! Fight off the yinn magic that clouds your
minds! Remember vho you are!

The viking king held his breath. All hinged upon their reaction. If they
could not break free, he would give the order to attack, conduct the feint,
and then fall back, drawing the captives into the sticky tar pits. He just
hoped they would be strong enough to come to their senses before that became

Writer: Gabhran

Date Thu May 7 05:42:37 2015

Writer: Cieran

Date Thu May 7 09:02:19 2015

Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu May 7 09:12:08 2015

Writer: Gorrakh

Date Thu May 7 10:06:52 2015

To Justice All Imm Nazca Kyri Roleplay

Subject Sabaktes Returns

Gorrakh sat on the bench, absent-mindedly flicking a tiny ball of something
into the fireplace as he looked around the empty room. "Another morning alone
to patrol," he said to himself as he stood and wiped his fingers off on his
pants. Gathering up his weapons, he headed for the exit where he saw a huge
form bounding toward the Wrath.

As Gorrakh began to close the gates, he noticed it was a familiar face atop
the hulking Giant Ogre's form. A face he'd battled alongside countless times
against any number of enemies. A face he knew had turned its back on the
Wrath, and caused many a death among his comrades.

Gorrakh knew the Ogre was coming to smash in the gate and take back the
Wrath, in the name of the Dungeon. Looking down at his hammer and sword,
Gorrakh sighed, shrugged and stepped out to try and stop his former ally and
friend. He knew this was a fight he could not win. He only hoped to slow the
beast enough to allow others to bar his entrance.

His eyes widened when he saw something unexpected. A torn and battered blue
and white banner being carried by Sabaktes as he headed for the gates. There
was no need to fight! The Giant Ogre was returning home, to continue the fight
against Evil.

Gorrakh followed his former leader back into the Wrath, and stood with him
before the fireplace. Opening a dust-covered trunk, Gorrakh pulled out a
massive Captain's uniform.

Without as much as a word, Gorrakh threw the garb up to Sabaktes, and bid
him wear it. The rank of Captain, achieved within moments of re-entering the
hall after spending so long in the Dungeon was sure to upset All of Algoron.

We Sabaktes stood there in full uniform, Lord Taranys entered, with a stern
look on his face. "What's this?" the human asked, angrily. "The traitor is
not to hold rank without proving his loyalty, what were you thinking?" he
turned his glare to Gorrakh.

Before the bandit could respond, Sabaktes looked down at Taranys and said,
Yuz lurd now, gud. Ogur not lik polticks.

"Giving a taste of what he lost," Gorrakh responded, as he looked up to face
Sabaktes. "Remember the feeling of those bars on your arms. Earn it back,
smash everything in the way."

Sabaktes, the newest recruit of the Wrath of Justice just nodded, then headed
out the gate to find his first target, ready to smash his way back to the top.

[ Slayers ] Uryu got RAMPAGED by Sabaktes [ Justice ]

Writer: Megan

Date Thu May 7 11:56:01 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Thu May 7 12:07:12 2015

Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu May 7 17:25:03 2015

To All althainia imm RP

Subject Fw: Fw: Wargames - Rescue, Day 1

| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rellinath
| To: mercerion rellinath garen cieran rionan
| Subject: Fw: Wargames - Rescue, Day 1
| Date: Fri Apr 24 18:18:53 2015

| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rellinath
| To: All mercerion aliera mahalia althainia imm RP
| Subject: Wargames - Rescue, Day 1
| Date: Fri Apr 24 17:42:01 2015

Rellinath wheeled his mount, Durandal, about to face the men gathered on
the border between the forest of Shalonesti and Althaninan territory. The
look on his face was dead serious as he regarded his men... Knights on loan
from the Lord Templar, his own Cavalrymen riding steeds bred for battle, the
Infantrymen and Pikemen standing in rank behind them, and the Archers, plus
a Wizard and a Cleric to one side. He gave reassuring nods to his
commanders... Cieran, on assignment leading the pikemen, his powers over
the forces of nature able to enhance their already formidable ability to
disrupt and break cavalry charges. To Garen, a pure duelist if ever there
was one, standing dead serious as always at the head of a large group of
infantrymen. Rionan, a new citizen of the Empire and competant spellcaster,
standing holding a discussion on magical theory with the Wizard. He stopped
in front of the gathered forces, a small strike force under his command with
a very specific, very personal mission in mind.

"All right, you lot, ATTENTION! " The murmuring and chattering among the
men drew quickly to a halt.

"Heres the situation. One week ago, we lost contact with a scout in
Western Althainia who was investigating reports of suspicious activity. The
scout's mount has been found, wounded and riderless. Her current condition
is unknown. Current location, unknown. Last known location was on the
northern edge of the marshlands near Abaddon. Our mission is to locate the
asset and return her to safety in allied territory. All other concerns are
secondary at this point. Another military force has been spotted in the
search area, possibly looking for our asset. Their affiliation is unknown,
but presumed hostile. Once we have retrieved and secured the asset, we have
liberty to engage these forces if we so choose. However, until the asset is
secured, I want minimal enemy contact, with no engagement unless absolutely

He looked over the assembled horsemen. "I will be taking command of you
lot. We make directly for the point of last contact with our asset.
Rionan, you and the Wizard will join forces with our archers and shadow us
to the east. Stay close, and keep alert. This will widen our search path
along the most likely route that our scout would use if she were to try
returning to Althainia on her own. Garen and Cieran, you will take the rest
of our forces and set up a rear vanguard halfway between Abaddon and
Althainia. Once we have located and retrieved our scout, we will rally with
you, and you will cover our retreat into Althainia. After the scout is
secured, we will return to you and make the decision as to whether or not to
engage the enemy or sound a full retreat. If the rear vanguard is engaged
directly by enemy forces and destroyed, the search team will instead return
to the Shalonesti border before returning home, to avoid enemy forces. Any

One man stepped forward. "Sir, do we know the identity of the scout? "

Rellinath's eyes flashed dangerously. "The scout is Mahalia Mamoritai. "

"... My wife. "

Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu May 7 17:25:22 2015

To All althainia imm RP

Subject Fw: On the Hunt

| -----Original Message-----
| From: Rellinath
| To: mercerion garen aliera rionan cieran
| Subject: On the Hunt
| Date: Thu May 7 09:12:08 2015

Rellinath let out a shrill whistle, sounding much like a bird's calling,
his men drawing to a halt around him. Minah had once again been his eyes
and ears where he needed them, and her keen hearing had picked something up
that everyone else had missed. Maybe it was Mahalia... Maybe not. Either
way, they needed to know what was going on.

He called to his forward patrols, instructing them to search around,
following Minah's direction. But carefully... The time for a fight was not
yet upon the search party, he hoped. They needed to see what was out there,
but they needed to avoid drawing attention to themselves for as long as
possible. His orders to his men were explicit... Advance, scout, seek. If
it was Mahalia, they were to rescue her so they could bring her home. If
was an enemy and the enemy were to spot them, they would fall back, trying
to lure them into an ambush... In the wilds out here, the advantage fell to
Rellinath and his knowledge of the tricks and secrets of nature, his
understanding of stealth and surprise. If the enemy could be drawn into a
bad position, they could be eliminated quickly, too quickly for anyone to
take notice.

One exception, he warned his men. Sometimes, you had to be aggressive, to
take the lead and destroy the enemy before they had a chance to destroy you.
So if it was an enemy out there, and it was crossbowmen or archers, or
another wizard like his own, they were to strike without mercy.

He called for the advance. He hoped it was Mahalia, and not some hostile
force that he'd be forced to deal with. The last thing he really wanted
getting between him and ensuring his beloved was safe and sound in
Althainia's walls again was an enemy he didn't really want to fight anyway.

But, he thought to himself grimly, if there WAS an enemy out there, and they
DID stand between him and Mahalia, then may the gods have mercy on them,
because he sure as hell wouldn't!

Writer: Kaelowyth

Date Thu May 7 21:27:03 2015

Writer: Mahalia

Date Fri May 8 21:44:29 2015

To Althainia All Imm Rp

Subject War Games - VIP Day 1

The Shadow Grove was already a miserable place to navigate, and that was
before having her horse taken and being quite unceremoniously dumped there
with her right leg lashed so tightly that she was not sure she could feel
her toes. Granted, she was injured for the sake of the exercise and this
would certainly keep her from going too far in one day, but she might also
go crazy being so encumbered. Mahalia looked around, attempting to figure
out where in the grove she was and noted her surroundings or rather, the
lack of change in them. Every direction looked the same.

The sigh that accompanied the renewed realization was instantly lost in the
moans and growls that seemed to assault any traveler to this place from all
sides, and she was suddenly glad she did not have to focus on others.
Taking or giving orders in this place could be a nightmare... But she did
have orders, to get home. Shadow filled mists crept along both the ground
and trees, curling around trunks and branches alike, and an almost sentient
feeling dampness, inherent to the area even cloaked her boots almost
entirely from view. There was a sameness to the forest that could quickly
get her lost and even further behind in her goal.

Another sigh was lost to the ambient sounds of the grove and Mahalia looked
up, attempting to peer through the haze and the mists to locate the sun.
Just overhead to the right there was a slightly brighter spot in the sky and
it had been nearly the noon hour when they started bandaging her leg.
Putting the obscure ball of light in the sky to her back, she slowly started
moving through the grove with one goal, Althainia was east.

Writer: Mahalia
Date Fri May 8 21:50:55 2015

To Althainia All Imm Rp

Subject War Games - VIP Part 2

Dusk was settling in and with it even further reservations about spending
the night in this place. After watching the man for over an hour Mahalia
finally made the decision to approach him, hanging a hope and half a prayer
on the fact that he might know the way out of this particularly infernal
piece of Claith's creation.

She moved slowly, purposely trying not to startle a man in the near darkness
with a blade. The affect she gave however, this close to Abaddon, with her
leg bound, coming slowly out of the mists and dark was anything but the
affect she was trying for. In a staggering motion of his own, the man swung
his sword in her general direction, causing her to dive for the underbrush
in her own attempt to draw her weapon. Of course her father had left her
with exactly one sword. Mahalia grumbled as she drew the blade, the edge on
it nearly as sharp as the edge of a spoon, almost. This was a wargame after
all, her weapons were stowed at home where no real harm would come to anyone
in the mock battles. And she would of course, now need to fight for her
life against a half crazed man convinced she was undead, with a dull blade.

The ensuing battle, if it could be called that was a rash of newly
sharpened, swinging blade against spoon-dull length of metal Mahalia had
found in her sword sheath. Mentally cursing her father as well as anyone
else involved in getting her here without a proper sword, she swung again in
just enough time to block the imprecise but no less passionate attack aimed
at her and roll out of the way. Issuing a number of profanities along with
calling her every undead creature she had heard off, the man made chase
after in a crashing fury as Mahalia scrambled through the brush as best as
she could while still bound.

A metallic clang cut through the deafening moans and growls of the area as
the sword struck plate, and a thankful prayer left her lips at the fact that
she was at least in her breastplate. Pure shock and adrenaline from the
battle kept her attention focused more on fighting for her life and not the
resulting slice through the upper part of her arm that had accompanied the
strike to the chest. In an effort to escape her crazed attacker, Mahalia
delivered a possibly dishonorable and swift kick to the nether regions of
the man, his hands dropping down to attempt to further protect his manhood
and loosing the blade in the process. He was just a moment too late.
Grabbing the sword, Mahalia turned it on her attacker with her back to the
ground, cursing the fact that her bound leg for this 'exercise' might cost
her more than steps and days, it could cost her life. The blood was seeping
from the wound to her right arm now and she switched the blade to her left
as she attempting to locate the man in the darkness.

The first rock missed the mark, falling a foot to the left of her head and
causing Mahalia to jump up as best as one can with a bound leg, nearly
toppling over in the process. The second, nearly caught her in temple,
scratching the skin and causing blood to seep into her vision. Swinging
blind, she felt the blade catch against something before being washed in a
heated spray as the man fell to the ground. She was safe, now to get out of
this blasted grove.

A trail of carefully broken, yet partially hidden twigs marked her path,
along with an unnoticed smear of crimson amongst the leaves. She would not
retrace her steps again, shifting grove or not, she was going home.

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Sat May 9 05:37:02 2015

Writer: Kynthelig
Date Sat May 9 05:58:30 2015

Writer: Leadero
Date Sat May 9 20:17:16 2015

To All New_Thalos | Necrucifer Imm RP |

Subject The Keep of Kalib-Dur - The Beginning

The Keep of Kalib-Dur. Also called the Sand Fortress. At one time, it
was the furthest human settlement within the desert, a way station out
in the vast, rolling dunes of sand to allow caravans a place to stop
and rest. From atop the dunes, gazing down into the black reaches
below, the eyes could pick out nothing. The giant stone walls stood
silent and empty, like great and silent sentinels abandoned in a place
where time no longer moved.

A long time was passed laying atop the dune, hidden beneath a tanned
skin. He did not move. Scorpions crawled past and over. The wind that
blew deposited sand atop and still he did not move. His stomach made
growls of hunger, but he did not eat. When his bladder pained him, he
simply released where he was, allowing the sands to soak it up. The
all powerful sun, which ruled their lives as surely as their own
natures, rose and then set. Through the heat of the day and the chill
of the night, still he did not move. Only when the moon rose into the
midst of the sky did he finally crawl forward.

Through the day, he had seen nothing. Not a shadowy flicker. No slow
and furtive movements; no rapid and panicked darts for cover. Even
the few and hungry beasts of this part of the dunes appeared to stay
well away from the stone walls of Kalib-Dur. It set his teeth on edge
and the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. Now, it was his
turns to see the inside. With great care, keeping the hide over his
back, he slowly crawled down the side of the dune, going at an angle
and a pace agonizingly slow, just as he had been taught years before.

Pushing open the great gate took All of his strength, his muscles
straining against the exertion. There was no squeaking, no screeching,
only the soft clatter of wood against stone, muffled by the sands.
He made only enough space to slip inside, then immediately pressed
himself back against the stone, sliding sideways into the deeper and
darker shadows. The moment his eyes adjusted and he saw the scene
before him, he bit back a growl.

The great courtyard was a grisly scene of chaos and death. Ancient
skeletons littered the ground, broken and left where they had fallen.
They were garbed in their ancient armors, stained black by whatever
force had also managed to turn the ground into a shimmering surface.
He moved forward slowly, his eyes slowly and carefully scanning his
surroundings one section at a time so that he was less likely to miss
any details or hidden threats. He paused only to kneel and touch the
ground, his fingertips reaching out to touch the ground and discover
that the shiny substance was, in fact, glass. Most disconcerting as
his eyes picked up even more of the shimmer All about the courtyard.
As he had once said to Viona, like recognized like and whatever had
happened here was of the same ilk he had been born of.

As he went to stand, something prickled on the edge of his awareness
and sent a warning along his spine. Only through years of relentless
training did he spring forward, rolling out of the way rather than
rising fully into a stand. As he spun about, unsheathing his sword
and raising it in defense, the wraith bore down upon him with an
unworldly screech. The thing was the essence of nightmares, its form
not substantial, wreathed in the tattered and blackened robes; its
clawed, bony fingers matched the drawn, eyeless face as it surged
after him.

The creature was formidable, hissing and crying out in rage as it
attempted to reach his flesh, but was blocked by his sword and his
shield. However, where his body was conditioned from day after day
of rigorous training, he was only powered by the strength they held
and the will to use them. He was no match for the unliving madness
and hatred that compelled the wraith to continue to pursue him. As
his songs fell on ears that did not hear, he knew he had walked in
to a place he could not yet tame. His pride stinging, he leaped
out of the way.

Writer: Leadero
Date Sat May 9 20:17:48 2015

To All New_Thalos | Necrucifer Imm RP |

Subject The Keep of Kalib-Dur - The Beginning (2)

Rolling, he left behind the angry wail of the wraith, but only for
a moment. He had just enough time to stand and look about at the
ruins of the grand hall, blood dripping down the side of his face
from one of the wraith's blows. He saw the now familiar blackened
corpses of the keep's defenders, and got a glimpse of some thing
that was grotesquely bloated and an odd green color. There were a
set of stairs leading upward that seemed capable of bearing weight
and that was All he had time to truly take in. As the wraith came
at him once more, he ducked beneath a blow and ran for it.

He would return later, and more prepared. Task or none, he was now
curious about the power that had lain waste to the fortress. As
sweat dripped down his face, he stopped at the top of the dune to
look back over his shoulder. He needed to grow stronger, and so he

Writer: Berlanin
Date Sun May 10 12:29:50 2015

Writer: Jainie
Date Sun May 10 14:04:09 2015

Writer: Jainie
Date Sun May 10 14:22:45 2015

Writer: Leadero
Date Mon May 11 02:24:47 2015

To All New_Thalos Liviya Lirexa | Necrucifer Imm RP |

Subject The Growing Pains

The day dedicated to Mothers came, and then went. Leadero lay on the massive
bed in his mother's manse. To his left, Liviya and Lirexa lay soundly asleep
while he lingered awake into the night. On his chest lay a parchment that, at
an earlier point in the day, had held a design that he had planned on turning
into a gift. That moment had never come, as he had failed to find materials
suitable enough; nor had he been able to locat an Artisan able to help him in
its making.

His mother, as benevolent as she was, had said that she would wait for his
gift, which pleased him. To make it up to her, as she visited with him and
Lirexa, along with Viona and Vershae, in the house of Dyaki Tatchkoma, he had
gone out into the desert once more. His axe sliced with ease through creatures
that had, at one point, been too much for him to handle. He mucked up several
attempts to butcher the creatures, but had eventually been able to return
with a small bundle of goods - a condor leg, some entrails of an oversized
beetle, and the white goo that he and Viona had previously discovered inside
of a Thalosian Spider's egg sac. Which, of course, had prompted an interesting

Grinning to himself, he picked up the parchment and set it over on the side
table. He then carefully extracted his left arm, though the females still
stirred lightly and moved closer to each other. He worked the prickles and
kinks from his limb as he moved to the dresser, taking in the finery he had
worn for a few years. They no longer fit. Had not fit for some time, in fact,
but it had been a chore to get in touch with the tailors. He picked up each
item and with care, moved them into the armoire that would act as permanent
storage for the articles. He no longer needed mementos of his past. His time
in the present, and the outlook of his future, were far too comforting to
need the reminder.

As he placed the cape made from the fur of a white lion into the racks, a
voice tingled in his mind.

"Understand this...peace breeds complacency, if you allow it." The words
of Warden Vershae were as strong in his memory as they had been when they
were spoken in the midst of the ruins of Kalib-Dur. There, he had stood
amongst the wreckage, his body battered and bloodied by the wraiths, as he
learned about the price of complacency. "More than likely this place became
so comfortable with peace, other duties were neglected. The cityguard's
primary task it to ensure the safety of the city."

The memory was a sobering one, and made him turn around to look at the
two sleeping figures in the pile of blankets and covers. Both heads of
raven colored hair rested deep within the pillows, still and at peace. A
luxury that did not linger in rest, or the waking hours, as he had learned
during his long years in the Academy. Moreso, now, as he was entering the
true years of his adulthood and working daily to become a prominent member
of the kingdom, he realized the privilege of strength, and diligence. Both
were necessary if he intended to keep these brief, private moments for his
own sanity.

Picking up his training gear, he strapped everything into place in the
hallway. Though his body was weary and bruised, he knew he could push a
little further before he would have to rest. The time to grow stronger was
now, and he would not let it pass by him; over the next couple of years, as
he grew bigger and his body and mind stronger, he held true to his word,
never once letting an opportunity pass where he might gain even a little of
the strength that would allow him to preserve All that meant anything to

Writer: Merrida

Date Mon May 11 08:02:13 2015

Writer: Cailene

Date Mon May 11 14:36:35 2015


Subject A New Beginning (Part 1)

Cailene and Brajda walked into the clearing of what was left of his
pridelands, how desolate and lonely it looked now. No signs of life
anywhere and barely any vegetation to be seen. Brajda led them to a spot
close to where he had been born in a center of a clearing. She circled the
clearing concentrating on the strong power flowing from the earth. Once
done, she walked to the center of the clearing and it was that spot were
they began to prepare for the ritual of the ancestors. She dug a round pit
in the ground and lined it with stones as Brajda searched for dry firewood.
Once clearing concentrating on the strong power flowing from the earth.
Once done, she walked to the center of the clearing and it was that spot
were they began to prepare for the ritual of the ancestors. She dug a round
pit in the ground and lined it with stones as Brajda searched for dry
firewood. Once done, Brajda walked in with the firewood and she instructed
him to place it in the pit and sit down across from her and he did.

Cailene sat down across from him and crossed her legs. "Concentrate on the
Ancestors for their blessings.
He gave a slight nod as she watched as
Brajda closed his eyes. She outstretched her arms resting them palm up on
her knees, faced the sky, and closed her eyes "I call upon the Cailene sat
down across from him and crossed her legs. "Concentrate on the Ancestors
for their blessings.
He gave a slight nod as she watched as Brajda closed
his eyes. She outstretched her arms resting them palm up on her knees,
faced the sky, and closed her eyes "I call upon the ancestors of pride
Maasai, we wish to know you are here, show us a sign of your presence so we
may seek your blessings."
She waits a few moments and nothing happens. "I
call upon the the ancestors of pride Maasai, we wish to know you are here,
show us a sign of your presence so we may may seek your blessings."
skies become overcast with dark clouds as a streak of lightning flashes
through the sky dropping down and lighting the firepit.

She faces the fire and opens her eyes "Ancestors, your child Brajda comes to
you as the only living descendant of Maasai, he asks for your blessing to
lead your pride and build it to its once glory."
The ground begins to
shake slightly as a small break in the clouds forms, a ray of sunshine beams
down from the sky shining over Brajda's head. She smiles as she knows he
has received the ancestors blessing. "Ancestor's of the Maasai king, Braja
seeks his spirit companion, his companion of strength, honor, and pride,
send him his companion as only you can offer him."
The earth shakes once
again as a huge mist of a bison appears in the sky, red eyes and fiery
hooves drifts down and enters Brajda's body.

Cailene looks at Brajda "You can open your eyes now." Brajda opens his
eyes with a smile. He looks at her "What is next my love." She looks at
him with concern in her eyes. "No matter what happens you must stay where
you are. You cannot move or get in the way."
Brajda nods worriedly. "I
call upon the ancestors of Hania to release me from my bonds, I choose to
renouce Hania and All that it was. I speak to the ancestors of Maasai to
accept me into your fold."
The cloud above her head darkens to almost
black as a form of a black fox appears from out of it. In the white cloud
above Brajda the form of an massive eagle appears with extremely large

Writer: Cailene

Date Mon May 11 14:51:14 2015


Subject A New Beginning (Part 2 The End)

The fox, ready for its attack, drops down at Cailene at at a quick speed
trying its best to get at her as the massive eagle flies down and knocks the
fox off its mark. They go back into the sky, the fox peering at the eagle
furiously. It once again drops down as the eagle swoops down at it, but
this time the fox was quicker, cutting a deep gash in Cailene's arm before
the eagle finally attacked the fox. The fight ensues. The fox dodging at
the eagle and the eagle grabbing the fox with its sharp talons. The fox
thrashes about and gets loose from the eagles grip. The eagles dark eyes
peer at the black fox with as it attacks once again, but this time attacking
the foxes eyes and blindind it. The black fox gives up the fight and
disappears into the dark cloud as the black cloud fades into nothingness.
Brajda looking worriedly at the gash on her arm but does not move from his
spot. The eagle flying just above Cailene's head.

Cailene, exhausted from the battle and the blood loss, knowing Hania has
given up the fight, forces herself to continue. I call upon the ancestors
of the King of Maasai, I have become one with the the King, I ask you for
your acceptance and blessing to continue by his side as Queen of Maasai. I
promise pride in the ways of our ancestors. I humbly come to you with my
entire soul."
She lowers her head in respect to the ancestors as a ray of
the sun beams down over her. The eagle overhead turning into a mist and
drops down into her body.

Brajda lowers his head in respect as Cailene keeps her head lowered, the two
beams of light connecting into one. As the lights start to fade she opens
her eyes slowly watching as the light dissipates. "You may open your eyes
now my king, it is over."
Brajda looks at her worriedly, running to her
side to tend to her wound. He looks in her eyes and smiles lovingly as she
smiles lovingly back at him. "It is over my love." He holds his hand over
her wound. "Yes, my queen."

Writer: Jainie

Date Mon May 11 18:46:46 2015

Writer: Jadelyn

Date Tue May 12 18:47:19 2015

Writer: Verdemar

Date Tue May 12 19:48:27 2015

To Shadow Ellminaidra Aeryc ( Necrucifer Imm All )

Subject The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes

Finding Vaes was easy.

The man was hardly discreet when he was a Novice. He became boisterously
less so upon his knighting ceremony. Some men never learn. What started
out as a few card games against fellow soldiers on break became a full-blown
gambling addiction. This man, who once held a line of our knights as wave
after wave of yinnae berserkers broke against their pikes, wagered until he
begged for pittances from his comrades to toss at Lady Luck.

His destitution reached its apex one dreary night in the Month of Battle, a
year ago. I remember it All too well.

I sat within the Black Rose, one of my regular haunts, chatting idly with
one of the MacLeod clan. Several tables away, a group of men spoke, far too
loudly, rambunctiously offering their particularly lewd observations of the
passing waitresses to the tavern at large. Ser Vaes had far too much to
drink. You could practically see the amber colour of the man's sweat as it
pored down his overweight face, droplets hanging from that wobbling
triple-chin like an unfrozen stalactite.

He was repulsive.

I would not be surprised if others' repulsion to him drove the man to
gamble. I had never seen Drenauw with a woman, save for the nights he won
big, and the money-hungry floozies flocked to his side, blowing on his dice
with would-be seduction masking the contemptuous pursing of their lips, and
the snide rolls of their eyes when one of his meaty hands found its way to a
shapely buttock.

His lecherous nature, however, was not what drew my attention that night.

It was the distinctly muffled sound of a sheathed sword being drawn, and the
clatter of iron on wood as the large man threw it on the table.

I did not believe he could be serious. Even from my position, three tables
distanced from Vaes, I could feel the aura emanating from that weapon. The
familiar pit of dread, anathema to All that many consider holy. As Captain
of the Guard, it is my duty to perform punitive purification for actions
just like this one. What game was this knight playing?

I settled into my seat, no longer paying attention to the MacLeod girl
prattle on. She continued, heedless, mindlessly chattering about the gossip
of the Highlands. Whose father was irate that his daughter was being plowed
by whom, and who had too much to drink the night before.

My eyes were riveted on the shipwreck happening before my very eyes.

Vaes was not a poor gambler, save that he did not know when to quit while he
was ahead. Vaes was not the sort of man to think beyond his current hand.
This rang true while he gambled and while he lived his everyday life. He
did not seek to educate himself in any fashion, and oft found himself at the
mercy of his peers, when it came to naming our foes.

The Highlands are not merely my home, but also the home of many of the men
and women who are drawn to Gareth and Storm. Something to do with the
martial way we are All raised bends our minds easily to the dedication
necessary of Knighthood. There is something of a pact within the Rose,
enforced by a mob mentality fueled by too much whiskey and too many sheep
stomachs, that those of Gareth and those of Storm may both drink peaceable,
without interference from the other side.

We do not have to like one another, but we hold a mutual respect. For some,
this respect bleeds the line. It is one thing to share a drink in the same
tavern. It is another entirely to freely wager your life's coin with the

Thus it came to pass that a member of God's eternal Knighthood did wager his
sword, blessed by a member of the Sanctum, on a bluff fueled by liquid
courage and stupidity. As the men each raised their bets around the table,
Vaes began to sweat a little more profusely, his hands shaking anxiously as
the first man laid his cards down. Nine high.

Writer: Verdemar

Date Tue May 12 19:51:25 2015

To Shadow Ellminaidra Aeryc ( Necrucifer Imm All )

Subject The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes (pt. 2)

His gaze flicked to the next man, a squat dwarf from the halls of
Thaxanos, twenty-six ales in and showing no signs of stopping. He had just
recently ordered another mug for each fist. The dwarf, though, had wisely
folded earlier in the hand, preferring instead to play a quick drinking game
with a nearby teen, slamming back four shots in two gulps, one stacked atop
the other before draining a mug of Skullsplitter each. The teenager had to
be carted off by his laughing friends. The final player in the small group
of gamblers, barring Drenauw Vaes himself, set down his own cards, an
Arkanian flush.

I saw Vaes sink into his chair, his shoulders slumping forwards in defeat,
before I saw his cards. The man had obviously lost.

The portly Knight tried, in vain, to recollect his sword before the man
opposite him had a chance to, but it was too late. As his far-luckier
opponent rose, I had a better opportunity to study his face. He was a
lesser captain of Gareth, a man known to lead a small militia on Tropica.
An outpost against the beasts of Chaos.

I excused myself from the vapid MacLeod girl courteously, leaving coins on
the table to pay for my own meal and drinks, as well as fund hte girl's
drinks for the remainder of the night. Stepping outside without attracting
too much attention, I managed to get the attention of a dark-cloaked man
hidden in the shadows of the general store across the street. With a few
pointed gestures, I explained to him what had happened.

The emmissary of Nordmaar's thieves' guild got the point, and I slipped him
a worn pouch of blue diamonds. Later that night I would return to claim the
sword from him, after he had removed it from the Knight's care, and pay the
man the remainder of his due.

For now, I had hunting to do. I re-entered the Rose, scanning the cardtable
for the traitorous member of Storm, but was unable to find the brazen beast
anywhere. He must have seen me leaving the tavern, and known what was to

I would have been well within my rights to seek out the Captain of
Nordmaar's guard, and have the city locked down until I could locate this
pitiful excuse for a knight, but I will be honest. There is a part of me
that is sporting, and it had been some time since I was able to hunt an

I made my way back to Storm Keep, and wrote my letters, seeking the
whereabouts of newcomers matching Vaes' description.

The hunt was on.

Writer: Verdemar
Date Tue May 12 21:20:37 2015

To Shadow Ellminaidra Aeryc ( Necrucifer Imm All )

Subject The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes (pt. 3)

Drenauw Vaes was not the sort of man to go without his vices for a
prolonged period of time. Even before his transgressions where our most
storied of weapons are concerned, I had been keeping an eye on him. Men who
oft visit whores are rarely to be trusted. Something about feminine
lubricant quickly slicks a besotten man's tongue, and they spill more
secrets than they know how to keep.

Many of the letters I sent out in search of Vaes were directed to the
farious madames of well-known whorehouses across Algoron, while some went to
lesser-known brothels bearing more common familial names than any such
establishment has a right to.

Responses did not come quickly, and I am certain that many failed to respond
for fear that their words might bring the wroth of God down upon their
places of business. Thankfully, after about six months of combined patience
and combing the disreputable businesses myself, I received something
concrete. A portly man vaguely matching Drenauw Vaes' description had been
frequenting a pleasurehouse on Tropica, some out-of-the-way two storied
building in a village primarily composed of mud huts. From the way the
letter read, the whorehouse was the primary source of income for the
village, and All girls aged sixteen to twenty-eight were conscripted to work
and learn the 'arts' passed down from woman to woman.

Of course this was where Vaes set himself up.

I maintained written communication with the brothel's madame for over a
month, during which she made the wayward Knight her premier customer,
treating the man like a King, even when he had no coin to spend. Vaes grew
comfortable, complacent. He forgot his vows, thinking himself beyond the
reach of God's Chosen. The runaway was pampered, his masculine needs tended
to day and night. The man grew fat in the lap of luxury, whatever strength
once filling his obese frame sinking further beneath that mask of jiggling
lard. Bears hibernating for the winter would envy him.

I booked my passage on a merchant junk, offering to work my way across the
sea to the south of Storm. I will save you the time and trouble reading
through my accounting of it: know that the time passed uneventfully, and
when I arrived on Tropica it was to little fanfare. I did not bring my
armament with me, wearing instead the uniform of an officer of minor rank in
a well-known mercenary company. The sort of man who wouldn't be amiss if he
were to spend a week or two whoring and drinking.

I spent some of the money I had allocated for this mission paying an
illusionist in the Tropican jungles to mask my appearance. Those who know
me are well aware of the obvious scarring I bear. I am not an easy man to
miss. I took on the babyface countenance of a fresh soldier, given command
by Daddy's money. When I swaggered into The Dripping Candlestick, hardly an
eye turned to me.

Taking a seat by the window, I ordered an ale and offered the half-nude
woman dancing before me a smile, raising my mug in her direction. The woman
made to straddle my lap as I watched Vaes. He was easily the most
recognizable man in the room, and his time away from the Keep had only
served to widen his countenance. Where once a triple-chin hung beneath a
whiskered face, now smooth, rounded jowls hung blubberingly, swaying as he
shoved food into his gullet: truly a goblin king in every sense of the word.
I imagine if the women of the Candlestick had not bathed him themselves, he
would have bore a strench unrivaled by any outside the ogre kingdom's walls.

He laughed raucously as women fed him grapes, pouring wine into his great
maw, though most of it seemed to dribble into the bristling, patchy scruff
the would-be knight called a beard and staining the cloth of his tunic.

He was too concerned with the pleasures of his hedonistic lifestyle to pay
me any mind. This was almost too easy.

Writer: Verdemar
Date Tue May 12 21:24:35 2015

To Shadow Ellminaidra Aeryc ( Necrucifer Imm All )

Subject The Hunt: Drenauw Vaes (pt. 4)

Weeks passed like this, as I made myself known to the people in the inn.
I went at odd times, sometimes int he morning, others at night. I fed them
stories of my life in the mercenary camps, and was greeted with the bought
affectations of a dozen whores. This paled in comparison to the veritable
squadron of women that attended to Vaes at All times, rubbing his skin,
stretched too-tight over a body full of poisons: alcohol and poor

The former knight looked like too-much sausage shoved into too-little

After a month had passed, I waited for the middle of the week, following my
target's standard schedule. This was the night signaling the apex of his
hedonistic lifestyle. From here until the end of the week, his activities
would lessen, until his cycle started once more at the beginning of the
following week. It had to be tonight.

I had worked out a series of signals with the establishment's madame, one
Cassandra Dean. Likely an acquired name. I made eye contact with her an
exchanged a series of pre-arranged handsignals. The first communication I
had with the woman since my arrival in this God forsaken village. She
seemed surprised, but nodded and spoke quietly with a small, demure girl, no
older than fifteen. The whorehouse equivalent of a Squire in training, no

The girl approached me and shyly smiled, offering me her hand as though to
lead me upstairs. I took her hand, rising and ascending the stairs behind
this bare slip of a girl slowly, settling myself into the all-too-familiar
Thrill of the hunt. I felt my pulse pick up before I stifled it, choking it
back down. The girl led me to a room with a closed door, and from within I
could hear the telltale signs of a woman having to pretend to enjoy herself.


I slipped ten gold coins to the girl before ushering her off, preparing
myself mentally for the road ahead.

"God, hear me now. The man upon whom I am to deliver your Justice has
betrayed every ideal we hold dear. This man must die, that the fidelity of
Storm Keep be maintained. With his death, I condemn All who would gamble
away the gifts God has bestowed upon Algoron. With his death, I solidify as
Your eternal sword upon this world, and those beyond, purifying the faith
from those who would mar it with the impious. Let my sword remove this
traitorous heretic's head while he experiences the peaks of his climax, and
let the unholy power coursing through my veins and blade turn his ecstasy to
unmitigated horror.

As I finished my prayer, I took a short running start and kicked in the door
at its knob. Splinters of wood sprayed the bed beyond, and I found my
charge tied to the bed, surrounded by well-meaning women of ill repute. I
let the illusionist's spell dissipate from my features and watched as the
man bedded before me realized what fate awaited him. He struggled
fruitlessly against the ropes binding him, his climax ruined, leaving his
own candlestick wetly dripping.

"Drenauw Vaes, former Knight of Storm Keep, for actions against the sanctity
of God's Dawn and a betrayal of your oaths, you are hereby sentenced to
" The words had hardly left my mouth before my blade swung, energy
crackling along its length as the unholy power bestowed upon the arcanium
raged in its confinement. The blade bit deep, severing the disgustingly
toad-like protruding neck of Drenauw Vaes, once Knight of Storm Keep.

We watched him bleed out together, the ladies of The Dripping Candlestick
and I, and with a liberal spreading of coin among the remaining women, I was
able to ensure that what remained of the renegade once I had removed and
bagged his head would be disposed of with a minimal fuss. All that remained
was to return his head to the Dark Lord of Storm Keep, and re-assume my
position as Captain with Storm.

Writer: Swilt

Date Tue May 12 23:04:18 2015

To All Pirates

Subject A Kender's Life For Me! *P1*

Swilt smiled while reaching his arms out wide, baking in the summer sun
that sparkled across the ocean waves ahead of him. He loved the taste of
the sea salt through his teeth as the ship lurched and crashed through the
peaking waves. His amber blond hair whistled out behind him in waves that
came to rest at his shoulders only in fleeting moments. These were the
moments he lived for, sure the excitement of finding something extremely
shiny, or a wondrous adventures that this type of life was privy to was
pretty great too.

A small pod of dolphins leapt up and out of the water, as Swilt gave a
primitive shout of approval for their display. His clothes were a tattered
mess of dirty brown leather hide that had started to nearly completely wear
away from being handed down from one person to the next. He didnt care
about his appearance. This was the life for him.

Hes an idiot, A fat bearded man shook his head in complete disapproval. Hes
going to fall off the damned railing one of these times, standing like that.
The man spit to the wooden plank a couple of paces from wear he and a long
dark haired man stood.

He has served your needs hasnt he? The dark haired man said from buried in
the hood of his cloak.

I wasnt complaining about your work, we both know your the best at what you
do. The round stomach man grinned.

And your a decent enough pirate, at least decent enough that you pay for my
services, as illegal in Algoron as they might be. Cold black eye bore holes
into the unaware kender balancing from one foot to the other to meet each
convulsion the ship gave.

Dont know what kind of damned world we live in that owning a couple slaves
is a crime. The fat under the mans chin shook as he growled the words. If
you could get me a couple more of these type. Little, sneaky devils, they
dont even exactly understand what they are doing is wrong. Best damned
pirate Ive ever saw. Again the man spit a green film from his wobbly jaw.

Swilt had little memory of a time before the stranger in the black hood had
taken him by the hand as he was out exploring so many years ago. Now his
only memory were the exciting adventures he was lucky enough to have.

Land! Swilt turned and leapt out over the deck of the ship in a single
motion. Are we going to find some new treasures!

Writer: Brimstune

Date Thu May 14 10:51:51 2015

Writer: Mahina

Date Thu May 14 17:27:17 2015

To All Imm RP ( Nadrik )

Subject It Takes a City

Mahina walked though the streets of Althainia as the memories filled her
mind. Duf and her having chats at the temple, All the people watching over
her, and those who stopped and gave her a helping hand. She missed her
parents with her whole heart but their was nothing she could do to awaken
them as a child.

She grew up in the castle as everyone took a bit of time out of their day to
teach her manners, ettiquete, and the ways of honor. In time she grew into
a beautiful young woman with wisdom beyond her years. She walked gracefully
through Althainia assisting those in need. She had a smile for everyone she
met and curtseyed gracefully to All her superiors.

She is truly blessed to know that, in her parents absence, it took a city to
raise her.

Writer: Nessah

Date Thu May 14 20:46:46 2015

Writer: Brimstune

Date Fri May 15 01:15:01 2015

Writer: Brimstune

Date Fri May 15 01:16:20 2015

Writer: Brimstune

Date Fri May 15 01:17:48 2015

Writer: Brimstune
Date Fri May 15 01:25:43 2015

Writer: Swilt
Date Fri May 15 01:26:00 2015

To All RP

Subject A Kender's Life For Me! *P2*

Swilt Tumblewave landed from a nearly impossible leap across the rapidly
dividing floor. The marble stones of temple shook and started to fall in
large slabs toward the ground and down into the opening abyss. With a tuck
of his head the small kender boy went into a roll and just managed to not
only avoid being brained by a colliding stone but squeaked under the exit.
The huge granite slab sealing away the rest of the secrets left behind, for
the rest of time.

Easy, Swilt laughed, as he quickly took a deep black towel from his bag and
caught as much of the blood pouring out of his shoulder as possible. He
tossed a snakeskin purse to the waiting hands of round bellied Pirate
Captain. Though I think I might have got some dirt in my eyes, everything
is getting a little foggy.

Walk it off, and go see the ship cleric, youll be fine enough kender. The
Captains fat lips shook as he spoke and bits of spit showered down a couple
inches in front of him.

Not like you, A hooded man with long black hair approached the side of the
Captain, as they watched the boy wonder off in a zigzag fashion. Isnt you
thing more, burn the cities down, steal the wenches, and pee in the

Didnt I pay you? The fat mans face reddened. Is this the real damned
price of buying a kender, having to be visited by a spook like you?

The pitch black eyes of the hooded man gleamed with an almost amusement at
the comment. I simply am checking on how much you are liking your property.
A stillness came to the air around the two men and for a moment neither of
them spoke.

I- the Captain began but the hooded man brought a gloved finger to his lips
to signal for the other to remain quiet. I dont care about your stupid

Its passed now anyway. Something in the air, seems you upset some spirits
being in this temple this day.
The darked form turned his eye back on the
Captain. I hope whatever was inside was worth their anger.

I certainly dont care about that damned nonsense either! What are you
wanting from me Collector? I might have thought about getting a couple more
of these little freaks from you, if you didnt keep bothering me so.
fat mans face had become completely cherry red. The Captain normally would
have killed someone like The Collector by now for confusing his brain this

O, Im afraid I can only provide this one for you. Its more of a test for
his kind then it is about the worthless eggs you paid me, or your glutinous
gains through his skills.
Again the figures midnight eyes shimmered with

Those jeweled eggs were the real thing! The Captain raged his holy large
body shaking and his hand almost grabbing for his firearm in reflex.

Without doubt good man, without doubt. The Collector began to withdraw,
not out of fear but to drift back toward the shadows hed appeared. I enjoy
putting things were they dont belong and seeing how they turn out. Lets see
what kind of pirate this kender boy turns out to be.

The Captain remained confused and quiet for a few moments left alone next to
the crumpled entrance of the temple. I should have just bought a damned

Writer: Aerebtheteh

Date Fri May 15 11:50:39 2015

Writer: Marcaus

Date Fri May 15 21:32:49 2015

Writer: Marcaus

Date Fri May 15 21:42:44 2015

Writer: Brimstune

Date Sat May 16 09:54:03 2015

Writer: Reagan

Date Sat May 16 12:23:05 2015

Writer: Gabhran

Date Sat May 16 19:08:05 2015

Writer: Styrkar

Date Sat May 16 19:23:13 2015

Writer: Rellinath

Date Sat May 16 20:14:59 2015

To All althainia imm rp

Subject Fight, pt. 1 (Althainian Wargames, Week 2)

Rellinath drew his squad to a halt as Minah's ears pinned flat and a low
growl issued from her throat. Something had caught her attention, something
serious judging by the panther's reaction. He jumped down from the saddle
of his horse and walked over to where Minah stood, crouched in awareness.

"What is it, my friend? What's out there? "

The panther turned to Rellinath and growled again, scratching at the ground
twice. Rellinath nodded in response. Though of course the panther couldn't
speak the common tongue, she understood it well enough, and she had her own
way to "talk" to Rell.

"Two people. "

The panther reached a paw up and swatted at Rellinath's swordbelt.

"A battle? "

Minah scratched at the ground excitedly, then reached a paw up and lightly
swatted Rellinath's arm, her claws just barely drawing blood. As focused as
Rellinath was on his friend, he didn't even register the pain.

"Blood has been shed. "

She growled again, then reached out with her paw once more, swatting at
Rellinath's left hand. The panther's claw hooked on a ring on his finger
and pulled insistantly, then she suddenly wheeled and darted into the brush.
Rellinath felt All of the blood drain out of his face as the realization of
this last action by the panther set in. He turned to his troops.

"Oh gods. Hali's wounded... Badly. "

All pretense of stealth gone, Rellinath's forces charged through the brush,
hardly caring if anyone pursued them at this point. This game had taken a
sinister turn, and Rellinath's thoughts went to Mahalia, wondering if he'd
make it in time. He didn't have long to wait, as Minah roared from ahead.
Rellinath and his forces charged into a clearing to see Mahalia, laying in a
pool of blood, some stranger off to the far side nearly decapitated with a
blood-smeared sword on the ground next to him. Rellinath jumped from his
horse before the beast had even come to a halt, running to Mahalia's side
and swearing. He tore at his belt for some curative herbs, something to
stop or at least slow the bleeding, but he knew that she needed more help
than he could offer.

"MINAH! Go get the cleric from the rear vanguard! Hurry! " The panther
obediently tore off through the underbrush as Rellinath worked at packing
the wound. After a while, Mahalia's eyes fluttered, then opened.


Writer: Gabhran

Date Sat May 16 20:16:21 2015

Writer: Rellinath

Date Sat May 16 20:25:25 2015

To All althainia imm RP

Subject Fight, pt 2 (Althainian Wargames, Week 2)

"Rell.... Is that you? "

"Aye, Hali. You're safe now, we've got you. You're going to be alright.

Rell bent down and hugged Hali close to him, then froze as an unexpected but
familiar voice rose from the underbrush.

"OI, ain't this just a scene that shivers me timbers? " came the laughing
words of Captain Jadelyn Darkwater as she sauntered out from the underbrush,
a dagger in one hand and a pistol in the other. Rellinath lept to his feet,
taking a protective stance over Mahalia and shrugging his bow from his back,
an arrow finding his fingers and going to nock. Jadelyn's crossbowmen
appeared from the woods behind her, then shouted in alarm as the underbrush
responded to Rellinath's call, vines and branches entwining the men and
snaking around limbs and through weapons, locking All but two of them
tightly in place. These two fired, their bolts scoring two solid hits on
Rellinath's knights, one man dropping to the ground and the other spinning a
dramatic circle before collapsing to the ground in a clatter of plate.
Rellinath's eyes narrowed slightly at the theatrics... He was not in a
joking mood, not with his love still laying nearby in need of a healer.
Jadelyn apparently hadn't yet noticed the all-too real wounds on Mahalia, as
her attitude was still as joking and flippant as ever, and Rell knew the
Captain well enough to know that if she was aware of Hali's injuries that
she'd likely call off the whole thing and try to help her. Rell also know,
however, that Hali was not in mortal danger anymore, and that she'd protest
having the wargames called off on her account anyway, so he kept quiet for
now. He drew his bow back as the remainder of the knights advanced warily
on Jadelyn. The two remaining crossbowmen loaded their weapons and trained
them on Rellinath...

And then shouted in alarm as the roar of a panther echoed through the
clearing, Minah flying out down from a branch and burying one of the
crossbowmen under a rush that looked as if it was intended to kill (and
indeed the crossbowman shrieked in mortal terror before the panther gave him
a very affectionate lick across the nose to let him know she wasn't a real
enemy), and Rellinath took the opportunity to fire on the other crossbowman
as he wheeled to confront the new threat, the man taking an arrow to the
chest and sitting down chuckling. Jadelyn, suddenly finding herself alone,
shot forward in a rush, one of the knights stumbling and falling under the
sudden aggression, taking several hits from her dagger and admitting defeat.
Another of the knights turned to advance at her, but she levelled her pistol
at him, winked, and grinned.

"BANG! Yer dead! "


Writer: Rellinath

Date Sat May 16 20:35:00 2015

To All althainia imm RP

Subject Fight, pt. 3 (Althainian Wargames, Week 2)

The knight stopped, looking at Jadelyn in confusion for a second, then to
Rellinath, and then sitting down as Rellinath's affirming nod came that yes,
the strange device could indeed kill him that easily. Rell braced himself,
his fingers searching for another arrow, hoping that the Captain didn't have
a second pistol handy.... But knowing that pirates typically did carry at
least two.

"Hey! Are we too late? " came a call from the side, catching both parties
by surprise.

Rionan and the wizard trotted out of th ebrush, their robes full of burrs
and thorns. Jadelyn reacted faster than Rellinath, sprinting at the wizard
so quickly he couldn't even begin the words of a spell as she flew through
the air, dropkicking him back into the brush so far that he vanished from
sight entirely. She sprang back to her feet, grabbing Rionan and putting
her dagger to his throat, grinning at Rellinath, who had dropped his bow and
drawn his blades instead.

"Gotcha! " she yelled as she drew the dagger across Rionan's throat, the
blunted blade doing no real harm. Not that this kept Rionan from gurgling
and clutching at his throat as if he'd really been slashed by the blade, of
course, dropping to the ground and making quite a show of his death scene.
Jadelyn grinned and pulled a second pistol from her belt, pointing it
directly at Rellinath.

"Well, Rell, it's been fun bu-WAIT WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?! "

The underbrush arose and ensnared Jadelyn. Her eyes shot around, spotting
Cieran and the cleric rushing into the clearing. The cleric immediately
went to Mahalia, and Jadelyn's eyes went wide as she finally noticed the
blood-soaked bandage on Hali's arm.

"OI, Rell, what happened to Hali? She's... Rell? Rell..? "

Her words trailed off as she felt a presence at her back, twin blades laid
on her shoulders, at both sides of her neck.

"You're out, Captain. And Hali will be okay, so don't worry. "


Rellinath, Mahalia, and Cieran sat in the clearing, surveying the remaining
forces at this site. Cieran had told Rell about the battle at the rear
vanguard, Rell taking the news with a grim face, though he was comforted
that the color had returned to Mahalia's face after the cleric's healing.

"Alright. We have Mahalia, and she's safe. The question is, though....
"Now what?"


Writer: Swilt

Date Sun May 17 01:15:04 2015

To All

Subject A Kender's Life For Me *P3*

The ship had long since seen its glory days. The ocean had the stillness
of unwavering glass. It reflected sunlight that danced like faeries across
the surface. The pirate sales were left limp and a few of the crew had cast
lines to compete to see who would catch the largest fish for dinner that
night. The night before had gone late into the night, with raunchy songs of
the things they would do to the next city they pillaged. The deck was still
slick with spilt alcohol and the sun cooked it into the air.

Swilt looked down at All of this from his perch from high above, he loved to
nest most night in the ships crows nest. It allowed him to avoiding being
the entertainment normally at his expense for thirty drunken pirates. This
was the only life he could remember, and he made the most of it. There was
part of him that wished he knew more about his past, about his kind. The
desire to reunite with the parents he was taken from or know the secrets of
his past always desolved away. There was always the next place to see, the
next adventure to be had, the next treasure to discover.

It was one of those treasures that had the majority of his attention. He
figured The Captain wouldnt mind if he just borrowed it for a couple of
days. He was the one after All whole braved the collapsing temple to secure
it. Hed replaced the gem with a stone and Swilt was certain the pirate
captain hadnt looked inside yet because he would have already come to claim
it. The perks of working for a drunk is sometimes he forgot about the best

Swilt knew this one would be different. It was small, not like golden
statue or some of the other prizes hed seen during his time with the pirates
A simple green stone, but when he looked close enough it was like every star
in the sky spun around and if he didnt break his gaze he felt he could
almost tumble right in.

A violent roaring erupted from the deck below. The Captains private cabin
door smashing open in a thunder of the mans fat arms. His bare stomach
heaving in hairy matted sweat. You son of a warg! His eyes shot straight
up to Swilts hiding spot which wasnt exactly a secret. You better bring me
that damned stone this minute!
Spit flecked his thick grey beard.

Swilt grinned spinning the jewel across the back of his fingers before
letting it dance into his pocket. Coming Captain, IdontthinkIknow which
stone you mean!
The kender used a number of robes and ladder steps to make
like breeze and hit the deck in a flourish.

Come over here, The Captain motion his ham sized fist. The kender knew he
was in trouble, but as he got closer he hadnt realized how much. The man
swung out his giant arm and took dug his fingers into Swilts hair. Out of
reflex Swilt grabbed for his head letting out a yelp. In a single swing of
his arm The Captain flung the kender backward into his private quarters. We
are going to have words,
A fire danced in the eyes of the pirate.

Writer: Mahina

Date Sun May 17 08:12:54 2015

To All Imm RP ( Nadrik )

Subject Changes

Mahina was upset about so many things, her studies were going slow, she
lost her first love, and her parents had been missing for a long time and
were not there when she needed then. Her whole life had changed in the
blink of an eye and she did not know what to do. She sat in the woods
hidden amongst the trees where nobody would find her.

A few weeks had past, and with some assistance, she was able to finish her
training, and proudly wore the robes of the priesthood. As she left the
Temple, she started to realize, she had nobody to share the news with. She
walked to the garden, sitting by the tree and wept.

Writer: Cieran

Date Mon May 18 07:44:01 2015

Writer: Swilt
Date Mon May 18 14:26:04 2015

To All Imm

Subject A Kender's Life For Me! -Fin-

The room was nearly completely dark except for some stray sunlight that
had managed to break in through the slots of the shuttered windows. The
dank smell of old sweat and drink was thick in the air, and Swilt tried his
best to keep his focus as his body tumbled across the wood planks. He could
hear the thundering charge of The Captain behind him, the hard slamming of
the door after the man.

Everything I did for you! The Captain bellowed. Raging forward the fat
mans body now seemed a solid force of destruction his rotted teeth showing
through his snarl. In a single bound Swilt managed to get from his feet to
as far apart from the man as the little room allowed. I payed extra for
you! I could have bought some Yinn dog and been better off! You lying,
stealing snake of a creature. Ill rip off the tips of those pointed ears!

Again The Captain roared, swinging out one of his massive arms.

Avoiding the clutching grip of the pirate, Swilt kicked himself off the wall
and landed behind his assailant. The Captain swung his massive frame around
in a roaring of anger. I was just borrowing it I swear! Its not even that
nice of a jewel! Iveseenbigger!

Too late you little blasted rodent! Ive got my moneys worth out of you. No
more spook Collector when your gone, and no more pinching from my treasure.
Its the plank for you! The Captains eyes went wide with rage, the bloodshot
tinge lending to his look of absolute hatred. May the sea elves be kind to
your remains!
The Captain again charged, this time both his arms
outstretched in a wild pursuit of the kender.

Swilt managed to just duck under the first of the mans fists as the second
caught him by the throat. The kender took a quick breath as he felt the
giant mans fingers dig into his skin. Swilt brought his hands up to the
wrist of his captain and tried in vain to loosen the grip.

Or maybe I will just choke the life from your nasty little body right here.
The Captains face took on a certain satisfaction as he watched Swilts hands
drop to his side, the kenders breathing slowing as the struggle to retrieve
air became a defeat. No one steals from me, I AM CAPTA-


The giant man looked bewildered for a moment, his mouth dropping open in a
gasping of breath. Swilt dropped from his once solid grip, and as he hit
the ground the kender kicked his legs back and made as much distance as he
could from the pirate There in the center of The Captains chest, bleeding a
crimson blood as deep as ruby, a huge hole had been blown through his body.
Between the dying Captain and Swilt lay the weapon that had caused such
destruction. A single shot firearm, the one possession in the whole world
The Captain was never without.

In a thud the flithy, hair covered fat body of the once captain of this ship
fell face first into the wood planks. Swilt stood rubbing at his bruised
throat. Without a second thought the kender scooped up the firearm and
swung open the door of the cabin. Sunlight poured in over him, and seagulls
squawked high in the early morning sky. With a smile on his face Swilt
bounded his way to the wheel of the ship and with a single sweep of his hand
changed the course of the vessel.

Listen up pirates, your taking me home, wecanallgohome. He knew it was
finally time to rediscover the life that had been taken from him. It was
time to look for his family. There was no doubt he was a pirate through and
through, he even had the firearm to prove it. Before he was a pirate
though, he was a kender, and a kender needed to be free!

Writer: Arravis

Date Mon May 18 16:24:04 2015

Writer: Arravis

Date Mon May 18 16:33:10 2015

Writer: Thaydius

Date Mon May 18 16:48:06 2015

To All Asaza ( Religion Siccara Imm )

Subject None Should Suffer

Then you're waiting to die.

It was a morbid comment. Those tended to happen with Asaza, honestly. Her
proximity to the Black Moon was akin to the connection he had with the White
Moon. Either implicitly or explicitly, consciously or subconsciously, she
was representing the teachings of Evil. Even if she knew he was
incorruptable. In the same way that he would represent the teachings of the
White Moon to her, knowing that she could never be saved.

But the extremities of their viewpoints and the great valley between them
mattered little. They could have an endless number of conversations about
giving and taking. About personal responsibility and freedom. About
cooperating with the harmony of the gods and the fleeting mystery of their
lives that could only be uncovered by expressing their vast power. They had
known each other for so long. And even though they had less in common with
each other than Thaydius had with other paragons of the Light, he still felt
he knew her better.

For they had faced the same trials. They had met the same adversity from
mortals. They were described with half truths and assumptions. Mortals
knew next to nothing about them and cared to learn little more than enough
to dismiss them. They were hunted. They were feared. They were envied.
They were pitied. Him, a child of the White Moon and her, a daughter of the
Black Moon. In that one way, they were plenty alike. And it allowed them
to relate to one another.

She was a tall, muscular woman with dark skin and a sense of smugness. The
sobering seriousness was offset by the unpredictable flare of her wild
temper and passion. Because he saw her essence, the flames were invisible
to him. He could see the surface of her eyes and the cracks and glowing
fire were some layer over the aura itself. But the monster was too apparent
to others. Before she was Asaza, she was just a girl. Just as he was once
a boy. He could see it in her eyes. They were where fate brought them to

He always disliked the concept of the Gods War. It was coined by Raije and
fit his motives. He had no desire to harm Asaza and nothing to gain for it.
He did not hate anything about her except the things she believed. But she
was more than her beliefs. They were family. It wasn't likely that mortals
would respect that reality, if it came down to it.

If he lived longer than her, he prayed that the mortals wouldn't desecrate
her body. The Fire Giant, even if a terrible and tremendous force of
darkness that worked directly against him in this world, deserved respect in
death. That he might be robbed the chance to mourn her by the very people
who believed they championed the same cause as him was a morbid thought.
Perhaps the mortals had more in common with her than they thought.

Writer: Arravis
Date Mon May 18 22:21:44 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Tue May 19 12:27:58 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Tue May 19 12:56:03 2015

Writer: Shalrienne
Date Tue May 19 13:25:35 2015

Writer: Cieran
Date Tue May 19 16:37:34 2015

Writer: Aeryc
Date Wed May 20 19:59:18 2015

Writer: Rellinath
Date Thu May 21 00:56:39 2015

To All althainia imm RP

Subject Flight (Althainian Wargames, interlude between wk2 and 3)

The small band of knights, Rellinath at their lead, prepared to press
north to the Shalonesti border. Rellinath wanted this over with as soon as
possible. Though the cleric had healed most of Mahalia's wounds and she was
no longer in imminent danger, there was something in her eyes (or, perhaps,
missing from them?) That worried him greatly. Before he and his troops
could depart, however, a warning growl from Minah issued forth, and
Rellinath turned to her. She scratched the ground, one, two, three, and
kept scratching. Rellinath knew what that meant... A large group of forces
was closing on their position fast.

"Get her out of here, now! We'll stop them here. ", Rellinath whispered to
the lead knight. They reared horses, and Rellinath gave Mahalia one last
worried look as she was escorted away by the Knights, hopefully towards

A glint shot through Rellinath's eyes as he gave a nod to the gathered men.
Seemed this wasn't over yet. But, gods willing, it would be very soon. He
raised his hand and called for his men to advance. Time to take the fight
to them.

(OOC: Rewritten to ret-conn the original story for newly available information)

Writer: Leadero
Date Thu May 21 02:19:55 2015

To All Liviya Lirexa Dyaki Makisha

Subject The Patchwork Gift

It had been an idea of a moment. A little seed of thought that had
somehow managed to take root in his mind and, over the course of several
days, began to sprout. He was not normally the creative type and for what
he had in mind, he would need the help of another more inclined to such
delicate tasks. So, the small, brief idea had been brought to Dyaki, the
lovely young ariel taking to the conspiracy with tremendous enthusiasm. It
was refreshing, and her access to supplies and ideas was very useful.

Makisha had joined them, a touch reluctantly, but with nearly as many ideas
as himself and Kiki combined. He had countered several ideas shared, but as
the first night of work progressed, more had been added, then a little more.

First there had been discussions on how it should be made. Then, after that
was decided, there was talk of stuffing. That took some time, and when that
had been decided, there was discussion of fabrics and materials. This one
was the most lengthy, and in the end, the decision made was made to forego
choosing at all. The rest of the first night was spent digging through
various trinkets, snipping fabrics and engaging in quiet discussion. Though
perhaps most pleasing was that those from All walks and races had come
together for one, simple purpose.

A few days passed in busy chaos before there was one more evening in which
he found himself in Kiki's home, high within the giant tree. They worked
for some hours to finish the final details of the gift, but toward the end
he was disturbed by the voice of the intended gift recipient.

They spoke briefly and after only a few moments he realized his error. In
an effort to show thoughtfulness through material things, he had managed to
push away one of the people he cared about most. He and Kiki spoke for a
few moments on how they could have done better. And they realized that the
biggest error was forgetting that Lirexa could not see.

When naught could be done for the evening, they returned to their work. At
least they could finish what they began, in hopes that the finished item
would be pleasing enough to redeem them. The hours wound on, and when
finally neither could think straight enough to guide the materials into the
proper places, it was nearly complete. When daylight came, he would add the
very last touches to the gift. He only hoped the patchwork gift would
express their intentions, rather than their mistake.

Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu May 21 12:17:12 2015

To All althainia aiera imm rp

Subject Reckless, but inspired, pt 1 (Althainian Wargames, Finale)

An expectant hush fell across the forest as Rellinath, Cieran, and the
remainder of his forces crept through the forest with All of the stealth
that nearly a hundred men could muster. That didn't stop them from being
surprised as they came into a cleared area and came face-to-face with a
group of cavalry, being led by a VERY large minotaur.

"Krinthos. "

The minotaur grunted in acknowledgement and charged, his cavalry rushing
through Rellinath's infantry and parting them like a wave, several men
sitting down and acknowledging that they had taken what would have been
mortal blows from blunted weapons or lance-tips. Krinthos did not wheel to
continue his attack, however, and continued off into the woods. Rellinath
knew what that meant.

"Half of you infantry, with me! Pursue the cavalry! We have to stop them
before they discover the plan! The rest of you, keep advancing, Ruydiez has
to be up there somewhere! "

With that, Rellinath and a small group of men, accompanied by Minah, tore
off into the brush in hot pursuit. After a tense search, Rellinath and his
men noted that Krinthos' trail had looped back around. He was returning to
the primary confrontation, which meant he hadn't picked up the knight's
trail. They had the window of opportunity that they needed, or so he hoped.
He pressed his men hard, heading back towards the rest of the group, and
hearing the sounds of combat ahead they burst into the clearing just in time
to see Krinthos pull up just short of goring Cieran through the chest,
stating in a flat voice, "Finished. "

And so he was, as Minah lept onto the minotaur's back, her jaws closing
lightly around Krinthos' neck. The minotaur grunted once in acknowledgement
and dropped heavily to the ground, next to a chuckling Cieran.

Rellinath looked across the field of battle to see Ruydiez, the last
remaining enemy commander, heading up a small group of knights. Ruydiez
looked around the battlefield, men sitting everywhere, the aftermath of a
friendly battle that would have left the field soaked in blood had it been
for real.

"You do not have Mahalia with you, and I notice the knights you commanded
are nowhere to be seen. You sent them to the north, didn't you? " Ruydiez
grinned at Rellinath, having guessed the ploy, but his amusement quickly
turned to concern as Rellinath's fingers shot to his bowstring, drawing and
loosing an arrow with blinding speed, the felt-tipped missile striking
Ruydiez's charger right where it's heart would be. Ruydiez shook his head
silently and jumped from the saddle, drawing a blunted polearm from a


Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu May 21 12:26:36 2015

To All althainia aiera imm rp

Subject Reckless, but inspired, pt 2 (Althainian Wargames, Finale)

"Get him, girl. " With that, Minah charged off after Ruydiez, but her
own rush was dwarfed by the sound of knights charging. Ruydiez's remaining
forces had charged Rellinath, and his infantry knew they were sorely
outmatched. They wavered, and started to turn.

"NO! Hold the line with me, my friends! We may fall this day, we may be
smote to the ground and to ruin, but by the Gods we will know that in our
defeat lies ultimate victory! FOR ALTHAINIA! "

The speech roused his men, who returned the warcry and braced for the
attack. It was All that Rellinath could do to avoid being struck to the
ground in that mad fray, but despite his rousing speech, the best his
infantry could do was engage the Knights and delay them from breaking off
the assault for as long as possible. One by one, his men fell, and
Rellinath squared off himself against four knights. He looked to the side,
Minah still playing a game of cat and mouse with Ruydiez, and he drew his
blades. And then, as the four knights dismounted and surrounded him, boxing
him in, he pulled his final card from his sleeve, played the last trick he
had to play.

A haunting tune issued forth from deep within Rellinath's throat as he began
to take graceful, fluid steps, his blades working a slow circle around him
as he spun in eerie time to the melody. Two of the knights looked at him
like he was daft, but the other two's eyes shot wide with horror and
confusion, for they had seen this before. It was an elven Bladesong.

Rellinath didn't know it, of course. He couldn't possibly know it, as the
training was secret and only given to the most elite of the elvish kind, no
simple Nordmaarian man such as he. Even if he was granted the chance to
study it, it took years and years of practice to achieve any proficiency at
all with the nuances of the form, and even then he didn't have nearly the
dexterity or fluidity of motion necessary to do it justice. But they didn't
know that HE didn't know, and he'd fought alongside the bladesinger Aiera
often enough to have picked up a few notes of the tune she hummed, a few of
the initial steps she took when engaging a foe, and Rellinath grinned to
himself as his slow, graceful movements changed suddenly and he charged the
two bewildered men with sudden, horrifying speed. His blades slapped out,
ringing against the knight's helmets, sending a two-tone note singing into
the air... But he paid for the ruse as two blades slapped heavily against
his own back. He was dead.

As he sat to the ground, he heard a growl from the side, and turned to see
Minah obediently laying down on the ground as well, having been swatted by
the business end of Ruydiez's polearm. The confrontation here was over...
Ruydiez had won the battle.


Writer: Rellinath

Date Thu May 21 12:29:58 2015

To All althainia aiera imm rp

Subject Reckless, but inspired, part 3 (Althainian Wargames, Finale)

Ruydiez came up beside Rellinath and chuckled.

"The other day, I asked you if having Mahalia as the target would inspire
you, or make you reckless. Do you have an answer now, Chevalier? "

"Both. And aren't you forgetting something? "

Rellinath grinned at him wickedly. Ruydiez's eyes shot wide in horror as
the realization hit. He swore, and called for his remaining forces to
remount as they charged off towards Althainia. But Rellinath knew what
awaited them. He'd done his job. They had delayed the pursuit, and by now
his men were close enough to the north gate of Althainia that there was no
way they would be intercepted in time.

It didn't matter if he'd "died". Victory was his. The cost was heavy,
true, but in war it usually was.


Writer: Zypher

Date Thu May 21 12:55:42 2015

Writer: Mahalia

Date Thu May 21 19:00:59 2015

Writer: Brimstune

Date Fri May 22 04:56:33 2015

To All Grumf Thzad ( Imm Rp Raije )

Subject The beginning of not the end!!

Brimstone eased back into his stone pew, which was located in Wargar.
Removing his plate helm and placing it next to him, running his hand through
his course hair Brimstone could not help to think back on the past.

Born from an ancient lineage, uncles, nephews, cousins and any other
bloodties, were All known for their involvement in past wars and Wargar.
His uncle twice removed had seen the birth of the first Dragon, Myra the
first Sultana of New Thalos was the keeper of such egg. He had also seen
the demise of Eclipse which eventually led to the formation of Shadow and
the culling of the first Dragon, Pyros the great red. The list could go on
and on and on.

Brimstone had sought service and tutelage in the Dwarven mountain, Thaxanos
had been's home for a long long time. He had chosen the path of a warrior
and advanced to the highest ranks possible in it, after some time he then
decided to choose the next available path. The path of an arms man was
tedious at best, he had to learn so many new skills in those skills time.
However on the attainment of the highest rank as an arms man, he had found
his niche. Starting off as a short beard in the Baewar clan, he tediously
climbed the ranks to a point where he could go no further. His heart was
set on becoming a Battlerager, he had heard that becoming one would be a
prestigious milestone is life. And he certainly wasn't going to let down
his family name!! After many years of service and dedication, not only to
his clan or kingdom he finally achieved this goal of becoming a Battlerager.
However this was just the beginning of his journey

Writer: Swilt
Date Sat May 23 15:00:44 2015

To All Talyn

Subject Kender Kin *P1*

Swilt Tumblewave turned for one last glance, it wasnt common for his kind
to do so. Part of him would miss the crew of The Bloodfang. After All they
had been the only family hed known for the last thirteen years. When he was
two years old, he had wondered away from home. That day hed been playing by
a river that ran down from the mountains, close to the home his family had
set up during their wondering. A smile had been dancing across his tiny red
lips as he washed a small rag dolls hair in the rushing roaring rivers
banks. He had borrowed the small stuffed doll from his sister, it had been
a gift this year, for her first year alive. She didnt bother with it ever

The river was a constant source of curiosity for the toddler and now that
hed managed to sneak away long enough it was the one place he had to go.
The sun was high and it would be one of the only times he would see the man,
outside in the light of day. He moved as a whisper, he was assured in his
every movement, the hooded man with the long jet black hair. His eyes as
deep as an abyss quietly watching the kender toddler for a few moments,
before kneeling quietly beside him.

I am The Collector, he smiled teeth as white as snow, and as straight as an
arrow. The kender smiled a gap toothed grin and lifted the doll he was
holding so the man could see the drenched little cloth doll which had long
been missing a button eye. Why dont we go for a walk little pointed eared

The screaming of seagulls snapped Swilt back to the present. A pair of
Ogres he knew only as Knuckle and Boot pulled the anchor up from the port
and a few of the goblin pirates readied the sales. Swilt silently said his
goodbyes and turned away from his past. The long grasses of the fields near
Arkane and close to the kender forest had been beaten down in a trail of
constant use. It was strange to suddenly realize he was now back with
society. Hed spent so long learning about every depth of Algorons oceans.
Now he was starting over.

He only had brought a couple of his smaller collections, and two very
important possessions. A book that the pirate Captain had kept, that talked
of a magical artifact something of the gods. Anyone who had it could build
anything they thought of. The Captain would often make Swilt listen to the
fantastical treasured palaces he would create. He called it simply, The

That wasnt what was most important to him right now. As he walked quietly
back into the world the fifteen year old kender, scooped the small one eyed
cloth doll from his gem colored pouch. No, what was important now was
finding the owner of this doll. Turning the blond haired figure over he
stared at its back. The one word written on it was still nearly visible the
dye had only faded some from its age. One name. Talyn. His baby sister.



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